#plus mr grumpypants

[embershroud108]

[turtle-steverogers]

Steve being grumpy and Bucky playing along is my fave trope. Ever. Little sunshine boy with a scowl on his face that he has to work very hard to keep as Bucky does everything in his power to make him smile.

YES OMG just steve being so aljsdkfj out of it and bucky employing all he knows to get him to laugh. here, have a ficlet

Dancing Queen

Steve is in a bad mood.

Bucky is pretty sure it has something to do with the lack of sleep he’d gotten the night before, and the week spent out of town at some array of peace conventions that left him low on spoons and overall battery power. Regardless, he’s got that divot between his eyebrows and pout on his lips that means he’s feeling prickly, and he nearly bit Bucky’s head off multiple times that day. Which, really, Bucky gets. Steve’s allowed to have bad days, and he’s always been one to lash out while still staying incredibly internal, but that doesn’t mean it’s particularly okay.

Granted, Steve knows this, and he’s already apologized for snapping at Bucky over the lack of cereal in the apartment. But he has yet to shake those angry eyebrows, and it’s getting difficult to watch.

He’s bent over a bowl of mac and cheese now, angrily shoveling noodles into his mouth, and honestly, no one needs to be that angry while eating boxed Kraft. Bucky watches him, vaguely amused, and more than a little concerned.

“What did that pasta ever do to you?” He asks as Steve forcefully stabs a noodle that didn’t want to stay on his fork, and bites it angrily.

Steve just grunts and doesn’t say anything. Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Okay, mr. Grumpypants, be that way,” Bucky says, but his tone is light.

“Bucky,” Steve sighs. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what, Grumpypants?” Bucky asks, grabbing a bowl for himself and cracking open a can of tuna to add to his mac and cheese.

“Buck, stop,” Steve insists, and he sounds truly annoyed now.

Bucky rolls his eyes again.

“Fine, fine, I won’t call you that anymore,” he says, leaning over the counter to eat standing up. “Do you wanna talk about it?” It isn’t the first time Bucky’s asked that, and he’s not expecting a ‘yes’. Sure enough, Steve just grunts again and shakes his head. “Alright, I’m here if you change your mind.”

“Thanks,” Steve mumbles, because he isn’t ungrateful, and continues to demolish the pasta like a particularly angry cat. They lapse into silence, save for the sounds of their chewing, and Bucky tries not to get too lost in the tense air.

He hates seeing Steve so high strung. It’s painful, watching him stew so vehemently, and he never likes knowing Steve’s dealing with some internal sense of pain. Whether it’s anxiety or this particular brand of overwhelmed that Bucky’s learned these bad moods are, it’s hard. He doesn’t like when Steve’s upset.

Plus, he can’t remember the last time he’d seen Steve laugh. It hadn’t been anytime that day anyhow.

Which is a depressing enough thought that Bucky decides without much fanfare that he’s going to get Seve to laugh. Right here. Right now. Steve’s a stubborn little shit, but Bucky’s never once failed to cut through that wall of obstinance, so it’s really barely a thought as he starts shimmying his shoulders.

Steve looks up when he sees movement and impossibly, his eyebrows furrow further.

“Bucky,” he complains again.

“What?” Bucky asks innocently as he picks up his bowl of mac and cheese and starts to bop around with it, still chewing a mouthful of tuna and pasta.

“What are you doing?” Steve asks. He’s not eating anymore, and he looks wary as Bucky starts to sway his hips.

“What do you mean?” Bucky asks, discoing with his fork as he starts to round the counter towards Steve. “I’m dancing!”

Steve groans, trying to scoot away as Bucky gets closer. “Don’t, I’m not in the mood--”

“What do you mean you’re not in the mood?” Bucky asks, putting down his bowl and plucking Steve’s fork out of his hand. He’s careful to observe any signs of Steve being legitimately unwilling, but he seems mostly pliant, if not grouchy, as Bucky slips his fork into his bowl. “Dancing is for every mood.”

He coaxes Steve off his stool, even as Steve tries to go deadweight, and takes both of his hands in his own.

“No, it is not,” Steve shoots back as Bucky tries to twirl him, hips still swaying as he shimmies with his shoulder.

“Yes, Steven, it is,” Bucky insists before bursting into an off-tune rendition of Dancing Queen.

“Buuck!” Steve whines, but he’s fighting a smile now as Bucky jumps them around. Bucky ignores him, still singing.

“--Young and sweet, only seventeeeeeen!”

“Stoppit!” Steve complains, ducking his head as the smile he’d been fighting starts to break through. “Bucky, stop--”

But Bucky cuts him off as he dips him close to the kitchen tile, making Steve yelp and cling to his neck.

“--Feel the beat from the tambourine, oh yeahhh!” Bucky sings, as loud as he can. Steve’s hiding in his neck now, body vibrating with reluctant laughter, and Bucky twirls him out, before twirling him back in. “You can dance, you can jii-iive, having the time of your liiiife-- c’mon, Stevie, dance--”

“--No--”

“Yes-- ooooh, see that girl--” Bucky swings Steve’s hands back and forth. “--Watch that scene--” Reluctantly, Steve starts to sway his hips, and Bucky grins. Bingo. “--Digging the dancing queen!”

They bop around the kitchen a little longer, and by the end of Bucky’s (beautiful, in his opinion) rendition of the song, Steve is laughing as he steps up onto Bucky’s feet to let him dance them around. Bucky sways to a stop, holding Steve where he is. Holding him close.

“Thanks,” Steve says after a moment. Bucky can hear the grin in his voice. “I needed that.”

Bucky’s smile softens and he turns his head to brush a kiss to Steve’s temple. “I know,” he murmurs. “Anytime.” And really, there isn’t any reward greater in the world than getting Steve to laugh.

[shorkbrian]

Babysitter

Prelude - I do not understand how some people get turned on by spanking, but I still respect that kink. I could never lol I just think back to the days where I got spanked so hard I’d pass out or the wooden spoon would break haha.

Pairing - Bakugou Katsuki X Reader

Prompt - idk I just thought of babysitters being so flipping like “Im in charge here” and stupid and I feel like Bakugou would enjoy babysitting like someone just a few years younger than him cause he’d get such a rush of power. 

Warnings - NSFW, abuse of power, noncon, spanking, degradation, slight misogyny. slight masochism?

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/5E30LdtzQTGqRvNd7l6kG5?si=IG4WgPeSQf2_UzyLXMWR7g

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your mom was overbearing.

Here you were, a full-grown adult, and your mom was yelling her thanks to your “babysitter” as she rushed out the door.

You knew she was a bit protective, a bit hyper-vigilant and akin to a helicopter parent. But it was hard to be mad at her for it, not ever since dad had divorced her. She was terrified of something happening to you, of loosing the last thing in her life that she cared about. 

Still, it was hard not to feel a little bubble of irritation in your throat as you watched your “babysitter” wave to her as she climbed in her car. You didn’t need a babysitter, not at your age. And you especially didn’t need the gruff, surly man that had lived in the house across the street as your babysitter. You could take care of yourself, thank you very much.

And how come your mom didn’t trust you by yourself, but somehow trusted this Mr. Grumpypants that you had met a total of zero times. You had seen him once, when your mom’s car had broken down at her job and you had to go pick her up. 

You hadn’t minded, rolling up to the curb to see your mother animatedly talking to some blonde man with a stick shoved up his ass, his handsome face grimacing like he just sucked on a lemon dipped in hot sauce. Apparently she worked with him, the younger man a security guard for the complex her office was located in. You watched as his bored red eyes slid from your mother, over to you through the car window, his brow furrowing. The bored look had disappeared, and he regarded you with… curiosity? Contempt? It was hard to tell what emotion was hidden behind his eyes, underlaid so strongly with irritation and anger.

Mom had gushed about him all the way home, telling you details you didn’t really care about. His name was Bakugou Katsuki, he was single, 27, and wouldn’t you know - he lived right across the street!

Well, if she trusted him, you guess you should too. Didn’t mean you had to like it though.

And you didn’t, huffing as Bakugou closed the door and you turned back to your game, mashing buttons and sitting forward as you tried to beat this level.   It was ridiculous, your mom going over to his house a few days prior with a plate of cookies, asking the man if he wouldn’t mind coming and hanging out while she was away on some business trip. She had expressed her worry about leaving you - what if something happened while she was gone for a week? Someone could kidnap you and she wouldn’t even know until she got back!

Even when you politely reminded her that cell-phones existed, she was adamant; you were going to have someone big and strong stay in the house with you. It not only would keep potential burglars and thieves away, but it’d keep you safe, make sure you weren’t doing anything silly like staying up too late or eating too much junk food. It was embarrassing.

Some small part of you wanted to stomp your foot and whine at her, but that wouldn’t help you in trying to convince her that you were an adult. Once your mom convinced herself of something, nothing would be able to change her mind. Even when you pointed out that Bakugou was a strange man, she didn’t budge. 

“I see him everyday at work!” She had pointed out. “Plus, he’s a security guard sweetie - his literal job involves keeping people safe.”

Bakugou locked the door, before glancing your way. You felt his eyes on you, but you didn’t feel like acknowledging his presence, by gracing him with conversation or any sort of interaction. The man moved on after a second, walking behind you and into the kitchen. You heard him rustle in the cupboards, the clink of glasses, then the sound of water filling a cup.

Right - your mom had kindly showed him where everything was. She had guided him through each room showed him the guest room which she had made up for his stay, even walking him through the kitchen and showing him the contents of each cupboard. 

He came back into the living room with his backpack and cup full of water, settled himself down in one of the armchairs by the couch.  You didn’t spare him a glance as he pulled out his laptop, threw on some glasses, and settled himself in for… well, whatever he was doing. You were just glad that the two of you didn’t have to interact with each other.

You continued playing your game, occasionally getting frustrated enough to mumble under your breath at the TV as your character died yet again. This was going to be a long week.

----

You were taking a gap year after graduating, relaxing before you threw yourself into college and working. Right now, your days were spent playing games, scrolling on your phone and laughing at memes, going to the pool for hours on end, the library, bike rides, hikes… lots of activities that kept your mind and body occupied. But this week? Bakugou threw off every plan you made.

It was the second day, and you had gotten up early to go swim and goof off at the community pool for a few hours. It was fun, you could tan a little, cool off, maybe see some cute boys your age. 

When you got out of the water you had two missed texts from Bakugou. 

Where are you

Tell me where the fuck you went

Instead of answering, you huffed, wrapping your towel around your waist. It took maybe fifteen minutes to walk home - you’d deal with your overprotective babysitter then.

He met you at the door, throwing it open before you could even touch the handle. His face was drawn tight in a scowl, the blonde crossing his arms as soon as you stepped inside and shut the door behind you.

“Your fucking phone die? Or are you just ignoring me?”

You shook your head, irritated with how big of a deal he was making out of this. You went to the pool all the time, you weren’t going to die. “I was at the pool, chill dude.”

“Oh, I thought you just popped out to go fucking parachuting!” He spat, uncrossing his arms to gesture at your body. “I can see that you went to the pool dipshit. Why didn’t you fucking tell me, huh? You normally run off on your mom without a damn word?”

You stared at him, curious to see if he would burst a blood vessel with how worked up he was getting. He didn’t seem like someone that knew what the word “relax�� meant. Bakugou probably slept all angrily, arms crossed, lips pulled into a frown, eyebrows drawn low.

“Fucking hey, earth to idiot!” Fingers snapped in front of your face, and you recoiled, glaring up at the man in front of you. Before you could open your mouth, he huffed, rubbing a hand across his forehead. “Don’t fucking go anywhere unless you run it by me, understand? I don’t need you wandering into a fucking alley and getting stabbed or some shit.”

Snorting, you moved past him, not even bothering to answer. He was an asshole. Despite what your mother thought, you weren’t a child. You knew how to take care of yourself, you didn’t need some grumpy old guy bossing you around.  Said man was grinding his teeth as he watched you walk away, headed for your room. It probably annoyed the life out of him that you hadn’t answered, but he didn’t say anything. 

When you finished grabbing clothes for your shower, you came out of your room to see Bakugou leaning against the wall. 

“So you’re being a little spoiled princess, not even talking to me? That’s rich. You know I’m gonna be here for the next fucking week - you better make peace with that.”

“Dude, I don’t know what you want. I’m fine, I do this all the time. Just leave me be, and I’ll do the same for you.”

Bakugou grumbled something under his breath, but your skin was getting dry and tight from chlorine, so you ignored him as you slipped into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. You could hear his feet stomping away, and almost giggled at the sound. It almost seemed like he was the petulant child that needed a babysitter.

It didn’t take you long to rinse off, get all the chlorine and salt off your skin. Drying off, you quickly realized you forgot a bra when you had grabbed clothes - which was fine, you would just wrap up in your towel and waddle back to your room. Plus, the bathroom was directly opposite your room, and Bakugou wasn’t nearby, you could hear dishes rattling in the kitchen, so that wouldn’t be a problem. 

And it wasn’t, not until you were in your room, door closed, towel on the floor as you rifled through your dresser drawers for the bra you really liked.

“Hey princess, do you want-“

You only heard him as he opened the door, and by that time you were scrambling to snatch your towel up around your naked body. Bakugou choked on his words, face turning a flaming red before he slammed the door shut, giving you your privacy. 

Heart racing, you sat down on the floor, too embarrassed for words. That was awkward. 

“Why the fuck would you grab clothes, only to come back and change in your room!??!” Bakugou yelled from the other side of the door, a decidedly angry “thump” from where he banged his fist against the door.

“I forgot something, geez! Why didn’t you bother knocking?!?” You yelled back, your own face heating up.

“Holy fucking shit, just get some fucking clothes on, asshole. I’m makin’ pancakes and shit.”

Breakfast was an awkward affair, your gaze focused firmly on the perfectly cooked food on your plate. Bakugou was glaring at you between bites, obviously fuming. He was probably just as embarrassed as you were, but at least he wasn’t trying to make small talk.

----

Bakugou doesn’t appreciate how much time you spend playing video games, and it’s only the third day. He’s grumbled about it several times already, but you aren’t hurting anybody, and there’s nothing else for you to do, so.

It seems like the only thing Bakugou is willing to do is sit nearby, glare at you condescendingly, and mutter under his breath about how you spend your time. When you decided to run to the store to get groceries (there was a surplus of food in the house - you just wanted some air and time away from your “babysitter”) Bakugou had suddenly appeared, moving in front of the door and sneering. 

“Are you trying to fuckin’ sneak off again? I won’t let that shit slide twice.”

You huffed, shrugging on your jacket. “Bakugou, I was going to the store. Contrary to what you think, I’m not eight years old, and I can take care of myself. My mom’s just a helicopter parent. You don’t even need to be here, honestly.”

The man scoffed, his face souring. “You’re literally a fucking child. Didn’t you just graduate highschool?”

Stepping closer to him, you squared your shoulders, eyebrows furrowing as you looked up at the blond. “Call me a child all you want - doesn’t change the fact I’m old enough to do stuff by myself. Now-“ you gestured to his body “-please move.”

“No.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “And why not? You can’t just lock me in the house until my mom comes back.”

Bakugou’s head cocked, red eyes burrowing into your head. He grinned. “Why the fuck not? I’m in charge here, I get to make the damn rules. I say your ass stays here, and it’s going to.”

Clenching your jaw, you huffed, spinning on your heel. You weren’t going to be able to talk the bull-headed man into leaving you to your own devices. There was nothing left to do except shuck off your shoes, admitting defeat. It was so irritating - you didn’t need anyone looking after you, you were an adult! You were more than capable of handling yourself! Why didn’t your mom trust you? Did she think that you were too stupid to keep yourself alive and safe?

You left Bakugou at the door, grabbing a soda from the kitchen before flopping onto the couch in front of TV.  

Sure, you could read a book, do a puzzle, browse social media. But right now, you were feeling particularly angry, violent. You wanted to achieve something, finish quests, accomplish tasks. So video games it was.

Of course, that meant Bakugou sauntering back into the living room, groaning as he saw you back in front of the TV. But if he wasn’t going to let you go out, then this is what you were going to spend your time doing. If he wanted to treat you like a child, then you were going to act like one. Show him how much of a brat you really could be.

You turn on your console, select the game you’re going to be playing for the next few hours, and settle further into the couch, making yourself comfortable.  Reaching down to the coffee table, you’re about to grab the soda you had brought in earlier, but Bakugou beat you to it.

“Hey!” You whined, watching the blond pop the tab, take a long, slow drag of the carbonated drink. He smacked his lips and cocked his head, smirking down at you. 

“You shouldn’t drink this sorta shit, ’s bad for you.”

“Why are you drinking it then?!!?”

Bakugou shrugged. “‘Cause I’m in charge here. I get to do whatever I fuckin’ want.”

Huffing, you gave up the argument, starting to push yourself off the couch. Bakugou was one of those people that got off on power trips, liked being the one to call the shots. The best course of action here would be to just ignore him and grab another soda.

“And where the fuck do you think you’re going? I didn’t say you could move.” The blond man was standing in front of you, making it impossible for you to stand. He was so irritating - you couldn’t wait for this week to be over.

“I’m going to get something to drink, since you decided to help yourself to my soda.”

He moved out of your way, clicking his tongue before flopping down into the armchair by the couch. You glared at him for as long as you could, until the kitchen wall hid his face from view. Ugh, he was such a jerk. At first he had seemed somewhat decent, but as he got more comfortable around you, the man was turning into a self-absorbed tyrant. 

Whatever, you were only going to have a stupid “babysitter” for a few more days.

----

“Get off the damn game! Don’t make me haul your ass off that couch.” 

Bakugou threatened. He wasn’t very intimidating, standing there vigorously brushing his teeth like there was something wrong with them. The blond had already asked you two other times, and you had ignored him on both occasions. You were so close to leveling up, just a few more points.

If Bakugou wanted to go to bed when the sun was still up, he was more than welcome to do so. You however, had better things to do with your time.

You saw him stomp away out of the corner of your eye, apparently giving up on trying to tell you what to do in your own house. Good.

If anything, Bakugou should be grateful that all you were interested was playing video games and going to the pool. You could be out getting in trouble, doing drugs, rebelling against the system or something - but you were here, chilling and causing zero trouble. 

The sink in the bathroom ran, then clattering could be heard as Bakugou finished up his bedtime routine, putting his toothbrush away, washing his hands, yada yada.

He appeared back in the living room, arms crossed. His muscles bulged out like that, showcased by the sleeveless black tank top he was wearing. But you weren’t intimidated, it’s not like he was going to hit you or something.

“Alright, last chance. Turn the fucking game off, it’s your majesty’s bedtime now.” He sneered.

You ignored him.

“You seriously wanna do this princess?”

You stayed silent. Just a few more kills….

“Alright, you fuckin’ asked for it.”

The TV turned off, Bakugou yanking the cords out behind it.

“Dude, what the hell! I was so close to leveling up!!” You screeched, sitting up straight. Bakugou’s face was screwed into an angry frown, and he advanced towards you, walking with purpose. You were fuming, rising to your feet so you could get in his face, tell him off. He was acting like he was your dad or something, and he most definitely was not.

When the man got within an arm length of you, you immediately jabbed a finger into his chest, mouth opening to spit nasty words. Those words died when your hand was slapped harshly away, Bakugou still walking forward until he was crowding into your space. You tried to shrink back, but a rough hand latched onto the back of your neck, holding you still as Bakugou closed in on you, bringing your foreheads together.

“You are such a spoiled little princess. Think you can get away with shit, yeah? Never had a man in your life to put you in your goddamn place, that’s why, isn’t it?” 

You blanched, still trying to lean backwards, away from his overwhelming presence. It was kind of scary, how he was all up in your face, how his fingers gripped the back of your neck so tightly, how his face was so close to yours that you could feel his warm, minty breath.

“Bakugou, ple-“

“Nah, shut the fuck up. We’re past any point where you could’ve begged for forgiveness. I am so sick and tired of your bratty little attitude. You keep testing my patience, being a little shit, acting like you own the damn place. You’re gonna show me you’re fuckin’ sorry princess.”

A hand wrapped around your waist, another on your thigh, hefting you up with brute strength and slinging you over his shoulder in the blink of an eye. The swift movement made your head spin for a second, but you quickly adjusted.

“Woah, what the hell man? Put me down!” Bakugou ignored you, spinning on his heel and marching towards the guest bedroom. “Dude, put me down right now, this isn’t funny anymore. C’mon, put me down, I get it. You’re in charge, and I gotta listen. You can let me down now. Please?”

Your pleading went unheard, even as it got more and more desperate the closer to the guest bedroom he walked. When you passed through the doorway, you kicked at the mans stomach, tried to hit his back - you had a faint idea of where this was going, and it was nowhere good.

Without ceremony, you were thrown on the bed, the air getting knocked out of you with the impact, your head bouncing a few times on the mattress.  Bakugou turned, shutting and locking the door before he was back in front of you again, a vicious look on his face.

You scrambled backwards on the bed, holding out one hand as if to ward him off. “Okay, dude, wait, you don’t want to do this. Please don’t do this, you’re a good guy-“

“Shit, do you ever stop running your mouth? Calm the fuck down princess, I’m just gonna spank you ’till you cry, then we’ll be even.”

The idea was humiliating, embarrassing, degrading. But it was better than what you thought was about to happen. Bakugou grabbed your ankle, pulling you back towards him with a quick yank, sitting down beside you on the bed. The man patted his lap expectantly, before getting impatient with your hesitance and grabbing your hair, pulling you across his lap with a pained shriek from you.

“Now, here’s how this is gonna fucking go. You’re gonna sit there and take it, and you’ll be done once I say so. Now shut up.”

Without further ceremony, a broad hand slapped your ass, your shorts providing only the thinnest of barriers. You weren’t ready for the hit, so you lurched forward across the mans lap with a small cry. Another smack landed, and while you still weren’t ready, the sting wasn’t as jarring as the first slap.

SMACK

SMACK

SMACK SMACK SMACK

You tried to not whine, or cry, or make any noise, but it was hard. His hand was coming down with more force on each strike, and it /hurt/.  You could feel your skin throbbing underneath your shorts, red and tender, and you were ready to be done. 

Bakugou however, was not.

He kept going,

SMACK

Each hit harder than the last.

SMACK

You wanted to cry, trying to hold it in, just endure through the mortification of being spanked like a child.

SMACK

SMACK

SMACK

You couldn’t take it anymore, bursting into tears, skin burning, blubbering for Bakugou to stop, please.

The spanking stopped. 

The two of you sat there, you sobbing, Bakugou rubbing the skin of your ass over your shorts. Somehow, that hurt just as much as the spanking did, so you reached a hand back blindly, trying to catch his wrist and push him away. As soon as you grabbed his wrist, Bakugou delivered another savage slap to your behind, making you immediately apologize and drop your hands, let him pet and stroke your ass at his leisure.  It hurt.

You don’t know how long you both stayed there, Bakugou further irritating the burning, raw skin of your butt, you sniffling and calming down from the full-bodied sobs that had wracked your form earlier.  It had been long enough that you barely flinched when Bakugou tentatively fingered the waistband of your shorts, twisting up the fabric, as if he were hesitant to go further, but obviously considering it. You didn’t flinched when a decision was seemingly made, and a hand started slowly pulling your shorts down.

You flinched when the fabric slid over a particularly sore welt on your ass.

“What are you doing??” You panicked, trying to rise up, move away. A hand between your shoulder blades held you down, Bakugou’s gruff voice telling you to stay still.

“I just wanna see how it looks, fuckin’ chill out princess.”

It’s not like you could argue, so off slid your shorts. You tried to protest again when you felt fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties, but another swift slap to your rear had you keening in pain, quickly falling silent. You could let him assess the damage, but that was it. If he tried to touch you further, you’d bite a chunk of his skin off, go find your phone and call the police. 

With your lower half bared to the room, you squirmed uncomfortably, immediately stilling when Bakugou’s hand smoothed over the abused skin of your ass. He seemed fascinated by the damage he had caused, and you were sure that there were welts, maybe even bruises already forming. Your skin burned, and not in a pleasant way. God, it was painful.

There was so much pain, your skin somehow felt numb and on fire at the same time. You almost didn’t notice Bakugou’s hand dropping to your thigh, slowly beginning to wiggle it’s way upward, headed towards the little pink slit nestled between your legs. 

When his hand made contact with your pussy, you flipped out.

Almost literally - you rocketed off the man’s lap so fast that you almost flipped over onto the ground, just barely catching yourself at the last second. 

And then you were standing in front of the man, lower half completely bared, him staring at the space between your thighs, before slowly dragging his eyes upward to find your own. 

You turned tail and ran for the door.

A problem with your aforementioned plan of calling the police, was forgetting that Bakugou was a security guard. His job was literally chasing people down, subduing them.

He had you pinned to the door in a matter of seconds, chuckling in your ear. 

“Damn, I really was just only gonna spank your ass raw. You look goddamn delicious though, and it seems like you just haven’t learned your fucking lesson.”

You were hauled backward, a hand pulling your hair, the other wrapped around your waist. For the second time that day, you were tossed onto the bed, but this time you barely stayed for a second, already trying to scramble off the other side.  But Bakugou was faster, his hand around your calf and dragging you back to him with an iron grip. 

A scream tore out of your throat, and you kicked at the man with all your strength as you got closer, catching him square in the jaw. His head snapped back, but his grip never loosened, keeping you stationary while you tried to wiggle away. 

His other hand came up to massage his jaw while he slowly rolled his head down to fix you with the most intense, hungry look you’d ever seen a human wear.

“Ohhh, shit. You don’t even know what you just did, do you princess?”

You gasped at his breathy laugh, the way his eyes seemed to light up. Within a second, he was on top of you, face inches away from your own. You could feel his dick, hard against your thigh.

“Wait, you don’t have to do this-think of the consequences! Please, I won’t tell anyone, just let me go, right now. You don’t want to do this Bakugou, please, it’s not gonna be good for either of us-“

He ignored your reasoning, instead focusing on ripping off your shirt, doing the same to your bra. You tried to stop him, hitting and punching, trying to sink your nails into his back, claw at his eyes. You even resorted to snapping your teeth at his nose when his face got too close, turning your head to sink your teeth into his forearm.

Bakugou just groaned throatily, his eyes fluttering shut. Immediately, you let go, not expecting that response. That was supposed to hurt, why wasn’t he yelling in pain? The man lifted his forearm, watching blood start to drip from where your blunt teeth had punctured his skin. He was breathing heavily, straddling your legs, hunched over you like a dog.

The next seconds were a blur, clothes coming off, his hands manhandling you onto your side, his deranged laughter and low, excited swearing filling your ears.

You found yourself on your side, Bakugou straddling one thigh, holding the other up with his arm. He was lining himself up with your opening, rough hand guiding his dick to nudge against your entrance. You screamed.

“Stop it! Stop it, please! You can’t do this! Oh god, stop, stop, stop, don’t-“

“I can do whatever the hell I want, princess.” The man spat, seemingly unaffected by the way you thrashed your body. You tried kicking the leg under him, but his weight anchored it firmly to the bed. You tried kicking the leg he was holding in the arm, but his tight grip just became painful, squeezing you into place. You tried to sit up, to reach out and grab him by the neck and squeeze, but the position you were in was impossible. He knew what he was doing.

You screamed again, a sound of pained, fearful anger crawling out of your throat. Bakugou just laughed.

“This wouldn’t be happening if you had just been good and listened to me. We could’ve gotten along.” He gathered the spit in his mouth, before crudely spitting onto his fingers. “I would’ve left you alone for now, I mean, I’m not a bad guy. “ Bakugou slapped his spit-slicked fingers down over your pussy, smearing his saliva along your folds, messily rubbing it in.

“I’m an upstanding citizen, I keep little crooks and stupid brats from running things their way, that’s all I’m doing.”

You yelled as a finger entered you, probing at your walls. “That hurts! Take it out, take it out! You’re disgusting, get off of me! Stop-!”

Bakugou kept talking, pointedly ignoring your panicked whining. 

“Yeah, I’ve seen you before, and you’ve got a nice little body. But it’s not like I was just gonna up and hold you down. Good thing you’ve been giving me reasons all week though, being an absolute spoiled-ass princess, you’re so fucking annoying.”

Another finger joined the first, roughly jamming into your cunt, your juices beginning to flow and smooth the way. It was so stupid that your body was responding to this.

“I woulda never touched you, no matter how much I fucking wanted to, if you had just been good. I guess it works for me that you’ve been shit, huh?”

The man laughed again, leaning down towards your face to smile at you in a jeer, adding another finger to your aching pussy. The stretch hurt, it was too soon, but it felt good nonetheless. It’d been a while since you’d last messed around with someone.

When his fingers retracted, you gasped, face quickly blushing red. Another glob of spit was ejected onto Bakugou’s hand, and he quickly slicked up his cock with his own saliva, hissing as he first touched it.

As he lined himself up, you tried begging one more time. “Bakugou, Bakugou, please. Please don’t, you don’t want to do this. You can’t! Just let me up, please? Oh god, please, just let me go, I won’t tell anyone.”

He shoved the entirety of his cock inside with one, jarring thrust.

You screamed, voice cracking in the middle. The stinging pain of your ass was forgotten in the face of the jabbing, spiky pain in your lower abdomen. Bakugou hissed, eyes closed in bliss.

“God, you’re fuckin’ tight. You a virgin?”

Tears in your eyes from the unexpected pain of being filled so suddenly, you shook your head no. Bakugou clicked his tongue.

“Ah, I kinda figured. Slut like you probably can’t go a few days without a cock stuffing your cunt.” A thought seemed to cross his mind, and Bakugou’s eyes opened, peering down at you inquisitively, a slight twinkle in his eye.

“Is that why you’ve been such a demanding little princess?” You shook your head no vehemently, the pain slowly fading the longer Bakugou remained still inside you. “Holy fuck, that’s why you’ve been like this all week! You just needed a cock!” The man laughed before reaching a hand down to pat your face condescendingly. “Don’t you worry princess,  I’ll give you what you need.”

No further words were spoken, despite how much you wanted to scream and yell and curse at the man above you. He immediately drew his cock back, before thrusting into you again, quickly finding a mind-numbing pace that didn’t allow you any time to think.

His thrusts were smooth, steady, fast - it was hard, no, impossible to stop yourself from moaning at how good everything was starting to feel, despite how much you didn’t want it to. It was even worse when Bakugou’s hand found it’s way to your clit, beginning to furiously rub the little button as he fucked you stupid.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ like that?”

You ignored him completely, turning your face against the covers of the guest bed. Bakugou just huffed, increasing his pace ever so slightly.

It wasn’t long before you were gasping, moaning on every other breath, trying to hold yourself back from begging the man to let you cum. You writhed underneath him, trying to arch your hips back to meet every one of his thrusts, ride the hand that was rubbing at your clit so nicely.

Your orgasm hit you out of nowhere. 

It fizzed in your stomach, pleasure racing through you so quickly that you lost your breath, muscles locking up. It felt so good, you couldn’t breath, couldn’t move. Bakugou fucked you through it, smirking down as you obviously rode out your orgasm, his finger falling away from your clit before you could get overstimulated. 

A few more thrusts, and Bakugou pulled out, quickly moving to straddle your chest as he quickly jerked himself off. His hand made the most lewd sound, squelching up and down his length that was drenched in your juices. 

You were so blissed out from your orgasm, you almost didn’t mind when cum started splattering over your face.

You did mind, however, when Bakugou tried to rub it into your skin after he finished.  A quick snap of your jaws towards his fingers made your point clear, and Bakugou backed off.

“We have plenty of time to work on you, seems like you still need to be put in your place by the man of the house. Spoiled little princess.”

——

When your mom got home, you barely kept yourself from sobbing in her arms as she hugged you. You wanted to tell her everything that had happened, what Bakugou had done to you - but that would just make her more paranoid, fearful.

She would lock you in the house and never let you leave. Plus it was embarrassing. “Hey mom, by the way, the babysitter you hired for me, your adult child, raped me after spanking me so hard I bruised, and I couldn’t stop him!” Wasn’t a sentence you wanted to utter. You were weak, and stupid.

Bakugou watched in the background, his backpack slung over his shoulder, ready to head across the street and back to his own house. Your mom kissed your hair, finally disentangling herself from your arms, moving to talk to the gruff blond. You stayed by the door, watching Bakugou with narrow eyes.

“We were fine - although, you were right in having someone come over. She’s irresponsible as hell, I don’t know what could’ve happened if I wasn’t here to stop her from doing stupid shit.”

Your mom threw you a disapproving glance, quickly turning to thank Bakugou for helping the two of you out. She pressed money into his hand, but he told her not to worry about it - he got to eat good food, sleep in a nice bed, and the wifi was better here than at his house. Your mom gave him a quick hug, and you watched his face sour, before he quickly moved away from her grasp.

“Just let me know if you ever need me to come hangout with her again - I think it’s good for her to have a strong male figure in her life. And my wifi sucks, so it’s a win-win for everyone.”

Except you.

Your mom clapped her hands together excitedly. “Oh, that’d be perfect! What a nice young man you are, I knew you were trustworthy.”

Your stomach soured. 

Bakugou said his goodbyes, obviously trying to get out of the house and away from your touchy mother as quickly as possible. Your mother thanked him again, welcoming him over “at any time!” To use the faster wifi, as long as he wouldn’t mind hanging out with you.

Bakugou gave a gruff laugh, brushing past you on his way out the door. He turned, looking at your mother, then at you.

“I’ll be here to help out, don’t you worry princess.”

You slammed the door in his face.

He was never stepping foot in your house again, not if you could help it.

[rhetoricalrogue]

I have a vague outline for yet another detective.

August “Auggie” Lin

5’10” Actual Ray of Sunshine

Athletic build. Station’s go-to guy to open jars. Tried to start a WPD/WFD rugby team, but conflicting schedules got in the way. Plays a lot of basketball in his off hours with local kids. Takes part in the community’s wellness initiative and leads an adult running group on 5k runs every other Saturday morning.

Likes to take things apart to see how they work. Is semi-successful with putting them back together. Can fix simple appliances, upgrade computer parts, that sort of thing. Has built his own PC at home to create a “sweet gaming rig” and still gets his butt handed to him by groups of 13 year olds playing FPS. Prefers to play open world RPGs to wind down with after work, but will occasionally hop onto an MMO for marathon sessions if he has time or is on vacation.

“I need an adult”/“you are an adult”/“I need an adultier adult”

Gets carded every time he buys beer even though he’s 26

Perpetual baby face, cannot grow facial hair to save his life

Extremely happy go lucky personality plus younger looking exterior = everyone always underestimates how damn smart he is. VERY science-minded and observant. Goal-oriented: once he sets his mind to something, he sticks with it to the end.

Totally did not expect the promotion, but he takes it seriously and tries to do his best.

Loves the IDEA of cooking, has zero talent actually doing so and gets bored trying to learn so basically lives off cereal, toast, pop tarts, and instant noodles.

“These are my Agency co-workers: Agent Actual Mom, Agent 900 Year Old Mom, Agent Fellow History Buff Aunt, Agent AMAZING Girlfriend, and Agent Big Grumpypants Sister.”

Replaced his predecessor’s supply of booze with his own “secret” stash of snacks. Orders online so he has a bunch of different treats from around the world. Favorite types are super sour sweets or savory, crunchy snacks.

Has a solitary pet betta fish in a 10 gallon tank that takes up premium space in his apartment, but Mr. Fish deserves the best.

Wears professional-ish (dark washed jeans with pressed button down shirts and nice boots) street clothes when on the clock, hoodies under leather jackets in his off time.

Taught himself how to knit out of boredom but can’t really be bothered to do longer projects, so he has a huge collection of beanies and scarves. Everyone he knows gets personalized knitwear as Christmas gifts. Actually decided to start a Girlfriend Sweater for Farah, but has kept it a secret so it’s a surprise when it’s done.

SOFT ROMANTIC BOY. Gives amazing hugs. Someone please hold his hand.

[onewfantaesy]

Secret Siblings AU

The first time fans and other idols alike witness Taemin actually being his usual snappy self towards Jinki, Kibum, and Minho, it’s at one of the year end celebrations just a few months after Taemin’s group debuted. It wasn’t an award show, but idols were performing and mingling and just having a good time with fans to celebrate the new year.

Taemin was fifteen and tired. It had been months and months of constant promotions, concerts, repackages, variety shows, interviews - all on top of school. He may have bitten off a little more than he could chew. He and Kai both were exhausted, but they kept smiles on their faces and tried to enjoy it. Plus, it helped that their older members (especially Suho) did their best to help them out with everything.

“I’m not a gremlin!” Taemin whines, and he swats at Jinki’s hand and shoves him away.

Jinki, meanwhile, is having a blast. Pissing Taemin off is always so fun. Kibum and Minho are joining in as well. Jinki just keeps pestering him: poking at him, pushing his hat over his eyes, and generally teasing him.

“Better eat while you can,” Kibum says, passing Taemin a tray of little finger foods that don’t even look good. Then he turns towards Minho, “We can’t feed that thing after midnight.”

“I’m not a thing!” Taemin snaps. “Shut up!”

“Oh, Mr. Grumpypants,” Minho teases, going to pinch Taemin’s cheeks. Taemin gets his face away and chomps his teeth very violently in Minho’s general direction.

“I don’t wanna sit here anymore,” Taemin whines, suddenly looking very upset. Jinki had dragged him away from his table with his members to sit with them instead, and he didn’t like being the butt of every joke.

Fans can’t hear what’s being said, but they can see Taemin snap at them, hit them back, and make faces. It gets a lot of attention online very quickly.

Suho had seen it on Twitter from where he was sitting with the other three members, and he was quick to navigate through the tables to go find his youngest member.

“Taemin!” Suho calls, crouching next to his seat and holding onto his shoulder. “I need you to come back, Kai misses you.”

Taemin is quick to latch onto Suho and stumble after him. But he doesn’t miss the opportunity to stick his tongue out at Jinki, who only sticks his tongue out right back. But Suho shakes him a bit and hisses for him to stop as he drags him back to their table.

“They were being mean to me,” Taemin whines quietly, his hands gripping Suho’s jacket. “And I couldn’t remember where we were sitting.”

“It’s okay,” Suho says softly, squeezing Taemin’s shoulder. “That’s why I came and got you.”

Fans also notice how Taemin becomes very clingy with Suho the rest of the night. It isn’t actually New Year’s Eve yet, the event won’t last past 10pm, but Taemin is still tired and rubbing at his eyes. They had already performed for the night, and it had exhausted him. He not so subtly leans against Suho’s side the rest of the night, his head tucked into the crook of his neck.

“Hey,” Jinki says softly a little while later. “Are you tired?”

“Yes,” Taemin whines, pressing himself closer to Suho. “Leave me alone!”

“I’m sorry,” Jinki coos, sitting down next to him and pushing a hand through Taemin’s hair. “We didn’t realize you were so tired. We won’t bug you anymore tonight, okay?”

“Kay.”

“Be nice to your members.”

“I’m always nice.”

Jinki snorts, along with Chanyeol and Baekhyun. Jinki just pats Taemin’s head and goes back to his own table. It’s quite an interesting night.

[tkl-tee]

We’ve All Got Our Quirks (KiriBaku)

We’ve All Got Our Quirks (Kirishima x Bakugou from Boku no Hero Academia)

A/N: Hello and thank you so much for sending a prompt! Sorry this took so long rip. I need to say for future reference (and I’ve updated my bio) that I probably won’t write NSFW because I am confused about the new rules regarding NSFW content? So I am nervous to post anything like that aha.

So, this is SFW. Sorry for any confusion and thanks again for sending the prompt!

Disclaimer: This is a tickle fic.

Summary: Kirishima has something he’s been wanting to reveal to his boyfriend, Bakugou. When the perfect opportunity presents itself, Bakugou once again finds himself at his partner’s mercy. Kirishima confesses, Bakugou learns something new, and together they grow… and laugh!

Word Count: 1772

Kirishima was pretty comfortable with himself. He didn’t worry too much about his body or his clothes or his personality, and he sure didn’t worry about what his boyfriend Bakugou thought of him. He wasn’t cocky or arrogant, just comfortable. That being said, there was one thing nagging at him lately.

He was trying to work up the courage to tell Bakugou about a certain interest of his. He… liked tickling. Really, he loved it. He’d always known that there was something about it.

He enjoyed being tickled, but what he really craved was to be the one doing the teasing and drawing helpless laughs from his partner. He liked being the cause of his squirming and his special smile and his empty threats voiced around breathless giggles. These were sights and sounds saved only for him, and Kirishima craved them more often than he cared to admit.

He’d just recently discovered that Bakugou was ticklish, and he found himself taking advantage of every opportunity that presented itself: Pokes to Bakugou’s sides while they did homework; hugging the blond from behind and using both hands to dig into his stomach and sides; soft, tickly touches to his neck and collar bones when they made out; using his foot to tickle the other’s feet and legs when they laid down at night. It never seemed to be enough, however.

Part of him was nervous Bakugou would catch on to why he tickled him so often and part of him honestly hoped he would, just to get it out in the open. He’d been wanting to talk to Bakugou about it, to explain it. He was going to! He was just waiting for the right time and the right way to get it out.

He apparently wouldn’t have to wait much longer. The opportunity presented itself just a couple weeks after he had begun wrestling with himself about the whole thing. Bakugou’s parents had gone out of town so Kirishima was spending the weekend with him.

That first night they were sitting on the couch after dinner, telling each other about their days. Bakugou was reclining against the left side of the couch with his arm around Kirishima’s shoulders. Kirishima sat leaning against his side with his arm looped around his waist.

“-And that’s why that damn dragon lady said I had to stay home! Like it was my fault the dumb neighbor kid’s skateboard crashed into me…” Bakugou finished explaining that his mom got mad at him for breaking the skateboard, so he was made to stay home. Kirishima could only chuckle softly at him.

“You shouldn’t talk about your mom like that… and I kinda feel bad for that kid! But hey, at least you get to be here with me now!” he replied happily, tilting his head back and smiling at the blond.

“Yeah…” Bakugou still seemed annoyed but there was a softer look on his face. Kirishima rolled his eyes and laid his head back against his chest, feeling it rise and fall as he breathed. His eyes began to droop and he yawned lazily.

“Hey, turn on the light, m’falling asleep” he mumbled, poking Bakugou in the side. The latter jumped slightly but said nothing as he leaned to the side and reached for the lamp. Kirishima smirked to himself and squeezed his still-vulnerable side once the light was on.

“Sh-shit, noo,” Bakugou squirmed, squeezing his arm back against his side.

“Mmm, I don’t think so. You’re all Mr. Grumpypants tonight,” Kirishima replied, sitting up to better squeeze up and down both of his sides. Bakugou started to squirm and push at Kirishima’s arms. Kirishima already felt a bit giddy at the other’s reactions.

“Eijirou, I swear to god- EIJI-HI-ROU” Kirishima had shoved his hands under Bakugous tank top and was now squeezing at his ribs. Restrained giggles began to fall from Bakugou’s lips as he shot up, attempting to push Kirishima away from him.

“Katsuki, it’s not good to swear! A true man is too honorable to do that!” he said in mock-irritation. The smile on his face did little to sell it. He adored the sound of Bakugou’s laughter and the sight of his uncharacteristic smile.

“Stohohop, you shihihiiiit” Kirishima was unrelenting as Bakugou attempted to pry his hands away. He shifted so that he was laying on Bakugou, pushing him back against the arm of the couch.

“Your words say stop but your laugh says keep going,” Kirishima teased, wiggling his eyebrows. He crawled his fingers up to tickle the upper parts of Bakugou’s ribs, back, and chest. The latter was now grasping at Kirishima’s arms and laughing freely.

“Fuhuhuck ohohohoff aHAHA” Bakugou’s laughter increased a bit in pitch and his eyes were squeezed shut. His face seemed happy and carefree, and Kirishima couldn’t help but blush at the beautiful, flustered, laughing mess beneath him.

He felt butterflies in his stomach as he thought about the fact that this was the most he’d properly tickled his boyfriend. His attack on Bakugou’s sides slowed as he flushed a bit in embarrassment.

This hesitation was enough for Bakugou to finally break free from Kirishima’s attack. He pushed him away enough that he was able to slide off the couch. He sat on the floor with his back against the couch, leaning his head back against the cushion.

Kirishima righted himself in the middle of the couch and sat criss-cross applesauce. They sat in silence for a few moments as Bakugou caught his breath and Kirishima collected his thoughts. Bakugou gave a final sigh and cleared his throat.

“Jesus, ever since you found out I was sensitive you’ve been a huge pain in the ass!” Bakugou said in his usual “angry” voice as he frowned up at Kirishima.

“Haha, yeah… sorry about that man,” he apologized, avoiding his boyfriend’s eyes. He was still a little embarrassed, and he understood if Bakugou was going to get mad at him.

“Tell me something embarrassing about yourself." Kirishima blinked a few times, confused. He turned his gaze towards Bakugou who was staring back at him.

“You heard me, Shitty Hair! It’s not fair that you know something embarrassing about me, so you have to tell me something too!” Bakugou explained, his tone almost threatening. Kirishima was used to that by now, though. He was, however, nervous about what was being asked of him.

“I-I, well I…” Kirishima stammered, trying to figure out how to respond. This could be the moment he was waiting for, he could lay everything out on the table right now. But he was still nervous what Bakugou would think of it.

“What is it? I know there’s something, just tell me! Or I’ll have to beat it out of you,” Bakugou said, holding up a tired fist. Kirishima scoffed and rolled his eyes. At least the mood wasn’t super serious right now… he was gonna go for it!

“Well… there is something, but…” he trailed off, still working up the courage to get it out. His heart rate increased slightly and he could feel his face turning a bit red.

“But, what?”

“I’m just nervous you’ll think it’s weird!” Kirishima replied, furrowing his brows and biting his lip. At this, Bakugou got up and moved to sit next to him on the couch, looking at him curiously.

“Of course you’re weird, but who gives a shit. I still put up with you, don’t I?” Kirishima lightly snorted at his. For a big jerk, Bakugou was pretty good at making him feel better.

“Okay, so… well, I’ve actually been wanting to say something about this. Actually it kind of has to do with, um- I know I’ve kinda been t-tickling you a lot, but it’s because I… like… it. Doing it. To you.” Kirishima groaned and put his face in his hands out of embarrassment. “I know, it’s weird!”

There was a pause that seemed a lot longer to Kirishima than it probably was, before Bakugou responded.

“That’s it? I thought you were going to say you were into cross-dressing or something,” Bakugou said nonchalantly, leaning back against the back of the couch. Kirishima thought over what was just said for a moment, before letting out a sigh of relief and punching Bakugou in the shoulder softly.

“So what if I was?” he said jokingly, a small smile on his face. “So you’re really okay with it? You’re not going to break up with me or anything?” Bakugou scoffed and rolled his eyes at that.

“I wouldn’t break up with you for such a shit reason. And I don’t think you’re a freak. Is it like, a thing?” Bakugou asked, not judgemental, just wondering.

“No! I mean, yeah? I don’t know, honestly. I’ve never really been in this position, so I’m still unsure about some things.” Kirishima answered honestly. Bakugou nodded, understood.

“That’s fine, and I’m fine with it,” Bakugou smirked as he continued. “But I’m not just going to let you tickle me all the time with no consequences.” Bakugou made a point to crack his knuckles. Kirishima returned the smirk and held up his hand, hardening his arm.

“You can try, but this might be a fight that I beat you in! Plus you’re waaay more sensitive than I am,” Kirishima grinned as Bakugou launched at him, knocking them off the couch.

Bakugou landed on top of Kirishima and straddled his waist, immediately digging into his stomach. Kirishima didn’t even hold back his laughter as he squirmed and pushed at Bakugou’s hands.

He allowed this to go on for a few moments before he used his quirk to harden his torso against the attack. He then focused his efforts on attacking Bakugou’s armpits.

“Thahahat’s buhullshihihihit!” Bakugou twisted and jerked as he attempted to both pin his arms against his sides and pull Kirishima’s hands away at the same time. Kirishima kept up the attack as he sat up, leaning close to Bakugou.

“All is fair in love in war,” he said with a teasing voice, before giving him a quick kiss. He then moved down and blew a raspberry where the blond’s neck met his shoulder’s. His laughter spiked for a moment as he attempted to scrunch his shoulder and the side of his head together.

“You son of ahahaHAHAHA” Kirishima had moved one hand down to squeeze Bakugou’s hip repeatedly while leaving one to tickle under his arm. He hardly resisted as Kirishima pushed him back and reversed their positions.

Needless to say, it was an eventful weekend filled with much laughter- primarily a hot-headed blond’s- and Kirishima couldn’t be happier with how it turned out.

[nerdforestgirl]

Note: Since the anniversary of the 200th episode was a couple days ago, I assume Sheldon’s birthday was this week sometime.

“Happy Birthday,” Amy whispered in Sheldon's ear as he sat on the couch eating his cereal. Then she kissed his cheek. Then she moved on to grab a cup of coffee.

“No thank you,” Sheldon replied.

“No thank you to what?” Amy asked. This coffee wasn't for him.

Sheldon just sighed. He didn't want to do anything for his birthday. He had gone long enough with no one even knowing when it was. Now he was tortured every year with this kind of thing. He wished he could erase people's memories. However, his best bet for that was the woman who just wished him a happy birthday. She probably wouldn't agree to helping him erase her own memory.

“You don't want your gift?” Amy asked with a grin and a waggle of her eyebrows.

“Coitus is your birthday gift,” Sheldon reminded her. It wasn't really anymore. They had still done it on her birthday, but he liked doing other fun things with Amy too. They had gone to Disneyland for her last birthday in addition to their regular birthday coitus.

“That isn't what I was talking about, but I thought we agreed that you wouldn't complain about sex,” Amy reminded him. She was willing to do it on his schedule, but she didn't like to hear him complain. It made her feel unattractive.

“I wasn't complaining about the coitus. I have it on the schedule for tonight including you dressing up for me,” Sheldon explained.

Amy was curious about that, but she also wanted to give him his actual gift. She watched him pout into his cereal.

“Come on,” Amy said. “I have a surprise for you across the hall.”

“Not another party,” Sheldon groaned.

“Nope.” There was a special person across the hall, probably having breakfast with Leonard and Penny, but nothing that anyone would consider a party. Plus, only Sheldon would think about having a party at seven in the morning.

Amy grabbed Sheldon's hand and dragged him up and out of the apartment. They were both still in their pajamas, but since Sheldon was being such a grouch, Amy decided to get the ball rolling on this right now. She knocked a little on the door before just opening it.

“Morning, guys,” Amy said.

“Hey. She's still sleeping,” Leonard said.

“Oh. Mr. Grumpypants seemed disappointed that it was his birthday, so I thought I'd bring him over early,” Amy explained.

“That's Dr. Grumpypants to you,” Sheldon said to his wife. “Who is still sleeping?”

“Why don't you go into your old room and see?” Amy said with a smile. She nudged him forward.

Sheldon didn't like this. He didn't know who could possibly be in there, and he didn't want to barge in. He just stood still in the living room.

Amy rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand again. She pulled him back toward the bedrooms in the back. She knocked on the door.

“Come in,” she heard, so she opened the door.

“Moon Pie!” Sheldon's grandmother said excitedly when she saw Sheldon. “Happy Birthday!”

“Meemaw!” Sheldon rushed forward to hug the old woman. Then he turned back to look at Amy. He knew that his grandmother and wife didn't particularly get along. He couldn't believe that Amy would have done this for him.

“Hi, Connie,” Amy said as she rushed over to hug the woman as well.

“What?” Sheldon asked. He was very confused. The last time he saw these two women together, they weren't definitely not in a hugging mood.

“I heard the voicemail she left you when she couldn't make it to the wedding. I thought it was really sweet that she said we were the ones who were going to last. It turns out that I'm actually a delight when she got to know me, and I adore her as well,” Amy explained. She smiled conspiratorially at the old woman.

Constance decided that she could see what Sheldon loved so much about Amy when she got to know her. Amy was spunky and funny and quick. She really was a good match for Sheldon. It even looked like this girl was finally going to help Sheldon get his Nobel. That's why she decided to come see Sheldon. Well, that and the first class plane ticket that Amy somehow got her to ease the trip.

Sheldon didn't like all of this secret keeping, but he also liked his gift. He offered his arm to his elderly grandmother to lead her out to the living room. He couldn't believe that this was the surprise Amy got him.

From there, Constance led the four much younger people in making a special birthday breakfast for Sheldon. The trip had taken a lot out of her, but she still wanted to make sure her boy got spoiled on his birthday. The twins always got a big birthday breakfast from their meemaw every year until Shelly left home. He still missed it every year.

“Uhh,” Amy whined when her stomach was uncomfortably full following breakfast. “That food was so good.”

Sheldon nodded wordlessly. He was also too full for his own good. The food might have been better if his meemaw had made it herself, but this was a good alternative. Sheldon looked over at Amy. She always knew exactly what he needed. With her as his wife, maybe Sheldon could even learn to love birthdays.

[freeamoebas]

Bill Cipher was awake, as usual, at 3AM.

He absolutely refused to sleep, the idea of entering the plane of consciousness he used to dominate humiliated and (even if he’d never admit it) terrified him. Occasionally, he’d doze off for a couple hours at most, but that was once every couple days. Plus, those precious couple hours of sleep were usually disturbed by nightmares regarding the axolotl, the second dimension, or worse.

Bill was wrapped up in a fluffy blanket Mabel had provided, rereading Flatland by Edwin Abbott. The story was strikingly similar to how the second dimension actually was, with all the rules about shapes, sides, women, etc. The book reminded him of Liam, his irregular brother, and how he read so many illegal books about the third dimension. Odd that a dimension like this would have books about something as dull as the second dimension.

Bill realized it was probably because humans craved the idea of suffering. Or at least the idea of apocalyptic eras. Funnily enough, they didn’t seem to get too big of a kick out of his Weirdmageddon.

The demon’s body froze up when he heard creaks from the staircase. His heart raced, worried it was Sixer coming back to scold him after their little… argument, which resulted in Bill gouging his own eye out after a complete nervous meltdown. Now he had to wear this dumb piece of gauze to cover the wound up.

He found himself pulling the blankets closer around him, as if it were a shield of some sort. He relaxed when it was just Mabel, going to the kitchen to get some water. “Hi Bill,” she said, her voice thick with sleep. “Shouldn’t you be-” She was cut off by a yawn. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“Can’t.” Bill held the book close to his chest and warily eyed the girl.

“Why not?”

“Oh, I dunno, Shooting Star, maybe because sleeping wastes ONE THIRD OF YOUR PUNY EXISTENCE, WHICH ISN’T SAYING MUCH CONSIDERING YOU MEAT SACKS LIVE, WHAT, EIGHT OR NINE DECADES BEFORE KICKING THE BUCKET?” Bill’s shrill voice came out louder than anticipated. He hoped the Stan twins wouldn’t wake, he was way too tired to deal with them at that very moment. Mabel simply blinked at the string of words that tumbled out of the demon’s mouth.

“...Does Mr. Grumpypants need someone to stay up with him?”

Bill huffed at that, but made no move to stop her as the teen sat next to him on the couch. She peered over at the book he had still clutched against his chest.

“Yanno, I always see you reading that book. I tried reading it once! It was really boring,” Mabel said, bluntly. She paused for dramatic effect, but noticed the odd, almost irritated look on Bill’s face, and quickly continued. “Why do you keep reading that book over ‘n over again, anyways? I could show you better ones, if you want!”

Bill’s odd expression melted away into something tired and… sad? No way, Bill Cipher’s only emotions were irritating, angry and crazy laughing. Those were totally emotions, at least in Mabel’s mind.

“It makes me feel… nostalgic, I guess,” Bill finally murmured.

“Oh.” Mabel didn’t really know what else to say. How does a dumb confusing book make someone nostalgic? Maybe Bill’s mother- if he even had one- used to read it to him when he was little. That would make a lot of sense, actually. Weirdo.

They sat in silence for a few more moments before Mabel turned to him. “Want me to show you me and Dip Dop’s cool hiding place?” Her mouth stretched into a mischievous grin. She knew Bill had the tendency to hide in odd little spaces. She’d found him in closets, under tables, but usually he’d bundle himself up and hide under the blankets the Pines provided for him. “Blanket town” Mabel had affectionately nicknamed his most common hiding spot.

Bill glared suspiciously at Mabel, clearly not trusting her judgement of what she considered cool. Finally, he shrugged and got up, still keeping the fluffy blanket wrapped around his shoulders. “I literally have NOTHING better to do,” the demon sighed, and followed his ally to a not so trustworthy looking ladder.

The climb to the top was… rigorous, to say the least. Bill nearly fell off the ladder several times, not knowing completely how to put one foot above the other, and occasionally forgetting he had to hold onto the railing. When they finally managed to climb out of the chimney, they sat on the floor of the little flat above the gift shop.

Bill was panting as if he had run a marathon and Mabel was beaming, congratulating him on how well he did.

“Yeah yeah, you don’t gotta BABY ME, yanno.” Bill waved her off with his gloved hand, doing his best to sound irritated. He’d never admit it, but he actually liked Mabel’s pity praises. It definitely beat Sixer’s life lessons about how everything bad that has happened to the Pines family during the past 45 years was Bill’s fault.

Mabel giggled at Bill’s dull attempt at sounding mad and turned her attention up at the starry sky. One thing she adored about Gravity Falls was that there was no more city haze to cover her view of the stars. She could look up, and boom. Thousands upon millions of pretty twinkly dots in the sky, waiting to be stared at.

Mabel turned to Bill. “Do you have any alien friends?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows. Bill frowned at her, not entirely sure what Shooting Star was implying.

“Sure, kid.”

Mabel gestured for Bill to continue. “C’monnn, didn’t you liberate like… a bazillion dimensions? Tell me about a good one.”

Bill shrugged. “Shooting Star, you gotta remember that what I consider good and what you consider good are LITERAL POLAR OPPOSITES.”

“Okay,” Mabel said slowly. “Tell me about a good dimension… In my standards.”

Bill gave Mabel an exasperated look. He was way too tired to try to remember some puny dimension he had liberated eons ago, especially with his memory failing and all, but at the same time he was way too tired to deal with Shooting Star haggling for a happy story.

“FIIINE,” Bill snapped. He then rested his chin in his hand, trying to think of the best story that would shut Shooting Star up. A small grin appeared on his face and he finger gunned in her direction.

“Did Fordsy ever tell you about GOOD OLE’ DIMENSION 1610?”

And then he continued with an elaborate story about a world where the world hunger issue was solved, the majority of countries allianced with each other under a common socialist society, Bernie Sanders became president, superheroes were real, and much much more. He most of all emphasized how he had influenced the majority of these fortunate series of events, since he wanted at least one good dimension to come out of the countless dimensions he had ruled in the past.

Mabel listened the entire time with round, amazed eyes. Everytime Bill would add a new detail, she would always dramatically react, encouraging Bill to continue.

The story went on for a couple hours at least, Bill staying animated as ever the entire time. When he was finished, the sky was beginning to lighten.

The demon crossed his arms, grinning. One thing that definitely puts him in a good mood was talking about himself.

“So?”

“So…” Mabel’s gaze darkened, giving Bill an extremely serious look, making him worry he said something wrong. “That was… SO FREAKING COOL! And imagine having a superhero boyfriend… Spider-Man… if you’re out there… Why couldn’t you have done that instead of ruining our town?” The girl excitedly rambled.

After a good five minutes of talking, Mabel began to settle down, realizing just how late- or early- it was, and how little sleep she had gotten. She was going to need a lot of Mabel juice today if her and Dipper were going adventuring.

Bill laughed as Shooting Star analyzed his story, with that classic unhinged laugh that always gave her chills no matter how often she heard it. She was a little too tired at the moment to care about just how creepy Bill’s laugh was.

“I just so happen to know a g-” Bill was cut off when Mabel rested her head on his shoulder. His entire body stiffened.

For a split second Bill was tempted to shove the girl straight off the roof, but knew better. Ford would blast his head off without a moment of hesitation. So instead, the demon forced himself to relax and take a few breaths.

He hated being touched, but he realized the only times he’s ever been touched in this new body was when someone was punching him in the nose or yanking his collar so hard he choked. Mabel’s head against his shoulder was… comforting, in a way.

Mabel felt Bill stiffen. She braced herself to have his shoulder yanked away with a snarky comment following. It never came, though, and she let out a small breath of relief.

Mabel talks to Bill the most out of everyone in the Pines family, since she was the most sympathetic. Although, she was very aware to keep a distance, not wanting to be manipulated as Ford had been. Nonetheless, she was glad their friendship had reached a peak from annoying ex-demon living with her family to someone who tells her stories until she falls asleep.

“You know… you’re not that bad of a dude,” Mabel mumbled before her eyelids drooped and she dozed off.

Bill blinked at that final comment, totally taken by surprise. He hadn’t heard someone say that about him in… years. The demon’s heart swelled just a tiny bit, although he wasn’t quite sure what this emotion was called. In the future, he will discover this emotion is called friendship, something the All Seeing Eye hasn’t truly experienced in eons.

[sjazdoeswriting]

Writer meme! WIP edition!

Yay! I got tagged by the ever so lovely @amethystinawrites, and I’ve been trying to mull this over since! I have so many projects and WIPs, omggggggg...! I’m getting better at finishing things but I’m still better at starting them.

Anyway! Have a couple of WIPs from my current active projects! There’ll be both fanfics and some “original” works (aka works featuring RP-characters between me and friends), and I’m gonna start with the original ones. Gonna be a long one, tho, foiks, because apparently I can’t keep things short. So hold onto your seatbelts, and look under the cut ;) 

I tag: @alkizen, @sassynightcat, @totallyfrandom, @katastrophy, @oneamongathousand

Shift My Heart — Urban fantasy-ish/post-semiapocalypse Characters owned by @enlitenvarulv and myself

Caught in the moment as he was, Darien flinched when there was a loud yelp on the other side of him, and another beast like the one Alae had just felled tumbled down close enough to almost have its head on top of Darien’s lap. He stared at the beast, its teeth gleaming in what little light they had, and stumbled to his feet. Alae grabbed his arm firmly just as Darien was about to topple over anew from the force and the pain in his legs, snarling something inaudible — probably offending — before speaking up anew.

“Y’alright? Oliva’s gonna have me head if yer no’, so wo’k wit’ me, alrite?”

“Y-yeah, yeah alright.” Darien drew a few breaths and cleared his throat, glancing to Alae while trying to get his legs to stand firm. “What was that?”

“Changelin’,” Alae said as if it would explain everything. “Listen, we don’ ‘ave time tah explain bettah’ than tha’, alrite? Changelin’s a’ a pest and they be havin’ companiuns beasts, which will be furious when we kill the’ changelin’s an’ attack acco’dingleh. Yeah?

Darien exhaled, biting back the exhaustion, and gave Alae a wry, if a bit forced, smile.

“Damn it, Collins, you need to work on your English — soon I’ll be needing translating.”

“Fock o’, James,” Alae replied, but snorted on a laugh and let go of his arm. “Don’ go faintin’ on me, yeah?”

“Got it.”

Alae winked and returned to the battle. Remaining in place for another few seconds, Darien tried his hardest not to let his gaze stray to either beast on each side of him — the “companions” as Alae called them — or the changeling, instead only gathering enough strength to head back into the fight.

The fact that the changeling still sported hazy hints of red hair and freckles was something Darien furiously denied himself to even think about. Slowly but surely the lake returned to some kind of stillness, except for the indication of something moving just underneath its surface.

Darien refused to think of that, too. 

Drive — Dystopian modern day Characters owned by @lienwyn and myself

Gideon had to give the guy a lot of credit. Despite Gideon's knowledge of runners and their way of thinking, he hadn't actually noticed when the other entered his office.

Of course, turning around and finding a young man he hadn’t expected leaning against his desk wasn't the best way to keep said young man alive. The other got to know that first-hand when he, a split second after Gideon first noticed him, had to stare down the barrel of a gun.

"Whoa, easy there, big guy!"

The guy's hands shot into the air, palms facing Gideon in a display of being unarmed and non-threatening. Gideon didn't fail to notice the panic flashing by in the other's eyes, and ultimately that was why he lowered the gun again, eyes still on the other.

"You're a runner," Gideon stated coolly, holding back on information — like asking if the other was the runner — as a mean to force the guy to give his.

With the gun out of the way, the other tentatively lowered his hands, and the panic in his eyes gave way for wariness. His face, however, changed into that of a rather impressive condescendence.

"Damn, you saw right through me," he drawled. "What on Earth gave me away? My super awesome office infiltration skills, or the fact that you asked for one?"

"And a mouthy one at that, just my luck."

Gideon rolled his eyes, putting the gun away where it would yet again be unseen, then crossed his arms over his chest, and eyed the other more closely. The guy looked quite the part of a runner, with comfortable, practical clothes, good running shoes — worn, but that hardly came as a surprise — and agile body language. The multiple necklaces were a surprise though — Gideon had thought them quite impractical on a runner — but the wind tousled hair wasn't.

There was something familiar about him, however, although Gideon couldn't quite put his finger on what or why. Not yet, anyway.

"If you dislike my mouth, you—“ Something flashed by in the other’s eyes, and he smoothly changed track, giving a deadpan: ”I suppose you're lucky that my main job puts focus on my feet.”

Gideon would probably have smiled if it weren't for their situation. But because of the situation, he wasn't as inclined to be amused.

"Indeed I am," he said, voice drawing towards a growl, then moved over to get around his desk.

Stones — Urban fantasy, 1920-ish Characters owned by @lienwyn and myself

”Tsk tsk... Going at it again, Zayed?”

Sophie froze at the foreign voice, coming from outside her field of attention, and turned around to spot whoever had spoken.

It was with shock, and dread, that she realised there were not one but two more creatures coming up a nearby trail: one with green skin and purple hair, the other with blue skin – darker than Abeo's – and black hair with blue ends. She could not make out which one of them that had talked, since both had their eyes on Abeo, but her gaze was inevitably drawn to the blackhaired one, currently scratching his neck with a look of utter dismissal on his face.

Sophie wished that she would wake up from the crazy nightmare, wondering if this was all a dream and whether she was truly asleep somewhere – the bunkbed back at the excavation camp, perhaps.

”Zayed!”

The green skinned creature suddenly took a number of rushed steps over to Abeo, raising his hands as if to touch the other's arms and shoulders, yet flinched and lowered them again before he actually did, as if catching himself doing something he should not be doing. With surprise Sophie realised that the emotion displayed in his green eyes was concern.

”You stupid idiot!” he barked, making Sophie inch back, not wanting to gain the attention of yet another upset creature. ”You got yourself hurt! Severely too, or you would've healed already!”

”Do not concern yourself with my well-fare, Dex,” Abeo brushed him off coldly – using a tone of voice that had Sophie shiver – and looked between the newcomers.

To Sophie it seemed as if she and Isaia could just as well have been nothing but smoke.

”What are the two of you doing here?” Abeo demanded. The green skinned creature took a step back and gingerly scratched his nose with a faint grimace, while the black-haired one merely rested one hand in the pockets of worn pants and shrugged.

”A gate keeper unleashed its power. As Generals present at such a time we're obliged to go see what's going on, which you know very well. Plus—” he added, a lopsided smile curling his lips and his eyes flashing with something Sophie did not have time to identify, ”—the stench of blood can hardly be ignored.”

”Generals,” the woman held her arms out and bowed with grace and respect. ”These humans—”

”Yes, yes.” The black-haired creature waved dismissively with one hand, efficiently silencing the woman. ”Don't bother.”

”Stripe...” the green skinned one scolded with a sigh of resignation, as if having admitted defeat long ago but remaining unwilling to entirely let go of his principles.

The impression was strengthened further as the black-haired one paid no mind to the scolding, instead merely continuing as if he had not heard anything to begin with.

”Let me guess: these humans stumbled out of the gate, caked in blood and mud, terrified — or well, she was terrified, he was... feverishly obsessed? — and after but a moment's contemplation you, Beithari, took offence and attacked? Of course it didn't actually work due to the Viael, but it was a good try. Then Mr. Grumpypants over there—” he made a casual, sloppy gesture towards Zayed, ”—showed up, using his smarts and now we're all a happy family, wondering what to do with the naughty children tripping over our doorstep, yes?”

Guess Mama’s Night — Urban fantasy Characters owned by @katastrophy and myself

My fingers itch to get inside the building.

After the many times I've visited, I know the flaws in security. Most of them, at least. Enough to know that I'm able to get in and out without being seen. But the risk of being found trespassing on Vincetti grounds has so far kept me from attempting anything.

Today, my veins burn with yearning to see it. To the point where I've almost convinced myself that a quick peek cannot be too bad. That getting into the garden, to begin with, cannot be that much of a risk.

I don't even know why I want it anymore. If it's because I want to know if we do have ties to the family, or if it's because it's a challenge. That in itself should have been a warning sign grand as the mansion before me, but I completely blank it out.

One visit. One quick trespass.

That can't be too bad, right?

I manage two steps before I feel a pinch of dread, just between my shoulderblades, as if being watched. Stopping immediately, the feeling disappears, but I remain frozen where I stand, staring at the mansion before me, knowing what a stupid idea it is but still feeling the burning desire to go on. To go further.

Drawing a deep breath, I slowly turn away, taking a slow step back towards the square to leave. The whole thing is a stupid idea. I know that. I know it's bad on so many levels.

And yet...

Motionless once again, blood rushes through my ears, making all other sounds dull and distant. The streets are more or less empty, and I see no one. Hear no one. There's not a trace of anyone in the vicinity of the estate.

Which is why I turn back to it.

Staring at the gates surrounding the garden I grit my teeth, I draw a breath, and then I burst into running. It's no more than maybe twenty-five or thirty feet before I reach the gates, but the adrenaline's pumping in my ears so loudly that all other sounds are drenched. Using the low stone railing as a spring board and my momentum as a driving force, I manage to jump high enough to hold onto the top of the fence and swing my legs over the top. Pushing myself from the fence while still in the air is harder, and the gap between me and the pointy bits meant to scare intruders — like myself — away is uncomfortably small, but I make it.

I land unceremoniously on the grass, stumbling and toppling over to fall on my side. Even more so, I remain in that position, trying to catch my breath and calm my racing heart.

The whole ordeal of crossing the street and breaching the fence has taken no more than maybe four seconds, but my body rages as if I have run a marathon. Heart racing, lungs burning, muscles trembling — even my hands and feet are pounding.

Panting, I force myself to my feet, drawing further into the garden and out of sight from the street on reflex. There's no one out there, but I cannot stay in the illusion that no one would come by, and remember that anyone can come by, or look through a window, at any time. Despite the few steps it means my whole body's shaking from the effort.

Realising just what a toll it's been on me merely to get into the garden, I reluctantly start contemplating if going through with the rest of the plan will actually be worth it. I will have to cross the garden, scale one of the walls and climb the bannister of the third floor balcony, then get inside and look around. And then I'll have to have enough strength to get back out.

It just doesn't seem worth it.

But I can't deny that I'm as curious as ever. That the adrenaline from succeeding to even get into the garden is fuelling the sense of triumph. The feeling of invincibility.

I take a step forward, just about to make up my mind about whether to go ahead or go back, when the choice is taken from me.

The hand that lands on my shoulder leaves no room for arguments.

Put A Stake Through My Heart — Vampire the Masquerade inspired LARP Characters owned by @sassynightcat, @oneamongathousand and myself

For a painstaking second Jewel had to hold back another sob, her grip around the handle shivering while she tried to keep herself together. Easier said than done.

Accepting that the situation was as good as it was going to get, Jewel bit back the last of the feelings wanting to drown her, and stepped inside the room. She didn't feel like smiling. Didn't feel like gloating.

We have to become what we were meant to be.

”You know,” she said out into the room, voice flat, while she slowly moved over towards the coffin. ”You think you know someone, and then you learn that all you thought was wrong.”

She stopped by the glass box, resting one hand on its edge. No change in Beatrice face, no wavering eyes, or shaking lips. No changes. None what so ever.

”I really wanted to be of use to her,” she said lowly, closing her eyes halfway. ”I thought I would be her Childe, and hated my Sire for taking that from me. But now, she—”

Drawing a deep breath, feeling her lungs ache in protest when muscles no longer needed was forced to work more than ever, the cold knot inside her chest tightened even further.

”I hated you for taking my place.” She glanced down to Beatrice, reaching down and brushing over the other's cheek. ”I hated you for having her love, when she gave me nothing but false pretences. I knew, Beatrice, that she didn't want me. I always knew... I just didn't want to realise, didn't want to believe.”

Pulling her hand back, Jewel smiled, faint and mirthless. She still felt drained and confused from her experiences at the Elysium, and she wasn't sure what she was doing, telling Beatrice all these things. It wouldn't change anything, but risk everything if Beatrice ever got out of her situation. But she needed it. Jewel needed to talk to someone, so badly.

”Djinn says I need her and I suppose he's right... he was always more clear-sighted than me. Even Hopesworth treats me with more respect and appreciation than the Madame, and yet she's the one I've sworn my loyalty to.”

Jewel pulled up a knife from inside her bag, folding away the arms of her clothes and made a deep cut in her arm, letting the blood disappear down Beatrice's throat. She should've been extatic, she knew that. A month ago, she would've been, but now she wasn't. There was nothing she wanted to say, to gloat about . Beatrice was in a glass coffin in the dark, kept company only by blackness and rats, but Jewel half envied her nevertheless. At least Beatrice couldn't hold herself responsible for what happened to her.

”If I let you loose, would you forgive me?” she asked. ”Would I even want you to? I doubt it. What I did to you, you should never forgive. Never forget. I cannot forget the kindness of the Madame, but neither can I forget or forgive the contempt I saw on her face when first I saw her after my Embrace.”

She averted her eyes somewhat, pulling her arm back once Beatrice had been given enough.

”Djinn says I need the Madame. That I have her. That he wish he could return to Germany. I don't have the Madame — I never will. I understand that now. The Madame will never accept what I am, never love me like she did when I was human. I was never going to be hers — she would never have let me be anything to her more than a project. Next to Elias, next to you, I was nothing but a moment of interest.”

Bitterness crawled up her throat and spread through her veins like poison.

NOW, FANWORKS!

Jackknife — AC:Liberation, modern AU Aveline/Gérald

“JACK KNIFE”

Aveline studied the name of the hair salon, displayed in big, bold letters on top of a red brick building. The general appearance of the building had her hesitate, its splendour gravely diminished by a construction scaffolding on one side, and a rugged-looking coffee shop on the other. A green sign hanging on three quarters outside the coffee shop had probably once stated its name, but years of exposure to the elements had left only a hazy "L" and "Z" clear enough to be read.

Nothing in the sorry sight before her made Aveline inclined to step inside the salon, and she had doubtlessly left if she hadn't been personally recommended to visit the place in wait for her regular salon to open up after renovations. Connor had apologised for not being able to give a personal review of the place, but he assured her that at least half a dozen of his afro-amerikan classmates had recommended it as a must go-to.

Aveline was beginning to think that these women were either blind, enjoying something completely different than her, or simply wanted to give bad advice. Seeing as Connor couldn't lie to save his life, Aveline couldn't blame him for the possible disasters that was to come.

Despite her suspicions and doubts, Aveline eventually sighed heavily and moved forward, decidedly stepping over the threshold to the salon without giving herself chance to leave.

She really needed to have her hair tended to, and she didn't really have much trust in the average, American-oriented hair salons — good reputation or not, she had found through personal experience that few had adequate knowledge about african-american hair texture and style.

What did she have to lose on trying this one, too? If it turned out a bad experience she could simply not return.

The inside of the salon gave a marginally better impression than the outside. Things were clean, for a start, and a soft, soothing melody played over the loud speakers. Two other patrons were already there — one waiting calmly in a dressing chair, a fashion magazine spread over her lap, the other tended to by a hair dresser, currently getting their hair dyed from the looks of it. Aveline believed the waiting patron to be latina, but the one being dyed did seem to be african-american.

Aveline was suitably calmed by this reassurance.

Simbots — The Avengers Steve/Tony

If Tony hadn't known better he would have thought that Steve Rogers was deliberately ignoring him. The ever so stoic man with the ridiculously blue eyes had been nowhere to be seen the past week and the only time Tony had seen him – standing in the kitchen, talking to Clint about whatever they talked about when they were alone – the other had not even graced him with more than a brief glance before decisively leaving the room.

That had been four days ago.

Tony crossed the space between two workbenches in his lab as if he owned the place — oh wait, he did — and picked up a pair of red gloves: repaired and modified after the last pair had been blown to bits by, well, Tony himself.

”JARVIS, enemies”, he commanded the AI, putting on the gloves just to feel a spark of almost childish delight as the circle in each palm started glowing.

”I wouldn't recommend it, Sir. The tests are yet to be completed: the last reading suggested that the synchronisation link is still unstable.”

”Don't worry so much JARVIS, it's bad for your circuits. I'll be fine”, he replied and loosened up some tense muscles. ”Deploy the simbots.”

”Yes, Sir.”

Six blips were heard from a wall, from which six spherical robots about the size of baseballs came to life, hoovered momentarily in the air and then started spreading out in the room. A moment passed while the bots lit up a circle of blue light in their midst, then JARVIS' voice echoed in the room anew.

”Simbots ready, Sir. Shall I give the command?”

Tony jumped twice where he was, drew a deep breath, and nodded firmly.

”Yes.”

At once the six bots shivered in unison, the light circles flashed and suddenly a sharp and scaringly vivid giant spider crawled over the cars and benches in the lab while a snarling, two-headed man-dog came at him from the other side. Both sported a glowing blue circle, indicating their weakest spot.

Tony's fingers danced as he cocked his head to one side.

”That's it, come and get me,” he mumbled under his breath, feeling the familiar tingling of adrenaline under his skin.

King of Hearts — The Losers Jensen/Cougar

"Seven of Hearts."

Pooch groaned and relucantly put the card down. Jensen grinned and winked at him.

"Queen of Clubs"

Cougar silently put a card down without moving a muscle.

"Oh yeah, I'm on a roll!" Jensen looked at his cards and grinned. "Alright! King of Hearts."

No one moved, and Jensen moaned in disappointment — and indignation.

"Come on! One of you has it, because I sure don't."

"Hey, Losers," Clay shouted in the background, making them all look towards him in a hearbeat. "We're heading out."

Without a word they all moved to follow order, but when Pooch gathered the deck Jensen couldn't deny himself the sneakpeek — only just catching the king of hearts disappear from the hand Pooch had had.

Snorting, Jensen elbowed the other man in the side and raised an eyebrow:

"What was that you said once, Pooch? 'The Pooch may lie, the Pooch may steal, but the Pooch never cheats'?"

The other man gave him an unimpressed glare and snorted.

"Those were Cougar's cards."

"Yeah right." Jensen grinned.

The fact that Cougar only gave them a long, level glance at their exchange of words didn't exactly point in his favour, but Jensen was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Kittens — The Losers Jensen/Cougar

Jacob Jensen never had, and never would, deny that he was a major Cougar fan. Cougar was amazing in every sense of the word. Sometimes, Jensen would even think that Cougar was perfect, before he remembered that perfection was, in truth, boring, and Cougar was everything but boring. So perfectly imperfect it was.

Some would say that there were no imperfections about Cougar, of course. Jensen scoffed at their ignorance. Sure, he himself hadn’t found many either, but Jensen blamed that on the fact that he clearly looked at the guy with rose-tinted glasses.

Jensen had once contemplated custom ordering rose-tinted glasses, just so that he could walk around making that kind of commentary and still be taken as the major goof everyone thought he was. Perhaps it would’ve felt better to be able to say things out loud, even if no one would believe him.

Then he remembered whom he’d make the comments about, and abandoned the idea. While Cougar didn’t seem to catch onto things that Jensen left unsaid, he had a frighteningly astute ability to tell when Jensen lied and when he told the truth the moment the words had left his mouth.

Sometimes, the sheer implications of that made Jensen light-headed.

Like that time in Canada, when Jensen lied about having no problems with his assigned room. It had just been an over-night stay planned anyway, and he was well versed in how to stay up around the clock and still be efficient. Not only had Cougar caught the lie: two minutes and eight seconds later, Cougar, gear hoisted casually over his shoulder, stepped into Jensen’s room, and simply stated “My room’s too big. Switch?”. While confused out of his wits, the words instantly made the knot in Jensen’s stomach loosen. At the time he could’ve kissed Cougar out of relief, preventing himself from doing so by throwing out a “Sure, Cougs,” and hurriedly gathering his gear and technics. He left the room as quick as he dared without making it seem as though he fled from it, reminding himself to actually order that perhaps-not-entirely-legal sniper rifle ammo he’d read about the other day for Cougar.

Fini!

[newtsceo]

Song of the Fool

Of course, I try out the year they decide the first two episodes of the season are going to be live. I went through so many auditions just to get on the show, now I not only have to try to impress the judges, but I also will be viewed by the nation in real time. I wish for death. By the way, I'm going to be on The Voice. That's the show I'm talking about. Which is funny because I couldn't sing until recently. Then I decided to try my luck and audition. Now I'm actually going to sing in front of people. ***    So get this. I'm driving home from work. It's just after lunch on Monday. I've finished all my work and my boss said I could take the rest of the week off for the holidays. I'm just thinking about what a good weekend I'm going to have. I'll make some food, turn on the TV, and probably fall into a coma after gorging myself with macaroni and cheese and hot chocolate. I can relax and maybe play some board games with my friend Noel and roommate Asher. I'm so ready for this calm weekend as I park. This is where my dreams are ruined. I open the front door, thinking all will be fine. All is not fine. There's a strange man I don't know crying in my living room. Nope. I'm seeing things. I close the door. I open it. A random guy is still wailing. Once again, I close the door. I open it and he's gone. Just kidding, he's still there. Is he crying at the ceiling? I look up. Of course, why wouldn't I expect to see a sword chilling right above him? I walk in and, as I do, I notice that there are a bunch of random holes in my backyard. I'm not sure I want to know.    “Who are you? What are you doing in my house? What happened?” I slowly approach and try to keep a calm tone. I'm sure I didn't do all that well, though. He starts screaming. What have I done? Okay, so it's something about a massive fight and losing a sword then not finding an amulet. After that everything's gibberish until he stops screaming.    “Wait, what are you doing in my house? I don't know you. Why are you here?” He says - like I'm the intruder.    “What are you talking about? This is my house; you're the intruder. I just wanted to spend a nice day at home but-”    “Then you shouldn't be in my house. Otherwise, you could-”    “But this isn't your house, this is my house. That's why I'm here.”    “Well, you're sadly mistaken, as this is my house and you're trespassing.” I start heading out. “HA! I knew I was right and I could get you to leave via the truth and-” I come back in with a nameplate reading “ALASTAIR MEYERS/ASHER EVANS.”    “Most people call me Charlie, though. Alastair's kind of weird and my classmates said I reminded them of Charlie Brown. Anyway, would you like to show your-”    “Woah, who's that?” My roommate interrupts. I'm not fast enough to answer.    “I'm Derek Marion! Sorry for barging in like this, I thought this was my home. Do you ever just have those kinds of days?” Asher responds with yes and me with a begrudging no.    “Come on, Charlie. Stop being so grumpy all the time. He said sorry.”    “Yeah,” adds Derek arrogantly.    “Asher, come in here and look at the ceiling.” He walks in confused, but he understands as he sees the sword.    “He-? How-? Wh-? He's so small? How did he get it up there?”    “I didn't, actually. A knight in shining armor did.”    “Great,” I mumbled. I hear a car door. Who is it now? It's Noel. This should be fun to explain. “You know what? I'm making hot chocolate and getting some food. Then we can try and explain everything to Noel.” Derek looks strangely excited. I hand the nameplate to Asher. “Also, please put this back.” I walk out.    “Noel? How does she come into this?” Noel bursts in and immediately starts on whatever story she came over to tell us. “Oh. That's how.”    “ANYWAY. SO, MY UNCLE, you know the one who came over that one Christmas with a giant pig mask on, HE CALLS ME TO TELL ME THAT HE LEFT THE BABY ON THE BUS AND HE HAD TO TRY AND STOP IT BUT IT WAS ONLY MISSING A FINGER AND NOW IT'S ALL GONE-wait, who's that?” She stops and points at Derek.    “I'm Derek Marion! I thought this was my house and it's not, but these two were so kind and haven't forced me out.” Not for a lack of trying, I think. “You must be Noel! It's so nice to meet you! We have much to discuss!” I leave the kitchen to see Derek vigorously shaking a confused Noel's hand and trying to coax her over to the couch. “I mean, I thought it'd be a lot harder to finder you, but here you are!”    “And what exactly do you need from her?” He finally stops shaking her hand so he can look at me. He looks dumbfounded as if I asked where the seahorses were in water polo. “What?”    “She- You've known her this whole time and- I mean- How do you not know-?” He turns to Asher, “Do you know?” When he's met with a baffled look he turns to Noel. “You know, don't you?”    “Do I know what? I haven't understood a word you've said after your name.”    “Do you really not know? Are you who I think?” He collapses dramatically on the ground. I walk over and turn on the TV. “Really?”    “Hey, you interrupted my plans, not the other way around. Also, she's probably not who you're looking for.”    “HEY! I could very well be who he's looking for!”    “I'm looking for the Jesus incarnate.” I flash Noel a smug look. The defeat shows on her face. “I got a message saying that the name would be Jesus and, well, Noel is one way of saying it.” He pulls out a paper about the size of a fortune from a fortune cookie.    “Let me see that.” Asher usurps the paper and exclaims, “It says Jesús ...and it says that he would be 15.”    “Oh. I thought that was a smudge. Plus, she looks like she could be 15. I was wondering why she was skipping and why you allowed that.”    “I'M JUST SHORT!”    “...Right. Well, I must be on my way. I need to find Jesús, apparently.”    “Well, there is a high school down the street if you wanna look there, Asher even has a friend who works there,” I tease. His face goes bright red and you can tell there will be yelling once Derek leaves.    “Great! Why don't you all come and help me?”    “Wait, what? NO. I mean, we have lots of important things to accomplish here.”    “Well, you did mention that you didn't have any plans this weekend and you have the whole week off. Why can't we go?” Asher has an evil smile on his face.    “Yeah, let's go! It'll be an adventure!” Noel starts jumping for joy.    “C'mon, Mr. Grumpypants,” Derek coaxes in a funny voice. He then returns to his normal voice, “Don't be a hater! Come on!”    “Y'all have fun with that. I'm not wasting my weekend.”    “By y'all I think he means you both because I'm not going,” Asher stated.    “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, YOU BOTH HAVE TO COME! YOU CAN'T MISS OUT ON THIS! WE NEED TO GO FIND JESUS!”    “JESÚS!” Asher corrected.    I walk over to Asher and whisper, “We can't very well leave her alone, can we? Especially with him.” Asher agreed under protest. Noel and Derek bound excitedly to the car while we predict what will happen.    “I'll drive!” Derek claims.    “No, you won't,” I instruct. I, obviously, won that dispute. I drove to the high school and I had barely parked before Derek was out of the car. We rush after him and into the school. I don't know what he told the front desk as a reason for needing a student that wasn't even part of our family, but we got the information we needed; Jesús was already pulled out of class by a man because of “religious reasons” and wouldn't return for the rest of the day. Asher asked if he could see his friend, Ethan Neely, in class, as he was the chorus teacher. The secretary processed him and let him in but said we had to stay outside. “Don't keep him too long, the students might suspect something.” Then we headed to the car. About 5 minutes later we saw Asher emerge from the school. Ethan was with him. This came as a surprise to us. Derek, unfortunately, moved up with me and we set off with 3 very uncomfortable people in the back. We get on the highway and we couldn't decide on a music station so there's just an uncomfortable silence. “A couple was walking in St. Petersburg Square on Christmas Eve,” I start. I can see Asher and Noel in the back hoping this isn't a pun. Sorry. “They feel a slight precipitation. 'I think it's raining,' says the man. 'No, it's snowing,' replies the woman. 'How about we ask this Communist officer here? He is always right!' exclaims the man. 'Officer Rudolph, is it raining or snowing?' 'Definitely raining,' Officer Rudolph replies before walking off. The man turns to his wife with a smile. 'See? Rudolph the Red knows rain, dear.'” Everyone just glares at me. I smile back.    “Well,” starts Derek, “at least we know this ride can't get any worse.”    “WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?” The three in the back scream as we race down the highway looking for an abducted child. Nothing went wrong for a few minutes until my gas light turned on and I had to, sheepishly, pull into a gas station.    “You didn't fill up your tank before going on an adventure?” Derek questioned.    “Hey, I wasn't expecting to do anything this weekend,” I say as I got back into the car. I pulled back onto the highway. Derek, so I wouldn't tell puns and there wouldn't be any silence, started reading every sign we passed on the highway. I stopped listening until he started mumbling.    “Turn right...That's where I messed up. I turned right... GO LEFT HERE!” His mumbled turned to an enunciated roar. I swerved 2 lanes over and exit the highway. One side of the road has glamorous houses that look like mansions. The other had plain brown buildings that looked like they belonged to a strip mall. We turned into one of the actual strip malls when Derek finally told us what he saw. It was a sign that said something about wondering what would've happened if you turned right so turn right now to visit a psychic. I told him that he was crazy, but he got out of the car and headed toward the building. I was fine with leaving; the others followed him while trying to hide their excitement. I headed in; when I got in there I found Derek confronting a man twice his size about who knows what. There was a young Hispanic boy next to the bigger man.    “You're Jesús, aren't you?” I wonder aloud. Everyone turns around and the small boy nods. “Do you need help?” He shakes his head.    “Quite the opposite, I'm here to help.” Derek looks at the other man.    “Help with what? What kind of crazy delusions have you put in this boy's head?”    “I didn't put any delusions in there, actually. I simply told him the truth,” the man stated matter-of-factly.  In his odd manner of speech, he continued, “The truth is I have a special sword, with which I might not but kill the Flibbertigibbet and keep that gent safe. I've been did chase by goons and combated those folk in thy house. I eke need to find an amulet yond controls the Flibbertigibbet to help me kill it.” Confused glances are shared by everyone.    “Basically, I'm Jesus and we have to go kill the Anti-Christ. The sword that was left in your ceiling is the only thing that can kill it and the amulet, which is somewhere in your house, is said to help control it. Thus, killing it will be easier with the amulet.”    “So we need to go back to my house to get the sword and find the amulet?”    “Yes.”    “Let's go, then.” So we drove back to my house only to find more confusion.

   We got to the house and everyone was chattering. So sure we were going to find the amulet, get the sword, and easily get through this mess. We walk in to find the sword gone. Yay. However, the team didn't completely lose hope.    “As long as we're here we might as well look for the amulet. It's said to control the Anti-Christ and we can use all the help we can get,” the larger man, Jacob Spencer, advised.    “I guess that makes sense,” Derek unnecessarily added. Then everyone started digging in the backyard to try and find it, except Jesús. He was instructed to search the house. After several hours of looking, we reconvened and decided that digging was getting us nowhere, especially since we didn't know what we were looking for or where to look. Then I noticed that I had left the TV on this whole time and The Voice was on. I went to turn it off when Jacob stopped me. He had noticed some strange girls on the TV, who were strangely engaged during one artist's performance.    “THAT'S HER! THAT'S THE ANTI-CHRIST! THOSE ARE HER GOONS!”    “The Anti-Christ is on The Voice?” Disbelief oozed out of my statement, as much as I kind of tried to control it.    “Well, I mean, it may not be exactly what you expected, but that's DEFINITELY her,” sheepishly replied Jacob. “There's no point sticking around here. The amulet helps, but we need the sword. I can almost guarantee that those goons took it. We need to go.”    “Almost guarantee? Why should we follow someone who doesn't know? How can you even begin to guess?”    “Because that one was here during the fight when I had to leave the sword.”    “During the what?”    “There's no time to explain. We need to go!” Jacob ran out. Derek shrugged at me and followed. The others fell into place. I turned off the TV and walked out to see them all hunched over by the car. I had the keys. ***    I'm in my dressing room. I just finished my song and I'm on Bastion's team. I can almost go home and sleep! The show ends in 10 minutes, then I can leave. There's a knock on my door. Of course. Leaving is never that easy.    “Come in,” I call, expecting Bastion to walk through and talk to me about training and such. Instead, 3 girls walk into my room weirdly in sync. And there's a sword. I scream like any logical person would. You know, why set up a defense when you can ruin your vocal chords as you're on a singing show? As they approach me Bastion runs in, followed by his poodle (Bastion the Second) and Lhasa Apso (Kaine) that he takes everywhere. The girls turn around and swing at him.    He dodges and mumbles, “Not my gay ass.” He pulls his dogs closer to him. Then security showed up and disarmed them. One put the sword in a detainment room and the other guards took the girls to the police station.    “Well...that was weird.”    “Yeah...So, uh, good night.” His dogs won't stop barking. He picks them up and starts leaving.    “Yeah, right, bye.” We head out. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. ***    We drove around fifteen minutes to get to the set. We arrived and everything had shut down. I guess someone forgot to lock up? I mean all the doors are open.    “HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WE'RE MAKING A GAME PLAN!” Jacob yells. He's a self-appointed leader.    “Okay, well, the door was open, so I figured we'd go in and look around. As long as we don't open anything that's locked we can make an argument that (a) we didn't know we weren't supposed to be in here and (b) that it isn't breaking and entering. Not that you'd have a problem with that,” I spit back. He grumbled and entered the building, the others following suit. Derek and Jacob, Asher and Ethan, and Noel, Jesús, and I made up the teams. We looked around but didn't find anything interesting. We met everyone by the stage. No one found the sword, but there was one locked room. We decide to deal with that tomorrow and stay in a hotel. We got a suite and went to our respective rooms. “Good night.” No one replied. ***    Hello. It is I, your third person narrator because everyone else is just too subjective. So Jacob left everyone in the hotel without leaving a note or waking anyone up or anything. He also left in an entire suit of armor, complete with a sword. Mind you, it wasn't THE sword. Still, he managed to walk out of a hotel and into a TV set in a suit of armor with a sword and not get stopped. They probably thought he was a background dancer or an extra or something. Anyway, he's in Ignacia's dressing room, trying to confront her about being the Anti-Christ. She's now known as Christa on the team because it's easier to say. Man, do I love the irony. Also, she has no idea she's the Anti-Christ. Bastion's there too; his dogs are being groomed today. Everyone's really confused. Oh, Charlie and Asher just woke up and figured out that Jacob is gone. They're livid, so they're going to leave and do the same thing that made them angry. Jacob just saw some goons in the hall and locked himself in a room with Christa. There goes the electricity. No phones are working or anything. When the power goes out all the other judges, contestants, and such look around and, those who don't die from goon attacks, lock themselves in their rooms. Bastion and Jacob are both on the ground crying. Jacob's locked in with the Anti-Christ and Bastion can't take his special “me time” before the show. Asher and Charlie leave the hotel to find a giant dome around the building. They just look at each other.    Asher asks, “Have you ever seen The Shawshank Redemption?”    Charlie responds, “Yeah, why?” Asher pulls out a plastic spoon. “Um...”    “We've all had that kind of night.”    “No, we haven't. So you plan to dig with that?” Asher started digging, looking Charlie in the face the entire time, determined to prove this wasn't a stupid idea. Jacob's now barricading the door so the goons can't get in. This goes on for about 2 hours before he finally runs out of mobile objects. Asher finally reaches an entrance to the tunnels under the building after Charlie made several bad puns (like “You know, the invention of the shovel was groundbreaking”). They go into the tunnels and find that all the entrances were blocked off. Asher started digging on the rock with the spoon. After what seemed like hours, but was really only ten minutes, Charlie said he'd go to the police. After a few minutes, he came back and told Asher that someone had covered the way they got in so they were stuck. Digging was the only way out. About two hours after that Ethan, Jesús, Noel, and Derek woke up (mind you, it's around 2 P.M.). They sat around wallowing in their self-pity about being left behind for about an hour before they realized their friends could be dead. They decided that Noel and Derek would go check on them and someone would let Ethan know when it was okay to bring Jesús. Until then, they'd stay in the hotel. Noel and Derek set out and also quickly found the dome.    “So, it looks like I can't do much here. I'm going to try and get some policemen,” Derek informed Noel, assuming she'd join him.    “Okay, I'm going to look around.”    “Look around? For what?”    “Just trust me,” she said a little too happily.    “Fine.” He set off for the police station and she started toward the wooded area near the building. In the woods, she found two levers, side by side. She pulled one and a tree fell right behind her. She screamed and jumped. Then, like any logical person, she pulled the other one. What could go wrong?  The other one lowered the dome. Power's not on yet, though. She starts for the front door. This reveals to Charlie and Asher that the stone they were trying to dig through was next to a hologram of stone. They climbed into the building and heard the goons trying to get into the room across the hall. They kept low and stayed quiet.    Derek, on the other hand, has reached the police station and is telling someone (who has a musk ox and his gun on his desk) what's happening. He sounds insane. No one believes him. So he takes the gun and runs. No one runs after him because it was empty. Derek had ammo. Noel's in the building and the goons see her and a chase begins. Derek runs into the building and shoots the goons. Jacob leaves his room to see who's been shot. Asher leaves at the same time. They were in a detainment room. The power comes back on and Bastion has a message from an unknown number. It reads, “Pandora's box. Trap evil. Get now.” He reads it aloud.    “OH! I know what it's talking about! It's buried in one of my jewelry boxes! I'll be back, try staying alive while I'm gone.” Charlie sprinted out of the building and sped home. After he left, Jacob searched the detainment room until he found the sword. Then he went back to confronting Christa about being the Anti-Christ. Bastion stood near her while the others moved closer to Jacob. They were ready to back him until they heard her say she didn't know what he was talking about. Then they started to question him. How do we know she's the Anti-Christ? Why do we have to kill her? How did you find yourself with all this information?    “Why am I being questioned? She's the Anti-Christ!” Jacob rebuked their questions.    “How do you know that? How do we know that? How did you know to look for the goons in the audience? How do we know you aren't the Anti-Christ?” The others argued. Jacob lowered his sword as he defended himself; Bastion and Christa relaxed some. As they argued, they almost missed three new goons, guys this time, come in and start bowing to Christa. They all turned. Derek tried to shoot them. It went straight through, as did Jacob's blade. He didn't even try to slay the newly powerful Anti-Christ. As the goons bowed, red glowed around them, then around Christa. She started growing. The longer they bowed, the more she grew.    Charlie finally got home and ran upstairs. He practically tore his room apart looking for the weird bracelet that his great aunt gave to him, saying it was a family heirloom. She said it had protected them for generations. He hopes that it protects everyone now. He had so much jewelry handed down to him, for whatever reason, that he had 3 boxes and several jars of it. He started digging. Thankfully, he remembered which box it was in and quickly retrieved it. Then he raced back to the car and went at turbo speed (which means, for him, the speed limit).    Christa had gone from 5 feet to 6 by the time Charlie got back. Unaware of the recent developments, he yelled that he had the amulet. This cued two of the goons to go after it, and therefore chase Charlie around the studio. Derek didn't think fast enough to try and shoot them. This left the other goon bowing. Christa grew much more slowly, but she did continue to grow. When Charlie finally got back around to the group and, surprisingly not being caught, he called for them to catch the bracelet. After he threw it, he turned around to try and lead the goons astray. However, they only wanted the amulet, so they went right passed him. Bastion caught the bracelet, pushed the goon out of the room, took Jacob's sword, and lock himself in the room with Christa. The goons only focused on getting in, they left everyone around them alone. Only now did Bastion realize that he had no idea what he was doing. He did try. First, he yelled, “FIRUS!” and thrust the bracelet forward, but nothing happened. Then, “Protectum!” He finally tried, “Restorium!?” and shook it a little. The red in the bracelet started to glow a little. Then it leaked from the beads to the middle of the bracelet. Bastion got really excited, as he thought he'd figured it out. Then the red went back into the beads and pulsed, taunting him. Christa finally noticed the bracelet and walked toward Bastion. He stepped back.    “That's pretty, is it for me? Can I wear it during my next performance?” Christa continues to inch forward. Before Bastion could say anything, Christa had already taken the bracelet and put it on. She was suddenly 5 feet again. The sword disappeared. THUD. Bastion opened the door and saw the goons lifeless on the ground. The others were gaping at the sight. He did, too. He said he didn't know how or why before anyone could ask, then one of the stage hands came out from another room.    “Dad!” cooed Jesús, as he ran over and hugged the man. Everyone looked to each other for answers, then to the man.    “I suppose I should explain,” he began. “Back during the time that you classify with Adam and Eve, evil and good battled for humans. Some went to each side. The snake, who you call Lucifer, had two main followers. They had the blackest hearts. When God struck Lucifer down and banished him, the ashes made the only weapon that could rid this world of him. His disciples vanished as well, but they went into the earth. Two bloodlines come from those followers. God gave a gift of protection, but also compassion, to those families. That would be your amulet. The Devil searches for someone from those bloodlines, those with the darkest hearts, to use as a vessel. You, Charlie, had the amulet while it was looking. You were protected. Ignacia wasn't so fortunate. The gift was also so that unnecessary blood need not be shed. The sword will banish the evil forever, the bracelet for several millennia. There were times that the Anti-Christ got in but didn't have enough power to destroy the world or had a weak vessel. You know them as Stalin, Dahmer, and Dr. Harold Fredrick Shipman, among others.  'Use the amulet or the sword and rid the world of the demon', not 'use the amulet for the sword.' These instructions have been passed down for the longest time. You've all done your part. Pass down the amulet. Go home, sleep. Live happily and farewell.” The man left without protest.    “Huh, that was God,” Asher thought aloud.    “No, that's just my dad. God is my mom,” Jesús corrected before he followed his father out.    I wish I could say everybody wished farewell to their new life-longs friends, but that didn't happen at all; mostly everyone just got in the car in stunned silence then went to the strip mall to drop off Jacob; then Derek directed Charlie to where he could be dropped off. Everyone else went to Charlie and Asher's place. Asher drove Max home and raced Noel while they were on the same track. Ethan didn't know how he'd explain to the school why he missed today and left yesterday. Asher and Charlie decided that fixing their house was a job for another day. As for Ignacia, her singing ability and charisma came from the power of the Anti-Christ. She soon left The Voice and went to school with Jesús. She even joined chorus with him, despite sounding like a herd of tortured cats, and was taught by Mr. Ethan Neely. They were often visited by Mr. Asher Evans, as well.