#some forks are just Wrong you gotta figure out the right ones

[thebluestbluewords]

Dis-like-Dysentery

I have a lot of very specific headcanons about Auradon Prep, and one of them is the fact that Jay is both a Smart Guy, and also chronically incapable of turning in assignments on time. For. Reasons.

this might be about one of those reasons.

+

Carlos looks up from his plate as Jay wanders over. “Dude, where were you? We started eating without you.” 

“Talking to a teacher. I submitted an assignment wrong, or something.” 

Carlos nods. He’s got a fork dangling from one hand, and there’s a leaf stuck in his hair. Sunlit from behind, Jay’s pretty sure that he’s the prettiest boy on this side of the barrier. “Oh, man. Was it Demorra? She’s super strict about the rules, especially for the online stuff. I could’ve helped you figure it out bro, you don’t have to get through her bureaucratic shit on your own.” 

Jay sets his tray down on the opposite side of the table. “Nah. It was Williams.” 

Carlos frowns. “The international lit teacher? Really?” 

They’ve been reading through Jay’s lit assignments together. Auradon expects them to type up all of their homework, so he’s been getting by with the hacked dictation program on his laptop and locking himself in the bathroom to read his essays out loud into the program with the minimum of background noise. 

There’s a peer writing tutor who does proofreading two nights a week for free, but Jay’s not gonna take his shitty essays in to her when he’s pretty sure he’ll just get laughed right back out of the student study room for the giant default font Carlos set on his computer. 

It doesn’t exactly make reading his own assignments easier, but it doesn’t make it worse either, so they’re calling it functional for now. Auradon Prep is all about “helping students embrace their unique academic talents”, so Carlos and Evie are both being pulled for more advanced classes, which is great for them, and terrible for Jay’s essays because it’s seriously starting to cut into their free time. 

That, and the trouble they’ve been getting up to after hours. 

The assistant gym teacher still hasn’t figured out who to blame for French braiding all the climbing ropes together. 

“She couldn’t read my handwriting.” 

“Fuck.” 

That’s about the shape of it. Handwritten assignments are few and far between, but Jay can’t bullshit his way through all of them. “Haha, yeah.” 

Carlos thunks his head down onto the table. “Ugh. Fuck. I can make you a handwriting font on the computer, but that’ll make in-class assignments worse if you can’t keep it up.” 

“Yup.” 

He sits up. There’s a dent on his forehead from pressing it into the table. “Eat.” 

“Not hungry,” Jay says as cheerfully as he can manage. It’s not gonna fool Carlos, but he’s not gonna show weakness in front of the royal rabble. “Anyway, we’re not going to the honor board. She’s willing to settle it with some sorta evaluation. Have you heard of dyslexia before?” 

Carlos blinks. “Dyslexia? No. I mean. It’s gotta be dis from like, disinterested, disintegrating, some sort of anti? Or else it’s dys from like, dysentery. Some sort of illness, maybe. Lex has gotta be from lexicon, lexicography. Something to do with either anti-words or a words illness? Does she think you’re sick of words?” 

Jay shrugs. “She said it’s why I’m bad at reading. Wants me to do an assessment so she can know what’s going on.” 

Carlos already has his phone out. He’s typing with one hand, the other one curled around his plate in a defensive hunch that’s almost casual. “Huh. How’s that going for her so far?” 

Jay snorts. “Fab. Nah, she didn’t do it yet. It’s a whole special test that she’s gotta send me down to the psych for.” 

“Can you reject it?” 

“If I wanna meet with the honor board and explain why I apparently have great handwriting, but only when they can’t see me do the assignments.” 

“Fuck.” 

“Yeah. At least she was cool about it.” 

Carlos groans. “Your handwriting sucks, dude. You’re not sick of writing, you’re just— your handwriting sucks.” 

“Yeah, and my fucking reading comprehension. I—“ Jay cuts himself off abruptly as the shadow of more people falls across their lunch table. “Hey, guys.” 

Mal sets her lunch tray down on Jay’s left side, leaving Ben the spot on his right. Evie’s not eating with them today. They have other friends in theory, but between Doug’s science club buddies and Carlos’s general disinterest in socializing with other humans, they didn’t bother picking a table large enough for anyone else.  

“Sorry,” Ben apologizes, even as he’s nudging his shoulder against Jay’s. It’s nice not being the only tall one sometimes. “I couldn’t help overhearing.” 

Jay leans back into the contact. “We were talking out loud, dude. It happens. You got any hot tips for the stupid assessment I’ve gotta do later?” 

“Have you tried being better?” Mal suggests. “I find that cheating works great. I could find you a spell to let one of us borrow your hands for a few hours, and so long as you can tell us what you want to write, we can control the muscles and get better handwriting than your usual chicken scratch special.” 

“Hey.”

“Would that work if you can’t see the paper?” Ben asks curiously. 

Mal frowns. “No. Not unless I modify the spell to possess your eyes too.” 

Jay represses a shudder. “Thanks, but no thanks, M. I like my eyes in one piece.” 

Carlos is scrolling rapidly on his phone, hanging half-over the table in an attempt to get closer to the three of them. “Dude, dyslexia is a brain thing that affects how you process visual input of words— aw, shit.” 

Bad. That’s the bad-news tone. Jay’s heart drops traitorously into his stomach, which suddenly isn’t feeling the tater tots on his lunch tray. “What?” 

Carlos shakes his head. “Nothing too bad. Just, I think Williams is right. You’ve said you’re shit at reading fast cause the words all look the same, right? Like, you can’t scan to identify them, you’ve gotta sound each one out.” 

Jay smashes a tater tot with the side of his fork. The destruction doesn’t make his gut feel any better. It’s not that he’s mad, it’s just— he doesn’t want to do this. Analyzing his brain sucks. He did the whole week of required therapy that the student disciplinary council required after the stuff with Mal’s mom, and he’s so fucking done with Auradon grown-ups pretending to understand why his head’s fucked up. “Yeah, so?” 

Carlos waves the phone at him. “So that’s what this is. You’ve got a brain disorder.” 

“We can fix it, right?” 

He wiggles a hand back and forth. “Ehh. Kinda. There’s techniques to make it easier, but it’s sorta like— your brain is wired for AC power input, and words are DC. It’s a misalignment. We can make an adaptor, but we can’t rip out your brain wiring.” 

“I could,” Mal offers. “I love doing illegal magic.”

[milogreer]

sneak peeks for shaw pack scaredy cats, a fic about the shaw pack as teenagers where the focus is (supposed to be) milo and tank torturing themselves and each other with horror movies :) takes place around 2009 when they're about 16/in 11th grade

Milo and Tank are hardly three feet out the door when Asher barrels out after them, squeezing his way between two freshmen and nearly taking one of them out with his backpack as he goes. He offers them an embarrassed apology, brightening up when he whirls back around to his pack members.

“I’m glad I caught you guys. Guess what?”

“What?” they ask in unison. Tank sounds far less interested than Milo, not that it’s a high bar - it’s surprising that they even answered Asher at all.

“I talked David into going to see Saw VI with me next weekend.”

“What?” Just Milo this time, incredulous. “That gore-fest? How the hell’d you manage that?”

“Hey, the Saw franchise is more than blood and guts! It’s psychological horror, and the plot is, you know, it’s intricate-”

Tank, who’s turned a little green at this point, says bluntly, “It’s gross.”

And Asher can’t really argue with that. Especially considering the gore is mostly why he watches them, contrasting David’s preference for plot-driven movies.

“So, I can assume you don’t wanna go with us to see it?”

“No way,” Tank says firmly, nose scrunching up in disgust, at the same time Milo scoffs, “In your dreams!”

Asher lets out a rather pitiful whine, his shoulders dropping and head lolling to the side. “Come on, you guys never wanna go to the movies. You’re so boring.”

The door opens to reveal Gabriel, and Tank can feel the phantom way their wolf ears flatten against their head. They blink up at him with wide, surprised eyes before quickly looking away, clearing their throat nervously.

“Afternoon, Mr. Shaw.”

To be the Alpha, Gabe really isn’t an intimidating man. Tall, broad, and grizzled, sure - but he’s also standing before them in a faded old apron and holding a sauce-covered pasta fork. So, not exactly the scariest guy around, but Tank’s only been part of the pack for two years. Despite making friends with a handful of the other kids, some of the adults still watch them warily. It makes Tank nervous. The entire pack shuts their mouths whenever Gabe speaks; with authority like that, one wrong move could send them and their parents back to Washington.

“Hey, kiddo. What brings you by?”

“I, uh-,” They shift their weight from one foot to the other. "I told David I was coming over to get a movie. I figured he told you.” They falter for a second before awkwardly adding, “Sorry,” almost as a question rather than a statement.

Gabe waves his pasta fork dismissively. “No problem. He’s got this project he’s been working on for school, he’s been locked up all afternoon.” He steps backwards into the house, opening up the doorway, and gestures for them to come in. “You know the way.”

Tank hums affirmatively, head down as they skirt past Gabe into the house, only remembering their manners after they’ve made it halfway down the hall.

“Thank you.”

“Good luck,” Gabe calls jokingly after them as he disappears into the kitchen.

“Do you wanna stay for dinner, Tank?”

No fuckin’ way. They open their mouth to decline as politely as possible, but David cuts in before they can.

“Yeah.” He pins them with a look that effectively quiets any argument they would’ve tried to make. They think he’s a lot like Gabriel that way, sharing that authoritative spirit that demands to be listened to. “We’ve still gotta pick a movie, but we can do it after, right?”

Keeping their expression neutral, they say, “Sure, we can do that.” They chance a look at Gabe, that same out-of-character deference shining through. “If that’s okay?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.” He has a warm smile, entirely different from what Tank’s used to at home. It somehow serves to both put them at ease and make them uncomfortable. “The more the merrier. It’ll be another five minutes max.”

“Cool. Thanks, Dad.”

The second the door closes, Tank picks up the nearest object - a baseball - and chucks it at David, who catches it with ease. “You suck.”

He rolls his eyes. “Whatever. I can basically hear your stomach growling.” He tosses the baseball back at them. “And this way, you don’t have a choice but to spend time with Gabe the dad instead of Gabe the Alpha.”

“You’re crazy. If anything, Tank likes you the least."

“Aw, c’mon, we’re best buds!” Asher slings an arm around Tank, dragging them in close. “Isn’t that right, T?”

If looks could kill, the side-eye/scowl combination Tank hits Asher with would’ve dropped him like a sack of potatoes. They tamp down the urge to shove him off of them; they’ve been trying to get better about putting hands on people.

“Get. Off.”

Asher complies without complaint, his hands in the air and the most shit-eating grin on his face even as Tank bares their teeth at him.

“See?” He winks at Milo. “Besties.”

“Whatever. All I'm saying is, I don’t care if you’re dying - If I catch you sniffin’ around my house this weekend during this movie you won’t have to worry about Dee’s test because I’ll beat your ass into next week.”

Asher perks up, eyes sparkling. “Ooh-”

“That is not a promise, you freak,” Milo cuts in with a finger pointed threateningly at Asher. “Don’t you got a class to go to?”

[forthedancingandthethriving]

Tulip has to stop herself from outwardly cringing as she refuses to make any eye contact with the people at the table. To her left, sits Archie. To her right, sits her mother.

She ignores how her brother glances at her, trying to get her attention. She ignores how he gently kicks her ankle, trying to get her to at least say something to him. She ignores the guilt in his eyes and the way his lips quiver a bit as she ignores everyone and everything.

Tulip just focuses on how betrayed she feels, how betrayed she feels that her brother would side with their parents and trick her to come here.

She glances up, seeing how her parents talk easily with the five Ministers.

They're corrupt, all of them, Tulip thinks as she cuts into her steak, eyes narrowing.

"So, Tulip." one of them speaks up, and her eyes drift to the Minister in a red dress. Alexis is her name, Tulip thinks. "It's quite good to see you back where you belong. Where have you been, hm?"

"Traveling." Tulip answers simply, stabbing her fork into a piece of steak. "Wanted to find myself."

"Ah, I see." Alexis nods. "Well, it's always good to figure out yourself before you take over your parents company."

"Mhm." The Avatar nods absent-mindedly.

She tunes out the rest of the conversation, eating her food the rest of the time.

○●○

She can hear people conversing in the second floor, but she doesn't care. She wants to be out of here, but she can't when there's dozens of security guards down stairs. She'd be caught in an instance.

Tulip paces around her room, and she glares down at the heels she's wearing. They're not too large, just about two inches or so, but they're still uncomfortable. But it wasn't like she could take them off.

A 'plink!' caught her attention, and Tulip turns her head to look at the window. She raises an eyebrow, wondering if she heard wrong.

Just as she turns her head away again, another soft 'plink!' and she turns her head again. "What the.."

"Alright, it isn't working."

Was that Shantae's voice?

"Yeah.. Pikachu, try using Swift!"

"Don't gotta tell me twice."

Tulip didn't even get to question it, as silver stars quickly appeared by her window and smashed into the outside of it, breaking its lock. The window was then pried open, and Shantae's head peaked over. "Hey!"

"Shantae?!" Tulip gasps, rushing over and pulling her friend through. She then looks down, and her jaw drops, seeing probably the rest of the other Avatars standing on a section of the second floor roof.

"Are you gonna help us up?" Ash's cheeky voice snaps Tulip out of her shock, and she rolls her eyes with a smile.

"For that stunt, you and Pikachu can get yourselves up." It wasn't too hard to tell she was joking, as soon a rope descended

With everyone soon in her (admittedly too large) room, she can all tell they're trying to formulate words.

"So.. you look.." Shantae narrows her eyes, trying to best figure out how to say this. Considering Tulip was wearing a dress, heels, her hair was in a bun, and she was wearing some makeup. It was clearly a bit jarring.

"Prissy." Tune finishes. "No offense."

"None taken." Tulip shakes her head before walking over to her bed and collapsing onto it with a heavy sigh. "But how'd you guys get here?"

"We asked." Captain Olimar is the one to answer simply, and the teen knows she won't get any further answers.

"Anyway, we're here to get you out of here." Ash smiles at Tulip, and she weakly returns it.

"Guys, I appreciate it, but.." Tulip sits up and looks down at her hands. "I'm not getting out of this one so easily. There's security- Wait, how did you guys get past security?"

All the Avatars make a point not to look at her. Tulip rushes over to the window and pokes her head out, seeing the unconscious bodies of many security guards.

"Wha.."

"They aren't dead!" Shantae quickly reassures her. "Just.. unconscious.."

"Right.." Tulip nods. "Well, how are you guys even going to get me out? It's not like it'll be easy.."

Nimbus dumps a large bag onto the ground. "Now it makes sense why I was told to go and look for clothes."

"Aaand.. what're you guys gonna do exactly?" Tulip narrows her eyes.

Shantae smiles mischievously. "Two words; improve and chaos."

Tulip blinks before smiling just as mischievously, nodding.

She was feeling a lot better now.

[yandereshingeki]

I was surprised at how much it helped actually 😭 it’s an intense taste at first but a lot nicer after you swallow it, and much better than any medicine TT at least in my opinion anyway 😭

Thank youu 🥹🥹 I feel much better now and it does feel so good, I always forget how much being ill sucks until I’m actually ill again TT

I’m still saving up to buy a pc but I was looking at pre-built ones and there was one near me that was so tempting but I just don’t have the money right now 😭😭 I’ll get there eventually 💔

I’ll leave the warm orange recipe below 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Sincerely a very scared anon 😗 ~~

p.s ~ i always forget how I do my signature so I apologise if this is wrong 😔

p.p.s ~ I hope the warm orange helps 🫶🏻

1. Get a big orange and slice the top off of it 🍊

2. Stab the inside of the orange with a fork, like you would a baked potato 🥔

3. Sprinkle a little salt on the flesh of the orange where you just stabbed 🧂

4. Put the sliced off bit of orange back on top, like a lid 🍊

5. Place in a microwaveable bowl and microwave the orange for 2 minutes 🥣

6. When the orange is ready, discard the sliced off bit of orange and add some honey 🍯

7. Squeeze out the juices from the warm orange 🍊

8. Be careful! Mine was very hot :3

9. Gently mix, add more honey if needed, and drink with a spoon or a syringe :))

10. 🫂🫂🫂💋💋💋

OOO THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON!!! I have to wait until my dad gets home to try this because he’s the only one well enough that can go out right now (He gets home from work soon so i’ll ask him to go get me an orange) but if he does, I’ll let you know if it works!!!! Also i’m so sorry that I took like an hour to respond to this I had such bad body aches that I just took some pain meds and took a nap 😭😭 body is feeling better but my head is pounding !! being sick sucks so bad you’re so right about not remembering how bad it is until you get sick again （；＿；）Gotta fight through it though, I got stuff to finish

💋💋 many kisses anon!! Ps, if i ever figure out the pc stuff more, I’ll post about it so hopefully you can see!!

[lycanfuck]

words like violence cw implied rape/cocsa, incest, sibling abuse, homophobia, f-slur

it took almost three days for luka's voice to return all the way back to normal. he was worried it never would. he didn't know it was possible to bruise your throat from getting face-fucked, but he guessed if anyone was going to surprise him with shit like this, it was zach.

it was easy enough to explain away, as there was some bug going around school. teo never really thought twice about it even though luka exhibited no other symptoms aside from his strained vocal chords. every time he said anything around zach for those three days, he'd look up at him and smirked and luka felt like throwing up.

the only ones who had seemed to notice anything off about him were, of course, a few of his friends. specifically anne and bri. girls just had that kind of black magic, he supposed. neither of them had said a word but he would catch anne watching him every so often, like she knew something was going on, and while she obviously didn't know what it was exactly, it was clear she didn't like it and luka found himself feeling more uneasy around her than he had in a long time.

teo poured himself an extra glass of wine with dinner friday evening, the world news playing in the corner on the small television that was set on the kitchen counter.

"and in other news tonight, the controversial rape trial featuring a high school girl who'd been drinking the night she claimed to have been raped by two of her school's football team, has recanted part of her testimony."

his stepdad made a disgusted sound and luka pushed his food around on his place with his fork.

"she's already ruined their reputations and now she's taking it back? it's no wonder you can't trust someone when they say they've been raped. us men really have to watch our backs. piss off the wrong bitch and you end up getting accused of rape."

luka could feel zach's eyes on him but he didn't look up. he held his breath, though, waiting to hear his brother's response.

"such a shame, but you reap what you sow."

"this is a depressing topic for dinner," teo wrinkled his nose and scooped more green beans onto his plate.

luka's heart sank to his stomach, but he tried to reason with himself. after all, he had no way of knowing that his son's cum was currently drying between luka's thighs. *** saturday at least gave him a chance to escape his house and zach, and he took off early in the morning with his skateboard, riding down the street, wind whipping through his hair, riding all the way to anne's without pausing the entire way there. he slowed to a stop in front of their house, though, lifting a hand to wave at her grandma, who was sitting on the porch.

della waved back as luka picked up his board and headed up to the sidewalk. "she's still in bed," she told him with an eye roll. "that's okay," he replied with a shrug, moving to sit down beside her on the porch steps. "why are you up so early?"

"saturday morning cartoons," she said with a 'well, duh' expression. "but right now it's pink panther and i don't care for that. i'm here for speed buggy." "that's a good one," he agreed, tucking some hair behind his ear. della looked at him for a moment, studying him like she was trying to figure something out. "you can watch it with me if you want." the offer caught him a bit off-guard, but a tiny smile tugged at his mouth. "yeah? okay. i'd like that."

"we gotta be quiet 'cause we don't wanna wake the beast."

luka considered that, watching anne's grandma from the corner of his eye. "have you had breakfast yet?"

"no, i wanted to treat anne and you to some pancakes today, but... well, you know," with a wince of pain, she gently massaged her knuckles, her fingers moving in slow, soothing circles over the swollen joints.

after a moment, "i think i know how to make pancakes," luka said. her eyes lit up, but she didn't say anything more, so he continued, "what do you say?" "i say heck yeah." pulling a face with her movements, della carefully pushed herself up from the floor, luka offering an arm which she used as steady support. luka left his board on the porch and followed the older woman into the house, then into the kitchen. he'd been here plenty of times in the last year - sometimes it felt a little surreal to eat a meal with them because they were so normal. they didn't call each other names unless it was in a playful manner or throw things at one another and they held actual conversations. every time luka was there, he'd get so caught up in what was going on around him, he'd almost forget about his own shitty life. anne was incredibly lucky. luka had spent so much time there in the last few months in fact, that he knew his way around the kitchen like he actually lived there. in no time at all, he'd gathered all the ingredients needed for homemade pancakes. he'd never done this at home since his mom died because, even with what little dignity, status and respect he had in that house, he wasn't about to cook for teo, and most certainly not for zach.

but he had no issues cooking for anne's family. they'd been welcoming and good to him right from the beginning. he'd been sure back then that they wouldn't like him - that they would meet him and decide he was trouble, but that hadn't happened. instead they'd opened their home to him anytime he showed up on their doorstep, whether or not it was a planned visit.

nobody could do that at his house, with his family. an unexpected visitor would cause trouble for themselves and for whoever they had come to see. aside from ronnie one time early on, none of his friends had ever been to his house, and he'd made sure they understood that it had to stay that way. his family wasn't like any of their families. "where'd you learn to make pancakes? your mama?" della asked, bringing luka out of his thoughts as he went through the motions of preparing breakfast with the older woman at his side. "yeah," he confirmed with a faint smile. "she'd always make them with my stepdad." "your stepdad cooks?" her eyes went wide and a short laugh escaped luka before he could help it. "yeah, he cooks. he's a really good cook, actually." "freddy grills sometimes, but i don't think he even knows how to turn on the stove." *** twenty minutes later, he was setting up a plate of pancakes and bacon on the table for della when he glanced up to see anne frozen in the kitchen entrance, looking somewhere between surprised and confused, whilst ghost was more than happy to rush to him in a frenzied greeting; luka could have sworn he saw him with all paws off the ground at one point. "morning," he greeted, a hint of caution on his voice. "mhm," she responded, looking from him to the pancakes and blinking. "you fixed breakfast?" "yeah, we did," he motioned to the plate stacked with pancakes on the counter and the dish beside it full of hot bacon. "you stole my job..." she placed her hands on her neat rows of tight braids that ran along her scalp in mock-anguish.

"you're supposed to say thank you," della said matter-of-factly before sticking a forkful of pancake in her mouth.

anne shot her a look and her grandma smirked at him as she chewed her food. anne's gaze shifted back to luka. "this is amazing," she told him with a grin. "you're amazing." his cheeks grew warm at the compliment but he rolled his eyes. "fill your plate."

she stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug and luka closed his eyes, exhaling slowly and winding his arms around her, too. he held onto her tightly, not wanting to let go. he felt safe. alive.

"you okay?" she murmured after a moment, though she made no move to let him go. luka's throat ached. he swallowed it down. "yeah. stellar." *** luka managed to avoid zach part of the weekend by staying out of their house for the bigger part of it. his mom had always encouraged luka to spend time with his friends, because she was excited that luka had friends, even if she never got to meet any of them. luka spent most of saturday at anne's home with her and her grandparents and stayed there long past dinner time, playing board games with them, and later video games with anne in her room, their legs pressed together as they sat side by side playing frogger. sunday he was up and out of the house just as early as he'd been the day before, but this time he'd headed for the mccatty's. bri was an early riser even if luka wasn't usually, and she'd been more than a tad surprised to see him on the porch with his backpack in hand, a wad of cash in the other. they'd sat together in companionable silence for nearly two hours as she happily completed his homework for the week before her mother had rolled out of bed, looking as surprised to see him as bri had been.

she'd immediately set about fixing omelettes for everyone and wound up scrapping them into the garbage when they'd ended up burning. disappointed, she had suggested a trip to waffle house, which bri eagerly agreed to. luka knew they didn't go out to eat very often due to the tight budget and he felt guilty tagging along with no leftover money of his own to pay for a meal. by the time they actually made it to the waffle house, he wished he'd refused because zach and a couple of his friends - scotty and darren - were sitting together in a booth a couple tables away from the waitress seated them.

"maybe we should go somewhere else," bri murmured, eyes cutting to where zach sat, arm around the back of the booth as she stared at them while her mom went to the bathroom.

luka was tense, heart beating a little faster in his chest as he refused to look over at him. he had to swallow before speaking, mouth having gone dry. "no, it's fine, he won't bother us," that much he felt sure of. as far as luka's friends knew, zach was still on his best behavior under the threat of a nail bat to his nuts, curtesy of cody. luka didn't want them to think anything was out of the ordinary. he couldn't let them think it. if they started to suspect something wasn't right, he'd be in danger.

"you sure? i'm not crazy about waffle house, anyways."

luka could hear the unease in her voice and he reached out, squeezing her arm lightly. "it's fine, bri." it wasn't fine. he knew it wasn't going to be fine later when he was forced to be at home with zach again the next time. nothing was going to be fine. but it was okay. luka had always been good at playing pretend. *** by the time sunday evening rolled around, he reluctantly returned home, heart sinking as he realized his stepdad's car wasn't in the driveway.

he put his board back down on the sidewalk, deciding he'd just ride back toward town, see if she could hang out with jamie for a while or something just until teo got back from wherever he'd gone.

except zach now stood in the opened door, glaring at him. he said nothing as luka stood frozen, staring back at him and trying to decide on what to do. finally, he lifted his chin ever-so-slightly and got back on his board, skating away from the house and down the road without looking back. *** when luka returned home again that night, zach was asleep, thankfully. he was safe for the night.

morning came all too quickly, though, and he struggled to sleep, waking up at every slight rustle of zach's bed covers as he turned, a creak as he tossed, the sound of his breathing kicking on and off periodically. by the time he got up and got ready for school, luka felt like he hadn't slept at all. he managed to drag himself to the table for a bowl of cereal even though he wasn't hungry and his dread was quickly growing. all-too soon it was time to force himself to get into the passenger side of teo's camaro, every muscle in his body tense as he clutched onto the skateboard with one hand and his backpack with the other. he didn't turn his head to look at zach as he slid into the seat adjacent.

to luka's surprise, he didn't say anything to him until they were alost to school. then he broke the blessed silence. "how was your weekend, luka?" his voice was way too casual and alarm bells began to go off in luka's mind.

he still didn't look at zach. "like you care," he muttered.

"see, that's where you're wrong - i care very much what kind of trouble my brother gets into."

"step-brother," he corrected, jaw tightening slightly.

he went on, completely ignoring him. "whatever trouble your stupid ass gets wrapped up in is my problem." "i didn't get into any trouble," luka snapped, unable to stop himself. it was a mistake, as without warning, zach reached out and grabbed him by his hair, yanking it hard and pulling it toward him as a soft, pained cry escaped him. "watch your fuckin' mouth," he growled, grip tightening. tears sprang to luka's eyes and it was all he could do not to lash out, not to try and punch him or struggle because he knew him well enough to know that wouldn't end well for him. it never did. luka bit down hard on his lip, leaning into the grip in an attempt to loosen his hold on him.

teo's eyes barely deviated from the road as he gave an unenthusiastic, "that's enough, zach."

"shit's gonna change, luka," he shoved luka away from him with as much force as he'd gripped onto him and he winced as his arm banged up against the car door. "a whole lot of shit. you better prepare yourself for that." luka struggled to hold back tears because fuck him. he didn't like crying and he didn't want to do it anymore because of him. didn't want him to have that power over him, that satisfaction. luka could already feel himself slipping away from his own body, mind foggy, and he let it be. at least zach couldn't see that happen. "you got any idea what people say about you at school?" he glanced at his dad in the driver's seat before shooting luka a look. "that you're probably a goddamned faggot." the words stung even though they logically shouldn't. it wasn't the first time someone had said something like that about him. hell, that had been a rumor in jersey. he never bothered to confirm or deny it because he didn't care, but that invited people to mock him for it.

"i wonder it myself sometimes," he looked over at him again, thinly-veiled deceit in his eyes. "you prefer dick, luka? you can tell me. it's important we know, right, dad?"

"go to hell," luka responded evenly, grip tightening on his backpack.

"god is patient and merciful," teo immediately spat out, like he was waiting for luka to say something he could scold in favor of zach. "do not wish that on your family, luka." zach huffed a soft laugh. "i don't blame him," he reached over and squeezed his knee and luka shrank away from him the best that he could, pressing himself up against the door, briefly contemplating reaching for the handle and jumping out. his heart began to beat faster in his chest as he spotted teo's eyes on him in the rear-view mirror. "he's just scared he might end up there. thing is, doesn't matter how much you like dick. you're not gonna fuck up my life more than you already have. it's not fair that your sins have started being projected onto me, when i've been nothing but supportive of your repentance. so you're gonna stop dressing like a fuckin' queer and start acting like a normal guy because i'm tired of hearing people run their mouth about my stepbrother."

he tightened his grip on luka's knee. "clear?"

luka felt his throat tighten at the threat as they pulled into the parking lot of their school. "yeah."

"good." luka scrambled out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him, making a break for school but not before zach had circled around faster than he thought was possible for a person; he placed a hand on luka's shoulder as he passed. "and don't make plans after school today, i've already made some for us," his voice was all-too casual as teo peeled out of the lot. luka wish he'd jumped out of the car when he'd had the chance.

[boombambaby]

Yzma's Perfect World

|| Takes place before the llama incident! || “Hmm, okay. Let me think about it. . . “

Elegant feather fans hardly make a noise as their breeze drifts across his face, gently brushing his bangs away from his brow. Beautiful women surround him on all sides in the spacious relaxation room, quiet and concentrated on their tasks; whether that be to fan him or to feed him. The only noise in the room save for his occasional chewing is that of the panpipe and flute music floating towards them from across the room, where his palace musicians play without interruption.

It’s been hours since Kuzco last moved from his reclined position on his favorite settee, hands pillowing the back of his head, and his legs still outstretched from his earlier massage. His eyes haven’t opened in just as long, and the only indication he gives that he hasn’t fallen asleep is when his mouth falls open, prompting the women sitting on either side of him to pierce another morsel of food on their golden forks to feed him with.

“Okay, I’ve thought about it. No, no, no aaaaand– no.” “But Sire! You can’t– y-you have to!” The royal record keeper exclaims, his shock and excitement very nearly bowling him over where he stands by the door. The day had started off well enough. Kuzco woke up refreshed and excited for the day ahead. He had nothing on his schedule, save for a little pampering– which was just the way he liked it. He started off with a facial, followed by a light breakfast. A quick dip in the pool, and then sunbathing for several hours. Now he laid in the relaxation room after his full body massage enjoying his light snack and some music– Untill The-Thing-That-Wouldn’t-Shut-Up showed up and ruined it all, of course. “Look, that’s where you’re wrong, pal. I don’t have to do anything. At all. Ever.” He raises a hand to stop the women from feeding him anything else for the moment and sits up, glaring at the short man still babbling uselessly. “Me? Emperor. You? Short annoying advisor-y type. . . guy.” Kuzco emphasizes his point by jabbing him in the chest with his finger, annoyance clear on his features. “YOU do it. ‘Cause, if you couldn’t tell? My schedule’s a little full.” He takes a step back, a wounded look crossing his features that quickly shifts right back into panic the moment the Emperor’s words register. “B-but your Highness! It’s tradition! The Emperor always blesses the new temples, and gives a speech– “ “I don’t care!” His temper flares, and in his haste to sit himself up he almost gets stuck on his silk robe and falls out of the chair. “I’m not going! You can’t make me. Either YOU go in my place, or– I don’t know, send Yzma! Figure it out!” Recognizing a lost cause when he sees one, he heaves a world-weary sigh and stuffs his handkerchief into a pocket, carefully avoiding looking the Emperor directly in the eye. “Very well, Sire– but, uh. You see– n-no one has seen Yzma today, and she was suppos–” “She’s probably in her “secret lab” doing something. . . old and creepy.” Kuzco huffs, raising his hands to make ‘finger quotes’ at the mention of the secret lab before he pushes himself to standing. “If you want something done right around here, you gotta do it yourself.” Without waiting for the short man to leave, Kuzco turns and struts out of the room. He hadn’t seen Yzma at all this morning either, not that he was complaining. For someone who was supposed to be the epitome of perfection, he hated having the old hag skulking around in his palace. Except, of course, when it benefited him. The longer he had to go without doing actual work, the better. Especially if it meant not sitting through hours of peasants whining about their sad lives. . . . Not that he’d ever admit that to her. On his way to the West wing, the ominous sound of singing catches his ear and he pauses for a moment in the middle of the hallway– nearly sending a servant directly into his back. She’s able to catch herself in time and skid around him, avoiding eye contact all the time– but Kuzco is so confused by the singing he pays her no mind regardless. “What’s my name?!” It’s coming from what’s supposed to be a vacant office room, and he can’t initially place the voice through the closed door. It’s familiar, but it’s definitely not his theme song and he idly wonders who would have the gaul to sing something that DIDN’T involve him in HIS palace? The door creeps open as he presses a hand against it, just enough to peek through and he catches Yzma– of all dinosaurs– dancing around the room. “I'll be the sovereign QUEEN of the nation, I'm the sheekest chick in creation! I'm the cat with all the cream and ooh la la.” She purrs the last part, and it takes everything in his power not to throw up on the spot. Honestly. This day? Ruined.

“With a deadly concentration, I’ll put an end to my frustration– now this perfect world begins and ends with MUAH! What's my name?!” She pauses with her eyes closed, cupping a hand to her ear like she’s listening for something in the background and Kuzco, despite himself, glances around like he’s expecting someone to jump out of the shadows. When she belts out her name– eerily similar to the way he himself does– he almost jumps. Almost.

“Yzmaaaa, Whats my name?! Yzmaaa, What'd you say? Yzmaaaa– 

– AHAHAHAHA!” When she breaks into her customary evil laugh, Kuzco has had more than enough; and it’s with no small amount of disgust that he pushes the door open to step fully inside the room, with his arms crossed over his chest. “AHEM.” “-- HAHAH– OOH OH! O-Oh. Your highness!” He can’t help but smirk as the old crone just about jumps out of her skin, that evil laughter petering off to a nervous laughter as she fumbles with her scary dress and attempts to put herself back together. “I-I was just, just– “

“You were. . . what?” “Y-you know, uh. Thinking up a new. . . song! For your ‘theme song’ man to sing about you, haha– “ “Right. Y’know what’s REALLY evil, Yzma? Like; the lowest of the low. So evil I’m probably going to have nightmares for the rest of my young life, evil?” Yzma only blinks at him with the caterpillars she calls eyelashes, appearing stunned and entirely uncertain as to how to proceed. He doesn’t bother waiting for a reply, knowing he isn’t going to get one anyways and crosses his legs at the ankle where he leans against the door’s frame. “. . .Stealing a guy’s theme song. Seriously– THAT’S evil. Yikes. I might have to throw it out and have my guy make up a whole new one.” He’s only half serious, really. After another pregnant pause, Kuzco heaves a sigh and pushes himself off of the frame, turning like he’s going to head out of the room but stopping just before closing the door behind him. “Oh, by the way? You have a temple to bless, some peasant matters to handle and about 4 meetings this evening. If you have any questions, go see the little guy who won’t shut up.” “What!? But I– “ Kuzco has no issue cutting her off. “This has been a nightmare, truly. Okay. Buh-bye.” And with that, he’s gliding out of the door, shivering as he heads back down the hall towards his own room. He purposefully ignores the loud “Kuuuuzco!” he hears coming from the direction of that room he’s going to demolish, just because he can.

[batfamgalore]

Dick Grayson was currently the reason everyone here was alive, but he was also holding the outcome of their lives in his head, and without him they weren't going to make it out of this tunnel before it collapsed.

Which made Dick getting stabbed all the more difficult. The only person who knew the way out was also the person currently fighting off unconsciousness with every passing second.

Dick, or Nightwing, was currently slumped between his two friends. Roy on his right and Wally on his left. They were trailing through the cave at a brisk pace, Dick's feet stumbling beneath him as he kept trying to find his footing.

Dick's eyes were going from open to closed as they walked, he knew if he closed them for too long he would lose his battle to stay awake and he couldn't do that until he knew his friends were safe. He opened his eyes once more when Roy and Wally suddenly stopped walking.

Dick figured out why relatively quickly, when he saw a fork in the road.

The idea of Wally running ahead to find all possible exits was suggested a few times by Nightwing, who kept forgetting that Wally was currently out of juice and couldn't run any faster than Roy.

"Flash, just run ahead" there was a pause as Dick's head bobbed up and down and he took a sharp breath, "and find the exit".

Roy and Wally exchanged a look.

"You sure you didn't get hit in the head there Grayson? You suggested that like three times already." Roy said, surveying his friend.

Blood loss was a bitch.

And the blood loss was currently coming out of Dick's side, a hard place to try and stop the bleeding, so time was of the essence here.

Dick assumed Wally or Roy had been trying to ask him something because what he felt like was a second later, someone was poking him in said stab wound.

"Ow." Dick said, opening his eyes to try and glare at the culprit.

"Sorry Grayson, but we gotta get you out of here, we don't know what way to go."

Dick swore to get Roy back for poking him, but for now he settled for opening his eyes and trying to focus on their surroundings.

Being underground had disabled their comms and any of their connection to the blueprints. Luckily, one of Bruce's cardinal rules was to never rely on technology. Dick had the layout of the cave memorized before they even arrived.

He looked down each pathway, surveying the rocks and layout.

"Is this the second or third fork?? Dick asked, closing his eyes and racking his brain for the mental map.

"Second." Wally said.

"Go left." Dick said and Wally and Roy immediately began walking again. Dick let out a small groan at the sudden movement.

"Hang on Dick." Wally said, adjusting his grip on Dick as they continued walking down the corridor. After a few minutes passed in silence, Dick spoke.

"Something's wrong." Dick said, and once again Wally and Roy stopped in their tracks. Dick let out another groan.

"What? We're going the wrong way?" Roy asked. He knew his tone came out harsher than he wanted, but he was just worried. He wanted to get Dick out of here as fast as possible and the guy clearly wasn't very coherent right now.

"No, not that. This is the right way." Dick said, and Wally and Roy started walking again, this time a little slower in case Dick had been wrong about the way they were going.

"My head hurts." Dick said it more as a question than a statement and that only added to their confusion.

"Yeah, you probably got hit at some point." Roy pointed out, picking up their pace a little more.

"No. I didn't." Dick sounded sure of himself, but one of the symptoms of a concussion was forgetting things, so Roy wasn't too worried about that.

Before they could follow up, they hit another fork in the road.

Roy jostled Dick a little to get his eyes open.

"Hey. What way now?" Dick opened his eyes and looked at his surroundings once more.

"Left again." Dick said, and they kept walking.

When Dick was quiet for a long time, Roy started talking again.

"Maybe you just don't remember hitting your head." Roy suggested, but Dick didn't seem to like that response.

"No. I remember not hitting my head." Dick snarkily replied. He was getting tired. He wanted to sleep now.

"Maybe it's just normal headache stuff. You know, from when you got shot?" Wally pointed out. Dick wanted to send him a glare, but even the thought of opening his eyes was taking too much energy out of him.

He knew his friends just wanted him to be okay, but Dick knew himself. He knew what was a normal headache and what was a normal stab wound. And neither of these were.

"I think." Dick paused to take a breath and collect his thoughts. He didn't want to panic his friends any more than they needed to be. "The blade was poisoned."

That was enough for Roy and Wally.

Dick felt Roy and Wally pick up the pace and no one said anything for a moment or two. Dick spoke up again.

"Only maybe." Dick said, trying to shrug his shoulders.

"Dick. If you think you were poisoned. You probably were." Roy said.

"Yeah and its better to be-" Whatever Wally was about to say was cut off when the ground began shaking.

Dick didn't even bother to open his eyes, he knew they still had some time before the whole thing collapsed. Roy and Wally were moving a lot faster now and Dick was struggling to keep up with them. In fact, he was pretty sure they could make it out of here by themselves at this point. He let unconsciousness take over, until somehow he was jostled back into the land of the living. This time he was sitting down with his back against something cold.

"Hey. Open your eyes." Something cold and wet splashed over Dick's head and Dick's eyes shot open.

"Not cool." Dick said, one arm holding his side and the other arm trying to wipe the water from his face.

"I told him not to-" Wally started saying defensively before he was interrupted by Roy's yelling.

"Are you kidding right now? Look around. You cornered us Grayson." Dick looked around and saw that they were at a dead end. But he knew the layout he knew which ways to go, so how did they end up at a dead end? "you don't even know where we are. We're all gonna die down here and it'll be your fault." Roy pointed a finger at Dick before starting to pace back and forth.

"Kinda harsh, man." Wally said, sitting next to a dazed and confused Nightwing. Wally tried to get a look at Dick's wound, but Dick was doing a good job at hiding it with his hand.

"Yeah. Thought you had a little bit more faith in me." Dick sounded a lot more out of breath for a guy who had just been sitting on the floor for 5 minutes should be.

Roy turned around, ready to yell at his friend again for some reason or another, but looking at Dick felt like he had been slapped the face.

His face was completely drained of any color, and Roy could tell that some of the water on his face wasn't from the water he poured on him. His hands were shaking, and the way he was partially curled in on himself had Roy thinking that he was in an immense amount of pain.

"Shit, listen-"

"The rocks behind me are loose." Realization had begun to sunk in. He knew he made the right turn. Dick moved his hand to gesture to the rocks at his back. His reaction time wasn't matching his words, which was all the more concerning.

"They break off 3 and a half feet from the end of the wall in that corner." Dick pointed once more to the end of the wall.

"Once we're through there should be a set of stairs. And we're out."

Wally smirked.

Dick gave Roy a sad thumbs up and a small smile. Wally and Roy wordlessly began removing the rocks from the wall.

"How did you remember all this shit?" Roy asked, he was almost through pulling the rocks out when the ground began to shake again. Roy moved faster and spared a glance over at Dick, who was still sitting up against the wall, eyes open watching his friends.

"Perks of training with the bat."

They finally got all the rocks out and Roy peered through the hole, he could see the staircase.

"Alright Dick, you first-" Roy and Wally turned to see Dick, now completely slumped over on the ground, unconscious.

[lailyn]

Sole Provider

Characters: Loki/Tony Stark, Stephen Strange, Christine Palmer

Summary: Tony should have just let Loki order the fish.

___________________

Tony let out a groan.

“Are you alright, Anthony?” Loki asked politely. 

“Sole meunière again?”

“Is this not a seafood restaurant?” Loki queried. “Do they not serve fish? Please don’t tell me this is one of those pretentious fusion places that put chicken korma into a sushi and call it a taco.”

“Okay, that sounds bizarre but also kinda delicious. No, I mean, yes, this is a seafood place but come on, there’s gotta be something else you can try.”

“Why? I share Julia Child's sentiment, no other dish can quite compare. It is simple yet elegant and absolutely delicious."

"I don’t know why we bother going out to eat if you're going to be ordering the same thing everytime,” Tony complained. 

"Funny you should say that. It is a luxury afforded me only here on Midgard.”

Tony blinked, momentarily confused. "But you're a prince.”

“Was.”

“You and your brother, you can’t be any more different,” Tony said, shaking his head in amazement. “I mean, I've seen the way Thor eats, he’s always telling us stories of the feasts you guys used to have back in the day.”

“Ah yes.” Loki made a face. “The feasts. Norns forbid I should develop an affinity for anything. Father would make sure it would never appear at our table again.”

“Why?” Tony braced himself for another gruesome story about Odin and his inimitable parenting style. “Isn’t feeding your kids what they like a universally good thing?”

“Not if it makes it easier for people to poison them,” Loki said darkly. “You shouldn’t be so predictable in life, Anthony. You make it easy for someone to put a knife to your throat when you sleep in the same bed every night.”

“That’s why all my penthouses have ten bedrooms, minimum,” Tony said dryly. "Remind me to get the builder in this week so I can make you a secret compartment for all your daggers."

"There is no safer place for my daggers than on my person," Loki said.

"Where do you keep them anyway? Yeah, I know they're on your person, but where exactly on your person?"

"For all your exploring, you still haven't figured that out?" Loki teased. "I suppose Thor never told you about Mjollnir? He could make it so tiny he could carry it everywhere."

"I can't believe I'm saying this but can we please get back to the topic?" Tony pleaded. "You said you were starving. I'm just saying, maybe eat something substantial? Hey, look, soft shell crabs are in season. Let's get that."

Loki sneered. "I don't trust anything that cannot decide if they want to live on land or in water."

"That must be related to some shapeshifter logic I know nothing about but does the habitat really matter as long as it tastes good?"

"And yet you claim to have a very discerning palate."

"For whisky, sure."

"So your last meal on Earth would be - ?"

"Cheeseburgers, yeah."

________________

Loki poked his fork into the mound of deep-fried things. "Crabs aren't supposed to be this soft. Has this gone bad? Things go mushy when they go bad, right? Like bananas and dead bodies?"

“Bambi, this is a three Michelin star restaurant," Tony said patiently. "Any fresher than that you're gonna have to peel the shells off the moulting crabs yourself."

"And bring Njord's wrath upon my head? No, thank you."

"Then you'd better dig in. I'm sure your god friend would want you to enjoy and appreciate all the bounties of the sea."

"The things I do for you, Stark…" Loki twirled his fork around a few strands of pasta and a piece of crab. 

Tony watched Loki chew slowly at first, before picking up pace, swallowing the first mouthful with an appreciative hum.

"That went down easy," Tony observed happily. 

He was about to dig into his own dish, an exquisite squid ink pasta dish with abalone and mussels, when Loki began coughing. 

Tony looked up. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Something just went down the wrong way," Loki coughed harder. He thumped his chest with his fist several times. "Excuse me."

“It's not spicy, is it?" Tony asked, filling Loki’s glass with some water from the pitcher. "Here, drink this."

Loki gave a vehement shake of the head, clenching the table in a white-knuckled grip as he let out a string of harsh, painful-sounding coughs. 

Tony watched in growing horror as Loki grabbed his throat.

"Tony," he called hoarsely. "I can't -  breathe - "

Tony scrambled out of his chair, just as Loki toppled off of his. "Loki!"

Hearing the thump from Loki's unceremonious landing on the floor, the nearby tables began to gather around theirs. 

Tony held his lover's lolling head between his hands. Loki's chest rose up and down but he could not seem to get a single breath in. "Loki!"

"Is he choking?" A man asked loudly. "Does anybody know Heimlich?"

"Somebody call an ambulance!"

"Oh my God, he's turning blue!"

"Excuse us!" A loud voice and a louder man pushed through the crowd. "Can everybody step back and give us some room?"

"What are you doing to him?" Tony demanded. 

The tall, grumpy-looking man ignored him and simply focused on loosening Loki's tie and exposing his chest.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" Tony was about to grab the man, when a hand landed on his shoulder.

He turned around to see a petite red-haired woman smiling down at him.

"It's alright, we're doctors," she said apologetically. "We can help."

She directed her next question to her companion. "What do you think, Stephen? An anaphylactic reaction?"

"Looks like," Stephen said gruffly. "His lips are swelling up, and he's breaking out in hives."

The doctor groped around in his dinner jacket and fished out what appeared to Tony to be some kind of hand-held flashlight, long and thin. He uncapped it, revealing a needle at the tip. 

With one confident stroke, the man stabbed the pen-like device right into Loki's thigh. 

"Whoa, what is that?" Tony demanded.

"It's an Epi-pen," Stephen explained impatiently. "Didn't your GP supply you with one? You're not supposed to go anywhere without it when you have a life-threatening allergy, don't you know that?"

"I don't - he didn't - " Tony mumbled. "We didn't know."

The pretty redhead glowered at her date and kept her hand on Tony's shoulder. "It's okay. He's going to be okay."

"Not if he keeps sticking around with you," Stephen mumbled under his breath. 

"Stephen," she hissed. 

"Christine," he mimicked, before turning his wrath upon Tony once more. "You go on a date with someone, you let them order whatever they freaking want. And before you ask, I wasn't eavesdropping, I just have very good hearing. Was it because you were picking up the check?"

Tony could not believe his ears. "Excuse me?" 

"It was either that or you're a major control freak," Stephen muttered, pointedly turning his back to feel for the pulse on the side of Loki's neck. "Consider yourself lucky I was here, Mr Stark. The press would have had a field day."

Before Tony could come up with a scathing response, Loki began to stir. 

The colour returned to his cheeks, just as the blue left his lips.

"Tony?" He whispered.

Tony shouldered the insufferable doctor out of the way. "I'm here, baby."

Green eyes fluttered open. They quickly came into focus, before widening in alarm at the sight of the crowd. 

"What happened? Why am I on the floor?" Loki tried to push himself up, but Stephen's firm hand on his shoulder kept him on the ground. "Who are you people?"

"People whose dinner is now ruined, thanks to you." Stephen's words may be harsh but his voice was gentle. "See, Christine. This is why I have the Epi-pen, on my person, at all times."

"Yes, yes," she said, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "Dr Stephen Strange, ladies and gentleman. Once a hero, always a hero."

Loki grew even more confused. "Doctor?"

"I am so, so sorry, Loki." Tony sounded near tears. "I damn near killed you."

Stephen heaved a loud sigh. "It wasn't you, idiot."

"Tony, why is this man calling you names?"

"Not important." Tony kissed Loki's knuckles over and over. "He can call me anything he likes. He just saved your life."

"Yes, that will be two thousand dollars, made out to Doctor Stephen Strange, MD, PhD. You can find me at Metro-General, everyone knows who I am."

A wide smile began to spread across Stephen's face. It made him look frightening, and frighteningly handsome at the same time. It was every bit as frightening as his next words.

"I have a feeling we will be very good friends."

[sunsetprime]

Dream SMP Quotes:

(Warning: ships ahead)

Tommy: Can I just say something real quick? Oh come on hear me out!

Techno: I didn't say anything.

Tommy: *shrugs* I just assumed that you'd say no.

Tubbo: There are seven chairs and ten kids. What do you do?

Wilbur: Have everyone stand.

Phil: Bring three more chairs!

Tommy: The most important ones can sit down.

Techno: Kill three.

Tommy: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything?

Tubbo: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies

Phil: Socks are Feetie Heaties

Tommy: Forks are Stabby Grabbies

Wilbur: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties

Phil: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies

Tubbo: Stamps are Lickie Stickies

Techno, annoyed: You are disappointments

Tommy: So……. I've seen you've been spending a lot of time with Ranboo recently.

Tubbo: No, Tommy it's not what it looks like, I swear.

Tommy: Oh really? So no reason for me to be jealous?

Tubbo: No! You're the only one for me.

Tommy: Is that so?

Tubbo: I promise! Ranboo and I are just platonically married, okay? They're my partner.

Tommy: So there are no best-friends-feelings involved?

Tubbo: You are still my one and only best friend! They're just my husband, nothing more!

Tommy: But I'm still the best friend of your life right?

Tubbo: Of course big man!

Ranboo: What the-

George: Entering Dream's room: Sapnap did it again.

Dream: Peace disturbance?

George: What no-

Dream: Arson.?

George: NO, PRIME ALMIGHTY, HOW MANY-

Dream: uh…Pet murder?

George: NO, THEY ATE ALL THE FOOD IN THE FRIDGE, BUT WHAT THE FU-

(Dreamnoblade)

Dream: How do you know how to kiss? Like who teaches you?

Techno: Well it's actually a class, but unfortunately it's full right now

Techno: Would you like me to tutor you?

Sapnap: That was smooth.

Tommy: It's impossible to make a sentence without using the letter a.

Wilbur: Despite your thinking, it is quite possible, yet difficult, to form one without the specific

letter. Here's one more to further disprove your theory.

Tommy: Fuck you.

(Dreamnotfound)

Dream: "yawns*

George: Yeah, being that pretty must be tiring.

Dream:Then you must be exhuasted.

Sapnap: Will you two shut up? Some of us are lonely.

Tubbo, reading a recipe: Beat three eggs?

Tommy: It means like in hand-to-hand combat.

Tubbo: Ohhhh-

Wilbur: Both of you get out of this kitchen.

Wilbur: Is anyone going to tell me what's going on in here?!

Fundy: It's kind of complicated, but Tommy-

Wilbur: Got it. Forget I asked.

*Something crashes*

Tommy: Shit-

Phil: *running into the room in a panic* WHAT FELL?!

Techno: *walking by the room calmly* What died?

Phil: *talking about Wilbur’s funeral* You know, we're burying a great person today!

Fundy, shocked: Did someone else die?

Tubbo: What's the signal when something goes wrong?

Tommy: We yell, 'oh shit.'

Wilbur: …That'll work.

Tommy: *sneaking in through their window*

Revivedbur: *turning in his chair and flicking the light one* You want to tell me where you've been all

night?

Tommy: I was with Big Q..?

Quackity: *turning in his chair* Wanna try again?

Quackity: You're pathetic!

Tommy: You're pathetic-er!

Techno: You're both losers.

Dream: Tommy~ remember the time I had you exiled?

Tommy: …y-yeah?

Dream: I'm willing to do it again if you don't shut the fuck up!

Tommy:…

Techno and Wilbur : If you fucking dare touch a single finger on Tommy you'll be sorry.

Tommy: What does 'take out' mean?

Tubbo: Food.

Wilbur: Dating

Techno: Murder

Dream: IT CAN MEAN ALL THREE IF YOU'RE NOT A COWARD.

Techno: I CAN'T DO IT!

Tommy, laughing: I CAN'T EITHER!

Techno:I CANT FUCKING DO IT ANYMORE

Phil: WELL I'LL TELL YOU WHAT, YOU CAN EITHER GIVE UP NOW, OR YOU CAN FIGURE IT OUT. BECAUSE WE CERTAINLY CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT YOU, AND WE KNOW YOU CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT US.

Techno:…

Techno: I appreciate it

Techno: BUT LOOK WHAT WE'RE DEALING WITH-

Wilbur: Techno-

Techno:YOU GOTTA DRAW THE LINE SOMEWHERE!

Tubbo:Techno, we gotta-

Techno: YOU GOTTA DRAW A FUCKING LINE IN THE SAND. YOU GOTTA MAKE A STATEMENT.

Techno: YOU GOTTA LOOK INSIDE YOURSELF AND SAY 'What am I willing to put up with today?'

Techno, motioning to Quackity : NOT FUCKING THIS!

Phil: Nothing in life is free.

Tubbo: Love is free!

Wilbur: Adventure is free.

Techno: Knowledge is free.

Tommy: Everything is free if you take it without paying.

Tommy: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!

Tubbo: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD!

Tommy: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING WILBUR WITH ME

Techno, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

Tommy, banging on the door: Tubbo! Open up!

Tubbo: Well, it all started when I was a kid...

Techno: No, they meant-

Wilbur: Let them finish.

Dream: I like wearing oversized sweaters. Not just because they're extremely comfy and cuddly, but because whenever the sleeves are really big, I get to flop them around and smack people.

Wilbur, at the slightest provocation: I came into this earth screaming and covered in someone else's blood and and I'm not afraid to leave the same way.

Sapnap: When life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade. Make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don't want your damn lemons, what the hell am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life's manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Sapnap lemons! Do you know who I am? I'm the person who's gonna burn your house down! With the lemons! I'm gonna get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that burns your house down!

Tommy: Do you ever think? Because I do not.

Tommy: Sometimes, I don’t realize an event was traumatic until I tell it as a funny story and notice everyone is staring at me weird.

Techno: What do you call disobeying the law?

The Syndicate: A hobby.

Techno: *raises an eyebrow*

The Syndicate: That we engage in.

Techno, grins sinisterly.

Sapnap: God has let me live another day and I'm going to make it everyone's problem.

Techno: *Walking in to a room* Sorry I’m late... I was... doing things. *Sounds of running footsteps progressively getting louder*

Tommy: *Out of breath* HE PUSHED ME DOWN THE FUCKIN’ STAIRS!

Wilbur: You know, not every problem can be solved with a sword.

Techno: That's why I carry two swords.

(Quackbur)

*The squad right before Wilbur’s wedding*

Tommy: Well I have to go, I have a wedding to attend.

Phil: Wait... Oh! I have a wedding to attend too!

Techno: Oh, I have a wedding to attend as well.

Dream: I THINK WE ALL HAVE WEDDINGS TO ATTEND!

Quackity , panicked: I THINK I’M THE GROOM AT THE WEDDING!

Techno, walking into their house: Hello, people who do not live here.

Tommy: Hey.

Phil: Hi.

Wilbur: Hello.

Tubbo:Hey!

Techno: I gave you the key to my place for emergencies only!

Quackity : We were out of Potatoes.

Quackity : I keep a picture of all of us in my wallet. Whenever I face difficulties, I take it out and stare at the picture.

Las nevadas: Awwww-

Quackity : And I tell myself "If I can deal with these idiots, then I can deal with anything."

Las nevadas: Oh.

Wilbur: What doesn't kill me better start running, because now I'm fucking pissed.

(Dreambur)

Wilbur: I think I'm falling for you.

Dream: Then get up.

Tommy: And I’d love to be sorry for that, but we all know I’ve done much, much worse.

Dream: Don't worry, I have a few knives up my sleeve.

Techno: I think you mean cards.

Dream, pulling knives out of their sleeves: No, I do not.

Wilbur: A pessimist sees a dark tunnel.

Techno: An optimist sees light at the end of the tunnel.

Phil: A realist sees a freight train.

Tommy: The train driver sees three idiots standing on the tracks.

[well-its-not-human-anymore]

Okokok here this: april, reader and casey try to prank the boys. How does it go. With who does it fails/success, what was the prank, do they get caught? Do the boys get revenge, and if so, how?

Also, splinter sees it all unfolds, does he just gets himself a snack and watch, or does he tries to subtly join in without getting caught? (We all know hes got a playful side cmon)

Bonus: they try to prank vern too, maybe the boys join in to prank him? What do they do? Does he retaliate?

Okay so I admit I let my brain go nuts on this one, so it's a little long but I was cackling the entire time I was writing it.

TMNT Headcanons

Prank Wars

Leonardo

In your complete and utter defence, Leo had 100% started this

And also in your defence, you did tell him not to

Twice

But he tricked you into watching a horror movie and ended up dying your hair green

This meant war

You'd even wrapped up April and Casey into it

Their problems were your problems

Which meant that April was the one who convinced Splinter not to say anything to his sons

He was perfectly happy to oblige

Casey was just there to help set things up

And you liked the way his mind worked

The objective wasn't to go unnoticed, there would be no point in doing it and having no proof

You were doing this to prove that you could

Leo had emphasized that he couldn't be distracted

That you were to obvious and clumsy to prank him without him noticing

Challenge fucking accepted

And that's how you ended up at the kitchen table eating lunch with April and Casey when the boys were coming back from meditating with Splinter

April kept having to shove food in her mouth to hide her laughter

Casey just decided to wear sunglasses

And you kept overpowering the urge to smirk

"Hey guys, good to see you. Y/n have you seen my katanas?"

With the obstruction of water in your mouth you just nodded at him, pointing to the other room

He sauntered off, none the wiser to your victorious grin

When he came back in only a moment later his expression had done a complete 180

Leo made direct eye contact with you and you held that stare like a wolf cornered in its den

"does someone want to explain why my katanas are encased in blueberry jello?"

You raised your hand like a child in class

"hate to break it to you, but it's actually berry blue you uncultured bitch"

Raphael

Ohhhh you were so undeniably dead

A whole other level of six feet under

It wasn't a surprise that April and Casey had backed out on this one

It also wasn't a surprise that Splinter had offered to stand up for you if things went sideways

Donnie even gave you a sheet of paper with a list of hiding spots before hand

All of this went completely unnoticed by Raph, the target of your latest scheme.

And that was fine, you had only one objective here-

Make it out alive

But it was amazing what 1 person could do with some extra cash and internet access

So that's what led you to your current position.

Cross legged on the bench, watching the large red terrapin get ready for his first set, that in itself wasn't unusual, you always watched him lift just in case you needed to run and grab someone if something went wrong

Raph was none the wiser to your plan

At least that's what you thought

Your book was in your lap and you were calmly scanning your pages, somewhat comprehending the words but keeping a very close eye on the turtle across from you

"Hey y/n?"

You peeked over the edge of your book to meet his eyes

And your heart sank to your stomach

"Yeah Raph?"

He smirked at you, taking a lumbering step forward

"You ever seen that episode of the Office where Jim fills Dwight's phone with nickels so when he takes 'em out Dwight punches himself in the face?"

Shit shit shit shit shit shit-

"Uh... No, can't say that I have, why do you ask?"

That damn smile got even wider and all of your muscles tensed, you were ready to bolt

"I'm giving you a fifteen second headstart. Starting right now."

You flew to your feet and sprinted out of the weight room

"DONNIE WE GOTTA CODE RED!"

Your lungs were ready to burst by the time you made it to your decided hiding spot. Heavy footsteps went right underneath you and you held your breath, you wouldn't dare move.

You didn't come down until hours later when Splinter came and coaxed to you out of hiding

But deep down you knew you'd started something you couldn't finish.

Vern Fenwick

You didn't even have to convince the guys to partake in this

You didn't even get the chance to tell them what you were planning

They were already brainstorming

None of you let a word of it slip to April, she would've shut you down faster than you could blink

A complete buzz kill

But fake blood was relatively cheap and all of Vern's flooring was tile (meaning extremely easy to clean and bleach)

Donnie had really been the mastermind behind the execution, none of you had any idea how he'd rigged the apartment plumbing

But he'd assured you it would only affect Vern's suite and no one else's so you didn't concern yourself with it further

And after the fact you had to wonder what exactly the former cameraman was planning on the date he'd been in the middle of

All you knew was that you got a very frantic call from the falcon himself yelling about blood coming out of his tap and the sink wouldn't shut off and it was everywhere and what the fuck was happening?

You all knew that Splinter thought it was hilarious, he'd never been particularly fond of Vern

But he did make his sons assist in the clean up and bleaching of the victims apartment floor

You went too and offered moral support

Vern had hit on you one too many times, so there was no way you'd feel bad about this

Michaelangelo

As far as pranking went, you and Mikey were partners in crime

He always had great ideas and you always came up with the best ways to execute those ideas without getting caught

But when you separated those two chaos was guaranteed

You weren't entirely sure how you had been pitted against each other but you weren't entirely mad about it

You couldn't say the same for anyone else though, the others had been on edge all week.

Pranking Mikey was a challenge, he knew how you worked and vice versa

You'd been brainstorming with April for weeks now, maybe a new perspective would help

That's what the two of you told yourselves anyways

Much to your dismay, Mikey and Casey had been plotting against you as well, the traitor.

And perhaps even more unfortunate was the fact that both of your pranks somehow overlapped and backfired on the rest of the family

Because Mikey and Casey may have replaced the family tea set with a edible sugar replica that looked identical to the original

So that when you were asked to make tea for Splinter and Leo it would dissolve the second you poured the hot tea

But they didn't tell anyone else so Leo was left with an impromptu anxiety attack when he made his own tea before sitting down to meditate and it melted into sugary leaf water

And you and April had planned the 'cutting off your finger in the kitchen' with the knife, fake finger, and fake blood

Which in theory should've worked because Mikey was in the kitchen the most, that was his territory

However once you'd started your plan you couldn't stop it

so when you 'cut your finger off' and screamed for Mikey you didn't have time to yell "wait it's a prank!" before Donnie caught a glimpse of the scene and fainted

In your defence you didn't know the purple turtle could move that fast

And to Mikey's relief he was going to throw that cutting board out anyways

Splinter explicitly banned the two of you from pranking each other after that incident

Donatello

Per your own common sense you had come to the conclusion that pranking the families resident genius was a horribly stupid idea

So for once, you'd practiced some self control and refrained from any pranks involving Donnie

Now that's not to say that the turtle vowed from aiming any pranks towards you

He had morals but messing with you walked the line separating adorable from batshit crazy

And he was all for it

April advised against it severely and even Splinter seemed to think it wasn't the best idea, but that was a lesson his son had to learn on his own

On the flip side, the second Casey heard about Donnie's plan he was all for it

So when you came over for dinner they both had to hide their excited smiles as Casey passed you your spaghetti

He knew it was your favorite

Everyone else was oblivious, which looking back on it was a very bad thing

April had her suspicions that Donnie was pulling something this evening, but she couldn't put her finger on it

That wasn't until you swirled a mouthful of noodles around your fork and shoved it into your mouth, you were starving

Here lies your predicament-

You swallowed thickly and blinked like you were in pain, your hand went to your throat and you reached for your water, ending up chugging almost the entire bottle.

Your eyes met Donnie's in a serious type of concern

"Is there hot sauce in this?"

April choked on her breadstick and quickly covered her mouth

Casey hadn't picked up on it yet

"Awh yeah- how'd you figure it out so quickly?"

You erupted in a coughing fit that sent April rushing to your side before you could tumble to the floor

"You fucking assholes! Y/N has a capsaicin allergy! Casey go start the car we need to get them to the hospital!"

On the bright side you were fine after you were rushed to the ER

But you didn't speak to Donnie or Casey for two weeks following the accident

You eventually forgave them for it and they haven't targeted you since

Sorry if it got a little dark at the end, but I felt like it was more realistic. Also that has actually happened to me but it was a nut allergy (and that's how I found out I was allergic to cashews) But I feel like the ending was a good example of how pranking someone can go horribly wrong, you should always consider the possibilities before doing something that could cause harm to a person. (Unless they really really deserve it)

I really enjoyed writing this one and I hope you guys like it as much as I do! 😁🧡👍

-Mars 🌠

[dadsbongos]

good heart

Movie/Game/Show: The Devil All the Time Dynamic: Arvin Russell/Reader Warnings: use of the daddy word but it’s purely platonic, sacrilege, post-canon, proofread but i am illiterate, fem pronouns Summary: Arvin knows he wants more, but he won’t let himself run for it. ~~~

Arvin slides onto the nearest stool he can find at the counter without looking around too much, peeling off his hat and holding it tight to the shiny surface with both fists. He keeps his head low and waits for a waitress to approach him.

“You want anything or you just getting out of the sun?” a voice teases from behind the counter.

His head lifts and he offers a fracture of a polite smile and nod, “Just a black coffee, ma’am. Please.”

“‘Ma’am’” you repeat as you write down the order, “You’re awful formal, don’t you think?”

“Sorry, ma’am.”

“Oh, no, you don’t gotta apologize for anything,” you awkwardly offer a smile, “I just tease sometimes, sorry ‘bout that.”

“Now, how many times have I told you to stop that,” an older man chides from the kitchen, “Bring that poor boy’s order over and stop messin’ with people.”

“Sorry, daddy,” you mutter, turning to hand over the ticket with Arvin’s measly order.

The man takes the paper and squints to read it, shaking his head before turning to the brunette boy at the counter, “Sorry ‘bout her. Gets bored around here.”

Arvin finally glances around the whole room and sees that the diner is empty of customers except for him.

He shakes his head and gives a slight grin, “Don’t worry none, sir. Just a rough few days, is all - nothin’ wrong with your daughter havin’ fun.”

He’s waved off by the older man and you soon return to Arvin’s front with a bounce in your step at his words, “Thanks for backin’ me up, stranger.”

“Just the truth,” Arvin murmurs, looking around the barren diner once again, “Slow day, huh?”

He internally cringes at the awkward starter but resolves to let it slide when you light up at the branch.

“Yeah, it’s Sunday service hours, ya know. Don’t get too many people willing to skip a meetin’ with the Lord for scrambled eggs and coffee.”

Lenora and Emma would be at service by now. Lenora would be praying with her neighbors and family by now. She loved services.

A bell dings before Arvin can claw out a subpar response and you’re making a trip to the little window between the kitchen and sitting area before carrying back a breakfast of toast, eggs, and coffee.

“Oh, I can’t- “

“On the house,” you wink, pushing the plate towards Arvin, “Don’t gotta eat it if you don’t want, but Daddy likes makin’ the effort to feed people,” leaning over and whispering so your father can’t hear, you let him in on a secret, “He looks mean but he’s got a real soft spot for people like you.”

He quirks a brow, picking up a fork to poke at his eggs, “Strays?”

You roll your eyes at the suggestion, “People who look like they need a good meal. He’s old but he reads people real well. I can take it back, if you don’t want it.”

“No!” he recoils and his face sours at the volume of his own voice, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you shrug, “Gotten a lot worse from customers for a lot less.”

Arvin finishes off a bite of toast before asking, “People yell at you often?”

Again, you merely shrug, “Polite young men like you ain’t exactly common around here.”

“Who could do that? You seem mighty fine,” Arvin shakes his head, “I don’t know you real well, ma’am, but somethin’ ‘bout that don’t rub me the right way.”

“Not much I can do ‘bout it. Daddy kicks ‘em out fast as he can but it ain’t like he’s always listenin’ out for people who don’t like his daughter.”

“What if I could get ‘em out?”

“What? You plan on sittin’ in a slow diner just waitin’ for people to get rough with little ol’ me?”

“Sad as it may sound, ma’am, I don’t got a lot goin’ on. ‘Sides,” Arvin shovels up more eggs on his fork, “your daddy ain’t a bad cook.”

You weren’t actually expecting Arvin to come back the next day. Or the one after that. Or the one after that. Or even the week later. But he did, just like he said he would - he came back and made sure nobody gave you a hard time. He wasn’t the tallest or the most muscular, but nobody could deny the intimidation Arvin could give out. He seemed like he’d seen more than most men his age. Seemed like he’d done a lot more than a lot of men his age. After a day you asked his name, he panicked and said Eugene just in case either of you knew of the sins living in Arvin Russell.

After a mere week of him coming around, your father offered him a job at the diner. He’d take the floor while you had the counter, and if the floor wasn’t busy he’d be on call for anything else needed. After a month, you asked where he was staying and found out he had nowhere to really go and he felt guilt claw at his chest that night when he wound up sleeping in your father’s bed with your father on the couch.

But he seemed sweet on you, calling you darlin’ in that backwoods drawl of his - offering to carry dishes when he saw you struggling. Offering to take over your position if you seemed overwhelmed. Helped your father around the diner and in the house, kept you company, kept out people who threw fits in the diner. Never made a fuss, never made himself difficult.

He didn’t give out his real name until a few months into his staying. His legs bouncing under the counter with nerves and hands gripping the surface for any sort of purchase. By now he figured you and your father would have some sort of attachment to him, maybe he wouldn’t have to explain his past - maybe both of you already knew. Maybe you’d turn him in. Maybe you’d understand. Maybe he could stay.

Please, Lord, let him stay.

It was after closing hours, leaving just the three of you as he spilled all the weight looming over his guilt-wracked mind. Telling you both - he wasn’t born as Eugene. He was born as Arvin.

“Russell, ain’t that right?”

He wants to dig himself a hole and die in it with how your father looks at him. Judging and waiting. Spying and predatory. It reminds him of those woods. It reminds him of the sheriff.

“How many people have you told?” he’s surprised by how you reach across the table so quickly to grab his hands and hold them in your own.

“Just you two…”

“You shot that reverend. Suspected on a sheriff. We heard about you,” your father’s voice is cold and he wishes he could go back by mere seconds and never tell either of you who he was.

He didn’t want to go to prison. He wasn’t a bad person, he had good reason. He knows he had good reason but the bodies piled up and he felt his chances at getting out of this diner in anything but handcuffs slip away. He knows any chance he had at companionship with anyone other than his own head were burnt to ash.

“Why’d you do it?”

His attention is brought back to you at your shockingly soft tone when asking the question, he purses his lips, “It’s gonna sound like a lie, but I swear that none of those people were any good.”

“Arvin,” you lean towards him slightly to make eye contact, “I wanna believe that, I do. But you’ve gotta explain yourself more than that.”

He lets himself find comfort in your sincere expression for a few seconds longer before looking to your father and then back to you, “That preacher - he, he - he hurt my sister. Real bad. She… she killed herself cuz a’ him. And the sheriff chased me ‘round after I…” he shook his head, clenching his eyes shut at how ridiculous he sounded, “They weren’t no good, I promise you. I swear it.”

“Arvin, why’d you kill the sheriff?” you pat his cheek gently, “Why was he chasin’ you? Was it over the preacher?”

“No, I- I shot his sister. And her husband,” he opens his eyes in time to see that your father has come closer and he wishes he never opened his mouth, “They were tryin’ to kill me. I swear it. They took me into their car, said they’d give me a ride but they- they stopped and I saw him pull out a gun and I knew they were up to no good and I had to protect myself. I didn’t wanna do it, I didn’t want- I didn’t want any a’ this,” he looks away from your father and back to you, tears now springing in his eyes, “I didn’t wanna hurt anybody… I didn’t wanna kill them… I’m not a bad person, I swear.”

You wipe away his tears, “Arvin, I wanna believe you, I do. But I also know you know this is a lot to take in, right?” you look back at your father as if silently asking where to go next.

He pulls you away from Arvin and stares down at the young man as if he could physically read whether he was lying or not. Arvin wishes he was looking at you again, he felt more comfortable when he was looking at you. He felt more comfortable with his hands in yours. He wants his hands in yours.

“If I was you,” he begins, “If my sister was hurt however bad yours was, I know that I’d kill that man. If anyone did what that man did to make your sister take her own life to my sister or, God forbid, my daughter, I know that I’d kill that man. I know that if someone tried taking me outta this world, I’d kill them too,” he nodded to himself, weathered and wrinkled hands splaying out on the table, “I’ve never killed anybody with these hands, Arvin. But if I think you’re lying for a second, they just might have to.”

“Daddy,” you pitch in over your father’s shoulder nervously, “what’re you sayin’?”

“I believe you, Arvin. I believe you’re a good kid, I believe you wouldn’t hurt someone without a damn good reason. You’re good to us and you do good work here. I believe you’re tellin’ the truth,” he looks into the young man’s eyes, “If you ain’t, and you’re lying to me, then I hope the Lord makes you see our faces every time you close those eyes.”

“I ain’t lyin’, sir, I promise,” Arvin shakes his head, growing desperate as tears pool at his waterline, he just wants one of you to say it - just say he’s okay. Say he can stay. He can stay here with you. Say he’s okay.

He just wants to be okay.

Your father leaves wordlessly, retreating to the kitchen, lights flickering as he began the routine clean-up for the night and preparation for an early tomorrow. Arvin turns to you in the growing silence, you’re a blotchy outline with the tears gathering in his eyes.

“D’you believe me?”

You come around the counter and reach out, taking Arvin’s head and pressing it to your chest, just over your heart. Gently removing his hat and placing it on the counter, your fingers begin carding through Arvin’s messy hair, “I believe you, Arvin. The man you’ve been to me is not somebody who’d go around hurtin’ people, I believe you.”

He swallows at the lump in his throat, eyes falling closed and hands grounding themselves in your work uniform, “Thank you, darlin’. Thank you, thank you, thank you...”

“You’re safe here, Arvin. We won’t tell nobody, I promise.”

Your voice is more comforting to him than the thought of any eternal bliss waiting outside this life. He wants to protect it - protect you. He wants to stay.

“Can I stay…” he turns his head to press his face into the cloth of your uniform as if that’d prevent any upcoming rejection, “Can I stay, darlin’?”

“You can stay, Arvin,” you murmur, continuing to run your fingers through his hair, “I want you to stay.”

Arvin kept himself wound around you for as long as you’d let him hold on, and you were content enough to keep him in your arms until your father was finished with his routine in the kitchen.

“Ready to head home now?”

“I’m goin’ too?” Arvin pulled away from you just enough to not muffle his reply, eyebrows furrowed, “I’m still stayin’ with you both?”

“Arvin,” you cupped his cheeks to direct his eyes with yours, a small smile just peeking at your lips, “We believe you’re good. Of course, you’re comin’ home with us. We love you, Arvin.”

Your father nodded quietly, patting the boy’s shoulder before walking past you both, “I’ll start up the car, so hurry up. We got an early mornin’ tomorrow.”

It was in the dead of night later on that Arvin found himself still unable to relax. His eyes wide open and fingers nervously tapping at his stomach through the comforter on what used to be your father’s bed. What if you both were tricking him at the diner and there’ll be a police officer out in the front lawn by morning? What if you were at the station turning him in right now and he’s actually all alone in this house?

That thought has him springing up from the bed and down the small hall to where your bedroom door is shut. He feels guilty doubting the sincerity you’d shown but his brain won’t rest and his heart refuses to calm down. He knows he could never blame you for giving him up but he needs you in his life now that he has you.

He curls around the doorknob and pushes open until he’s fully inside. He can just make out your figure in bed within the darkness, his eyes hurrying to adjust to the night.

Creeping to the side of your bed, Arvin hesitates but ultimately shakes you awake anyway, “Darlin’?”

You hum and groan and rub your eyes until you’re fully awake with Arvin at your side, “What’re you doin’ up? Didn’t you hear daddy? We gotta be up early tomorrow.”

“I can’t sleep, I- I keep worryin’.”

At the admission, you’re sitting up and bringing a hand over Arvin’s, “‘Bout what?”

“D’you really trust me, or was that just an act back at the diner?”

“I believe you,” you make room on the bed and drag Arvin into it, coddling him to your body, “I know you’re good. I’ve known you for a long while now. It’ll take a bit to get used to, but I know you’re a good man. I love that you’re a good man.”

You’ve gotten so close to saying what he wants to hear, he could almost pretend it’s what you’d said. He could almost pretend he heard you say you love him - he likes to pretend that’s what he heard. But he knows he doesn’t deserve that love - he just needs to protect what he has now rather than strive for more.

“Thank you for believin’ me, darlin’.”

“I’ll believe you ‘til the end, Arvin. I know you’re good.”

He feels comforted, once again, by those words - by your words. He feels comforted by your hold and he hopes that this is a safe place to lie until his bones give out - if you’ll let him. He knows what he wants is to have and hold and cherish this home you’ve given him both in the form of a roof over his head and the spot between your arms but he has to remind himself that what he needs is to just protect you. At least until you decide his sinful heart is worthy of loving with yours.

[bluefirewrites]

‘Wake Up’

May have been inspired by WandaVision...

********

Julie rolled out of bed that morning in high spirits. Despite having to wake up early for school, she had a bright smile on her face the moment the alarm rang. 

She went for her closet but, as she passed the mirror, was quite confused to find herself already wearing the outfit she was planning to wear. 

Strange. 

But she still opened the door to her closet, sliding her hangers around to find her jacket while humming some nonsense tune. Every few articles or so she sifts through, Julie would keep coming across a white shirt. 

“Sunset Curve?” she read the logo aloud, not sure why that sounded so familiar... 

She didn’t think any of it.

Her jacket was right next to this white shirt she didn’t remember owning. 

Shrugging it on, she ran downstairs were Carlos was already going on to her dad and her aunt about whatever this week’s obsession was. 

“I’m telling you dad, there’s proof!” 

Her dad laughed as he cooked breakfast (or more like burnt it...), “Whatever you say, mijo,” 

“What is it this time?” Julie groaned, already picking up a banana from the bowl, forgoing whatever mess her dad was making in the kitchen. 

Carlos was already by her side, shoving his tablet in her face, “I saw it online! These guys went into this house at like 3AM and caught a ghost on camera! A ghost!” 

She didn’t so much glance down on the screen, already dismissing her brother’s words, but before she could open her mouth, a new voice butted in their conversation, coming from the front door. 

“Oooh a ghost? Now that’s interesting...” 

“Luke!” Julie beamed at the arrival of her boyfriend and their two friends, who had just walked in. 

He waltzed over, dumping his backpack onto the couch, and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, “Mornin’, Jules. Now what’s this I hear about ghosts?” 

Reggie pushed past Alex, who was still kicking his shoes off in the foyer, “Oooh. Show me!” he said excited, huddled over Carlos’ tablet, “Woah. That’s creepy!” 

“Do not encourage him, Carlos,” Alex finally made it to the table, “Reggie’s convinced aliens are real too.” 

“They are real!” 

“Just cuz you watch Star Wars-” 

“-Not because of Star Wars! Ask NASA-” 

“-Wh-okay. I just go and ask NASA-?” 

“-Yes. Just go and ask-” 

Luke rolled his eyes at his friends’ arguing. He reached over and picked up a piece of overcooked bacon on Carlos’ place. He took a bite. 

Julie’s eyebrows furrowed at the sight. 

“You can eat?” 

Luke raised one of his own, finishing off the bacon, “Yeah. Of course. Why? Am I not supposed to?” he joked. 

“Yes,” Julie found herself saying, “You can’t... you’re not...” 

She stopped. 

She didn’t even know what she was going to say next. 

“Julie!” 

She looked up, not realizing that she had been staring off into space, “Yes, Alex?” 

The blonde wrapped his arm around her shoulder, “Back me up here, would you? And tell this guy” he points to Reggie, who stuck his tongue at them, “that ghosts (and aliens) aren’t real.” 

“Um... er...” 

Julie... couldn’t answer that. Finding the question, and this conversation, completely absurd. 

Luckily she was saved from answering when her two besties rounded the corner, talking animatedly between each other. 

She didn’t remember hearing them come in... 

“Julie!” Carrie chirped, hugging her from behind, “Love you. Good morning, but we have a situation.” 

“What’s up?” 

Flynn settled next to her on the table, “We need a band to play at the dance this week. I’m DJ-ing of course. But we need like a killer closer.”

“But I thought Dirty Candy-?” 

“We can’t,” Carrie interrupted, and that was all she could explain, “Any chance Julie and the Phantoms could fill in?” 

“A school dance?” Luke grimaced, “Not exactly the Strip...” 

Julie couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of deja vu when she heard him say that... 

“I don’t know,” a woman’s voice carried over, appearing behind Ray, “You gotta start somewhere right? Build a following?” 

Julie nodded, “Mom’s right.” 

“She always is,” Ray remarked before kissing his wife, making Carlos gag but making Julie feel...

...sad. 

There was something so bittersweet about this moment, but Julie couldn’t put her finger on it. Even when she stood up and hugged her mom, something was telling her... to not let go. Not even for a second. 

“What’s wrong, Julie?” she asked, realizing that they have yet to break their hug. 

Julie blinked away tears that started to form against her better judgement. 

She pulled away, straining a smile, “Nothing. Mom.”

Julie took a look around the room, where all her loved ones were watching her with fondness in their eyes. Her gaze lingered on the three teenage boys, her boyfriend Luke among them- her boyfriend of... how many months? Years? 

Weird. She couldn’t remember how long they had been together. 

She shook her head to rid of that slightly distressing thought. And she took in the room again. 

“Nothing’s wrong...” she reiterated aloud, “Actually, everything’s... perfect.” 

Her mom beamed at her, rubbing her shoulder, “Glad to hear it. Now I think we should all get some breakfast before we send you kids off to school.”

Suddenly, Julie was back at the table, that had somehow grew in length and had just enough chairs for everyone. 

Looking down, she was surprised to find a yummy looking breakfast, completely different from what her father had cooked before...

Julie lifted the forkful of fluffy looking pancakes to her mouth when she heard the doorbell ring. 

Everyone froze. 

Julie did too. 

She turned to Luke, who clenched his jaw staring at the front door. In fact, everyone had stopped what they were doing to stare at the door, acting like the ringing was some sort of... hindrance... 

“Um... is anyone gonna get that?” she asked tentatively, put off by everyone’s reactions... 

“Why?” Victoria said, voice cold, “Everyone that’s supposed to be here is here.” 

“I know but-” 

The doorbell rang again. And Julie made the move to get up. 

“Hey,” Luke uttered softly, hand holding hers, “Just ignore it. They’ll go away. Let’s finish our food-” 

“You can’t eat,” Julie blurted out again, which only upset Luke more.  

His grip on her tightened, “Yes... I can.” 

The doorbell kept ringing. In short intervals, repeating in an almost desperate pattern. 

Her curiosity got the better of her. Julie wrenched her hand away from Luke’s hold and practically ran to the door, much to the loud protests of everyone. 

“Don’t!” 

“Julie, get back here right now!” 

“It could be important!” she shouted back at them, hand on the handle and opening. 

A guy with long hair and a hoodie was standing there. His eyes had a frenzied look to them, he kept taking short, ragged breaths- all in all he looked like hell. 

Eyes widened and hands already on her shoulders, “Julie! You got to listen to me-” 

“Who even-?” 

“Don’t fall for it, Julie. We have to-” 

The strange boy tried pulling her along, but she stood her ground. 

“I don’t- I don’t know you.” 

The boy sighed, kept looking wildly around himself, “You- you don’t have to. He’s gonna find-” 

“She said she doesn’t know you,” Alex was now by her side, staring down the stranger, “What seems to be the problem here?” 

The stranger stumbled backwards, eyes widening, “A-Alex?” 

“You know him?” Julie gaped at the stranger. 

“Yes- I mean, no.” The guy shook his head furiously, “No! That’s not- That’s not Alex, Julie!” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He’s not real! This isn’t- this isn’t real. It’s all in your head,” 

Julie shook her head, “No. That’s not- this has to be, Willie.” 

The guy straightened up. 

“Yes. Yes! That’s me!” 

How- how did she know his name? But once it spilled out.. it felt right. 

It was the only thing that had felt... right. So far. 

The guy- Willie, took her by the hand again, and this time Julie wasn’t wary. She sort of wanted to follow him. 

“Look, we don’t have much time before he figures out what I escaped-” 

“Escape? He-?” 

“But we need to get you out of here. We need to-” 

“William?” 

Willie whirled around and a man stood there. In a dress shirt, holding a cane. 

“No.... no,” Willie held his arm out in front of Julie... as if he was trying to protect her, “Caleb. Stop this right now! Let her go, you psycho!” 

The man, Caleb, smiled a sickly sweet smile, “Now that isn’t a way to speak to your old man, is it?” 

“What-?” 

Julie blinked and Willie faced her now, cleaned up and wearing new clothes, clothes more... befitting for the time. He stood next to Caleb, who had an almost death-like grip on the boy’s shoulder. 

“Apologies for that, miss,” Caleb greeted, “My son and I just moved in next door.” 

Willie wiggled under the Caleb’s hold, “You’re not my-!” 

“Anyways, it’s nice to make your acquaintance...?” 

“Julie,” she said, eyes on Willie the whole time. He appeared to be afraid. 

And somehow Julie knew that she should be afraid too..

She was slowly stepping backwards into the house, “Nice to meet you... But I have to go-” 

“Ah yes, get back to breakfast. Hopefully no more...” The glanced down at Willie, “interruptions.” 

“Right,” She was already inside, ready to close the door... she didn’t like how Caleb looked at her. She wanted him gone. 

“We’ll be making our leave now. Have a lovely morning, Julie,” 

With that Caleb was dragging Willie by the scruff of his shirt down her steps, the boy kept bucking trying to escape. 

“Julie! Julie!” he kept calling out to her, “You need to get out!” 

“Quiet, you!” Caleb hissed. 

Julie’s heart beat rapidly, hands shaking the doorknob, “What-? H-how?” 

“Wake up!” 

Wake up. 

Wake up?

“... if it’s all you do...” she sang softly, the words coming out along with the melody that she had been humming earlier. 

Both Caleb and Willie stopped. 

“No,” the man uttered, “Stop that.” he ordered. 

Willie grinned, “Yes. Julie! Snap out of it!” 

“Look out, look inside of you...” 

Julie turned her head, Alex was no longer next to her, back with everyone in the kitchen, who stared at her in disbelief. Her mom had rose from the table, telling her to stop. 

That made Julie’s blood run cold. 

Her mom. 

She would never... she would never to tell her to stop singing. Especially not with this song. This song that she had written for her before... before she-

Julie gasped in realization. “You’re dead.” 

Luke got up, making his way towards her, “Julie, what are you talking about?” 

She backed up, “No. You’re dead too!” 

This wasn’t real... 

None of this was real. 

She had to leave. 

This wasn’t- this wasn’t what was supposed to happen... 

Emboldened by the revelation, she kept singing, “It's not what you lost... It's what you'll gain raising your voice in the rain...” 

The house, her house, began fading away, replaced with any inky blackness that gave Julie more relief upon seeing it. 

She could hear Caleb shouting at her, and Willie’s encouragement to keep doing what she was doing. “It’s working! It’s working!” 

“Wake up your dream and make it true... Look out, look inside of you...” 

One by one, her friends, her family started to fade too, getting lost in the darkness.. 

Her eyes met her mom’s, and she almost stopped.

But no. 

Her mom wasn’t there. She was already gone... 

Swallowing hard, shutting her eyes, she... kept going... “It's not what you lost... Relight that spark, time to come out of the dark...” 

She took a deep breath...

“...Wake up...” 

When she opened her eyes, she found herself tied to a chair in some luxurious looking office. Jazz music playing faintly in the background. 

Caleb glowered at her from his place behind the desk. 

The memories came flooding back to her. 

The flowers, Nick- 

Poofing. 

To the club. She was in the Hollywood Ghost Club. 

She had been there for hours. 

Julie struggled in her bindings as Caleb stalked over to her menacingly, “Now, now, now. You shouldn’t have done that.” 

“Where’s-” she looked around, “Where’s Willie? How did he-?” 

“Somehow he had found a way out of his little holding cell and came up here to cause some trouble...” he knelt down in front of her, “I’ll make sure that won’t happen again.” 

Julie scowled at him, wanting to slap the smug grin off the ghost’s face, “Again?” 

He wagged a finger at her, “You need to be preoccupied, my dear Julie. While I figure out a way to relinquish your hold on those boys.” 

“I told you, I don’t even know!” 

“Ah, but there is a way to break it. I will find out. And since you’re here” he procured a velvet bag from his back pocket, “the boys would come running in trying to save you.” 

The perfect trap... 

Julie wanted so badly to tell Caleb off, to tell him that they wouldn’t fall for it. 

But they would come barging in to come get her no hesitation. They had risked everything for her before. 

And they would do it again. 

“Now,” Caleb stuck his hand inside the bag and gathered up some purple dust, “We’ll do this one more time. And don’t fight it,” 

Her eyes widened, realizing what was happening. She squirmed some more, but to no use, “No no no-” 

“You should be grateful. I could have easily made it... unpleasant,” 

“I’ll find a way out!” 

“Let’s see how you fare without Willie’s help,” 

Then Caleb blew the powder into the face. And her eyes fluttered closed. 

“Nighty night...” she heard him say before it all went black. 

****

Julie jerked, hunched over her plate of breakfast. 

She felt Luke’s hand on her back, “Are you okay, Julie?” 

Lifting her head, she saw her loved ones laughing with each other, enjoying the morning. The sunlight dancing behind their heads, and her mom- 

She lifted her cup of orange juice in her direction, smiling before taking a sip. 

Julie nodded, “Yeah... I’m fine.” 

“Something wrong?” 

“Uh... no.” she said, ignoring that nagging feeling in the back of her head, “Actually everything’s great.” 

Luke smiled at her, “I’m glad. Now, pancakes?” 

“Right,” she smiled back at him. 

Then she dug into her breakfast, marveling at how good it all tasted. 

Yes, it tasted perfect. 

Everything was just... perfect. 

[90sgrungelouis]

regarding louis and niall's selfie war today and seeing liam's selfie yesterday, i feel like we should settle something once and for all. we have to decide who takes selfies the best. lets go.

first up its everyone's favorite soft boyfriend, niall horan. he deserves first place, and here's why.

exhibit a. look at the composition! the emotion! the tousled hair and blue eyes and scruff! his face is in full view, he's holding the camera up at a good angle, he knows how to take selfies! a master. 10/10

exhibit b. just posted today! another example of his selfie prowess. look at the blue eyes, the angle, the smoulder. he has a cup of coffee in his hand and guitars in the background, and it paints a whole story. i'd wager niall doesnt even have a bad selfie. 100% all natural home grown baby. thats why he's number one.

anyway, onto number two. thats, you guessed it, liam payne everybody!!

starting off with this beauty. listen. this is a man that KNOWS his stuff. you just know that he has several different camera rigs and that he uses a self timer. major art student aesthetic vibes. 100/10.

and this one!!!! what a masterpiece!! he KNOWS his angles he KNOWS his emotion he KNOWS how to work the lighting. the rainbow? chefs kiss but in bold. he's just second place because i found more professional pictures on his insta than natural selfies which like, u do u baby, but not in this competition yknow? i love u mwah

next up we have mr zayn malik. in third place??? yes yes. let me explain.

so we have these selfies at first right? beautiful! reminiscent of an angel baby lamb. the curly soft hair, the composition of the picture, the angles he uses. 10/10. but THEN.

we have this one. honey baby what is u DOIN. this selfie has NO flavor. none. the angle is all wrong, the lighting is garbage, hes not even making eye contact with the camera. and its not even a square picture!! i had to dock major points for this one. 3/10. he has some good ones, and some bad ones. which is a shame because as we all know, zayn is the most beautiful human in the world by law. anyway.

next up in fourth place, we have louis tomlinson. LISTEN. before y'all start coming at me with pitch forks, it has to be said. someone's gotta be brave enough to say it and im gonna do it. louis doesnt take good selfies. do i still freak out whenever he posts another selfie? of course. do i feel my life force returning whenever he deigns to grace us with another picture of his handsome face? obviously, every time. but we HAVE to face the facts. let me show you.

some of them are good!! some of them are A+. his 28, his little hoodie, his eyes, the scruff. all beautiful. gorgeous right?

but listen to me.

is👏this👏your👏king👏????? IS IT???? tell me right now, look me in the face and tell me that thats not just the 'do you have games on your phone' angle for every single selfie. wheres the spice? where are the angles, the lighting, the emotion?? louis. i love you. you know this. you also have MANY young siblings. please, im begging you, take your grandpa butt and ask one of them to teach you how to take a good selfie because i for one am done with suffering in silence. this is my truth and im going to live it.

and in fifth place, you might have figured it out!!!! harry styles baby. he's in fifth just cuz he literally NEVER takes selfies and thats an automatic disqualification except for the fact that we got this one recently, and-

well. i dont really think this one needs an explanation.

and those are my rankings folks, please exit to the left, thank you for your time. any questions can be directed to ot5 themselves. goodnight.

[my-unmanageable-mischief]

Since Forever

For girl-who-likes-cold-bois who requested Hello love! Could I get a fic where Draco is like very jealous and overprotective of the reader because they are childhood bestfriends? friends to lovers? I love me some pining lol. Maybe the reader starts dating some other guy and Draco is clearly bothered my it? Maybe the reader doesn’t realize it’s because Draco actually likes her? thanks <3

 Draco Malfoy x Reader

“Why is he looking at you?” Draco sneered, glaring over your shoulder. You shoved a mouthful of food into your mouth and looked up at him, raising both your eyebrows. 

“Hmm?” Draco merely continued glaring over your shoulder, you swallowed, and glanced in the direction he was shooting daggers. A Ravenclaw boy in your year was looking your way, when he met your eye he smiled softly and offered up a small wave. You waved back before turning back to Draco who was seething across from you at the table. 

“Why did you just wave at him?” He questioned and you laughed, resting your head on hand as you looked at you best friend since diapers. 

“Because he’s cute? And he waved first?” Draco huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Well he’s a git.” 

“So are you,” You laughed and he glared at you momenaily before his gaze softened. 

“Come on, Y/N, you can do better than that.” 

“Alright, you’re a wanker,” You offered and he rolled his eyes. 

“No not with insults. I mean with... boys. He’s hardly worth your time.” You rolled your eyes at him, shaking your head. 

“And pray tell Draco, who is worth my time?” He wanted to tell you no one was, that you were worth more then anyone else in this pathetic castle but instead he just offered up a small shrug, averting his gaze back to the boy who had waved at you, continuing to glare. You reached across the table and poked his cheek causing him to go slightly rosy. 

“Keep that up and your face will be stuck like that, love.” He swatted at your hand, frowning. He liked when you called him sweet names. Not that he would ever admit it to you, or anyone for that matter. 

“I’m full,” He decided, placing his fork down, “Do you want to go back to the common room? We can do that transfiguration essay?” He offered and you nodded your head, taking one more bite of food.

“Sure,” 

  You sat in your study hall period with Draco, heads together as you worked on an assignment. You weren’t fully focusing, occasionally glancing around the room of students. Your eyes would occasionally land on the Ravenclaw boy, Sam, sometimes you’d make eye contact and smile at each other. Draco finally figured out what you kept smiling at and moved, trying to place himself between your gaze and the other boy. 

“What?” He asked, when you stared at him disapprovingly. You sighed, shaking your head. 

“Nothing.” Draco frowned, he hated seeing you upset, especially when he was the one who made you so. 

“He’s not even that cute, Y/N,” He mumbled dejectedly. You smirked slightly and shook your head. 

“Draco, come on, he’s soo cute,” You argued lightly. And he made a disgruntled noise, shifting in his seat. 

“You can do better than him, Y/N,” Draco reminded you again and you sat back in your seat, gazing at him. 

“Like who?” You prodded and he wouldn’t look at you, “Like who Draco?” He looked like he was going to answer you when you were interrupted. 

“Hello, Y/N,” It was Sam, you looked up at him, smiling, Draco glared darkly at him. 

“Hello Sam.”

“Alright?”

“She’s fine,” Draco answered for you, and you both glanced at him, Sam slightly worried, you slightly annoyed. 

“I’m good, and capable of answering myself, thanks, how are you?” You asked, eyeing Draco, daring him to keep this up. 

“I’m good!” He assured, smiling shyly, “I was just wondering if you’d like to come to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?” He asked, and you smiled while Draco began to seethe beside you. 

“She has plans,” He muttered and you shot him another look. 

“No I don’t, I’d love to Sam.” He nodded, glancing at Draco nervously again. 

“Brilliant, I will see you Saturday then,” 

“See ya,” He walked away, back to sit with his friends and you turned on your friend in front of you.

“What’s your issue?” You snapped. 

“We always go to Hogsmeade together,” He whined and you shook your head. 

“That’s not ‘plans’, Draco, those are lack of plans.”

“He’s a git, Y/N, probably only wants to get in your knickers, I’m looking out for you.” You felt your face heat up with anger. You slammed your book shut and shoved it into your bag. His eyes widened. “Y/N-”

“Shut up,” You huffed, “Can you think before you speak?” You questioned and he shook his head. 

“You know I don’t,” He tried to make you smile, or laugh, or anything besides being mad at him but it wasn’t working. 

“Just because you don’t think I’m worth more than a shag, doesn’t mean every boy things that way.” His eyes widened. 

“That is not what I meant!” You grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder before storming from the room, in the direction of your common room. You spent the next two days annoyed with your best friend, but that didn’t last. It never did, and you were back to normal by Friday. 

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” Draco asked, sitting on the sofa in the common room as you rested your feet in his lap. You looked up from your book with a frown. 

“You know I’m going with Sam.” 

“You’re still into that bloke?”

“He hasn’t given me a reason to not like him, Draco.” He merely shrugged, glancing at you. 

“You know I’m just trying to look out for my girl.” You smiled gently and sat up, wrapping him in a hug. 

“I know, but I’m a big girl, Draco. You gotta let me make my own decisions.” Draco hugged you back briefly before pulling away, patting your head as he did. 

“You’ll always be my best friend, and I’ll always be older. It’s my job to look after you.” You chuckled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. 

“You’re sweet.” 

  Hogsmeade was fun for the first half, you didn’t even notice your shadow following you around. Draco kept far back, watching the two of you, making sure Sam didn’t try any funny business. All was going well until about 2 pm. A group of Sam’s friends found you in the Three Broomsticks and joined you briefly before telling the boy they were going back to the castle. 

“Come with us, Sam.” Sam grinned and then his face fell slightly as he remembered you were there. He glanced at you and you shrugged, hiding a frown and look of hurt as you took a sip of your butterbeer. 

“You don’t mind do you? I mean, I didn’t really feel much of a spark anyways.” Not much of a spark? You shrugged again. 

“Do whatever you’d like.” He smiled and nodded and just like that Sam and his friends were gone and you were sitting alone in the Three Broomsticks. You sipped your butterbeer again and kept your eyes on your lap for several long moments. Someone sat down across from you and you looked up expecting to see Sam, but were met by Draco. 

“Hullo, darling,” He greeted, “Sam in the loo,” He asked but his voice was oddly gentle. You let out a long breath of air, shaking your head. You didn’t want to tell Draco he had ditched you for his mates, you didn’t want to see his smug look or hear his I told you so. “What’s wrong?” He asked, voice lowering. Draco had seen that idiot and his friends leaving without you in sight. He watched them leave and then had gone in to find you. But you didn’t need to know that. 

“He left with his mates.” You finally admitted sofly, “Said he didn’t feel a spark, whatever that means.” Draco didn’t smirk, he didn’t look smug, or tell you he told you. He simply looked at you with concern and mild annoyance. 

“That arse hat. Want me to go hex him?” He asked, trying to get you to look at him, “Hey, Y/N.” You made eye contact, “He’s literally nothing compared to you, mud on the bottom of your shoe.” You smiled slightly and nodded before shrugging. 

“I’m not really that beat up over it, my ego is just a bit bruised.” You admitted rolling your eyes. 

“Well we can’t have that can we?” Draco asked, “Want another butterbeer?” You nodded, and just like that you were back to the only boy who was ever a constant in your life. You spent the rest of the day together, Draco attempting to reflate your ego, as he called it. Really it was just an excuse to openly compliment you more than he ever dared. Eventually, hours later you sat up in his dorm, talking and laughing. 

“Still, you’re the smartest girl at Hogwarts, Granger has nothing on you,” That made you laugh, throwing your head back. 

“Now that’s a load of shit, Draco, and you know it.” He laughed when you smacked his shoulder playfully. 

“No, no, you are! You’re better than just book smart, you’re well rounded smart. You’re smart enough in school, you’re one of the few people I’ve met with common sense, you’re emotionally intelligent and mature... usually,” You narrowed your eyes but smiled anyway, “You’re socially brilliant, and on top of all that, you’re nice to look at.” You tried to whack his shoulder again and Draco caught your hand, pulling you closer to him. 

“Oi!” You laughed, poking him in the side with your other hand, causing him to jump.

“Oi yourself!” He pulled you into him, trapping you in a hug, “I’m trying to be nice here,” He laughed and you allowed yourself to hug him back, enjoying one of those rare moments when Draco decided to iniciate physical affection. 

“You know I love you right?” He asked quietly and you pulled back to look at him suspiciously.

“What did you do,” 

“Nothing! Can’t I just be nice?” You laughed.

“No?” Draco pouted, “Oh don’t give me that face, you know I love you too.” He smiled, glancing down at his lap. 

“I more than love you.” 

“What is there more than love?” You asked curiously and he shrugged. 

“I don’t know, but that’s how I feel about you.” You smiled gently. 

“I more than love you too, you’re my best friend Draco, you always have been.” He sighed slightly and glanced at you. 

“I... I like you too.” 

“I would hope that that was implied with the love,” You joked. Draco couldn’t look at you and you got worried. 

“I like like you, Y/N.” He finally admitted, looking up, “romantically,” He added. You blanked. Draco’s face grew worried. “I’m sorry, I’m an idiot, I shouldn’t have said anything.” 

“Draco,” You calmed him with your voice, just hearing his name on your lips. “Do you really?” 

“Yes. I think I might have always.” You smiled softly at him and he wished that moment would never end, but the next moment was even better. You leaned over to him, closing the gap and placing a gentle kiss on his lips before pulling back. 

“You’re ridiculous you know that right?” Draco laughed, pulling you into again.

“You’ve mentioned it.”

[heximagines]

Jealousy pt. 3 | Bo x GN! Reader x Vincent

Here it is! Part 3! Now to just decide who reader ends up with. Hmmm... 

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2

Over the few days that followed your date with Bo, the twin had become increasingly touchy with you. It was becoming a common occurrence for him to press kisses to the top of your head when you walked past, rest his hand on your lower back, or pull you against his side on the couch. Gladly you leaned into every little touch, never noticing the pointed looks Bo would shoot Vincent whenever he was around. However you did notice that you were seeing Vincent less and less. You thought it was because he was busy at first but it had been a while since anyone came into town now.

Bo was at the station today and Vincent was still nowhere to be seen, leaving you alone in the house. You’d watched a movie, cleaned the kitchen, and patched some holes in the old walls but the day always crawled along when you were alone. When noon rolled around you decided to pay Vincent a visit. You fixed him something easy for him to eat for lunch before wrapping up the plate. You chose to take the main road through town on your way to the museum as opposed to going through the tunnels. You loved to stroll through town and admire the brothers’ work, especially when the sun was high in the sky making everything look vibrant and cheery. For just a moment you could pretend that you were a normal person living in a normal town. When you arrived on the steps of the museum you took one more look around before slipping inside. From where you stood you could hear Vincent’s music float up from between the floorboards, gentle and airy. Your lips curled up in a small smile and you took your time to weave through the exhibits, stopping to look at some of your favorite pieces and new ones. You guessed Vincent had been busy, while you didn’t notice any new figures there were more paintings and bits of furniture that hadn’t been there the last time. You paused at a portrait you thought was particularly beautiful. It featured a woman veiled in white, not quite like a bride but angelic. You tilted your head and your fingers itched to reach out and touch it but you held back. Finally you were jarred from your thoughts at the sound of footsteps coming up the hidden stairway in the next room. You turned your head to the door and waited for Vincent to appear. When he did he had another canvas cradled gently in his large hands. He started when he noticed you and fumbled with the piece but quickly regained his composure. “Sorry, Vin. Didn’t mean to scare you.” You gave him a shy smile and held up the plate. “I brought you lunch.”

Vincent had set down his newest creation and the two of you were now sitting on a Victorian style fainting couch he had recently fabricated, your knee just barely brushing his. The newest painting he brought up was very similar to the one you’d been admiring earlier and you motioned towards them. “They’re beautiful Vincent. You’re so talented.” You turned to smile at him, but Vincent wasn’t looking at you. His eye was trained firmly on the plate he was holding in his lap. You turned your whole body towards him and placed a hand on Vincent’s knee, making him jerk away. You yanked your hand back before looking up at him, confused. Sure Vincent was skittish at the best of times but he’d been acting so strange lately. He signed a quick, ‘Sorry, I need to get back to work’  before getting up to retreat back down there he’d come from. You frowned and looked at the painting he’d left abandoned where it sat. Something about it felt a bit familiar but you couldn’t quite place it.

That night when you sat at the dinner table across from Bo Vincent was still nowhere to be seen. You sat with your chin in your palm, pushing the food around your plate too lost in thought to eat. Bo’s hand slid across the table and he coaxed your’s from your chin into his own. “Somethin’ bothering ya sugar?” You gave him a half hearted smile and shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you think Vincent has been acting weird?” Bo scoffed a bit. “He’s probably just busy. He’ll come around.” Your lips twisted into a frown. “No, I don’t think that’s it... Today I went to bring him lunch and-” “Why?” He cut in, making you pause. “Huh?” Bo set his fork down and now he was frowning too. “Why did ya go and bring him lunch?” Your brows draw together and you  shake your head. “I-I don’t know. I just hadn’t seen him in a while. I thought it’d be nice.” Suddenly you were nervous. All the sweetness Bo had shown you was absent now as he pushed away from the table and stood. His chair toppled to the ground as he grabbed his plate and tossed it into the sink, food still on it. “Vincent doesn’t need you to be nice to him. He’s fine.” Slowly you stood and moved across the room to place your hands on Bo’s shoulders, rubbing soothingly. You could see how they relaxed at your touch but the underlying tenseness was still there. “Bo...” He took a deep breath and his fingers, which were gripping the edge of the sink, flexed. You gently pushed on his shoulder, making him turn towards you. “What’s going on in your head?” You combed your hands though Bo’s hair before wrapping your arms around his neck. Instinctively his own hands came to your waist, holding you tightly. “Don’t worry about it okay? And don’t worry none about Vincent. He’s just...” He bobbed his head, trying to find what he wanted to say. “Throwing a damn tantrum.” Your eyebrows shot up. Vincent was never one for outbursts, not even when visitors entered town. He was always calm, calculated. Though you supposed if he were to throw a tantrum as Bo put it this would be the way he’d go about it. “Now why would he be doing that?” He snorted and shook his head. “Because he’s not gettin’ what he wants.” You really hated it when Bo was cryptic, and it happened much more frequently than you’d expect with someone so brash. Finally he kissed your forehead and pulled away. “Just don’t worry okay? He’ll get over it. He’s just gotta.” With that Bo playfully smacked your ass. “How about you go on and relax. I got the dishes.” You weren’t ready to let this go quite yet, but you knew better than to push Bo on a subject he didn’t wanna speak about. So you relented. Besides, you weren’t eager to fish his uneaten food out of the sink anyway.

That night as you laid in bed your thoughts lingered on Vincent. The way he’d jumped away from your touch, like your fingertips scalded him, it made your chest clench uncomfortably. You knew Bo wan’t going to tell you what was up. So you’d just have to find out yourself. Quiet as a mouse you tiptoed out of your room, eyeing Bo’s closed door just across the hall. From outside you could just barely hear his gentle snores, signaling that he was in a deep sleep. You slipped down the stairs and made a beeline for the hidden staircase that would bring you down into the tunnels. When you arrived at the door of Vincent’s workshop you lingered outside, listening to the calming melody of Vivaldi maybe? You weren’t as familiar with classical artists as Vincent. You weren’t sure what you were going to say but you’d already made up your mind. Finally, you knocked softly, so softly you thought he didn’t hear you. You almost turned around and went right back to bed when the door opened an inch. You gave Vincent a shy smile and he opened the door wider. He eyed your face before signing, ‘Y/n, what’s wrong?’ You chuckled and rubbed your cheek. “That obvious huh?” Vincent tilted his head at you before opening the door wider and ushering you into his workspace. Inside it was broiling hot and the molten wax cast an orange glow over everything. Vincent pulled up a comfortable looking chair for you, patting it. You sat down and watched as Vincent moved to lean against his worktable, keeping a physical distance from you.  Anxiously you twiddled your thumbs. “Vincent I’ve been noticing that you’re acting... Well you’re just not around. And I’m just a little worried.” You looked up to watch Vincent. His shoulders hunched over and he seemed to want to look anywhere but at you. Now that you were thinking about it Vincent never avoided your gaze. If he wasn’t staring right back into your eyes while you spoke he was always sitting right in your line of sight, like he wanted you to see him. Now he looked like he wished he could disappear completely. “A-And Bo said that I should just, leave you alone and not bother you. And I don’t want to. Bother you that is. So I’m sorry if I am. I’m just... Worried... Like I said.” You wanted to kick yourself. You really should have figured out what you wanted to say and now you were just rambling on like a moron. Finally Vincent uncrossed hsi arms and lifted his hands. ‘What else did Bo say?’  You bit your lip, Vincent new his brother too well. “He, uh, he thinks you’re just... Upset. And he wouldn’t tell me why.” You phrased it as delicately as possible. Vincent nodded at that seeming to understand something that you just weren’t quite getting at yet. Slowly he came to kneel in frint of you and you smiled just a little. ‘I’m not upset with you. You know that right?’ You only gave a small shrug in response. Vincent exhaled through his nose before standing and crossing the room. He came to stop at his drawing desk, gathering up a sketchbook he flipped though the pages thoughtfully before closing it. He seemed to think for a moment before sighing again. Slowly he walked back over to you. He seemed to be dreading what was going to happen and he looked at you like he was trying to memorize every little detail. As if you were going to disappear. Vincent pulled up his own chair and sat down across from you this time. His fingers flexed around the notebook, similar to how Bo’s flexed when he was anxious. Finally he held the book out to you. You took it from him with care and waited until he nodded before you flipped it open to the first page. Your own image stared back up at you and for a moment you were awestruck. The attention to detail was amazing. As you slowly turned through the pages you could feel Vincent tensing. Until finally you found a familiar sketch. It was one of the new paintings. But now you can see the details underneath the veil he layered over them. It was your own face. Finally you closed the book and met Vincent’s eye. Everything clicked together in your head now and your heart ached for Vincent. “You made me look so... Beautiful.” ‘It’s not hard,’ his hands gestured. You smiled softly before leaning in to hug Vincent tightly. He hesitated for only a moment before pulling you in, practically crushing you in his embrace. You knew Vincent didn’t just fear rejection, he expected it. And Even though he hid it under ego and bravado Bo was exactly the same. You knew you needed to work something out soon but for now you just smoothed your hand over Vincent’s back and let him hold you until he was ready to let go.

[tonystarktogo]

Last part of the time travel crack ‘verse for now (and sorry for making you all worry about the scepter, I didn’t mean it that way, it just seemed like a good cut-off point tbh):

"The scepter! Did anyone keep an eye on the scepter?"

"I assure you," Agent Agent, who looks a little singed and has a bandage wrapped around one ear, yet continues to rock the personality-free drawl that tricks people into thinking he’s not worth paying attention to, speaks up, "that the scepter is still safely in SHIELD custody, Dr. Banner."

Banner scoffs.

Rogers grimaces.

Barton winces.

And oh, all other issues aside, the vindication of this moment is glorious. Tony feels fully justified in the doubtful look he aims at the screen. You know your show sucks balls when even your own operative doesn’t buy what you’re selling.

"That’s great," Banner says in a painfully droll voice. "But I’ll feel a lot better when we hand it over to our resident Asgardian prince for safekeeping rather than put it into a secret high-security facility and hope for the best. Like the one you stored the Tesseract in took Loki what, five minutes to take over?"

Woah, talk about burn. Tony doesn’t bother muffling his snicker. Who’d have thought Banner has it in him?

[continues under the cut]

"Hang on, wouldn’t it be better—" Rogers interrupts before Fury or Coulson can come up with an excuse, which judging by their sour-slash-carefully-blank expressions isn’t as easy as they’d like it to be.

Banner raises one hand. It shouldn’t be a power move on part with his green counterpart squashing a car in his fist, isn’t even particularly aggressive but for some reason Rogers shuts up. Immediately. The bright, eerily green eyes might have something to do with it. 

"If you’re going where I think you’re going, I advise you to reconsider," Banner growls, the vocals deep enough that Romanoff reaches for the nearest weapon. "Even setting my personal issues aside, it’s not worth the risk."

Barton sighs with what sounds less like exhaustion and more like sad resignation. "Hate to say it, Cap, but he’s right. Sending the scepter off-Earth with the Tesseract is probably the safest course of action we can take right now. We can’t count on being that lucky again."

"Agent Barton," Agent Agent’s words drip with such a pointedly polite friendliness, it’s a wonder he doesn’t spear his own tongue on it. "Please desist in trying to hand off objects that pose an immediate threat to global security to an unvetted alien who, while a valued ally, is in line for the throne of a foreign world."

And wow. Tony’s not gonna win a prize for his sensitivity any time soon, but there’s some things you just don’t say to a guy who got brainwashed into doing an alien’s bidding less than forty-eight hours ago. Going by the way Romanoff has gone rigid, she agrees.

Luckily for everyone present, Barton doesn’t bat an eye at the dig. He leans forward instead, elbows placed on his tights, the picture of relaxation. As long as you ignore the expression on his face that could possibly pass for a smile. If you catch sight of it out of the corner of your eye. Through a dirty mirror. 

"Not that I’m not glad to see you alive and well, Phil, because I am. But getting my head rolled once was already one time too many and if the Tesseract is powerful enough to draw fucking aliens to it then it’s too fucking powerful for us to protect." Barton’s voice becomes progressively lower as he continues his little not-having-any-of-your-shit rant. "More people are gonna get killed over that thing. Good people. Because we don’t have the damn resources to keep it safe. So if we gotta bet on Asgard for this, then that’s what we’re gonna fucking do because to be frank with you sir I’d rather lead the hostile aliens to a world ready for interstellar warfare than my own."

Thor straightens from where he’s been fixated on Loki for the past hour or so, trying to crawl into his brother’s skull through willpower alone by the looks of it, and dips his head in Barton’s direction. "Thank you for your faith," he says gravely, as though Barton hasn’t straight up told everyone in this room he wants to use Asgard as a shield-slash-sacrificial-offering. "I hope my people will prove worthy of it."

"Should be fine." Banner shrugs with a nonchalance Tony envies. "’s long as we take care of your murderous sibling first."

Thor winces. Loki’s face loses whatever expressiveness it had left and it already was at state zero: emotions not welcome here to begin with. 

But. Tony tilts his head. Why not just call Loki by his name? Unless, of course, Banner isn’t referring to him. But how would the infamous Hulk-slash-brilliant-scientist have gotten himself wrapped up in alien family drama? And is there a form Tony can sign? Because he hates being kept out of the loop.

"Avengers!" Fury snaps before things can get any more awkward. Which, good for him, but in Tony’s fine opinion he should have taken the win and be done with it. There’s just no winning against whatever type of madness — not to mention feelings — these people are so inconsiderately spreading inside his walls. "You’re not bartering off our best chance to defend ourselves against alien invaders, have I made myself clear? That’s an order."

Rogers scoffs at the screen and damn it, Tony’s determined not to like the guy but the way he just smirks humorlessly as he stares Fury down, all aww shucks did you want the pretty, glowy thing too and well too damn bad for you makes it hard. Especially when Rogers goes that little extra mile and asks with a plain as day air of who fucking cares: "Whatever gave you the impression that this is a negotiation, Director Fury?"

It’s just too great a line to resist and Tony is only human. He makes a sharp gesture with his hand and JARVIS disconnects the call before they witness Fury pop a blood vessel. Let that be Agent’s problem for the time being.

"So," Tony states after a moment. "Besides all but declaring war on SHIELD, the organization two people in this room are officially employed by, for the record, and dealing with Reindeer Games over there, what’s the plan?"

Nervous shuffling. Awkward grins. Badly-hidden glances going back and forth. 

Perhaps most notably, nobody protests the declaring-war-on-SHIELD part. Tony would ask but frankly he’s still on his first glass of scotch — meaning way too fucking sober for whatever madness the answer to that question will undoubtedly raise. It’s a sad, sad day in the history of mankind when Tony is the voice of reason in a room filled with one-person-armies.

"What about Shawarma?" Rogers, apparently the most uncomfortable with the pressing silence, blurts out.

Tony gives that pitiful attempt to change the subject the nice try, have to admit I didn’t see that coming but you’re gonna have to give me more than that look it deserves. As it turns out though, he may have been overestimating his present company’s average ability to read a room.

"I could go for a bite," Barton pipes up, earning himself a soul-shriveling, dead-eyed, where the fuck did I go wrong with you and how have I not killed you yet stare, courtesy of Romanoff that he brushes off with admirable ease. Still not moving an inch away from her either and if Tony’s noticed the way her hand’s been edging ever closer to the knife strapped to her calf, there’s no way Barton hasn’t.

"Sounds good," Banner chimes in with a twisted amusement that makes Tony want to scratch his eyes out. "I know just to the place."

*

They do eat Shawarma together. [All of them, even Loki, because Thor insists his brother is far too thin. Considering Barton doesn’t protest and the only person Loki tries to stab with his salad fork is Thor himself, nobody comments on it.]

As if to add insult to a very long list of injuries that Tony is dying to poke and prod at, the food tastes delicious.

*

Okay so the whole antagonizing SHIELD thing wasn’t planned, but I figured in this AU there was no drawn out battle and no bomb and so there was no ‘thank fuck we’re even alive right now’ relief to take the edge of. Instead everyone is pissed off and frustrated (if for very different reasons) and not outright attacking the helicarrier right now is about all the diplomacy Steve has the patience for at this point.