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#salad fingers brain rot
pompurumi · 7 months
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do you think salad, if he had a choice, would care abt hygiene? because I hc him as a bit of a clean freak but due to the living conditions he was raised in and the baren wasteland he's been forced (in my opinion) to endure he's had no idea what it feels like to be truly clean. his mindset is more "to be as less dirty as possible" than "to be as clean as possible"
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doubledyke · 26 days
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okay hear me out
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but like this
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is anyone picking up what i'm putting down
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maltesejjong · 1 month
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Secrets and stars (j.wy)
Part. 1
In which you surprise your fiancé, Wooyoung, with a new secret for your wedding
Warnings: none; pure fluff, marriage!au, nonidol!wooyoung, semi-forbidden love (will get to that with the next part), mentions of pregnancy, pure brain rot
I wrote this I literally 20 minutes. Not proofread
꒰ঌ(⃔ ⌯' '⌯)⃕໒꒱
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You feel dizzy. Which makes sense, because your face is turned up towards the heavens and you’re spinning in a circle, arms outstretched. The air is still, but a gentle breeze sends your flowy shirt billowing around you. Fireflies dance around your bare legs and illuminate your brown boots. 
You hear your name and turn, feeling high on pure happiness. Feeling alive. Because he’s here.
“C’mon, then,” he says now, a goofy grin on his face. He settles onto the blanket he’s just laid out and pulls a wicker basket onto the corner of the faded red and white checkered fabric. 
You bounce on your toes and practically skip over, feeling a smile break out on your face as you pull your knees to your chest and look expectantly at the basket. 
He flips open one side of the lid and pulls out two jam jars full of an amber liquid, and a chilled container with lemon slices and mint leaves. You eagerly accept the jar, twisting the lid and plopping in some lemon and mint. Just the way you like your sweet tea. You sip on the straw, watching as the basket brings forth dill pickles, egg salad, sweet creamed corn and a sandwich called a “Cuban”. Something you’ve only tasted when you go into the city.
You grin at each other, crunching pickles and savoring the tartness of the sandwiches’ mustard. He lifts a spoonful of egg salad to your lips. You smile, crossing your eyes as you follow the spoon until all you see is the tip of your nose and you can taste green onions and paprika. 
Once you finish the meal, he brings out small mason jars with chocolate mousse, and you both scoop them up, laughing as you plop whipped cream onto each other’s noses. Finally, once you’re done eating, his arm encircles your shoulders, and you tip back, laying on the soft blanket while watching the stars. 
You feel his lips by your ear, pushing through your messy hair, wind-tossed and escaping the loose fishtail you had put it in. “Do you see all the lights?” he asks, his breath making my skin feel warm.
You nod, sighing. “It’s so beautiful.” I wish we could stay here forever, you think wistfully. 
“Not as beautiful as you,” he says shamelessly.
You gently hit his shoulder. “Woo, stoooop. You’re so cheesy.” A breeze kicks up and you shiver slightly. He notices and tugs a corner of the blanket up, holding it in place with the hand secured around your shoulder.
“Better?”
You nod. “Much better.”
You lay like that, in silence, just enjoying one another’s warmth, the stars, the fireflies dancing through the stalks of wheat that surround us.
“Oh, hey,” you say, fiddling with his fingers. “I have an idea…”
“Oh, yeah?” he asks, turning his hand so that it’s easier for me to play with his hand. “What’s that?”
“We should have it here.”
He hmmmms at your proposition. “I’m not opposed to that.”
“I sense a ‘but’.”
He sighs. “I dunno… The wheat is high; we can’t really cut it.”
“Why not?”
“Christ, babe. It don’t belong to us.”
You grin and turn on your side, propping yourself up on your elbow. “But it does.”
“No, it--” he stops, eyes going wide. “Did you--?”
You grin, shrugging your shoulder. “Maybe.” 
He sits up. “Oh, my god. You did! And here I was, worried about the owner possibly catching us trespassing in their field!”
You laugh, delighted. “I bought the field last week. I wanted it to be a surprise, Wooyoungie, I did… but I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I really really really want to have it here.” Your face is starting to hurt the slightest bit from how much you’re smiling, but you couldn’t care less. His reaction is so worth it.
“We should have it here.” he stands up and starts pointing to various spots of wheat around us. “We can have an arch right there. And right here, one row of seats, and across from it, another. And right here…”
You laugh, watching as the plans begin to take shape. He walks back to you. “You’re brilliant,”he says, taking your face in his hands and kissing you. “Absolutely brilliant.”
“Oh, there’s more,” you say.
His eyes get even bigger. “More??”
You mod. “I bought this for us. Our house. Our family…”
His whole face lights up. “Wraparound porch?’
“And a balcony…”
You feel like you could stay here all night, talking about plans for your home that you’ll get to build together. Because youre with him.
But the ring on tour finger reminds you that there’s still so much to be done before that can happen.
Especially since nobody knows.
He’s still talking. “And the baby’s room will have…”
Oh. Right. You lay a hand on your stomach.
Nobody knows about that just yet. Especially not your father.
But still, you smile when he turns and looks at you . “One thing at a time, love. Its still an adventure.”
I only hope we can get through it alright.
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kittzuxp · 1 year
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Intro post!!!
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About me
Hi hello, you can call me kittzu/kittz/dream/drem or dremzyzz. I use They/she/it/he or autoí/auth/autó/autós prounouns!! Also i am greek🇬🇷🇬🇷
I am a minor‼️‼️ DONT BE WEIRD.
My fav colors are black, red and lavender :3
My fav animals are cats, frogs and bats :33
Yk what. I. Am. Done with gender. Genderfluid, lesbian and aspec (probably aceflux, aegosexual and demiromantic) . If u don’t like it FUCK OFF WHAT R U DOING HERE
I can be pretty shy sometimes but always open to making new friends!! (・・;)
Dnis/ do not interacts: z00s,p3d0s, homophobes, transphobes, n3cr0s, TERFS, MAPS, racists, xenophobes, anti-therians, anti-furries, radqueers, proshippers, 'superstarights' etc and any hate groups in general.
Also @/guess-who-69 sorry
🇵🇸🍉 FREE PALESTINE
4 more info click here
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Fandoms & interests
I like reading (warriors) and drawing, but also browsing the tube. Oh and comics can't forget about those (currently reading homestuck)
I am in a loooot of fandoms but not really active in them cuz… most of them are dead..
BUT!! I have a couple of things that are currently rotting my brain (fandoms I'm hyperfixating on + active fandoms)
Brain rot real
Stardew Valley [foams at the mouth my brain is rotting]
Twomp/ the world of mr plant
Regretevator
Mob psycho 100
Sofita / johnypeace, thanakios [IF YK THIS ONE FOLLOW ME IMMEDIATELY AND DM ME SOMI CAN FOLLOW U TOOO]
Homestuck [NEW!]
Active
Ghost eyes
Sally face
The song of achilles
Ouk an lavois para tou mi ehontos (if you know this one lets get married/j)
Lacey games
Clan gen (warriors fan game by @/officialclangen)
Tgcf
Diary of a wimpy kid [doawk fanfics: Dysfunctional perspective, Rodrick's secret on the loader diper subreddit]
Unfamiliar (comic by lavendertowne pls go read it)
OMORI
Deathnote
Webtoons(/tapas) [Jackson's diary, Castle swimmer, Your wings and mine <- go read these they're awesome]
KinitoPET
Ramshackle [The webtoon & yt series]
Inactive
Warriors
Ninjago
God troubles me!
An extremely goofy movie
The Boiled One Phenomenon (PHEN-228 is my pookie ❤❤)
Salad fingers
Minecraft (the game)
Helluva boss
South park
Deltarune & undertale
The amazing digital circus‼️
Fionna and cake
Stranger things ☹️☹️ (I'm trying to not to associate the actors with the characters as to not ruin the show 4 me. I will be boycotting s5 tho)
Sonic prime
Heartstopper
Batim
Toh
Sr pelo’s content in general [spooky month and the mokey series]
Saiki k
Good omens
YuB (a youtuber, please go sub to him he’a so silly)
Love, Sam (indie horror game)
Former yandere simulator fan. After the shit with yandev happen i don’t support any of his content anymore.
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Socials & tags
My discord is: forknifeistrash#1419
My wattpad: apersonyoudontknow7
My Ao3: Kittzuxp_the_pidgeon
My Artfight >ω<
Sideblogs: @lovrclan-gen @ask-lovechild-au-twomp
I don’t use it very often, but i’m also on the twompcord and clan gen server. I’m not active on the servers tho..
Tags i’ll use:
Kittzu's headcannons = pretty self explaintory, headcanon I made
Kittzu's Mr plant plushie = he's here!!!!
kittzu's argos plushie = i am legally forced to put this tag under the mr plant one.
kittzuxp = reblogs and posts (fast reblogs do not count)
Kittzu’s enderman plush (i have an enderman plush, if you want any related content, i’m sorry for advertising i just love ‘em so much)
Kittzu's creeper plush (i also have a creeper plush!!!)
Kittzu doodles = any of my art
Kittzu answers asks = do I need to explain?
storytime with kittzu = me sharing my memories and expiriences with the world. I want to leave a mark that i was here and that my existance is not forgotten. Philosophical much?
kittzu's ocs = working on a masterpost abt my ocs but there's this tag too
And then just general tags of any fandom i want the post to be abt
(I might tag your username if i don’t mention you in a post, so beware)
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[🔼by @/oxceen]
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jedifarmerr · 2 years
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Pepper Sprout (mini-series)
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Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader/OFC (no physical description, established backstory & personality.)
Premise: Set after the events of the Last of Us Part 1, Joel befriends, then slowly falls in love with Ellie’s teacher.
Rating: E for future chapters (18+ blog)
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings: some violence at the beginning (guns and blood), language, a tiny amount of drinking, and ambiguous age gap. This is pretty tame...for now.
A/N: Hello! I thought of this series a few months ago while playing the game and I am seriously so excited to finally be sharing it. Currently, this is shaping up to be around 5 or 6 parts? This will include some spoilers (the ending) of The Last of Us Part 1. Reader is related to a character from the Last of Us Part 2, but it's a faceless NPC.
Part 1
The air stunk of dry-rot wood, spoiled food, and flesh. He could practically taste it as if it was sitting on his tongue like a wet fuzzy sock. 
Joel was hanging back by the host stand, scanning from salad bar to sundae bar. Finger hovering over the trigger. This fight wasn’t over. 
Not yet, anyway. 
He’d dealt with enough infected over the years to know that in a horde of this size there would always be an aftershock. Just waiting and watching; somewhere out there - lingering. 
But where? 
This Golden Corral was a buffet of Cordyceps. A goddamn petri dish. The floor was covered almost entirely in torpor corpses; a dusty gray with sprinkles of crimson from those freshly slain. Florid fungus cobwebbed itself to the walls. 
A crack of glass – a screech – echoed throughout the restaurant. 
Joel whirled around. Just as the kitchen doors burst open and out flung a spider-crawling stalker. Bingo. Joel jerked his gun, aiming right between its jaundice eyes. The barrel kicked back with a bang, and blew straight through its moldy brain. 
Splat. 
Its head broke into tiny bits and pieces; blood gushing from the severed neck. 
Never one to be too careful, Joel waited a long minute before slinging the shotgun around his back, calling it. 
He took a step and immediately winced. His knees were inflamed to the point he could hardly walk. Hobbling to the nearest chair that wasn’t wrapped up in bone-dry veins, he slumped down. 
“That was too damn close,” he grumbled at Tommy as he went on massaging his achy joints. Despite the cool weather, he was drenched in sweat. His shirt was completely ruined – soaked through and through with guts. 
So much for a day off, and one he could’ve really used. He was completely exhausted. Running on pure adrenaline, and one too many shitty cups of coffee. 
The last three weeks had been intense with fall officially here, and the infected beginning their official migration north for winter. 
Tommy swaggered over. “11…12…13. 13 of those fuckers, and look at that - barely a scratch. Shit, that’s gotta be some kinda record.” He brought a hand down on Joel’s shoulder and squeezed. 
Even with blood smeared along his brow and sweat-greased back hair, Tommy looked unfazed. He actually appeared elated, reveling at the carnage and their ultimate victory. 
And fine. Joel could at least admit this was a pretty solid win. 
Too bad the bodies still needed to be searched, and god - he was so desperate to get out of here. He gave himself ten second of rest before forcing himself back onto his feet. 
“Mike’s gonna be sorry he missed it.” Tommy crouched beside a clicker with a shiv sticking out of its neck. He wiggled the handle loose, and blood oozed from the wound. 
But hey - at least the blade was still intact. 
“Yeah, right,” Joel scoffed. “That guy owes us big time - that’s for damn sure,” he reiterated for the dozenth time that day. 
It was a Tuesday, meaning the on duty patrol for this route was Mike and Eugene. Now, Eugene was actually sick with a nasty case of the flu. So, he could slide, but Mike. Hell no. His excuse was, now get this - his ankle was bothering him. 
His goddamn ankle. 
While it was probably an old injury flaring up from days of chilly rain, the guy decided it exempted him from the patrol, reciting some bullshit he’d memorized from the handbook. 
Seriously, who wastes their time reading that? 
Section four of protocol states…blah blah blah. What a fucking nerd. Joel couldn’t stand him before, and this definitely didn’t help. 
“Lucky for you, he won’t be joining us for dinner,” Tommy said, as he jingled a few shotgun shells loose from the last in his pile. “Ellie did tell you who’s coming, right?” 
Joel flicked his tongue over his lips, and chuckled under his breath. Man, he really should’ve seen that one coming because knowing Tommy: he’d been waiting all day for the chance to slip her in. 
Maria and Tommy had been playing cupid, and recently landed on a new target. 
Mike’s younger sister, who just so happened to be Ellie’s teacher, and also, a family-friend of Maria’s. It was all a very twisty hodunk small town over here. 
“She sure did,” Joel stated. Matter-of-fact. He couldn’t feed the beast, or else it would never end. 
Joel checked over the last runner, and pocketed a travel-size bottle of hand sanitizer. Some good that did them. 
“And you’re cool with that?” Tommy trailed over to the busted window they came in from. His eyes wide and bright and full of ulterior-motives. 
Joel curtly nodded befor climbing on through. 
“Guessin’ you would be.” Tommy tapped his fingers against the gun at his side. Joel stared down the end of the street at the McDonald’s; the horses were safely holed up in the Playplace: tied to a support beam for the windy slide. “Thought I remember, you saying you liked her, like as a person.” 
“I barely know her,” Joel shot the conversation dead. 
He was just telling the truth. The bulk of what he knew came from Tommy and Ellie and whatever people around town said. Always good things. She was like this patron saint of Jackson. Mother fucking Teresa.
And who knows? Maybe she was. Joel had hung out with her a whopping three times: two of which ended up being a complete mess. The first one had ended with her doubled over and hurling outside the Tipsy Bison, choking and gagging out apology after apology. She was a lightweight and supposedly, too much sugar made her sick.
Anyway – 
Then, came meet-the-teacher night where he took his turn making a complete ass of himself. It’d been fine until Ellie upped and left to use the bathroom and alone – it was painfully awkward. He’d take the piss for that one. Small talk and pleasantries were never really his forte. 
“Well, I’m not gonna say she would be interested, but-”
“Okay, Tommy,” Joel scrubbed a hand down his face and sighed. “I know where you’re going with this, so before you go on and get any ideas. It’s still a no.” 
Tommy’s expression dipped into a frown. “But what about -” 
Joel held up his hand. “I appreciate it, but I’m just not interested,” Joel let him down easily, but the assurance in his tone left little room for an argument. 
Tommy opened his mouth, but quickly clamped it shut. He huffed – defeated. Once again. That was his fifth reject; one for every month Joel had lived here. 
Despite the outcome always being the same, Tommy just kept trying. No. No. No. Not even a maybe. Not once. Joel had made his stance pretty clear. Scratch that - translucent. Dating was out; marriage was a hell no. It’s not like his first go-around had been anything to write home about, clearly. 
What a crapshoot. 
Joel viewed relationships differently than Tommy. His little brother was sickly in love, and good for him, but Joel thought the whole thing was nothing more than another liability. 
Why would he risk it? 
If he’d never been any good at them in the first place. It always seemed to be the wrong place or wrong time or too late. He’d never been able to get it right, so it was just better off this way. 
He was better off this way
---
Cleaned up and rested; later that evening, the five of them gathered at Maria and Tommy’s for dinner: roasted meat and rosemary potatoes. Served family-style, just like her mother used to do. 
Rory wasn’t here to babble away like usual as he was staying the night at his grandpa’s. 
The conversation was otherwise nothing special, mostly centered around the newbies in town. Some whispers about Jackson had spread south, and what had once been three hundred had steadily grown to around four or five. More would probably come spring.
Joel slugged back his beer, and stole a glance at the woman beside him.
She was attractive, and being this close, in this light, he could appreciate her features even more. She was inches from him, and he could smell her perfume? Soap? It was real nice. Fresh and clean and soft and as sweet as her famous nickname. 
Lolly. 
A childhood nickname that stuck to her like glue. 
When he’d first heard it, he’d expected some young girl, barely 18 to be sitting at the bar top. 
Not…her; a full-fledged woman. 
Sure, she was younger than him, but not by enough to make his stomach curl with cradle-robber shame whenever his gaze lingered for just a moment too long. 
Like now. 
Joel shook his head, and focused on Ellie, talking about school, and her extreme dislike for their most recent unit. 
While school wasn’t mandatory, all the kids enjoyed going. It was only three times a week, and half-days with all age groups coming together on Friday. Younger kids still learned how to read and do basic math, but at Ellie’s age, it was mostly job and life skills. Sometimes people would come and speak about their occupation, other days they learned how to read a map and purify water or currently – sewing. 
“Laugh all you want, I almost lost a finger.” Ellie flashed the band-aid on her pointer as proof. Lolly looked slightly guilty, even as she giggled. 
“Well, not everyone can be as talented as Lolly over here,” Maria boasted, pointing to Lolly’s little dress. “Let me guess, you made that yourself?” 
Lolly’s chewing slowed as she squinted at Maria. She was no dummy; it’d taken her all but a few seconds to sniff out the set up. 
She swallowed. “No, actually. This is one Mike brought back from that boutique in the square. I just added a little material here and there, so it would fit.”
Joel’s gaze traveled over the dress, following the flick of her wrist. It was a rusty orange number with big sleeves that reminded him of the 70’s. Even though it was completely impractical, it was also hauntingly cute. 
“Still impressive,” Maria insisted, and Lolly clicked her tongue - not playing along. 
A moment of silence followed: amplified by the scratch of silverware on porcelain. 
“Joel and I had a pretty eventful day, ain’t that right?” Tommy perked up, spearing a cherry tomato on his fork, and popping it into his mouth.
Great, now it was his turn to be buttered up. 
“Oh. Trust me, I’ve heard. Everyone in town won’t shut up about it. They keep saying you might be the best patrol we’ve ever had.” A teensy smile teased her lips, and Joel’s tongue immediately became dry toast. 
 Joel gulped, and waved off her minuscule praise. “Oh, no. It was nothing-”
“Nothing?” Ellie snorted. “Psssh. Sure smelled like something to me.” Ellie wrinkled her nose and shooed away the residual stench. 
Goddamn kids and their honesty. At least, Ellie didn’t mention finding him sprawled out on the couch with enough ice packs to drown each leg. 
Joel leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Really now? You think you can do better, kiddo?” Joel challenged – light-hearted. 
Ellie shrugged – a cocky maybe. 
“Guess we’ll be finding out soon enough - 8 months?” Tommy pointed his fork at her. 
“9.” Ellie glanced at Joel. 
He’d snuck her a few times, and taken her up to the pond for those swimming lessons he promised her. He would surely do it again once it warmed up. 
Ellie looked at Lolly, and her brows wrangled up with some sudden thought. “Have you ever been on patrol?” 
Maria’s head whipped up as fast as a sucker punch. Lolly eye’s widened, but Joel wasn’t sure if it was Maria’s reaction or the seemingly innocent question itself that caused her to react, but then neither of them said a word. 
Joel wasn’t sure what the fuck was going on. He looked at Ellie, then his brother, but Tommy looked just as confused as them. 
Lolly must’ve noticed the regret creeping up on Ellie’s face, since she immediately offered her a small grin. 
“Believe it or not,” she said, “I used to go all the time.” 
Joel blinked back. What? When? 
He’d never seen her name listed in a single log book, and those dated back almost 10 years. Give or take. 
While Joel had only been here around six months, he’d never heard anyone talk about it, or anyone ever stopping patrol so young. Most people kept going until they either couldn’t or died. Eugene was like, 70? And he was still out there a couple times a week. 
Nobody said anything for a long minute; the silence sat heavy and tense and uncomfortable. 
Maria clapped her hands, “Anyone want dessert?” 
---
Fluffy chocolate mousse was the answer as the conversation returned to idle nothingness until it was time to go. 
While putting on their coats, Tommy offered they walk her home because the streets of Jackson were crawling with crime and all. She’d brushed it off at first, but Ellie insisted.
Turns out, Lolly knew a thing or two hundred on constellations and Ellie used the walk to pick her brain. Joel trailed a step behind them, watching Lolly’s finger trace the blanket of stars. 
Lyra. The W – named for some vain queen in Greece. Cassie something or other. Next to it, was her husband. Another C name. Supposedly it looked like a stick figure house, but Joel didn’t see it. 
Still, he listened to the sound of her voice; there was something soothing about it.
Sadly, that peace couldn’t last as Mike was out on the front porch. He was chilling on the small swing, downing a beer as if he knew Joel would end up walking her home. 
“I was wonderin’ when you’d get back.” 
Lolly jumped at the sound of his voice. She’d been so engrossed with Ellie that she’d yet to spot him. 
“Ellie. Joel.” Mike spit his name out like a jagged piece of glass. Oh yeah, the dislike was mutual. 
Joel drawled out Mike’s name; a little friendlier than usual, just to irk him. “How’s the ankle?” He pointed to the hack job wrapping. 
Mike sneered. “Better. Thanks for asking.” 
“What’re you doing out here?” Lolly butted in; the words spoken through a tight, nervous-looking smile. She refused to look directly at him or even Ellie for that matter. 
“It’s a nice night, don’t ya think? Guessin’ it’ll be the last one for a while, so thought I’d enjoy it. By the looks of it, seems as if you two thought the same.” 
Mike glared at Joel with a threat in his eyes: think about touching her and I’ll knock your teeth in. Joel would love to see him try. 
Joel wondered if Mike was always this suffocating. If so, maybe that’s why she was still single because who would want to deal with him? Mike was about to square up with a middle-aged man and a 15-year-old girl for what? Walking his sister home?
His adult sister. Nonetheless. 
Joel didn’t try to understand it. 
Lolly held Mike’s gaze for a moment before turning around with a word. She forced a smile, and it actually looked believable which was slightly concerning.
“Well, uh. Thank you both for walking me home. Ellie, I will see you tomorrow. Joel-” 
Mike cleared his throat and the anger seethed from her pores. She squeezed her eyes shut, so tight she nearly burst. Taking a deep breath, she peered back up at Joel. “It was nice seeing you again.” 
With that, she spun around and bolted up the steps. Mike didn’t seem to give a fuck, rocking back and forth so slow that the rusty screws gave into a haunting squeal. 
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Ellie spoke out of the side of her mouth, waving at Mike while taking a step back, then another. 
“You read my mind.” 
Joel and Ellie booked it down the road. 
Fuck, if he would ever go back there again.
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petertoddgrayson · 1 year
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Jason found a red ruby.
No- the red ruby called to him under a dumpster while Jason was on his way to school.
Jason somehow knew where to find it, like a tug on his soul urging him to follow the voice, or whatever machinations his brain is playing at him, and being an OCD Jason was, gave in to the strange desire that is crouching and reaching for something he actually has not single idea about- he just felt like it. The putrid smell of rotting trash and piss greeted Jason's olfactory senses. He winced. He probed his hands beneath the bin, until it came across something hard, and angular, fingers quick to grab and wipe away what grime or dust was stuck to it's surface during it's unfortunate stay. A ruby- Jason's assumes due to its deep red hue. He bit it- it didn't scratch, smashed it - not a single crack. He held it close to his eyes, scrutinized every minute detail, and came to a conclusion that it might be, and hopefully, a genuine ruby. His senses kicked in as soon as he stood, hastily hid the precious gem in his pocket.
" A man's misfortune is another man's fortune." Jason muses. He couldn't bring himself to feel sad, sad for anyone unfortunate enough to lose something of great value. The ruby would fetch a decent price, enough that he'd afford himself food, set of new clothes and maybe if he felt the need for self love, the latest issue of his fav comics. The only issue would be Willis, his bastard of a father, but that's for another day, so Jason went about to school like a normal student would, earning glances from passersby for his stiff stature.
The class hours came and went and it was lunch time before Jason knew it. He made his way to the cafeteria, and since Willis remembered to pay for his lunch credits, he'd get to be picky this time. Chilli dogs and caesar salad would suffice. Much to his displeasure-and surprise, the entire dining hall was grandly stirring, betas, a handful of female betas with their omega-ripoff-selves and even alphas scuttle their way to some specific spot. And that was when Jason's own came across a pair of ocean blue eyes, deceptively enticing-Dick Grayson, Jason's omega preened.
Which means, yes,
The Wayne Boys are here.
Carefully, Jason treaded his way among the crowds, stepping this and stepping there, deliberately crushing the toes of unfortunate souls, that is, according to Jason " are slaves to their instinct and are of base character at best." A deed, which he relished doing so, before a familiar voice came seeking his name.
"Jay! Over here!" Yells a grinning red headed alpha with a haircut-hair oh so terrible dead teachers rolled in their graves.
Jason merely raised an eye brow as an exchange before proceeding to pull a chair next to him.
"So.... what's the plan for tonight?" He asks, tapping the table like a drum ensemble of anticipation.
"What's the plan?" Jason frowns. "Don't pull that shit on me Roy, I know what that tone means."
"What's wrong with my tone?" (Fuck you Roy.)
" See? We've got a lot work to do.. like homework? If Dad learns I got detention 3 times this week he's gonna have my head! I better start patching myself up." Jason explains. Roy shrugged.
"I mean.. a group study? Except there's only two of us. Then the fun comes in after." Roy explains. Jason didn't respond, the alpha found him staring, staring - not at him, at someone else. He cranes his head, and finds Dick Grayson munching on his lunch, surrounded by a bunch of desperates.
"Jay!!" Roy waved his fully stretched hands, startling Jason. He felt a tug of pain, and jealousy. Jason should have been his, and only his.
"Yeah..yeah. I think that's a good idea Roy, maybe we could visit the arcade after we're done." Jason quickly dismissed, he couldn't peel his eyes off Dick. The alpha's too damn hot not to notice. The sharp jawline, tanned skin, and ohhhh that alpha bulge in his pants. Jason is salivating. Roy raised an eyebrow. "You could stay the night bud. Besides, dad won't be at home until like 8 in the morning. Tonight's his Thursday Poker."
Roy felt a sudden relief, and pain. Pained to learn that Jason, being an omega, is left alone uncared for. Roy wanted to be his alpha, he's been meaning to make Jason his. "Alrighty!! I'll bring some diet coke and chips." The alpha happily chirps.
The two dissolved into comfortable silence as they ate their lunch. Soon enough, their afternoon classes started and both parted ways.
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Biology is the worst subject for Jason. He hated Ms. Dullingham's take on explaining omegan physiology, she seemed to objectify them. The beta teacher in question taught the class about how weak omegas are, and the overwhelming superiority of female betas.
"Betas." Jason shakes his head " They don't know anything." *not realizing that he spoke his mind.*
"Excuse me Mr. Todd?!" A raised heavily accented voice echoes throughout the room. Jason immediately snaps back to reality.
"Perhaps you were thinking too loud dear?" Mathilda Dullingham slithered her way to Jason's desk. "Were you?" A stick on her hand sent shivers to Jason's spine. Well, shit.
The entire class now stared at him. Some felt sorry, others didn't really care, while a few malevolent souls seemed to enjoy the show. And Jason hated this.
"I..I didn't-"
"Silence! Jason Peter Todd! You are out of this class!" The concussive sound as the stick hit his desk rendered Jason catatonic. Ms. Dullingham's a bitch and insecure as fuck. The whispers became audibly louder. "Off you go! Get out!"
Jason heard some giggles, he blushed from shame and anger, quickly packed his books and notes and bolted for the door. He can get through this, he thought, he's had far worse. A simple humiliation from a menopausal unmated beta teacher shouldn't affect him. Shouldn't affect him at all.
It was 2 pm, the corridors were mostly empty. Jason decided to head for the
comfort room to freshen up. Atleast he'd still be pretty even in this shitty situation he got himself into. Making his way to one of the stalls, waves of thick alpha arousal drowned his senses. He was quick to hide behind one of the stalls' door curtains, finding 6 alphas, 3 of which are from his class- Grant, Alex and Murphy otherwise known for their rough school records. The cause of arousal-Jason has no idea about. Apparently, the alphas seemed to hold a communal masturbation. The soft tenor moans became the apparent source of arousal, *they are watching porn, Jason realizes. Omegan porn. Jason's slick began to gather, and decided to leave; stealthy steps accelerated to running, and because fate wasn't kind to him, he slipped on a puddle of cum.
Thudd!!!
*Fuck
The alphas snapped their necks from the sudden noise.
The semen was quick to stick on Jason's clothes and absorb into it's fabric. It smelled funky.
Jason, still stunned from the forceful impact on his head (he fell on his head) scrambled for balance. But before he could take a step further, a strong hand grabbed him by the scruff.
He's so screwed.
"Looks like someone's enjoying the show." Alex sneers, dragging Jason by the scruff. "Don't worry bitch, we'd love to take care of you." Jason was silent from shock. He's been into so much shit. Alex dragged him to his friends. The rest of them stared at Jason like a piece of meat. He felt like a deer caught in head lights.
"Wo ho! An omega! This is going to be so fun." An alpha grins.
"Shut up Gerald!"
"I'll take his mouth."
"The ass is mine."
" I'll take him first, then you're next."
"No I'm first, then you, after Trent."
The alphas claimed for his body like 7 year old kids racing for their toys.
Jason was dropped on the floor like a corpse. He can't move. When the realization of a very possible rape hit him. Jason squirmed and ran for the door. One of the alphas, however, managed to trip him by the leg.
Alex walked over him and placed his feet near Jason's face. "Looks like pussy's back on the menu, boys!"
The boys started stripping Jason. Jason tried his best to resist by clawing, biting, punching or kicking and every possible way anyone can hurt a human by merely using their body. He was a prey ganged upon by thirsty predators, he's had worse for sure, but experiencing such on repetition makes him want to vomit. Disgusting. Jamie, managed to to get a hold on Jason's face, as he scrambled to undo his zipper.
A warm, sweaty cock as big as Jason's biceps rested on his chin. He knew his ass has been stripped bare, feeling the warm breath as an alpha ( Alex?) sniffed his cunt. The cheese like smell of smegma(?) had Jason hold his breath. Suddenly Jamie yanked Jason's hair pulling down his face towards his groin.
"Yeahh suck that cock bitch." Jamie gasped as he forcefully rubbed his leaking sex unto Jason's lips.
Remaining alphas stroked their dicks as they watched two of their friends defile Jason.
The overwhelming rancid smell of Jamie's groin made Jason puke. He spilled his half digested lunch all over the alpha's cock, covering it with spit, mush of Caesar salad and acidic chili dogs. Alex who was about to mount Jason bursted into maniacal laughter. "The fuck!" Jamie frowns, "This is not funny!"
"Dude,dude, chill. Just let the bitch eat that shit." One of the alphas suggested.
"Kinky."
Jamie squeezed Jason's jaw, and with an evil grin scooped the devil's mush that is Jason's puke. Meanwhile, Alex groaned as he pushed his cock into Jason's tight heat.
Jason froze. Anger and fear welled inside his chest. Being raped is humiliating enough, but to eat his vomit would be an absolute nightmare level of disgusting. He didn't deserve this. He hasn't done anything wrong. If anything else, Jason just tried to live a normal life, blend in the crowd never stepped on other people. Why is fate so cruel to him? Not once did he question it's inner workings, how the world constantly thrashed him from Willis and his mom's death, and this. Alex's and his friend's laughter dissolved into a background blur. Jason felt numb. A new wave of hatred and power began seeping into his body like magic.
"Eat up bitch." As soon as Jamie's hand neared his mouth, Jason saw red. A wave of telekinetic force surged through the room, knocking the boys out and tearing off the thin wooden walls that separates the stalls. The magnitude might have been enough to be felt by anyone outside.
Jason himself, was surprised, an instinct of his urged him to reach for his pocket. In his hands, the ruby glowed in red light, slowly disintegrating as its essence merged with his. Jason could only raise his hand in surprise. Trent who have managed to recover from the force ran for the door. Still thirsting for revenge, Jason levitated the alpha and hurled him to one of the toilet seats, crushing it and leaving Trent a bloody unconscious mess.
Seeing the unlucky fate of their friend, Alex and Jamie jumped on him, but Jason was quick to dodge. Now levitating in front of the alphas, blocking their exit, the remaining conscious ones, including Alex and Jamie were shaken, torn between the urge to fight, and the fear consuming them, telling their bodies to run.
" I suppose, I'm the one having fun now." Jason sneers, the alphas taking a small step backwards for every word. He felt the powerful, the fear of repercussions after this incident slowly drips away. Jason deserved this. And he knew these alphas had this coming too.
" I...I..-guys! Get up!" Alex stammers. Grant who have been catatonic stumbled into Trent. "He's still alive!" The group made an audible sigh, before focusing on the omega levitating in front of them. Each one of them in their defensive stance walked backwards, forming a crooked curving line of trembling bodies. " We're so..so-sorry" one of them finally admits.
"Sorry?" Jason cackles, " you ask for forgiveness?" He lands in front of Jamie who paled at such gesture. Jason lifted his chin and moved his face close to the alpha's cheek in a seductive manner. " After all these shit you've done to me, I wanted to kill all of you." Jason scoffs, "And this, just me beating everyone of you till you're all almost dead, is me being reasonable."
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hime-memes · 2 years
Text
                • Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared • ( Episode 1 - 3. )
Pretty sure my friend’s discord icon is Red Guy and I just noticed today -- so, after remembering the DHMIS era of internet usage ... I decided to watch them all again ! 
                                            - Potential for future parts, maybe ? -      There’s quite a few more of these I may make starters for in the future if these go well.  ( * I hope some of these starters pique your interest and you look into this series if you haven’t already ! Be warned, it can be intense and kind of scary at times, a bit like Salad Fingers but more visceral, but also with more finesse ?! If you can stomach it, you should totally go give it a watch ! * )   As always: These have been modified for cohesive and sensical use for the general RPC. Feel free to change anything within these that you see fit to make it work for the receiver’s muse !   Recommended For: Any Muses/Plots/Timelines.
Trigger Warnings For: Mental Illness Mention, Death Themes, Some Horror Themes & Elements.
‘ Creativity ‘  “ What's your favorite idea ? Mine is being creative ! “  “ How do you get the idea ? “  “ I just try to think creatively ! “  “ Now: when you look at this orange, tell me please, what do you see ? “  “ It's just a boring old orange ! “  “ Maybe to you, but not to me ! “  “ I see a silly face, walking around and smiling at me. “  “ I don't see what you mean ... “  “ 'Cause you're not thinking creatively ! “  “ So, take a look at my hair. “  “ I use my hair to express myself ! “  “ That sounds really boring. “  " When you stare at the clouds in the sky; Don't you find it exciting ? “ “ Come on, take another look ... “  “ I can see a man with a baseball bat. “  “ Think you're getting the hang of it now ! “  “ Using your minds to have a good time ? “ “ I might paint a picture of a clown. “  “ Whoa there, friend, you might need to slow down ! “  “ Here's another good tip ! “  " Go and collect some leaves and sticks. “  “ Green is not a creative color ... “  “ There's one more thing that you need to know before you let your creativity flow: ... “  “ Listen to your heart. “ “ Listen to the rain ! “  “ Listen to the voices in your brain. “  “ Come on guys, let's get creative ! “  “ Now, let's all agree to never be creative again. “  ‘ Time ‘ “ C'mon, guys, stop mucking around ! “  “ We only have five minutes until our show is on ... “  “ That's not enough time ! “  “ There is always time for a song. “  “ What ? Who is that ?! “  “ Time is a tool you can put on the wall or wear it on your wrist. “  “ The past is far behind us ! “  “ The future doesn't exist ! “  “ What's the time ? It's quarter to nine ... “  “ Time to have a bath. “  “ What do you mean? We're already clean ?! “  “ Scrub, scrub, scrub 'til the water's brown ! “  “ Time is a ruler to measure the day. “  “ It doesn't go backwards; only one way. “  “ Watch it go round like a merry-go-round; going so fast like a merry-go-round. “  “ Let's go on a journey -- A journey through all time ! “  “ A time that's changing all the time ? “ “ It's time to go to time. “  “ ... But we don't really want to. “ “ We're going to miss our show. “ “ Don't be stupid, friends ! “ “ C'mon, it's time to go. “  “ Time is old ... like the Victorian times ! ”  “ -- With cobbles, and plague, and speaking in rhyme ! “  “ -- With cobbles, and chimneys, it was a simpler time ! “  “ -- With cobbles, and sawdust, and batteries, and slime ... “ “ This tree that is old has circles inside. “ " The tree that is older has shriveled and died ! “  “ The apple that's fresh is ripe to the core. “  “ I rot over time & I'm not anymore ! “  “ Time can be told by the moon or the sun. “  “ ... But time flies fast when you're having fun ! “  “ There's a time and a place for mucking around. “  “ So, like: birthday & camping ? “ " I'm friends with my dad. “   “ Then what happened after the olden days ? “  “ Time went new & got old like history !  “ Stuff from the past that went into a mystery. “  “ An old man died -- but look, a computer ! “  “ Everything's cool, it's the future ! “  “ Time is now, the future anew ... “  “ Look at all the wonderful things you can do with gadgets and gizmos and email addresses ... ! “  “ My dad is c-a com-computer ... “ “ Look at the time ! “ “ It's quarter to eight, there's fish on my plate. “  “ It's twenty past day, there's fish on my tray. “  “ It's eleven to twelve, there's fish in the bath ! “  “ It's nine thirty, there's fish everywhere ... ! “  “ Now you can see the importance of time. “  “ It helps us make pizza ! “  “ It keeps things in line. “  “ -- But when did it start ? “  “ -- And when will it stop ? ��  “ If we run out of time, then where does it go ? “  “ Is time even real ?! Does anyone know ? “  “ Maybe time's just a construct of human perception ? “  “ An illusion created by -- “  “ Sunrise, sunset, night and day. “  “ The changing seasons ... the smell of hay. “  “ Look at your hair grow, isn't it strange how time makes your appearance change ? “  “ Make it stop ! “ “ It's out of my hands. “ “ Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be fine ! “  " ... Eventually, everyone runs out of time ... “ ‘ Love ‘ “ Isn't it nice to finally be outside on such a beautiful day ? “ “ Yes ! ... And I've packed us a delicious chicken picnic ! “ “ Huh ? “ “ Pesky bee ! “ “ Hmmmm, he seems upset about something ... I wonder what happened ? “ “ It makes you sad, doesn't it ? “ “ There's so much hatred in the world ! “ “ I hope you don't mind if I ask you a question ... “ “ A little baby pigeon ! “  “ Have you ever wondered why we're here ? ” “ What's it all about ? -- You've no idea ! “ “ Everywhere you look, all you see is hatred, and darkness, death, and fear. “ “ -- But you know it doesn't have to be. “ “ I hate you, and you hate me ! “ “ Cause even though we're different, it doesn't make a difference. “  " We can live in harmony ! “ “ No, you don't know who I am, but maybe I could hold your hand ? ” “ Together we can understand about love ! “ “ Huh, I feel tingly ... ! “  “ Yes, that's love, my friend, and it's time for you to learn all about it ! “ “ Love is a place, love is a thing. “ “ Do you ever feel like life's unfair ‘cause everybody hates you, and no one cares ?! “ “ If you follow me, maybe you'll see: that love is everywhere ! “ “ What is love, is it in the sky ? “ “ No, it's a feeling, deep inside ! “ “ ... Because I'm hungry ? “ “ No, you're lonely ! I can see it in your eyes ! “ “ I don't understand. “ “ Don't worry ! “  “ Come and meet some of my friends; they know all about love ... “ “ Come on, just over the rainbow ! " “ Oh look, there he goes, flying through the sky. “ “ Maybe, we should follow him, or we'll get left behind ? “  “ Yes, but there's lots of chicken left and I'd like to eat the chicken ! “ “ I'd also like to eat the chicken; let's do that instead ! “ “ So, here we are with all my friends and they love you, all of them ! “ “ We love you; and you love us too ! “ “ I love you too, furry boy. “ “ Now we've eaten the chicken, I don't know what to do. “  “ Maybe we should look for our friend; Isn't that what friends do ? “ “ To love each other is to care, to be kind, and to share. “ “ I love my friend so I give him a hug ! “ “ I made this for you, cause I love you so much ! “  “ No no no, that's not how it's done ! “ “ You must save your love for your special one. “ “ You're confused, but that's okay ! Let me put it another way ... “ “ This is the story of Michael ... the loneliest boy in town. “ “ The ugliest boy in town, ugly and weak -- they called him a freak. “ “ We must feed him gravel or he’ll become angry ! “  “ And this is your chance to start anew ! “ “ All we're asking you to do is change your name, clean your brain, and forget anything about you that you ever knew. “ “ Your heart will find its home. “ " Our love will never go ! “ “ Now wear this ring, and you will never be alone. “ “ Oh, there you are - we've been looking for you all afternoon ! “ “ We're sorry we upset you ! “  “ -- But look, we've bought you the last boiled egg to cheer you up ... “ “ I guess it must be because we LOVE you. “
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ditttiii · 4 years
Text
Enchanted To Meet You || 03.
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SERIES MASTER-LIST (NEXT CHAPTER)
This chapter:- no warnings except teeth rotting fluff~
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Summary: No one ever told you that you had a soulmate or—soulmates, for that matter. Humans don't have soulmates, but shapeshifters do. What are you supposed to do when the seven members of the worlds biggest boy band turn out to be your soulmates—only for you to realise that they aren't even human.
BTS is on a hiatus and ARMY thinks they are completing their mandatory military service. You believe that too, at least you did, until you realised that you had adopted them and that one way or another they were gonna live with you—as Hybrids because apparently you all are soulmates.
SOULMATE AU // HYBRID AU // IDOL AU  
banner by: @thebannershop​
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You slam shut the door to your apartment behind you with the heel of your shoe, your hands preoccupied with holding a basket and supplies that you had bought on your way home. The basket was currently housing your new pet. The top of it perforated to let the air in, but still closed enough to make sure that your bunny couldn't just hop out and run away. While you were surprised by how calm and friendly he seemed after barely knowing you for an hour, you still weren't about to risk yourself a runaway bunny.
You put the basket down on your center table before you move to the kitchen to store away your supplies. You need to sort your head and home before you open them both to another being. And so for the next 30 minutes, you think back to all your experiences as a previous rabbit owner and turn your house into a rabbit friendly abode. You hide all the sharp things away in cupboards and tape the old jagged edges of your bed to make sure that your new roommate doesn't accidentally cut himself while jumping over. Sooner or later, you know it was going to happen. 
You stop once you are done "bunny-proofing" the house and take a look around. You try to find any more potential injury-inducing spots and breathe out a relieved sigh once you can't find any. 
Right! Time to get the little baby out now, you think, but you don't make any move to go to the basket. Your hands, for some reason, are clammy and uncomfortably wet. Your pulse is higher than usual. All of these textbook signs of nervousness, you know. 
'This is ridiculous. Why do I feel nervous about having a bunny? I should be excited, dammit!' You think to yourself as you huff out a breath and plop your body on the sofa. You know you should open the basket and let the bunny out. He probably feels stuffed sitting in there. But for some reason, you have this feeling deep in the pit of your stomach that's making you feel like you are missing something. 
'But what?' you question yourself. You furrow your brows and bury your hands in your hair. Pulling at the strands in frustration, you groan out loud. You feel confused, anxious—scared, and you don't understand why. And that was driving you up the wall. 
'And what was that little episode earlier?' A voice inside your head questions and you sink further into your couch. You still don't understand why you almost fainted like that. 
'And what was that pain?' You shift your hands and wrap them around yourself. You had to go to the doctors to get checked too. There was no way in hell that you were going to ignore something like that. As a med-student, you knew better by now. You look up to the box as you hear your bunny scratching at the inside of it. 'I hope he doesn't scratch me like my last one did,' you muse to yourself as you stand and move closer to the basket. 
Once you reach it, you quickly pick up the basket and transfer it to your couch. Just in case your bunny has lost its unexplainable affection for you. Then you settle down beside it and carefully open the lid of the basket, gently, as to not startle the little bunny. No sooner had you opened the lid than he poked his head out, staring at you.
You stop and look at him as he looks at you, the look in his eyes something that you could only describe as overtly curious. You keep your eyes locked onto him as he pushes his head even further out the basket, his front paws making an appearance as he stands and puts them on the edge of it. You slowly inch back a little, knowing from your experience, that it was a sign that he was going to jump out. However, to your growing surprise, he does no such thing. He continues to stand there, with his two front paws on the edge of the basket, his head hovering between them as he keeps looking back at you, making no move to jump out. His ears, soft and white with the tips covered with faint soft brown fur, stand straight, twitching now and then. 
You move closer, fascinated by how different he was than what you had been expecting. And as if reading your actions as a sign to come closer, he pushes his head out further—closer to you. The edge of the basket straining, bending under his weight as he pushes all his body weight on it to push himself closer. 
You gasp as he reaches further than you had expected him to, still not jumping out, and you go cross-eyed as you try to keep your eyes on him. Before you can push yourself back, he closes the last few inches between your faces and nuzzles his nose below your lower lip. You stay frozen as you feel tiny huffs of warm breath hit your sensitive skin. His soft, long white whiskers tickle your lips and you try to scoot back a little, in case you end up sneezing on the poor bunny but before you can scoot back more than an inch, he hops out. 
You squeal like a teenage girl and almost topple off of the couch, as you try to save your face from the very sharp claws of your bunny. 'Need to get them cut or at least filed,' you think and watch as your bunny uses the distraction to make himself comfortable on your lap. Curling his paws under him until you could no longer see them and putting his head on your thigh, he nuzzles the covered skin of your jean-clad thigh. 
You sigh as you watch him get comfortable before a smile breaks out on your face. He was weirdly affectionate towards you, and you don't understand why that is but you would be lying if you said that you didn't like it. A laugh breaks out of you as you hear your bunny huff and scratch at your jeans, probably not very fond of the material. But you also weren't going bare around him until you could get his nails filed, past experiences had taught you that it would be a very bad idea.
And so you spend the next hour lounging on your couch, petting your new bunny. His fur feels like silk as you run your hands through it. Every now and then he would also raise his head and nudge your fingers, stroking and pressing his face into them almost as if he was kissing them. You coo and bring him up to your chest, settling him there, before sprawling on the couch comfortably and turning on your TV. You continue caressing him as you mindlessly watch and surf through channels, losing track of time.
It's only a couple of hours later when the sun has gone down and your apartment is dark—the living room illuminated only by the light from the television, that you realise how long you have been acting like a couch potato. Your bunny is asleep, still very much on top of you, soft purrs that almost sound like snores reaching your ears. You resist the urge to hug him close and instead softly pick him up, careful to not wake him before you place him back on the couch, and silently make your way to the kitchen to get your dinner started. 
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You dice a carrot and a cucumber before mixing them both with some herbs you had got on your way, making a salad of sorts. You need to go shopping soon to get veggies that would suit his diet more on a daily basis, but for tonight it would do. 
Done with his meal, you opt for instant ramen for yourself, too tired after the long day to bother with anything more nutritious. Once you have your ramen served, you pick up both bowls and make your way back to the living room, switching on the lights with a hit of your elbow.
"Upsie daisy bugzayy~" you call out as you place the bowls on the center-table, and plant yourself right back onto the couch. 
"Come on you lazy butt, time to eat!" You call out again and run your hands softly over his ears, playing with them. "I should give you a name, eh?" 
At that, he finally looks up, his eyes glitter with interest, or so you assume, before he bobs his head, almost as if he's nodding?
‘You really should go to the doctors to get checked, something is probably wrong with you if you think your rabbit is nodding and understanding your language,’ some part of your brain whispers and you can’t help but agree. You have been acting a bit spazzy all day and it would probably be a good idea to get checked, maybe you should schedule a psychologist visit too.
"Alright big guy, how about Bugz?" you suggest but the way his bunny ears immediately drop at hearing that, makes you retract your suggestion. 
"Alright, that's fine. No Bugz, uhh" you pause before continuing "okay how about Kookie?" you throw out, it wasn't exactly a secret how much you loved K-pop. You are sure if your classmates knew you had a new pet, they would assume that you'd name it after some K-pop singer and they wouldn't be wrong, and if the sudden rise of your bunnies ears is any indication, he loves the name too. You giggle as he does a happy hop before you push his food bowl closer to him. With one last glance his way, seeing him happily munch away at his dinner, you at last tuck into yours.  
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A/N: Finallyy! This is roughly 2k words of nothing but bunny kookiexOC interaction and *phew* I am so glad it’s done. Scene building is my forte, interactions? not so much. But I’m pretty happy with how it turned out :) 
Hope you all have been enjoying the frequent uploads! I know how much quarantine sucks and so I’ve been trying really hard to push out updates and requests as fast as I can. 
If you like my work please drop a like. Feedback is also VERY much appreciated- whether as a comment or ask. The poll is still open. And for anyone who hasn’t voted–Go Vote for whoever you want me to introduce next!
Thank-you so much for taking the time to read my work. I also really reallyyy appreciate all the people who have left comments or asks or re-blogs with their feedback :’) I would not be writing this story rn if it wasn’t for the support that it receives. So Thank you and I love you!
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lailyn · 4 years
Text
Supermarket Sweep
“Now remember, guys. We are here to get a few items, and these items only,” Stephen warned. 
“Come on, Stephen. Live a little.” Tony slung an arm around his husband’s shoulders. “It’s been a while since we’ve gone grocery shopping together. You never want to take any of us with you when you go.”
“Yes, because when I go to the shops to get bread, bread is what I get. Not a gazillion boxes of mince pies and Christmas pudding.”
“They were on discount!” Tony argued.
Stephen rolled his eyes. “It’s already Easter, of course they were!”
“They were covered in edible gold dust,” Tony said with a defensive shrug. “Loki said the puddings looked really pretty.”
“Yes, they were,” Loki said dreamily.
“Fine, but no more! It’s not the healthiest thing, eating Christmas pudding for breakfast every day, and I had to do it for weeks,” Stephen ranted. “Can we please get something you’re actually going to eat this time? Here, if we stick to the grocery list - ”
“Yes, yes,” Loki sighed, grabbing the list out of Stephen’s hand. 
“Thank - ” and Loki crushed the list in his fist and dropped the ball of paper onto the ground, “ - you,” Stephen finished glumly.
“Tsk-tsk, Loki,” Tony chastised. He patted Stephen on the back and bent to pick the crumpled list from off the ground.
“Thank you...“ Stephen’s voice trailed off at the sight of Tony chucking the list into the trash can. “Tony.”
“Tsk-tsk, Stephen. Why do you always concern yourself with such inconsequential matters?” Tony asked, mimicking Loki’s crisp accent. “You’re going to give yourself wrinkles.”
He ruffled Stephen’s hair affectionately, before making his way toward the store entrance where Loki was already pulling out not one, not two, but three shopping trolleys. “Hey, Lokes, wait up!”
“Wrinkles,” Stephen muttered, resisting the urge to finger his face for fear of finding new ones. He was sure a few had just cropped up and they had not been here five minutes. 
__________________________
Loki stood at the fruits and vegetable section, half-listening to Stephen and Tony argue over the merits and demerits of getting imported fruits over local, seasonal ones for Happy Hogan’s fruit basket, who was currently in hospital recovering from something called a pacemaker operation.
Loki did not understand why they were making their own fruit basket as a get-well gift instead of doing the conventional thing by ordering it online.
Stephen had said something about how a personal human touch would make anything more special and...Loki could not very well argue with that, having acquired not one, but two personal humans of his own. 
Oh look. A little human. 
"Hello," he said mildly as a woman pushed a trolley past him. 
She only gave him a suspicious look before clearing her throat. 
Loki took a few steps to the side to allow her access to the ready-to-eat chilled soups and packaged salads. 
Soon, he found himself locked in a staring match with the toddler sitting in the trolley.
Loki wondered what it would be like if they had little humans of their own. Their place was certainly big enough for a dozen of them.
He reached for the 'Free Fruit for Kids' display basket, picked a banana from the pile of loose fruits and held it out to the boy.
"Eat it," Loki commanded.
Tony lunged and grabbed the banana out of Loki's hand, before dragging his lover down the aisle as far away as possible from the boy and his mother, who by now, was looking seconds away from calling the police.
"Loki, you can't feed other people's kids without their permission!" Tony hissed, while Stephen apologised profusely to the woman in the background.
"I see," Loki murmured, unperturbed. "If I wanted to feed little humans, I have to make sure they are my own." 
"Huh?" Tony asked in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
Loki only hummed appreciatively at the revelation and walked away. This required some thinking and quite possibly a serious discussion with his humans.
________________________
“Sumac? What do you even use that for?”
Loki shrugged. “It’s the only one we don’t have. It is not my fault that the ancient Romans settled for so many letters in their alphabet system.”
Loki was obsessed with the supermarket’s own-brand must-have A-Z selection of spices. He hardly cooked but whenever he deigned to help out in the kitchen, Tony and Stephen had better use one if not most of the spices. 
“What do you mean? There’s plenty of spices starting with S.”
“Name one.”
“Sage.”
“You said sage makes your eyes water.”
“Salt. Salt begins with ‘S’.” 
“Salt isn’t a spice.”
“Is too.”
“A spice by definition is a seed, fruit, root, bark or other plant substance. Salt isn’t any of those, is it?”
“You just want to collect all the bottles, don’t you?”
“They’re pretty,” Loki said simply. He nuzzled his pout against Tony’s stubbled jaw. “I like pretty little things.”
“Yeah?” Tony asked huskily. “What else do you like?”
Loki’s smile widened.
_______________________ 
“You do know there is a reason why supermarkets are laid out the way they are?” Stephen asked dryly upon finally locating his husbands in the cereal aisle after a fruitless search of the first few aisles, which they had obviously bypassed. “This is why it takes ages shopping with you guys.”
His two husbands appeared to be engaged in a hushed but heated discussion about something. 
Stephen frowned. “What’s going on?” 
“Nothing,” Tony and Loki said, almost in unison. 
“Loki, please step away from the trolley,” Stephen requested politely.
Loki tried to stand his ground in front of the trolley, but groaned in frustration when Stephen simply put his hands on Loki’s hips. 
Loki could never win against his husband’s tactile style of persuasion. Very, very reluctantly he stepped away from the trolley. 
Stephen dug through the boxes of all sorts of sugar-free, multi-grain based breakfast cereals, all offerings to appease Doctor Stephen Strange. 
Just as he expected, right at the very bottom of the trolley, were a few boxes each of Frosties, Fruit Loops and Honey Nut Cheerios.
“Can you leave me just one?” Loki pleaded. “Please?”
Stephen had to smile to himself. Innocent subterfuge aside, Loki could have used magic to conceal his treasure trove of teeth-rotting cereal but he did not. 
He replaced the healthy cereals back on the shelf, leaving Loki’s selection untouched in the trolley. 
Tony and Loki stared at him in bewilderment. 
“Live a little, right?” Stephen sighed. “Just as long as you eat them, I’m happy.”
Stephen had never seen Tony beam more proudly or Loki’s eyes shine as bright, and he wondered if he had not been bewitched, just a little bit. 
_______________________
“That was such a good trip, wasn’t it?” Tony gushed as he stepped out of the portal.
“Yep.” Stephen had to agree. “There was no magic, no stealing, no stabbing. I think we did alright, considering.”
“We did awesome,” Tony corrected. He had to pause in the midst of gushing to enjoy the sudden kiss Stephen was planting on his mouth. “See? I was right. We should do more of these things together, just the three of us.”
“Oh.” 
Tony and Stephen turned. 
“What is it, Games?” “Did you forget to get something?” They spoke at the same time, noticing the frown on Loki’s face. 
Then Stephen noticed a brown paper bag in Loki’s hand that had not been there when they left the store. “What have you got there, babe?” 
From the bag, Loki slowly retrieved a chocolate Easter bunny half the size of a football. Then he took out two more, arranging the three of them neatly on the kitchen counter. 
“I don’t eat chocolate, but thanks anyway,” Stephen said, relieved that Loki’s secret purchase had simply been chocolate. Their not-strictly-human husband had brought back some strange items in the past. 
Loki rummaged through the paper bag again.
“There’s more?” Tony raised an eyebrow. “Sorry to disappoint you, Lokes, but the bunnies are 100% chocolate, they only wrap them in gold paper - ”
A tiny Easter bunny joined the family of three on the counter. 
A silence so absolute fell over the house that Loki could practically hear his human husbands’ fantastic brains turn and their heartbeats pick up pace. 
“What do you think?” Loki asked, hoping his shaking voice would not give his fears away .
“What do we - ” Stephen swallowed hard. “Are you saying that you’re - ?”
Tony was lost for words. He hurried to Loki’s side. 
“No, no.” Loki shook his head vehemently. “No…” Before he could hesitate for too long, “But I could be.”
The tightening of Tony’s arm around his waist gave Loki the final push he needed. “I suppose what I am trying to ask is...could we be?”
Tony and Stephen’s exchange of stunned looks lasted only a second before Stephen dropped the grocery bag he was holding onto the floor. He marched across the kitchen and closed the distance between them. 
Before Loki knew it, Stephen had wrapped his arms around them both, engulfing his husbands in a rough hug.
“I’m in.” Stephen kissed Loki and Tony’s temples one after the other, over and over. “I’m so fucking in.”
“Tony?” Loki called his name uncertainly. 
“Gosh, Loki. You promised you wouldn’t make my eyes water,” Tony managed. 
Loki bit the inside of his lip. “I would apologise for that, but uh, does that mean you’re in?”
“Of course I’m in, silly!” Tony laughed. “Someone needs to inherit all my billions!’
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sams-sass · 4 years
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Always
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Summary: You and Sam realize something on a case when you make a bold decision. 
Pairing: Sam x Reader
Warnings: Language, mutual pining, fluff
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It all started with a ghoul. A dirty, disgusting, and hungry ghoul. This gross scavenger made you rethink everything about your life. Everything you thought you knew about your heart was about to take a turn that you could have never expected.
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You were on the computer in the library, your shoulders hunched and eyes squinted in concentration. You took a long sip of coffee and tilted your head to the side.
“Hey.” Dean said, walking into the library. His hair was spiked in different directions and he was wearing his robe.
“Hey, I think I found something.” You said, blinking up at him.
“Finally, I gotta get out of this damn bunker.” Dean leaned over your left shoulder. He smelt like coffee, stale whiskey, and mint toothpaste.
“Yeah, me too. I don’t know what it is though, I’m not even sure if it’s a case.” You turned your head to look at his face that was about five inches from yours.
“Well, if it’s not, it will still be a reason to get out for a bit.” He slapped the table slightly and smiled down at you before walking into his room, passing Sam in the hallway.
“Hey.” Sam greeted his brother.
“Hey, go talk to Y/N, she thinks she’s got a case. I’m going to go pack.” Dean instructed his brother.
Sam walked out into the library and saw you sitting at the library table. You were moving your head and grabbing your shoulder. This always happened. You always concentrated too hard and scrunched your shoulders around your ears for hours. Your shoulders were sore for days afterward and it never failed to make Sam giggle. He ran his fingers through his hair and walked over to you, placing a hand on your back. Sam thought of you as one of his best friends. Someone he could talk to about anything. Who he could always rely on. You looked up and smiled at him. Sam didn’t understand the way his stomach flipped at the sight of your smile, there were times when he was almost halted by you. You were his friend, but he was a man and you were striking. He just chalked it up to loneliness and the fact that no one could deny your beauty.
“Found us a case, I think. I gotta get out of this freaking bunker.” You swung your head back, looking directly into Sam’s eyes and stopped in your tracks. Your heart skipped a beat in your chest and you tried to laugh it off, too much coffee. Sam was your best friend. He was someone you could always count on, no matter the situation. However, you were a woman and he was a freaking god so it was hard to ignore that from time to time. You licked your lips and cleared your throat, running your fingers over your hair. Calm down, Y/N, its just Sam. Get it together.
“Where?” He leaned down and just like his brother looked over your shoulder at the computer. He smelled like orange peel, spices, and the earth. Your eyes closed at the warm and familiar smell surrounding you. He smells so good. STOP. God, I need to get laid.
“Iowa.” You pointed to a section of the article that seemed off to you. “People are going missing for a few days and them appearing again as if nothing happened. They seem to live their normal life and then they disappear again, odd right?” You put your elbow on the table and leaned your head on your hand.
“Definitely odd, could be something.” Sam nodded and placed his hand on your back again, looking down at you. His skin is so warm…QUIT IT.
“I’m gonna go pack.” You stood up kind of abruptly and walked toward your room, your brow furrowed in confusion. Your face felt warm and your breathing was quick in your chest. You shook your head and got to work packing your bag.
Fifteen minuets later you all climbed into the impala and took off. The heat from the sun was pouring into the backseat and you felt sweat sitting on your lower back. You sat up and removed your jacket, rolling your head around from your sore shoulders. Sam caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to watch you take your jacket off. You reached up and moved your hair out of your face before leaning back against the seat. Sam had seen you in stages of undress before, you were hunters and things happen. Sometimes clothes needed to be stripped in order to fix wounds or press against others wounds. Something felt different here, he had never felt pulled to you like his was now. God, she’s fucking perfect. Nope, don’t entertain that thought. Sam turned back in his seat and pulled lightly on his collar, suddenly feeling constricted in his clothes. You leaned your elbows on the seat and poked your head between the two of them, telling Dean that you were hungry. Sam caught your sent in his nose, his eyes closing and his heart racing. If she smells that good, I wonder what she tastes like. NO. STOP. She’s your friend, quit being weird.
The three of you arrived at the town and began to canvas the people who were reported missing. You were all sitting in the impala again on a stake out. You were in the backseat, propped against the door. Your feet tapping to the soft music Dean was playing. You yawned and moved your sore shoulders again, inching towards the window. You saw movement and hit the seat lightly, getting the boys attention. They both looked and saw him in the house. The guy you had been watching, Eric, walked out the front door and headed on foot towards the town. You all got out of the impala and went to the trunk. Grabbing guns, knives, holy water. Everything really. Armed and ready you all followed him through town. He snuck into the graveyard on the other side of town, looking over his shoulder the whole time. Dean went in first with you and Sam closely behind him. Eric walked into one of the old mausoleums, as he walked in you noticed blood on his hand. The three of you all exchanged a look and leaned against the walls, looking in through the small windows. Eric’s footsteps echoed throughout the cement tomb. He grabbed the casket laying in the open, as if it was just placed there. He opened it with ease. Inside lay…Eric. Your eyebrows knitted together on your forehead and you glanced back at Sam. He looked at you with the same confusion on his face. His eyes really have so many colors in them…Jesus Y/N, focus! His eyes shifted from yours to behind you and widened. His arms circled your waist and he pulled you into him as he fell to the ground. You were now sitting in his lap on the cold dirt. His body was so firm and warm, wrapping you into him like your favorite blanket. Dean was next to him, crouched and waiting.
“What happened?” You whispered, hoping he couldn’t hear your heart beating out of your chest.
“Someone else is here.” Dean whispered back, his fingers splaying against the cold concrete of the tomb. Sam moved slightly and it took everything in you not to press your body harder against his. What is happening? This is Sam for christ sake. Salad eating, nerdy, book loving Sam. This tension was building and it was really starting to distract you.
Having you against him like that was too much for Sam, he couldn’t handle the way you were making him feel. Your warm and soft body pressed against his was like adding fuel to an already burning fire. When you landed on him all he could do was go completely stiff against you. The smell of your hair. The feeling of your breath on his skin. The way you melted into him. You are on a case, Sam, start using your brain. But my god does she feel good. I could lose myself in her.
“There’s two of them. Whatever they are.” Dean was the only one still paying attention to the case. He stood up taller and chanced another look in the mausoleum. His face turned to one of disgust and he crouched back down next to you.
“What?” You and Sam said at the same time.
“Ghouls, they are having dinner right now.” Dean scrunched his face and shook his head, trying to get the image out.
“Gross.” You agreed with Dean.
“Alright, you guys take Eric. I’ll follow the other one.” Dean instructed, flicking his head. You all stood and followed them after they were done…eating. Eric surprised you and Sam by walking into the woods. You followed him, frequently exchanging looks of confusion. He went into a small and worn down shack after about a mile. You and Sam crouched down against the side of the house and listened closely. You wanted to see if this was a trap or not. You pressed your ear to the side of the house and closed your eyes, listening for anything suspicious. Hearing just footsteps and seeing a flashlight through the window you and Sam decided to go in, guns ready. You moved together towards the door and watched each other as you moved. You entered the house and Eric, or the ghoul pretending to be Eric, turned around with a wide grin. He charged at you and Sam, fists flying and guns blazing. He took a hard swing at you. You fell to the ground, your head hitting the rotting wood with force. Sam landed a gut punch to his left side. You gathered yourself to your feet and staggered slightly, gaining your balance. You aimed your gun and found Sam’s eyes in the darkness. He nodded and grabbed the ghoul, throwing him down so you could shoot. Bullet straight to the heart. He went down quick. Sam helped you move the body into a closet and that’s when you heard the knocking.
“Police, open up!” A man screamed from right outside the door. Trapped. Sam kicked the ghouls foot in and closed the door, turning towards you.
“Run.” He said, practically pushing you. You weren’t going to let him take all the blame for this. You acted completely on instinct then. You reached forward and unbuttoned Sam’s shirt before reaching up and messing up his hair. Then you reached down and unbuttoned your own shirt. Sam was staring at you with wide and confused eyes, trying to keep his eyes off your unbuttoned shirt. You heard the door bang in its frame. They were kicking it down to get inside. Now or never, Y/N. You grabbed Sam’s collar and pulled him towards you. You pressed your lips against his as the banging against the door got louder.
Your lips hit his and the warmth quickly spread throughout Sam, his blood running hotter in his veins. The world dropped from around him and all he could feel, taste, smell, or see was you. His fingers ran through your hair, twisting some strands between his fingers. In that moment he knew. He knew you were the only thing he could ever want. You were the only thing he was going to crave for the rest of his life. You were like the rays of sun shining through the branches of a tree on a warm spring day. Welcoming, warm, fresh, and peaceful. You were like the lyrics to his favorite song. Learned and known, but holding a special place in his heart. She tastes better than I thought she would. Sam’s arms lifted you to him, bringing you as close as you could possibly be.
The door slammed open, hitting the wall. Lights flashed on you and Sam.
“Freeze!” They screamed, their voices deep and authoritarian. You and Sam broke apart. Your hair a mess, your lips puffy and red as your heart pounded in your chest. Your breath was coming in large and heavy, your chest rising and falling quickly. You tried to focus back on reality. Sam let you down and put his hands up. The cops looked at both of you and then exchanged glances with each other. They lowered their weapons and held in their smiles.
“Sorry.” You spoke, your voice was breathy and low.
“Alright, get outta here.” The cop said, waving his hand out the door. You and Sam made your way back into the woods while you buttoned up your shirt. “Go find somewhere else to fool around.”
The two of you took off, walking quickly and then into full out running. Sam called Dean and he had the impala waiting at the edge of the woods for you to jump into. You and Sam quickly got into the car with heavy breaths and beating hearts, Dean took off quickly.
“What happened?” Dean asked.
“I think the ghoul tried to set us up by calling the cops.” Sam said, wiping the sweat off his forehead.
“How did you get away?” Dean asked, his face one of confusion.
“We uh, we hid the body so there was no reason for them to look into it any further.” Sam said quickly, his eyes watching Dean’s reaction.
“Really? Huh.” Was all Dean said back. He leaned forward and turned the music up, hitting the gas peddle harder. The car ride was quiet and tense. You could feel the waves coming off of Sam as you looked at the back of his head. He barely moved the entire car ride. You knew you should feel exhausted, but your heart and mind were racing too fast. That kiss was more than you could have ever thought. It was hot and passionate. Full of emotions and lust. There was no denying it: you couldn’t get enough of him. You wanted him. Wanted him more than you had ever wanted anything in your life. His hands on your skin were like waves crashing on a shoreline. He felt like wind whispering through the trees on a crisp fall day. Awakening something buried deep inside you. As soon as your lips had touched his, you knew. You knew he was going to be the one thing you put above all else. I’m in love with him, always have been.
You made it back to the bunker around 2am. You all filed into your rooms, with closed doors and shut off lights. You were laying in bed, willing sleep to take you in its peaceful embrace. There was nothing. You couldn’t stop thinking about Sam, pining for him in the stillness of night. You rolled over and let out a long and defeated sigh. You decided to stop fighting it and got up. You pulled on a flannel that you stole from Sam about a year ago now and played with the fabric between your fingers. You closed your eyes and smiled to yourself, feeling him all around you. You left your room, making your way through the quiet halls of the bunker. The library was always a place you found calming and serene. You found your favorite book and began to read.
Sam couldn’t sleep, his mind was too busy with thoughts of you. The way you felt against him. Your warm and intoxicating scent. How it had filled him completely. He wanted to sleep, could feel the ache in his bones, but he couldn’t stop you from dancing through his mind. It was here in the bed that he realized how he had felt about you all these years. You were his. Everything about you filled everything in him. He realized now that he didn’t just want to spend the peaceful times with you. You were his peace. You were his happiness. His heart rate quickened at his realization. I’m in love with her, always have been. Sam moved from his bed and wandered into the cold halls of the bunker. He knew the library was your safe place. A place you felt peace and tranquility. That’s where he found you. His heart stopped at the sight of you. He let out a breath and licked his lips, his eyes never leaving you. You were laying on top of the table on your stomach. Your arms bent and resting on your elbows, your head in your hands. You were wearing one of Sam’s shirts and a par of socks. Your knees were bent, putting your feet in the air, swaying back and forth slightly. Your eyes scanned the pages of a book. He wondered if you thought about him. God, she’s absolutely amazing.
“Hey.” His voice broke the silence. You looked up from your book and swallowed thickly. Your stomach flipped in your abdomen and you thought your heart was going to pump out of your chest.
“Hey.” You practically whispered back. Your voice felt caught in your throat.
“So, I have been thinking a lot about that kiss.” He said, his feet bringing him closer to you. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. What the hell am I going to do now? Just talk, Y/N, just say anything.
“What about it?” Your body moved into a sitting position on the table, your legs folding under you. Sam watched you move and felt himself stiffen. What the hell do I say back to that? Should I ask her why she did it or should I just tell her I liked it? Shit. Shit. Shit. Ok, moment of truth.
“Well, about how much I liked it.” Sam said, his body pressing against the table. His eyes were staring into yours with a look you had never seen before. Oh, I am in for it now. I am going to die right here on this table. No, I am going to answer him. Wait. What did he say again? Crap. Do something, Y/N! Just kiss him.
That’s exactly what you did. For the second time that night you pulled him to you. Your lips pressing against his. His hands ran over your skin, grabbing and squeezing at your soft flesh. He grabbed your hips and yanked you to the edge of the table. His hips moving between yours as his hands ran over your back. You moaned into his mouth and opened for him, letting his tongue explore you. Kissing him was like that drop on a roller coaster. There was that feeling of nervous energy as you hit the highest point and then the total euphoria as you fell, picking up speed as you went. Sam couldn’t stop, you were like an 80 degree day in February; unexpected and exciting. Your skin on his was sending a fire through his blood. He couldn’t control how you made him feel. The two of you together were tidal wave, crashing through his mind and making him forget everything he knew.
I love her so fucking much.
I love him so much, holy shit. Its like he was made for me.
There was no stopping the two of you. You conquered together, always by each other’s sides. You were his and he was yours, completely. He was there on the nights where it seemed like all lights had gone out and hope was fading. You were there on the days of calm, when the world was still. You celebrated together and fell hard together, experiencing life as one. You were in love and had always been.
Tags: @watermelonlipstick​ @virtualheaderssupernaturalnerd​ @wnchetrs​ @lukawats​
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doppelnatur · 3 years
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YOU DONT KNOW ABT SALAD FINGERS??? holy shit SF rotted my brain ive never looked at spoons or green felt the same again
definitely a cool but weird internet art project 2 check out if u ever have time — the theories are great & the storytelling is possibly the most ominously memorable i’ve ever seen w/o the use of copy-pasted horror tropes
Ohhhh! I thought it was some kind of food,,,,, I'll check it out!!! Thank you!
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pompurumi · 9 months
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when Salad Fingers integrates back into society with the help of Kenneth, he'd def have a fat collection of these cunty flipphones and a bunch of charms to go with them. David firth told me.
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surelynotshirley · 3 years
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Narancia + GiorBuccia???
Cleaning out my Notion a little and found this WIP that is titled Narancia + GiorBuccia except I have no idea where I was going with this but I wrote enough that it’s a waste to let rot in my Notion
Fugo is, unsurprisingly, the first to notice the shift in Narancia's attitude.
The group is seated at a small and unassuming ristorante away from the general hubbub of the city. Abbacchio and Bucciarati still seem on-edge, peering over their shoulders every few bites. Trish is safe inside of Mr. President but for the few seconds that Fugo saw her when he went inside to give her her meal, her face was pallid and drawn. It's hard to blame her, considering all the attempts to grab her have ended in bloodshed and death.
Narancia may not be the sharpest tool in the shed but the gravity of the situation is clear to him. He was the first person in the group to face down a member of the Hitman Team, after all, and Fugo still remembers how he felt when Narancia tottered back from his shopping trip, skin burnt and bleeding.
And yet, now, he seems completely unaware of his surroundings. His face is slack, mouth vaguely open, like how he looks every time Fugo is trying to explain to him basic math or science. Narancia looks miles away from the world, and Fugo resists the urge to stamp a foot down on Narancia's toes, just to wake him back up again.
It wouldn't do for them to cause a scene. They, unfortunately, stand out too much as it is.
"Narancia, is something the matter?" Fugo asks, watching as the tomato and mozzarella drops off of Narancia's fork and onto the plate for the nth time. "You've barely touched your lunch."
Narancia practically jumps out of his skin and he whirls onto Fugo as if he's only noticing Fugo for the first time. The overreaction makes heat rise up in Fugo's throat but he stamps it down.
"Wh-What?" Narancia yelps, his voice several octaves too high.
"Hey, shut up over there," Abbacchio says sharply, and even Bucciarati gives the two of them a disapproving look.
Fugo swallows down his immediate indignation at the unfair treatment. Narancia's the one making a fuss, not him. He may have taken on Narancia as a student, but he's not his mom or anything.
"I apologize," Fugo says at the same time Narancia mutters, "Sorry."
Mollified, Abbacchio sips from his wine and continues his conversation with Bucciarati, who merely nods every once in a while. He's clearly distracted, looking every few seconds at Giorno, and he's not the only one. Mista is also sneaking peeks at him and now that Fugo is paying attention, he can understand why.
"Oi, Giorno, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Mista asks, gesturing wildly with his fork. A bit of pasta sauce sprays in the air but lands on the floor rather than the tablecloth or anyone's clothing.
Giorno looks up, blinking confusedly. He does not stop dipping his bruschetta into the minestrone.
"I'm dipping my bruschetta into the minestrone," he explains patiently, as if he's trying to teach a child to say 'please' and 'thank you.'
Mista bristles at the patronizing tone.
"Yeah, I can see that!" he snaps. "I'm not asking you what you're doing. I'm asking you what you think you're doing. How can you ruin good bruschetta like that? You're making a goddamn mess. You call yourself an Italian? You're no better than an American."
He's loud, practically spitting out his words, and Giorno shrinks back slightly. Not out of fear or apprehension, it seems, but more so that Mista's saliva doesn't get all over his food.
"It's too hard," Giorno says. He doesn't stop letting the bruschetta soak up the soup and Fugo watches in vague despair as bits of tomato floats into the liquid. He knows that Giorno is young, and that Giorno didn't exactly have the best upbringing, but his lack of basic table manners is embarrassing. "I'll break my tooth off on this bruschetta."
"That's how bruschetta is supposed to be!" Mista exclaims passionately. He picks up his own antipasti — a garlic focaccia — and shoves it into his mouth. As if he's really trying to prove a point to Giorno about Giorno's bruschetta by inhaling focaccia.
"Can't you use your Stand to make a new tooth?" Fugo asks.
"I can," Giorno says.
Fugo waits patiently for a bit more but Giorno seems to think that Fugo was satisfied by his answer and continues his horrible desecration of good Italian food.
"I can't watch this anymore," Mista says. He reaches out and snatches the bruschetta out of Giorno's hand, sighing despairingly at the wet texture of the bread. "Here, you can have my focaccia."
He shoves his half-eaten antipasti onto Giorno's plate and Giorno frowns.
"You already bit into this," he complains.
"Yeah, so? I brushed my teeth this morning."
Giorno fastidiously tears away at the parts that Mista had taken bites out of and starts to work on it. Thankfully, he doesn't dip the focaccia into the minestrone or wine or anything crazy. Mista has no qualms about sharing germs and simply stuffs the bruschetta into his mouth, chewing loudly.
Narancia gasps and when Fugo glances at him, he's covering his mouth with one hand, staring wide-eyed at the oblivious Mista. Now that he thinks about it, he was about to ask Narancia a question.
"Are you alright, Narancia?" Fugo asks, leaning forward to whisper the question into Narancia's ear. "Shh," he reminds him when Narancia jerks away. "You don't want to get yelled at again, do you?"
Narancia shakes his head. Bucciarati and Abbacchio, thankfully, didn't notice anything amiss this time. It's a little annoying that they didn't say anything to Mista and Giorno even though Mista was definitely causing a scene with his little rant, but there's something about Narancia's higher-pitched voice that carries on the wind. Fugo has confidence that he would be able to hear Narancia's yelling miles away.
"I'm fine," Narancia says. "Er...actually, yeah. I'm fine."
He absolutely does not look fine and the doubt must show on Fugo's face because Narancia scrunches up his nose in what he must think is an earnest expression.
"I see," Fugo says, feigning disinterest. He goes back to his meal and watches from the corner of his eye as Narancia breathes an obvious sigh of relief.
It's not as if Fugo plans on ever betraying Narancia but his straightforward honesty is a little worrying. Especially since Mista has a rather bad habit of spouting lies without any sense of guilt.
He observes Narancia as Narancia continues his meal. He stabs into his caprese salad but he never actually brings his fork up to his mouth. It's hanging open again, and Fugo resists the urge to slam the palm of his hand into Narancia's chin if only to make him close his mouth. Narancia's eyes are glazed over in thought — Fugo can practically hear the grinding of Narancia rubbing his two brain cells together — and he follows his gaze to see just what has Narancia's attention.
Giorno and Mista, despite Mista's earlier rebuke, are chatting contentedly over their meals. Now that Giorno is no longer massacring good bread, it seems that Mista's gotten over his bad mood, and he's laughing at his own joke while Giorno gives him a patient smile. Fugo wasn't paying attention to just what Mista said, but with the way Mista is cupping his palms in front of his chest, he doubts that it was anything worth listening to.
"Is there something wrong with Giorno and Mista?" Fugo asks, and he pre-emptively reaches out to slam his hand against Narancia's mouth as Narancia starts to inhale.
"MMGH," Narancia says, and Fugo presses the palm of his hand against Narancia's face even harder.
It unfortunately is not enough to stifle him. Abbacchio sighs, loudly and obviously, and drains the wine in his glass. Bucciarati gives Fugo a look that he saw teachers direct to some of the dumber students at university. Giorno and Mista turn as one to stare at them. Mista's mouth is still twisted in a half-smile and there's no telling just what emotion Giorno is feeling. His calm expression is the same as it always is.
"Fugo, Narancia, the two of you have been acting quite strange ever since we arrived in Venezia," Bucciarati says. He sets his fork and knife down, and steeples his fingers, settling his chin on them. It's a clear invitation. "Is there something you would like to say?"
Fugo didn't want to make Narancia say anything until he could confirm for himself that what Narnacia wants to share is worth sharing, but it's too late now. He removes his hand from Narancia's face and slaps his back in a reassuring gesture. Narancia coughs, hacking into his salad, as he struggles to catch his breath.
"Narancia here's the one who's acting strange. He hasn't eaten a single bite of his salad and he's clearly not paying any attention to his surroundings."
"Oi, Narancia, we're not done the mission yet," Abbacchio says sharply, as if he wasn't one of the people who suggested taking a quick break before finishing their escort mission and eating at a ristorante. "You can stare at clouds or whatever you want after we deliver Trish to the Boss."
"I wasn't staring at the clouds!" Narancia yells. He stabs a tomato with his fork and shoves it into his mouth, throwing them all a thumbs-up. "I was —"
He cuts himself off to grab a piece of mozzarella with his bare hands and eats it, chewing rapidly as if he thinks that the group would let him off the hook if they think he has his mouth full.
As if Mista and Abbacchio are that kind.
"Hey, hey, Narancia, were you thinking about Trish?" Mista says, hooking an arm around Narancia's shoulders.
"Gweh!" Narancia chokes and he hurriedly swallows.
Fugo leans against the table, sighing. Somehow, even though Fugo definitely spends more time with Narancia, it's always Mista who gets to pry secrets out of him. For some reason, Fugo was the last one of the group to learn about Narancia's secret crush on the local florist and he only heard about it after Narancia confessed and got turned down. Mista was the one who Narancia went to for advice, and it was Mista who insisted that Narancia even go for it in the first place.
If Fugo was the one Narancia talked to, he would never have given Narancia such awful advice. Yet another reason why Fugo really doesn't want Mista and Narancia hanging out with each other as much as they do.
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sunflwrvolume6 · 4 years
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someone lost, something gained [36]
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This is a huge step, a leap forward that she won’t ever be able to take back. And if this all ends disastrously, she will not only lose the only man who’s held her interest in three years but the man who has made her happy through such a horrible time. She meant what she told Antonio. She didn’t think she would ever smile again after Granddad passed, and that thought alone terrifies her.
[ao3 ☆ wattpad part one | part two]
[previous ☆ masterlist]
[get tagged here]
note: not going to lie, this is 4k of pure tooth-rotting fluff. i almost split it into 2 chapters/posts, but here it is in all its glory.
Veda frowns at her reflection, smoothing down the front of her dress. It’s too much, she knows it is, but Hattie had been adamant about this particular outfit. She’d said that if Niall didn’t want to take Veda to bed immediately after seeing her in this dress, then he’s either stupid or just not that into her. Veda crosses her fingers and hopes her cousin is right.
But she still walks out of the bathroom and into Hattie’s room with doubts swirling in her mind. “Are you sure I’m not, like, showing too much?”
“Veeeeee,” groans Hattie as she tosses her book aside. “Look. Yes, your back is exposed, and yes, maybe it’s a deeper neckline than you’re used to. But you don’t look like a two-dollar prostitute, so it’s a win.”
“Well, thank god for small mercies.” Sighing, Veda makes her way back to the mirror, calling over her shoulder, “What should I-?”
“Oh, step aside. Your favourite cousin is here to save the day. Sit,” Hattie orders with a vague gesture toward the tub.
Veda rolls her eyes but obeys while Hattie rummages through the bag Veda brought downstairs with her. Hattie comes up with an eyeliner pencil and bottle of foundation. She warns Veda to stay completely still -”Or I will stab you in the eye and not feel bad at all” - then gets to work. Veda follows every command, tilts her head up and down and side to side. She even manages to somehow control the twitching of her eyelids as her cousin applies mascara.
Finally, Hattie steps away and beams. “Hey, you actually look somewhat presentable.”
“Hey, you’re actually kinda being an ass.”
Hattie yelps when Veda goes to stand. “What do you think we’re doing? We aren’t done!”
“I’m supposed to be meeting him soon,” Veda protests, and Hattie shoves at her shoulders until Veda sits again. “If I’m late, I’m blaming you.”
“Worth it.”
Forty minutes later, Veda is slipping her feet into a pair of nude peep-toe heels, courtesy of her cousin who heard about the date finally happening and went shopping. She sighs and checks her reflection again. Dark red lips, perfect winged liner, curled lashes, and a touch of peach on her cheeks make her look entirely different than her every-day face. The mass of curls pinned on top of her head is definitely a change from her usual bun, and Veda will never waste the time again.
But even she has to admit Hattie’s magic has made her look incredible.
“Be home by Cinderella, or the carriage turns back into a pumpkin.” Hattie drops to sit on the couch and cocks her head. “Better yet, don’t come home at all.”
“Wow, you really think I’d put out on the first date?”
“For Niall? Yes.”
Veda pauses before collapsing into giggles. “Okay, yeah. You’re right. Don’t burn down the house.”
“I’ve been cooking since I was six. I think the house will be standing when you come home in the morning.”
Veda slides her phone into her purse and steps out onto the stoop, pulling the door shut behind her. Someone whistles sharply across the street, and she checks that Nonna isn’t watching before she raises her middle finger at Antonio. He laughs, shaking his head, and tells her to have fun. He really doesn’t need to add the lascivious wink - she hears the innuendo in his voice - but he does anyway.
“I’ll tell Nonna you’re pestering me, Ant.”
“She gets one look at’chu, she’s gonna wonder where you’re goin’ all dolled up. You really want questions right now?”
“I’ll tell her tomorrow,” she giggles as she makes her way down the block to the subway.
The sun edges closer to the horizon, but the heat of the day is nowhere near dissipating. Veda’s heels click against the pavement, joining the cacophony of fellow pedestrians moving to and fro. The restaurant is just ahead.
Her heart beats faster in her chest the closer she gets.
Hattie made sure Veda was out of the house in time, but Veda didn’t make sure she was actually ready for this.
This is a huge step, a leap forward that she won’t ever be able to take back. And if this all ends disastrously, she will not only lose the only man who’s held her interest in three years but the man who has made her happy through such a horrible time. She meant what she told Antonio. She didn’t think she would ever smile again after Granddad passed, and that thought alone terrifies her.
Niall is quite possibly the most wonderful she could ever love like this, and losing him would be just as devastating as losing Granddad.
Love. Far too early for that, Mitchell.
Light streams through the enormous windows, catches on Niall’s dark hair like a halo around his head. He’s staring down at the phone in his hand; his thumb taps at the screen, he pauses, then his thumb taps again. The process repeats five times before Veda’s phone vibrates against her side. She steps out of the foot-traffic, digging through her purse until she comes up with the device.
From: Niall > I’m excited to see you
It is such a simple message, but it brings a smile to Veda’s face until her cheeks hurt. She locks her phone and looks at him. He’s gorgeous. His face falls when he sees she’s read the message but isn’t responding. She swallows down the sudden surge of nerves and eases her way through the evening crowd.
“How many times did you write that message only to delete it again?”
His head snaps up, and his smile falters as his gaze skims over her body. “Fuck, Veda, you look - wow. You’re gorgeous.”
“Oh. Um, thank you. Hattie did all the work. I just played the role of live-action Barbie.” Her face heats up at the way his eyes are still on her. She steps forward to kiss his cheek. “You look amazing, too.”
And he really, really does. The gunmetal grey of his V-neck brings out the blue in his eyes, and his dark jeans only accentuate the muscles they hide. Veda’s mouth grows dry as she stares, fragments of a dream worming its way to the forefront of her mind. She wants to feel beneath her fingertips the stubble along his jaw, the soft strands of his hair between her fingers.
She wants to make him look as turned inside-out as he makes her feel.
Ever a gentleman, he holds the door open and waves her through. She laughs softly.
“This is just so you can stare at my ass, isn’t it?”
“I’m only a man, Ve-Veda,” he chuckles as his hand settles on her lower back, a steady point of warmth that rapidly overtakes her entire body.
Veda will remember nothing of the decor, none of the faces they pass as they follow the host to their table, or the aromas of meals that mingle in the air. All she can focus on is how his hand hasn’t moved. The way his fingers brush against the hem of her dress above the curve of her ass. The rush of her heart as it desperately tries to push oxygen through her veins instead of the desire to lead him to the bathroom.
As much as she loathes the loss of contact, Veda is thankful when they sit. His touch was far too distracting, and it is nearly impossible to be on your best behaviour when all you want to do is feel more of that touch in places unsuitable for public audience. He grins at her from across the table; his eyes hold a knowing gleam, and she wonders if he’s thinking the same thing.
She barely spares a second to check the menu, ultimately deciding on a salad. He frowns slightly, opens his mouth, but she shakes her head. The confusion on his face disappears when she explains she only eats like a pig at home. Being out in the real world means she has to use the manners Granddad worked so hard to teach her. Niall laughs and tells her she’s doing a great job.
“So, I have to admit something. I’ve been wanting to ask you out for, well, too long.”
Veda cocks her head. “Why didn’t you?”
“I didn’t want to make you feel like I was pushing myself onto you.”
She can’t help it - she starts giggling. “Sorry, sorry. It’s not funny. I mean, it kinda is? It’s why I don’t text you every day asking you to come over.”
“You should have. DB and I would’ve loved to spend more time with you.”
Ellie’s words echo in her mind, and Veda drops her gaze to stare at the glass of water. She doesn’t want to voice the doubts, but she knows she needs to. She has to know.
“Can I ask why? You wanted to ask me out, I mean. Aren’t you worried that this is just me, like, latching onto the first person who shows me a teeny tiny iota of stability during a life-altering event?”
“Well, I wasn’t before!” He taps his finger against his glass and laughs quietly. When he looks at her again, there’s an earnestness on his face that astounds her. “No, I’m not. Veda, I figured out a long time ago that sometimes, you make a choice and it turns out to be the worst fucking decision of your life. But it’s a lesson learnt, and you move on and try to remember that lesson.”
“But what if it turns out this is just my brain craving affection and comfort after I lost my best friend?”
He smiles softly, reaches for her hand, and she lets him link their fingers together. “Then I can’t be too upset, can I, that I’m the one who got to offer it to you.”
“Nope, nope, nope,” Veda mutters as she blinks rapidly, but the burning remains in her eyes. “I can’t do this. You are too damn perfect. What the Hell.”
The stricken expression on his face is replaced with amused exasperation, and he lifts her hand to press a kiss to the back of it. She bites her lower lip to stop her giggles, even as the server arrives with their meals, and Niall sticks his tongue out at Veda.
The date seems almost…effortless. As if it’s merely one of their hang-outs in a restaurant instead of her house. Even the knowledge that this is changing their relationship isn’t enough to make Veda panic for long. He keeps her laughing with stories of his childhood, and she tells him more about her life with Granddad, even the tale of her throwing a temper tantrum in the middle of the street while he taught Hattie how to ride a bike.
She never wants it to end.
“Where to next?” she asks as he leads her toward the door.
“Well, I figured you weren’t the type of girl who would be content with sitting in the dark for two hours while watching a film that may or may not be awful.”
“You guessed right.” Veda frowns when he hails a taxi, his hand tight around hers. “You’re not gonna tell me, are you?”
“Absolutely not.”
“You’re lucky I trust you.”
“I’ll do my best not to fuck that up then.”
Veda stares at him for a moment then shakes away the feeling that he is far better than she deserves. Everything he’s told her has been pleasant, wonderful. Even the strained relationship with his brother pales in comparison to her own familial ties. She doesn’t tell him that, though. It isn’t a competition, and she would hate to ruin the atmosphere of the evening. She would take the win in a landslide, anyway.
Niall helps her from the backseat, his hand solid and strong and not releasing her even after she’s on her feet. His lips brush against her cheek, and Veda ducks her head to hide her smile as they step away from the cab so it can drive off. She squeezes his hand then turns toward their destination. She pauses, blinks at the dark blue building and bright yellow letters.
“IKEA?”
Niall shrugs and shifts his weight. The lot lights wash his eyes an icy blue, but there’s so much warmth there. “Has a date ever done this with you?”
“No, I can say with absolute certainty that this is incredibly unique.” She bites her bottom lip at how uncomfortable he looks, as if he’s afraid he has messed this up. She sighs, touching his cheek with her free hand. “You were right. A movie would have been cliche, and I am so not dressed for anything requiring more than walking. Niall, this is perfect.”
His gaze drops to her lips, but he doesn’t kiss her like she desperately hopes he will. Wants him to. Instead, he smiles and loops his arm with hers. She waits to pout until he’s not looking at her. Why won’t he just kiss her already? He has had ample opportunity, and she’s practically begging for it by this point. After all, it was only a month ago that she kissed him. It’s his turn now.
He suggests a game as they walk through the aisles, pointedly following the arrows on the floor unlike the other people. The rules are simple, he says: Find the most ridiculous items on the shelves to decorate a home with, and whoever has the weirdest collection wins.
“What’s the prize?” she asks even as she adds a tray printed with ugly Santas to her list.
“If I win, I… hm. I get another date with you.”
“And if I win?”
“Another date with me.”
Veda giggles, presses her face into the side of his arm. “So either way, we both win?”
“Exactly.”
She tugs on his arm after a moment, and he follows obediently to the mini-home setup. His face scrunches up once inside, his eyes darting around the small space. Veda understands his distaste for the tiny home - the idea of leaving less of an imprint on the environment is nice, but she needs more room to move.
This, though, seems more like -
“Are you claustrophobic?”
“I am,” he admits with a self-deprecating chuckle. Nervous. Anxious.
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t be. How could you have known?”
She immediately steps out of the display, pulling him with her, and Niall draws in a deep breath once they’re back in the aisle. He squeezes her hand gently. Forgiveness. With an apologetic smile, she gestures for him to lead the way.
The kids’ section instantly catches her attention. Not the bedding or furniture, but the toys. She never really had playthings as a child, since Olivia wasn’t much of a mother, so Veda, without shame, checks out the stock of every store she steps foot into. Granddad started her plush animal collection, and Veda adds to it every chance she gets.
Niall doesn’t judge her for her excitement over the stuffed dogs and teddy bears and penguins. In fact, he even moves away to look in other bins, holding up various creatures for her scrutiny. She falls a little more for him because of it. For once, she feels like she doesn’t have to hide a part of her.
That she can show everything she is, and he won’t think less of her.
“Veda! Oh, my god, come here.”
Veda turns away from the pandas and makes her way through the cramped aisle to his side. Her eyes widen, and she gasps at what he’s found. “Holy hell, they’re amazing! They’re bigger than DB!”
“It’s ridiculous.” He pauses, resting his hand on her back, and she meets his eye. “Want one?”
“No, it’s okay. I don’t need it.”
He frowns as his fingers catch her chin, hold her head still so she can’t look away. “Ve-Veda, I didn’t ask if you needed it. I asked if you wanted it. Yes or no, no thinking allowed.”
And what else can she say except “Yes”?
His smile lights up his entire face, and he lets her go to dig through the bin. She raises a brow when he comes back victorious with a plushie in his hands. He lifts a shoulder jerkily, explains that the ones on the bottom haven’t been touched by gross hands nearly as often as the ones on top.
Veda accepts the reasoning - it’s logical, after all - and reaches for the shark. He takes her purse so she can clutch the stuffed animal to her chest. She knows her grin is too wide, too childlike, but the heat beneath her ribs overwhelms any potential embarrassment.
No guy has ever offered to buy her a stuffed animal, let alone a three-foot shark.
Once he’s paid for the blåhaj, as the tag proclaims, and a new leash for David Barkie, Veda follows Niall back out to the car park. He wraps his arm around her shoulder, kissing her temple, and they walk in silence toward the nearest subway stop. A heady thrumming kicks up in her veins, singing praises of how wonderful the night has been.
How amazing Niall is, even before he’s given her one of the best dates she’ll ever remember.
Her mind suddenly stutters to a halt as they stand together on the subway, scarcely an inch between them though there’s no need. They’re the only ones on within a two-seat radius. She groans as her head drops back. He stares at her with a question in his eyes. Veda sighs and wonders how to explain what she’s thinking. What comes out is:
“This date wasn’t terrible.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” he asks, the words slow and purposeful. Like he doesn’t want to offend her or be offended himself.
“Yes and no.” She exhales sharply and decides to go all-in. “Okay, so you remember how we met because of my friend Ellie’s wedding? Well, I was the maid of honour, and I gave a speech about Chris and Ellie’s first date.”
“I’m guessing it was terrible?”
“The worst. She called me after, and I swear, I almost fell asleep as she told me because it was just… so boring. There was no chemistry! But she went out with him again, and now they’re all gross and in love and married. So I said I wanted a date like that. Something terrible that lead to an amazing love like that.”
Niall nods slowly, and Veda leans into him when the car sways, coming to a stop. “Well, I suppose this could be our second date, because me coming over after your granddad passed was a terrible time for you.”
“Nah, it’s okay,” Veda laughs, the sound watery but bright. “I think I’ll take the perfect first date considering how long it took to finally get to it.”
Niall steps out onto the platform first, reaching back for her hand. His brows are drawn together, a slight downturn to his lips, and Veda wonders what he could be thinking about. What could have made him so serious so quickly? When he strokes his chin, she realises he’s putting her on.
“The perfect first date?”
She rolls her eyes but plays along. “Yep. Almost guaranteed you’ll get a kiss at the end of the night.”
“Anything I can do to make it happen?” he asks, pulling her closer when a group of men walk past. Not even nine-thirty and they’re already drunk. One of them whistles under his breath, his gaze heavy on Veda’s exposed skin, and Niall hurries her along.
“Keep being you, I suppose.”
Nonna stands in her doorway, watches as Niall and Veda approach, but she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t even wave. Veda appreciates that, though she would like a bit more privacy as she comes to a stop at the top of her stoop.
Setting the shark down at her feet, Veda stares up at Niall through the glow of the porch light, at the soft curve to his lips and the way his eyes shine. She steps further into his space and thanks the inventor of heels as she kisses Niall’s smile away. His hands settle gently on her hips, warm even through the fabric of her dress, and she wraps her arms around his neck to bring him closer. His heartbeat is rapid against her, or maybe it’s hers that is fluttering so quickly beneath her ribs.
Nearly every single neighbour is peering through their windows when Veda finally pulls back, and she huffs out a quiet laugh. “And here I thought living in a small town would be the only way to get this kinda nosiness.”
“They worry about you,” he whispers, shrugging, and Veda kisses him again. God, she is falling too hard for him, and she doesn’t want to stop.
“Thank you for tonight. I really enjoyed it.”
Niall is the one who kisses her this time. One hand cups her cheek, and she chases the taste of wine and chocolate on his tongue. Heat flares up in her belly as his fingers press firmly into her skin. She wants more than this slice of perfection.
She wants him, any way she can have him.
The invitation is on the tip of her tongue, the plea for him to stay the night, for the night to never end. But then he’s pulling away, putting a sliver of distance between them, and her body goes cold without him. He whispers a goodnight, his lips brushing hers once more, then makes his way down the stairs.
Veda watches him walk away and wishes she’d asked him to stay. Her mind catalogues all the things she’s going to tell Granddad about tonight, about how amazing and unique and unexpected it was, before -
Right.
She can’t tell him anything. Tears burn in her eyes at the reminder. Granddad would have loved Niall, and Niall would have loved Granddad. Granddad will never meet Niall. So Veda does the next best thing: She grabs the stuffed shark off the stoop, carries it inside, and sets off to find Hattie.
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littlemissagrafina · 4 years
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#20 You don't seem like yourself tonight - For a IronDad prompt :)
So uhhh... this one came out a LOT sadder than I was expecting and I'm entirely unsure if it's even coherent.
Just a quick TRIGGER WARNING: this one does deal with depression, dissociation, and self harm. Please be careful lovelies
Read on AO3
~
Peter felt weird, off kilter. He simultaneously felt like he was overwhelmingly aware of everything around him while still feeling as if he was stuck 5 seconds behind, watching the day go by but still conscious.
It was exhausting, and he didn't even know what had triggered it. Yeah, his anxiety and worries had been a lot higher lately with his school work but he was fine. Right?
He had to be. He couldn't put the weight of his stupid problems on May or his friends. It wasn't fair.
He had to be okay.
-
Peter woke up on Friday and he felt heavy. He felt heavy but it was paired with a disturbing restlessness.
Getting up, he hit the snooze on his alarm and didn't register when it went off again.
He was late getting ready so he skipped breakfast, thinking he could grab something on the way to school. Finally leaving the apartment, Peter got to the subway only to miss his train making him even later than he already was which meant no breakfast. 
It was okay though, Ned and MJ always brought him something in the morning because he had a tendency to run late.
It was fine, everything was fine.
He never noticed the hair tie he had subconsciously slipped over his wrist.
-
School was a blur, the piercing ringing of the bells and the hustle and bustle of students and staff merging together in an agonizing cocktail of noise.
The restlessness that had woken with him was building, swirling up inside of him and simmering just beneath his skin.
It wanted to be set free.
Snap and sting. It tempted him.
No, stop. I'm okay, I'm fine.
I have to be.
-
Peter let his mind drift until all of a sudden he was walking out of the penthouse elevator of the tower to see Tony standing near the doors.
"Hey, Mr. Stark!" He greeted, internally wincing at how flat his voice sounded but hoping that the older man didn't notice.
Preoccupied by his thoughts, Peter didn't see the slight frown that Tony was sporting deepen at the almost cloudy, detached look in Peter's eyes before it disappeared when Peter faced Tony. The billionaire shot his own greeting to the teenager.
"Hey, Pete." Tony said back, a soft smile hiding his concern. "How was your day?"
Peter shrugged in return, sliding his backpack off and walking down the hall to drop it off in his room. "It was okay." He called behind him to Tony. "What's for dinner?" He asked to change the subject.
Noticing the deflection, Tony decided not to push, instead choosing to keep a closer eye on the kid. Happy had sent him a text when he had dropped Peter off saying that there was something wrong with the usually bubbly teen but he didn't know what it was.
"I was thinking either take out or we can dig that lasagne we made the last time you were here out of the freezer. Either way, we have to make a salad for what we get. Strict orders from the boss ladies." Tony answered as he wandered after Peter. "You good with that?"
Peter gave a non-committal hum in answer. "That's good."
Leaning against the doorway to Peter's room, Tony quietly observed the distracted boy.
Peter had abandoned his shoes near the door and was searching his bag for his homework. The hair tie resting almost innocently on his left wrist, skin the slightest bit red, catching Tony's eye, and the man had to stifle the panic that instinctively rose to grip his heart. 
Peter would tell me if he was getting urges again, right? 
The thought was dismissed with a shake of his head. He had to trust Peter, trust that he wouldn't let himself suffer in silence. 
"Any of that urgent?" Tony questioned with a nod at the homework that was steadily being piled next to Peter's bag.
"Nah."
Sighing internally, Tony pushed off the doorway and nodded his head in the general area of the living room. "C'mon, let's go rot our brains with whatever we can find on Netflix that we haven't already watched."
-
Two empty plates and 4 episodes of A Series Of Unfortunate Events later, Tony glanced at Peter for what felt like the millionth time. He had just sat down after grabbing himself another glass of juice, Peter's still full glass sitting on the table.
Somehow the teen looked even more out of it than when he arrived. He was sitting curled into the corner of the couch, eyes on the TV but clearly not focused on what was playing, his head somewhere in the clouds.
Okay, I'm getting you back, kid.
"Peter."
Messy curls tilted slightly towards him.
"You don’t seem like yourself tonight, Roo. What's going on?"
Peter shook his head when he felt himself come back slightly at Tony's question. "I'm fine."
Tony's heart ached. 
Waving a hand for FRIDAY to pause the TV, Tony turned on the couch to face his kid. He lifted a hand and cradled Peter's cheek.
"It's okay, you don't have to be fine all the time. I'm here."
Peter looked at Tony and the man caught a glimpse of the fear, sadness, and confusion swirling in whiskey eyes.
"I'm fine." Peter's voice cracked and against his will, tears started welling up in his eyes.
No, he wanted to stay blank
This was too much, he was feeling too much.
Tony's heart was breaking. It was worse than having the reactor shoved in his chest. His child was in pain and he didn't know what to do.
"Peter, please. I am here . Talk to me, please." He begged and was suddenly cut off.
Snap!
The sound shot icy tendrils deep into Tony's core as Peter suddenly tensed up, his body coiled tight and his breath getting stuck in his chest.
He looked down to where his fingers had hooked back around the hair tie, readying to snap it again.
" No !" He whimpered, tears falling as his head dropped forward. "I didn't want to! I'm okay, I'm fine!"
Peter was startled by calloused hands gently lifting his head and wiping his tears.
"Peter, it's okay. You're not okay and that's alright." Tony's eyes shone with something Peter couldn't name.
A hiccuped sob spilled from the teenager. "But there's nothing wrong! I'm okay!"
"I shouldn't be like this, I should be over it and I shouldn't have snapped it!"
Tony only wiped his tears away again. "There doesn't have to be something wrong for you to feel. emotions don't work that way, kid."
Lifting Peter's chin, he looked him in the eye. "Maybe you shouldn't have snapped the hair tie, but I understand and I'm proud of you. You used it instead of the alternative and that shows how far you've come, bubba."
Peter tried to duck his head. He didn't deserve the love, pride, and forgiveness that was shining in Tony's eyes. "But I was weak." He whimpered.
"You are not, and never have been, weak. You are so strong and brave Peter." Tony said fiercely as he let the boy burrow into his arms. 
Peter didn't know what to say to that. He didn't know how to believe it. 
"I'm sorry." He murmured timidly.
Tony cradled him closer and pressed a kiss to the chocolate curls under his chin. "You have nothing to be sorry for but, it's okay.
"It's okay."
 
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split-n-splice · 4 years
Text
A small fic in which heroes aren't all about fighting villains and a young Shego has qualms with a particular F word.
Find on FFn or Ao3 in chapter form. 6k
“The F Word”
She’d only been a hero for a few short months. Already she’d aided in the arrest of more than a dozen men and women, some – if not most – of which probably needed therapy more than incarceration.
For starters, bird-brained Dr. Robinson had gotten into a turf war involving the defacement of property with a bird-loathing guy who looked like a scarecrow, with his bristly beard and ill-fitting rags. There had been a geeky woman who’d posed a more serious threat by allegedly hacking various electronic systems of city officials and murdering them via electrocution, and even though Team Go had caught her in the act, she’d destroyed the evidence with the press of a button and walked free with the aid of a good lawyer. Likewise, Mr. Richie had the wealth to get out of jail when busted red-handed for trafficking, despite Shego herself testifying to being bribed and touched when left alone to interrogate him. And then there were the occasional costumed losers desperate for a confrontation with local heroes cleaning up the streets. So far, they could all pass as normal people more or less.
At least until she met Gloria Grace.
Shilo sat alone now on the bleachers at school – as a student, not a hero – with a turkey sub sandwich left uneaten on her lap. Two weeks in a row, the sophomore had left campus to take lunch across town, but her big brother had caught on and put his foot down once he’d learned she’d been skipping class too. He’d tracked down one of her connections yesterday, consequently catching Alex smoking and very nearly busting her, but the stoner had gotten off the hook by snitching that Shilo wasn’t taking lunch with her lately. He’d just barely caught Shilo yesterday, and today as well, right as she’d been about to sneak away to go hitch a ride across town. They’d had a little argument, and now she was stuck under his watchful eye as he chowed down on a bench somewhere above her, chatting and laughing loudly with his clique.
Another cherry tomato struck the back of her head, and she turned a deaf ear to Hugo lightly chastising the girl who’d thrown it only to be immediately accused of having a crush on “the freak.” Somehow no one at school had made the connection yet that they were related. With Hugo’s broad build and Shilo still a little on the scrawny side, it was hard to see the family resemblance. Not to mention, only one of them had a sickly complexion other students feared was contagious.
She heard disgusted whispers behind her back, and when Hugo dismissed the girl who’d been all over him until now, Shilo was the one to take the heat for it. The scorned woman dumped her salad over Shilo’s head as she trotted down the bleachers, scoffing, “Freak,” back at her as she left.
“Fuck you too,” Shilo spat back, clenching her fists and planting her rear back down to resist the urge to sock the girl. Civilians were off-limits, she reminded herself, breathing deep and counting to ten before shaking off the lettuce. Her hair was still short, but it tickled down the nape of her neck now and was long enough to cover her burning ears, and she benefited from a clip to hold back her bangs.
A hand brushed her head, and she smacked it away in reflex, turning sharply to shoot a heated glare up at her brother come to wipe salad dressing out of her hair with a wet tissue. He ignored the rebuff and plopped down just above her, continuing to clean it off while she snorted and rested her cheek in her hand, scarcely tolerating it.
“You need to eat,” he said quietly.
“Not hungry.” On cue, the growl of her stomach claimed she was a liar.
Breakfast had been canceled, as Hugo’s beeper had gone off as he’d been reading the morning paper with a front-page blurry photograph of an entity that had been “terrorizing” Go City’s crumbling and underfunded Southside for months. Global Justice was a little late in informing them of the sighting. Their father had taken over breakfast prep from Shilo and wished them luck then, echoed by her young twin brothers. Shego had barely convinced Hego to let it go, just in time to get to school before they were tardy. There would be other chances for him to serve justice on the monster scaring the townsfolk, she’d told him.
“I gotta piss,” Shilo announced suddenly, hopping up. He almost stood to follow but she shot him a scowl and he slumped back.
“I’ll give you five minutes, and then I want you back here.”
Ignoring the allotment and giving him the finger, she took her sub sandwich and left.
A quick clean up in front of the restroom mirror, and she was ready to sneak off – but Hugo knew better than to let her out of his sight. She barely bit back the urge to scream in his face when she exited the lavatory and nearly ran into him.
“Where are you going?” he demanded.
She grimaced at the bell chiming just then. “Um, to class?” she lied.
Hugo stared her down for a moment before uncrossing his arms and stepping aside to let her go with a nod. “No more skipping,” he said sternly.
“Yeah. Whatever.” She looked down to the sandwich she carried, still wrapped up and untouched. “Catch you later.”
Forced to go their separate ways, Shilo seized the opportunity to slip away once and for all. Lately, Hugo had taken to reminding her how dangerous Go City was for a pretty girl to wander alone in. His concern was more bogus than the flattery. She was superhuman now and she could fend for herself now better than ever with the aid of her comet-given gift of alien fire. There was really nothing to worry about. Big brother just didn’t want any of them out alone without backup in fear that someone worse than the average criminal might get a hold of any member of Team Go. Hugo bought into it easily though, convinced danger and threats lurked around every corner.
In any case, the supervising organization had locked a monitoring anklet on her. If she ran into trouble, all she had to do was flare up and Global Justice would be alerted and Hugo’s beeper would go off so he could come save the day. He loved hearing his beeper go off.
Breaking the private school’s stupid dress code, Shilo tied her stiff blue jacket around her waist and sighed in relief as she relaxed back into a hard seat on the bus minutes later. After just a few moments of the bus driver eyeballing her bare legs, she tugged at her skirt and moved to the back. Not that the back was any better when another man turned to look her over and a woman with a small child moved away from her, probably afraid of her hue like so many were when she wasn’t clad in Shego’s uniform.
++X++
Eventually, she’d made it across town, keeping her head low to ignore the variety of stares.
She wasn’t fond of venturing out to the Go City slums alone, but a few residents were familiar enough with her by now to keep their distance, and she hadn’t even once used her glow on them to win a healthy respect.
For months now, Southside had racked up countless reports of a creature prowling the streets after dark. Yesterday “the Southside Freak” had come out in daylight, and a photo had actually been snapped and plastered across local papers. Guilt gnawed at Shilo and she clutched the sub sandwich closer. She’d pickpocketed cash from a punk kid earlier, justifying to herself that the rich snob didn’t need it all that badly. A quick stop at a shady convenience store for a two-liter and big bag of chips, and she was off to find a shady niche beneath a rotting old fishing pier on a shoreline littered with garbage.
It was a tricky trek down with an armful of goods, across jagged boulders coated in places with sharp mussels, but she made it without dropping or squishing anything.
“Hello?” she called out into the dark shadow of the abandoned pier. “Anyone home?” As she crept out of the light, her eyes adjusted.
Something moved then, and if she didn’t know any better, she might have feared it was a leg of the pier collapsing as it bent.
The local known as the Southside Freak crossed the shadows in two long strides, coming to a pause before Shilo. She stood almost eye-level with knobby scabbed knees set into stilt-like legs for a moment before the living urban legend crouched down. Her head still hovered far above Shilo’s.
She tipped her head back to offer a smile and held up the sandwich, chips, and bottle of coke. “I brought you lunch,” she said, steadying her voice.
The gaunt giantess reached out with trembling fingers the length of Shilo’s forearm to delicately take the two-liter. “Thank you,” she mumbled politely, her voice both booming and fragile at the same time, and turned away to awkwardly shuffle further up the shore to a sandy spot she’d cleared of rubble, just out of the water’s reach during high tide.
Shilo followed and sat down beside the giant girl. Well, she wasn’t really a girl. Or maybe she was. Gloria couldn’t remember her age. She couldn’t remember where she’d come from either. One thing was for certain – she didn’t come out of nowhere. Someone as tall as her couldn’t have. It seemed like each day she’d grown another inch. Shilo chalked it up to her imagination.
She’d finally had her first fleeting encounter with Gloria a month ago, but it was hard to say if she’d really been shorter back then. And then, little more than two weeks ago, Team Go had been called out again to investigate a sighting. Shego had unwittingly cornered her beneath the pier, and by the green light of her fire she’d seen the long-limbed figure trembling, wrapped up in sheets stitched together with fishing line that sufficed as a dress. The Southside Freak had quietly and desperately begged Shego not to hurt her, pleading for her to just leave.
So she did. She didn’t even tell her brothers what she’d found.
Of course, she’d come back the next day as Shilo, and she’d brought a token of peace with her. Since then, rain or shine, she’d been skipping school and sneaking off on weekends to bring lunch to the famished Southside Freak whose name, she learned after a full week, was Gloria Grace. At close to twenty feet tall, glorious or graceful weren’t words Shilo would use to describe the gangly giantess. She often suspected the girl had made up the name, but never questioned it aloud. Gloria it was.
Shilo unwrapped the sandwich as Gloria carefully sipped from the bottle. “I couldn’t make it yesterday,” she said, as if the starving girl hadn’t noticed, and added in a mutter, “sorry.” She would have brought more cash than what was necessary for the bus fair and lunch, but Hugo was careful about how much he let her go to school with lest she bring home some gateway drug and risk spoiling the good hero name. As it were, Gloria needed the meal more than she did.
She passed up the sub and opened up the bag for Gloria too without taking a single chip for herself, staving off the hunger pangs.
“So,” she said carefully as the giantess savored each bite. She tore her eyes off the sheet-clad girl, finding an old fishing pole lodged in the rocks a little ways down the shore to watch instead. Most days Gloria swore she caught enough marine life to sustain herself – she certainly smelled like she did – but a girl couldn’t survive on fish alone. The mere thought made Shilo gag a little, but she cleared her throat and ignored the pungent odor permeating the air. “Is today the day?”
Gloria held a tiny chip between two overgrown nails and frowned at her knees. Then she shook her head. “N-no. Not today.”
“You can’t hide forever, GG,” she pressed gently. It was a fact. The girl had certainly become worse at staying discreet, if the increasing number of reports had anything to say about it. She tried not to frown too deeply at the ocean when the giantess scooted away from her. “I know you’re shy, but the sooner you get it over with, the sooner we can…maybe…get you back to normal. Or as close to normal as we can.” Clothes that fit her would be a good place to start. She’d recently tried learning how to sew for GG’s sake, but there wasn’t enough time in the day for it. Not with the burden of Team Go duties anyway.
“I like it here.” She wasn’t a very good liar.
“You were seen yesterday.”
Gloria winced. “Yeah.”
“The weather’s going to get bad this weekend,” Shilo noted, knowing already she was failing to persuade Gloria to come out of hiding. Before the giantess could disregard it too, she added, “And my sweet sixteen coming up. Would be cool to have a friend there.”
The long-limbed mutant nearly dropped the bag of chips. “I-I’ll take a rain check,” she said nervously.
Shilo rocked back, quipping, “You sure? We could talk about boys, paint each other’s nails.” She tried to laugh lightheartedly, knowing full well that bringing a giant girl over to hang out wouldn’t fly. “I’ve got a big brother you might think is cute.” The notion was absurd, but it worked to bring a very human blush out on Gloria’s bony cheeks.
The giant girl fidgeted with her sheet-dress and shook her head. “You wouldn’t want a freak like me crashing your party.”
“Ah, the more the merrier,” Shilo said flippantly. “Come on, GG. What do you say?”
Gloria Grace looked down to her with apprehension. “What do you mean?”
“Hm?”
“The more the merrier,” Gloria echoed curiously. “You’re not a freak.”
Shilo spared a glance up at the giantess finishing off the sub sandwich in two bites. She wanted to tell the giant girl that she wasn’t a freak either, but that was a far stretch from the truth. Gloria was a lot of things – scared, scrappy, exceptionally tall – but she wasn’t stupid. The giant girl knew she was unusual to terrifying degree, and it daunted even Shilo.
She stood then, brushing off the sand. “I gotta get going.”
“Wait!” The desperation in the giant girl’s voice was pitiful. “You’ll come back tomorrow, won’t you?”
Biting her lip and hugging herself, she could do little more than shrug in reply. “No promises – but I’ll try. Bye!” She spun then and began picking her way across the boulders back up to the road. One small glance over her shoulder, and she saw the pale figure and head of dirty brown curls peeking out from under the bridge.
“Goodbye, Shilo,” called GG after her.
Shilo gave a small wave and was gone, barely catching a northbound bus in time.
As she flopped down in the back, watching the last glimpse of ocean slide away, she mulled over Gloria Grace’s words. “You’re not a freak,” she repeated to herself. It felt like a lie. Her chest constricted and she swallowed hard. Even if the giantess was undoubtedly the more peculiar of them on the surface, they were both misfits. Gloria didn’t have to know that though. Shilo almost hoped she’d never make the connection. Someone who didn’t view her as freakish was nice in a way, even if it meant hiding a part of herself.
++X++
She made it back to school in time for sixth period, but she’d barely shrugged on her dirtied jacket to conform to dress code when Hugo came sprinting up the hall to cut her off. She knew she’d been caught the instant she saw him bowling towards her.
“There you are!” he gasped. He didn’t pause to shoot the breeze – merely latched onto her arm with a grip like a tourniquet and began hauling her away. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
Her shoulders would have slumped if she was given a chance, but instead she was forced to stumble after him. “What is it this time?” she groaned, exasperated. She could take a good guess. He wouldn’t be in such a hurry for anything else.
If there was any question about it before, the glance Hugo shot her told her all she needed to know. He couldn’t openly discuss the details in a hall full of ears – not outside of uniform anyway. So he pulled her along quickly as he could without slinging her over his shoulder to pick up the pace.
Once she’d claimed shotgun of his coppery old Sloth, Hugo barely waited for her to buckle up before flooring it out of the parking lot. Moments later, they were pulled up behind the junior high, tween brother Milo popping up out of his designated hiding place in the bushes to dive into the back seat.
“Sweet!” he practically shouted, voice cracking in Shilo’s ear. He leaned between the seats, smelling strongly of sugary donuts he must have conned out of a classmate, and Shilo had to hold her breath to ignore her hunger pangs. “What is it this time? Someone threatening the ballpark again?”
“No,” said Hugo, making a beeline for the nearest Global Justice hideout where Betty Director herself would be waiting for them. “The Southside Freak was just spotted.”
Sitting on her hands, Shilo sank in her seat and scowled out the window. She should have guessed they were being sicced on GG again. They were called on her no less than twice a week. So far, Shego had been able to steer her teammates clear of the giant girl, who was still adamant on keeping her low profile to avoid confrontation she was so sure she’d be faced with should Team Go or anyone else catch her.
The way Hugo’s knuckles paled as he gripped the wheel, she couldn’t say a confrontation wouldn’t escalate and blow up. “We’ll catch the monster this time,” he swore. “And then the people there can rest easy at night.”
“I think the people from Southside have a lot worse to worry about than a walking lamppost,” Shilo grumbled.
Her big brother flicked an unhappy frown her way. “We should have been on this ten minutes ago,” he chastised. “Where were you?”
“I bet you a fiver she was smoking again,” Milo said and leaned over to take a whiff. “Hego, you got a breathalyzer on you?”
Shilo shoved her little brother’s face away. “Breathalyzers don’t work that way, idiot.”
“Quit fooling around,” said Hugo. “We’ve got to make this quick if we want to catch it.”
It. Shilo rolled her eyes.
Sooner than she would have liked, she was zipped and buckled up in the snug form-fitting attire of Shego, the second uniform she’d worn today.
The head honcho of Global Justice wished them luck, wearing a smirk for Mego and giving Hego an approving nod. Suspicious eyes cast to Shego however, and she was glad to escape them, following her brothers back out of the hidden conference room and into the alley to get back in the car – only it wasn’t the car they’d arrived in. Global Justice worked in mysterious ways and had the means to do mysterious things – like replace the Sloth with a white Spider customized with vibrant bolts of color coinciding with each member of Team Go. Shego turned a blind eye to the two little red stripes in the paint job.
The sportscar was a trap – and not just a deathtrap – but the seats were comfortable and Shego knew for a fact that the radio wasn’t as static-ridden as the ones in the old Sloth or family van – not that she ever got to enjoy it. The pricy convertible wasn’t for pleasure. It was armed to the teeth and the dash was equipped with advanced technology for tracking, spying, and communications that Team Go still hadn’t fully learned to operate. Even without the rocket boosters mounted to the back, the Go Kart was capable of reaching 300 miles per hour – just in case they were ever in a hurry.
It was excessive and nothing more than a flashy bribe to tempt them with the gadgets and luxuries they could have if they gave up their family life to play GJ’s game indefinitely. Their family was just shy of dysfunctional enough not to buy into it just yet, even if Hugo – Hego – reveled in playing the game at any given opportunity, convinced he was duty-bound.
Shego was just tying on her domino mask as they sped out of the ally, feeling like a clown and hating that people pointing and gawking was becoming an everyday occurrence as they sped across town. She rehearsed in her head the protocol she’d set in place for when they reached Southside. She’d tell Hego to look over there, while she’d take Mego and look elsewhere, steering them clear of the pier where the resident cryptid took shelter.
That plan was blown out of the water when Hugo pulled abruptly to the shoulder, the pier in question in sight. “Around here,” he announced. “Spread out.”
“Mego, you’re with me,” Shego said anyway, and made a grab for her little lavender brother.
He dodged her, shrinking to duck before bouncing back. “No way!” he said. “I’m going to find it first this time!”
Hego shot him a smile over his shoulder as he strode off toward the defunct pier. “You call for us when you do,” he said, as if he really had faith in his little brother. After a month of tracking the mysterious creature supposedly terrorizing the neighborhood, honing in on her location with each sweep, Shego could tell he just wanted the goose chase to be over with once and for all, even if it meant Mego got credit for it.
She knew from experience that Hego was unmovable once he got in the mindset. The best she could hope for was that the giant girl had taken shelter in an alley or someone’s garage somewhere as she dashed after him.
He opened his mouth to tell her off but decided it was a lost cause, and cracked his knuckles instead, no doubt ready and eager to punch something. He really liked getting to show off like that lately. “The Southside Freak was spotted around here,” he stated with a nod toward the dilapidated pier, and Shego grimaced once more at what Gloria Grace had been dubbed. It was an official label of the supposed culprit terrorizing the neighborhood, filed away with many others like it in GJ’s records.
“What if she’s not a freak?” Shego blurted suddenly, jumping out ahead of Hego, hands up to stop him.
“Sister, you’ve seen the photos,” he reminded. “This thing defines freakish.” It was a hard point to argue.
She couldn’t smother her nervous chuckle. “But what if it’s all just a big hoax?” she suggested, not for the first time.
Hego was ready to brush her aside, but slammed a fist into his palm as if to drive his point. “Then we’ll reveal the culprit behind it and call it a day.”
“It could just be a prank—”
“When it comes to destroying private and public property, it’s no longer a prank,” Hego argued.
Shego opened her mouth again but before she could even think of anything to add, the frenzied barking of a dog followed by a car alarm and a crash interrupted. She turned and the last person she wanted to see came tumbling out of a street ahead, scrambling in her mad dash for the pier.
++X++
While Shego stood rooted in place, her brothers sprinted past her, their superpowers activated and ready for a fight. Gloria Grace’s bewildered eyes locked on hers, if only for a split second. Next Shego felt her legs begin to move just as the Southside Freak backpedaled to run the other way.
 “Don’t let it escape!” Hego bellowed, and he grabbed hold of Mego, who was happy to bounce into his hands to be hefted up and thrown like a missile. Barely hitting the mark, the lavender boy landed on the giant’s back and clung to her sheet-dress like a baby monkey.
Shego raced past her big brother, giving him a shove of annoyance that didn’t even faze him.
“Halt! In the name of justice!” Hego shouted at the giant, as if any perpetrator was ever that compliant. Shego might have rolled her eyes at the rehearsed line if she weren’t preoccupied, and she ignored the order he barked after her. “Shego! Trip it!”
Gloria Grace covered ground fast with her long legs, seemingly oblivious to Mego squealing for her to stop as he held on like a tiny purple backpack. Shego pushed herself harder to catch up, desperately hoping with every beat of her pounding heart that the girl wouldn’t bump into a deadly power line by accident as she ducked beneath the cables every few paces.
“Wait!” Shego screamed, but the gentle giant must not have heard her. She barely heard herself.
She heard the engine of the Go Kart revving up behind her though, and barely had the chance to flick a sidelong glance before the sportscar zoomed ahead of her, only to pause just long enough for Shego to hop in. Hego stomped on the gas a little too eagerly, lurching them forward, and she caught his eyes popping wide in alarm. He’d only been driving for a few months and it was much too soon for him to be behind the wheel of such a vehicle.
Ahead, Gloria had taken a turn inland and was bounding through traffic, many vehicles swerving out of her way and at least one rear-ending another. The compact Go Kart barely zipped through in her wake.
Hego’s hand hovered over the dash and the numerous buttons and knobs there. “Which one of these deploys the—?”
“You are not launching anything at her!” Shego snapped. She was braced in an awkward crouch in her seat, holding on tight to the door and headrest, ready to jump on Gloria or wave her down – or something—
“I’m not going to hurt it!”
“You guys!” shrieked Mego as he was jostled upon the giant’s back. “Any time now!”
“Get up alongside her,” Shego ordered, and Hego threw her a questioning look. She scowled back. “Do it!”
His apprehension was fleeting, but he must have trusted her to have a plan because he did as she requested.
Ignoring her brother’s worry, Shego stood as straight as she dared in the speeding Go Kart now zooming along beside the panicked giant’s shins. “GG!” she shouted around cupped hands. “GLORIA!”
Wide panicked eyes snapped down to her, and Shego scarcely had the chance to hope it was recognition she saw in them. Gloria took more two gigantic steps and reeled, curly brown locks bouncing around her gaunt face as she came to a sudden stop uncomfortably close to the next set of power lines across her path.
Hego’s fingers hooked her belt then, pulling Shego back down into her seat to keep her from flying out as he hit the brakes and whipped around in front of the giant collapsing back on her rear. “That thing is a woman?” he blurted in realization now that he finally had the chance to really observe it.
Shego threw a worried glance back and was relieved he wasn’t springing into action as he’d been so ready to before he’d thought to fetch the Go Kart. Even someone as dense as Hego could read a room, though his aura all but shimmered in pops of blue around him in anticipation for a fight.
Jumping out of the car, Shego held her hands up in peace, stopping in her tracks when the giant girl began shuffling back at her approach. Car horns and alarms blared and civilians were still screaming as they scattered, but she tried not to let the commotion bother her as she called up, “We’re here to help you.” It was a lie. The assignment wasn’t to help the perpetrator – it was to take down and capture an unidentified creature. Plans had a funny way of changing though. She could only hope Betty would be understanding.
“Sh-Shi—?”
“Shego,” she corrected before her name could leave the giant girl’s lips.
“You’re one of them?” cried the giant, her distress resonating off the surrounding buildings towering above even her.
“It’s okay, Gloria,” Shego swore, hands up and unlit. She had a hunch Gloria was terrified of Team Go’s glow – especially hers, which presented itself as something too similar to fire. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
Huge hazel eyes were brimmed with tears and she looked from Shego to Hego approaching slowly to stand just behind her. She didn’t look terribly convinced, but seconds passed without one of Team Go’s signature fights breaking out.
“Someone get me down!” howled Mego suddenly, his head peeking up over Gloria’s shoulder.
He was almost shaken off with her startled gasp, and GG dented a car hood as she leaned aside to gawp at the boy clinging to her. It was a wonder she didn’t brush him off like a bug in reflex.
“Oh, just jump, Mi— Mego,” Shego snapped at him. It wasn’t that far. He’d be fine.
Before he could work up the courage leap down, Gloria reached over and, as gentle a giant as ever, plucked him off her shoulder. Mego didn’t complain about the ride in a palm the size of a chair seat, but he hopped off before she could set him down herself and stumbled unsteadily toward his teammates.
Hego was quick to give him a congratulatory smack on the back that nearly knocked him to the pavement. “Way to go, champ!” he praised. “Good job holding on. You could take up professional bull riding.”
A woozy groan answered Team Go's posterboy, and then Mego was doubling over, upchucking his lunch. Which had been colorful, to say the least. “Dude,” Mego whimpered, tears streaming past his domino mask and down his cheeks, “I’m never eating donuts with sprinkles ever again.”
Shego cringed and tore her eyes away, stepping back quickly before the mess could get on her boots. She looked up to Gloria, the giant girl still stunned but clutching herself.
A hand rested on Shego’s shoulder and she flinched, looking up at her big brother who was looking down gravely at her. “You know the Southside Freak?” he asked.
She swallowed and nodded in reply.
++X++
So she got in a bit of hot water that day.
It didn’t end with a distraught lecture about a whole slew of things from Hego once they were in private or a slap on the wrist from Betty for withholding information. The penalty wasn’t too severe, but it was still a little more than a simple grounding. She had makeup work to do for skipping classes, she was essentially put back under house arrest, and the supervising organization swore to keep a closer eye on her for the foreseeable future until she proved herself trustworthy again, which meant hanging out with particular acquaintances at school was no longer an option to fill the social void.
She’d anticipated the punishment and was ready to accept it, even keeping her aggravation to herself when the morning after the Southside Freak was – peacefully – taken into custody, the newspapers began selling stories of Go City finally rid of another terror, all thanks to Team Go. Of course photographs had been snapped before a semi-truck had arrived to take the scared woman away to one of Global Justice’s outposts.
Shego had felt like she was lying through her teeth when she promised the research center would help her sort out her little mutation crisis.
Otherwise, the case of the Southside Freak was put behind her. There were bigger fish to fry and a new villain of the week to contend with. She had enough on her plate juggling family, school, and hero life to dwell on closed cases she was officially no longer involved in.
Some weeks later, like a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, relief washed over her to discover big brother had kept their end of the deal. She almost didn’t recognize the brunette towering over the front door when she answered it. The giant girl was still inhumanly tall, casual jeans and tee custom tailored, but she was much more proportionate now, even if she still had to stoop to fit under the porch roof.
Gloria Grace was a stage name as it turned out, as she was a born and raised performer. She was a circus freak by definition and she was happy with her hand in life. She’d been seventeen and on tour with her folks, who were exceptionally tall themselves though they no longer held a candle to her, when Lady Fate came to Go City last April. Gloria never returned home to her trailer that night. Whatever had happened to her during her strange year away living on the outskirts of Go City, Global Justice’s team of clever scientists had been able to treat, gradually reversing the effects.
Her memory was still sketchy, GG explained as she sat on the front porch with Shilo to sip cola, but she still knew how to do what she did best – and that was be a freak. She smiled as she said so, and gave Shilo a handful of tickets for the traveling circus that had come to Go City. Shilo was apprehensive, but the show was for one night and one night only, so she took them and smiled back and promised to see her there.
She almost didn’t go.
She was glad she did.
It took some degree of begging before her pops let up on the curfew restriction and agreed to an outing for the sake of overdue quality time with the family. Surrounded by them on all sides, either popcorn or the twerps in her lap, Shilo waited anxiously for the giant girl’s debut that night, beating back the fear of the audience gasping in horror.
She was nervous for nothing. Despite first impressions, Gloria Grace the Giant Girl lived up to her title. The crowd was surprised – but in a remarkably good way that put her worries to rest. Oohs and ahhs were a much better sound than the screams of terror Gloria had been met with time and time again over the past year.
Gloria fit in among her own family of misfits, and her extraordinary condition was a more than welcomed sight. Shilo watched as the giant girl in the billowing skirt and vibrant sequins fluffy frills preformed her dance routine with a family larger than life and assisted in the performances of others. Throughout the whole evening, the giant girl wore a smile. It wasn’t just for show, either.
When all was said and done, Shilo slipped away from behind the circus tent, waving a tentative goodbye to the exuberant young lady who was ecstatic to be reunited and back bigger and better than ever, though she had joked about standing to lose a few inches, as if it would be as easy as diet and exercise.
The last she saw of GG was through the rear window of the family van, catching a final glimpse of her happily signing autographs and posing for photos.
Clearly some people – mutant or otherwise – took genuine pride in being a freak.
As Shilo sat on the edge of her bed that night, studying the radium-green plasma bubbling from her hands, she couldn’t help wondering if being a freak was for her.
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