#the eyebrow raise in the last one KILLS MEEEE

[guardian-angle22]

This or That: Tarlos Edition -> Catan gang hangs or private date night

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Stalker X Stalker, Part 6

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Perma tag: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever

Just remembered I had a plot so oops

Marinette wasn’t stupid. Nino had a brother only a few years older than Robin, and that brother had never acted so young or clingy at Robin’s age (and it surely wasn’t a thing about Robin, because she had yet to see him cling to anyone else). She knew that Robin was just using her to mess with Red Robin.

But she didn’t particularly mind. It was kind of funny to watch Red getting all worked up over his little brother and friend being close. She was glad she had her mask, because otherwise she definitely would have given away the act by this point.

Robin, for his part, had been upping things more and more every time he saw her. She wasn’t sure whether this was because he knew that she knew or because he was testing the limits of what he could do without her saying anything.

Red looked like he was at his wit’s end with Robin held out a hand for Marinette right before crossing a street. She took it, which was when he finally snapped:

“He’s twelve, not five!”

She pulled her face into a mock frown. “Are you saying that twelve-year-olds should get hit by cars, Red?”

Red Robin sputtered.

“Miss Ladybug, why is he so mean to me?” Robin asked with wide eyes. She could see the corner of his lips twitching in an effort not to smile.

She winked. His eyes narrowed just slightly then he widened them back to their wide-eyed sadness.

“I don’t know, sweetie. He’s just a meanie, I guess.”

Red Robin threw his hands up in either anger or defeat. It didn’t really matter which one it was, they counted it as a win.

~

Tim wasn’t surprised to walk into the Batcave one day and see Marinette’s face on the Batcomputer. The only thing he didn’t know was whether she was up there because they had figured out her identity or because Tim had started hanging out with her as a civilian.

He took a long sip of his coffee as he considered this, then he trudged over. Might as well find out.

“Hey guys,” he announced his presence.

He watched Duke out of the corner of his eyes. Duke was the newest of them, he could usually count on him to have more pronounced reactions.

Duke didn’t seem all that awkward. So it must have been them finding out her identity.

Tim sidled up beside them. “Sure that’s her?”

Bruce, never one for using his words when he didn’t have to, held up a small container of blood.

He hummed his understanding and intended for that to be the end of the conversation… but it was getting increasingly hard to ignore the eyes boreing into the side of his head. Tim fought to keep a straight face and unclench his jaw and ignore the stupid ‘d-d-don’t be suspicious’ song playing in his head.

And then Cass tapped him on the shoulder and he cursed quietly.

“Fine. Fine. I knew. Happy?”

Cass was not. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I saw her run into an alleyway and I followed -- obviously, it’s Gotham and alleyways are dangerous -- and she transformed right in front of me.”

She nodded and let it go.

Bruce, however, did not.

“You knew her identity and didn’t think to tell us?”

“I thought to tell you, I just didn’t,” he said with a cheeky grin.

Ah. The Disappointed Dad Stare. He had certainly not missed that.

His grin melted into an awkward smile. “It felt weird to reveal her. She clearly cares about her identity since she hasn’t told us herself yet, I figured I’d respect that as long as I could.”

“... you weren’t making progress on her identity on purpose. God, that makes so much more sense,” muttered Steph.

He shrugged. “Easy to avoid someone’s identity when you know who it is.”

Bruce was still looking at him disapprovingly.

“Don’t worry, I have contingencies,” Tim said.

His father relaxed, finally. He motioned for him to go on.

“Well, a few need confirmation. I still don’t know if her yoyo can be cut and it’s hard to tell if other people can unzip her hood or not. But if the hood is open then The Flash or Superman can easily get the earrings from her -- beyond those she’d just a normal person with some fighting skills, same contingencies as The Arrows or any of us. If not then Green Lantern can probably neutralize her.”

Bruce nodded.

The other kids looked mildly concerned.

“Wait, he has contingencies for us?” Duke said.

Bruce was back to looking dismayed. Tim showed them all where their files were (he wouldn’t hack them for them, obviously, he didn’t want to break the news of exactly how messed up Bruce’s contingencies were). He could practically see all the sweat beading itself on his forehead beneath his cowl.

(Tim hid his smile. He’d finally gotten revenge for the time he’d made him stay inside after The Chloroform Incident. And revenge was sweet.)

… it wasn’t until he started seeing his siblings on the rooftop across from Marinette’s apartment that he thought that, maybe, he should have gotten them into their files. It definitely would have distracted them from the Marinette Is Ladybug situation.

At least Cass trusted Marinette -- she would have slipped up and showed her intentions at least once by now -- and therefore wasn’t likely to come by. Cass would be the one to figure out that Tim coming up to the roof was more than him just checking on his siblings.

The first person that came by was Damian. Fair enough, he’d been around Marinette the shortest amount of time and what little friendship they had was based on his lies.

Now, the youngest sibling sat, cross-legged on the rooftop. He was sketching in his sketchbook between quick glances over at Marinette. He looked up when Tim pulled himself over the side and squinted at him.

“Drake.”

“Dami,” Tim greeted, because it always annoyed his younger brother when he used the nickname. “Having fun spying on Marinette?”

Damian was silent for a few moments before clicking his tongue. “She needs to close her blinds more often.”

“Aw, do you care about her?” Tim teased, reaching over to ruffle his brother’s hair.

He pushed his hand away. “She’s a Gothamite and is therefore under our protection.”

Tim snickered and shook his head, taking a seat beside him on the rooftop. “We can tell Duke about it once everyone else has had their chance at checking her out. He’s the only one that can get away with asking her to close it.”

Damian nodded firmly.

Tim hid the fond smile on his face by diverting his brother’s attention: “So, what’re you sketching?”

Damian’s eyes lit up.

The next person to drop by was Bruce himself. He was sitting there, in all black despite the fact that it was less useful during the day, with full spy equipment.

Tim dropped down beside him and was offered a set of headphones. The two of them stayed there in silence for a long time, listening to Marinette going about her day. She was currently cooking something and singing along to a song:

“I always feel like... somebOdy’s watching meeEe… andIhavenoprivacy~.”

Tim was choosing to ignore the song choice in favor of giggling about her inability to hit the notes. He could feel Bruce watching him out of the corner of his eyes, but he didn’t say anything and neither did Tim.

Next was Steph.

Steph raised her eyebrows at Tim when she saw him.

“Come here often?” She asked in a tone that was only half-joking.

“Only recently,” he lied. “Trying to figure out if any of you trust my judgement.”

“Doubtful.”

“Yeah, Duke is my last hope.”

She snickered and shook her head. “To be fair, you’re whipped. You could have been biased.”

“But I’m not.”

“But you’re not,” she conceded, then turned her gaze back on Marinette. “She’s cute. I approve.”

“Glad to know you trust her.”

“I wasn’t talking about it like that and you know it,” Steph said with a wink.

Tim blushed and pushed her face away. “You’re the worst.”

~

Marinette was having a little difficulty figuring out the not-quite-a-language that the bats spoke with her. She wanted to learn it because she cared about Black Bat and, though she could use ASL, it was clear that she wasn’t comfortable with any particular language… but wow was it hard to learn a language when there wasn’t any actual language involved.

Thankfully, Signal had said he would teach her since he had learned it the most recently and therefore might have an easier time teaching it.

Now, it was just after they had finished their lessons for the day and the two of them were relaxing together between their patrols. He had his head in her lap as they both scrolled through Twitter, occasionally laughing and showing each other the dumb things that the other bats had supposedly done. Her favorite so far was the picture someone had discreetly taken of Robin while he was petting their dog.

And then Signal suddenly sat up straight, eyes so wide beneath his domino that she swore that the lenses were going to pop out.

“Uh --?”

“We need to go,” he said.

She felt his hand wrap around her wrist and now she was being dragged somewhere else --.

There was a rush of air and next thing she knew she was being held just barely off the ground.

She blinked all the dryness out of her eyes and then looked up to see that her captor was none other than Superman himself. He had grabbed both of them and taken them to where the Batcomputer was, holding her by her hood and Signal by the back of his shirt. He looked angry, but not particularly at her. She followed his gaze to where Batman was sitting in his Batchair.

“B --.”

“Batman,” said Batman sternly.

Oh, so Superman got to know his secret identity and she didn’t?

(She was ignoring the fact that Batman’s civilian name started with a B.)

“Batman, what do I have here?”

“Two children?”

“Two. Metas.”

“Technically, Ladybug isn’t a meta. Her powers were given to her by a god that lives in her earrings,” Batman informed him.

Marinette tried not to smile too much. Look at how much he had grown. He was using her excuses now.

Superman’s eyes narrowed. She’d say something about how ‘if looks could kill, Batman would be dead’... but, considering the fact that Superman could kill someone with a single look, it didn’t really work.

“And is the god allowed in Gotham?”

Batman didn’t have an excuse for that one. He just grunted a specific grunt which Marinette had learned meant: “What’s your point?”

Superman also knew this specific grunt, apparently. “My point is that the last time I was in Gotham you put kryptonite in my coffee! You said no metas, and we listened, but now you have two!”

“They’re my kids.”

Marinette blinked. “News to me.”

Signal tried to reach across Superman to punch her arm. Superman was a very wide not-man, so he came up short.

“Do you want to be kicked out of Gotham?”

“Guess I’ve always wanted family here,” she said quickly.

Superman squinted at them for a long time before, finally, dropping them.

“You’re lifting your no meta rule.”

“No --.”

“Yes. If even you’re not going to listen to it, neither should we.”

Batman didn’t seem happy. Superman didn’t seem to care. Probably because he was a good head taller and had far more superpowers than Batman did.

Superman left soon after.

Marinette knew it wasn’t the time, because Batman was back to his Batbrooding, but she couldn’t help the grin slowly spreading across her face.

“So, Dad, can I have the new Xbox for Christmas?”

~

Duke had visited Marinette. Tim hadn’t seen him visit, but he definitely had because Marinette had closed her blinds and they hadn’t been open in days. She was still in Gotham, though, she had gone on patrols and, as far as he could tell, she didn’t have any places in Gotham in her name. She had to still be in the apartment, so Duke must have visited as Signal and told her to close them.

And he should have been happy about this. It was far safer that way. The less people knew that there was a woman living alone in that apartment the better.

… but he couldn’t help but be concerned.

The blinds being closed was his best indication of when she was about to leave or currently not home. He didn’t like that he no longer had a way of figuring that out. How was he supposed to watch over her while she was getting groceries if he never knew when she was going?

He gives her a necklace with a tracker in it the next time he sees her as Tim.

She raised her eyebrows at the box he was holding out to her. “Don’t you think it’s a little early to propose?” She joked, but he could hear the slight wariness bleeding into her tone.

He grins easily. “It’s just to thank you for the outfit you’re making me.”

“You pay me,” she said. “That’s thanks enough for me.”

“Maybe I just feel a little bad about guilting you into making it in the first place.”

She hesitates, but he could see the shiny red gem inlaid in it winning her over. It doesn’t matter that she wasn’t a gold digger, she was a fashion designer and he had purposefully chosen a common gem color so she’d be more inclined to wear it more often. It worked with a lot of outfits and it came from someone she -- hopefully -- considered a friend? There was little reason to say no.

As expected, she gave in.

She turned around and he carefully clasped it behind her neck. He pressed a tiny kiss to the back of her head.

When she turned back around her face was redder than the gem. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Ready to go?”

She nodded, taking his hand and allowing him to pull her along to the newest attraction.

~

Marinette fell back on her bed with a huff.

“Tikkiiiiiiiii,” she complained.

The kwami slipped out of her purse and came up to float above her face. “Did you enjoy your date?”

“It wasn’t --!”

Tikki laughed at her dismay. Because Tikki sucked.

She dropped the pillow back beside herself and curled up in what had used to be Tim’s jacket (she wasn’t joking when she’d taken it, he was never getting it back).

“Tim better be Red Robin. I’m not doing the whole ‘two crushes at once’ thing again.”

~

You know, there were actually times where Tim felt bad about chipping Marinette. He wasn’t out of it enough to think that it wasn’t messed up, he knew that there was a reason he didn’t want the other bats to know.

And he knew that, if he had to keep his habits from fellow bats, his habits had to be pretty bad. Every single one of them had a tendency to watch over their loved ones from time to time, it just came with the territory of having friends that are a) vigilantes/heroes/Rogues, b) stupid enough to live in Gotham, or c) an unfortunate mix of both. And, really, when you have the entire world at your fingertips it’s hard not to cross a few lines from time to time.

But Tim couldn’t bring himself to care about that line when she didn’t seem to care about her own safety.

She left the house constantly. Tim was beginning to suspect that she’d had her blinds open so often in order to feel closer to people rather than because she liked sunning herself. This would be fine… if she wasn’t leaving as a civilian. Marinette cared about her secret identity almost as much as Bruce did, so he knew that she probably wouldn’t try too hard to escape attackers for fear of them finding out who she was through her very particular fighting style. The bats had drilled her on the best ways to deal with being held at gunpoint and everything, but not every criminal was completely predictable. Bruce’s parents were a prime example of that.

She also had a tendency to take food without checking to see if it was laced. She did it especially when Tim handed her food and, while he liked that she trusted him, he didn’t love that she was as trusting of him as she was.

Marinette had trouble detecting when people were watching her, too. He figured it was just a byproduct of having most of the stuff she did as Ladybug filmed by tv crews and random civilians… but understanding why she was like that didn’t make him any less concerned about it.

Most damning, however, was how she dealt with catcalling.

Tim never felt a need to intervene when any of his siblings got catcalled on the job. He could trust them to tell whoever it was to stop with however much politeness was correct for the situation (usually not that much).

(The only exception was Damian because, unlike everyone else, Damian was still very obviously a minor. And even then the temptation to beat them up was mostly sated by the fact that Damian knew far more nonlethal ways to hurt them than he did.)

But the few times Marinette had gotten catcalled in front of him she… had just very politely asked them not to say that? And, when they didn’t stop, she had just sat there in her discomfort until they were done?

And Tim had done nothing but watch in stunned silence the first few times. It hadn’t been on purpose, he had just… not been expecting it. She usually acted far more confident, usually had some sort of retort on her tongue, why was this any different?

He didn’t know. Both he and Steph had tried to ask but she shut down both times and they didn’t want her to be more upset than she already was so they’d stopped trying.

The bats just silently agreed to check in on her through comms when she was quiet for too long and, if she didn’t respond, head towards her last known location and start looking.

So, yeah, his paranoia wasn’t completely unfounded.

~

Marinette blinked at the envelope Black Bat had handed her.

She turned it over in her hands, wondering if it was some kind of test, but that wasn’t really as much of a Black Bat thing as it was a Batman or Red Robin thing. So, she figured it probably wasn’t dangerous. She still found herself examining it. It was done in an old style, with a rough and slightly yellowed paper, a red wax seal with a pointy hat emblem she didn’t recognize, and ‘Ladybug’ written across the front in gorgeous calligraphy.

“Uh…?”

Black Bat only smiled at her and made a motion to open it.

Marinette hesitantly opened the letter and pulled out more weird paper. It was splattered with something that looked suspiciously like dried blood. In the same elegant script that had decorated the front, it read:

Your spirit has been summoned to my annual Halloween Party!

Dress to kill!

This was followed by a bunch of directions and timings and stuff about RSVP-ing.

Marinette looked at Black Bat, somehow even more confused than she had been before.

Thankfully, Red Robin chose that moment to run down the stairs, waving his invitation excitedly.

He stopped short when he saw Marinette already holding her invitation and huffed, sending Black Bat a halfhearted glare. “I wanted to tell her.”

Black Bat’s smile morphed into a smirk.

“Rude,” Red said. Then, he turned to Marinette. “We got invited to his Halloween Party!”

“Yeah… whose Halloween Party, exactly?”

“Scarecrow��s, of course!”

… what?

[astheroid]

Ka-Kacchan 😫💦 (Bakugouwu x reader SMUT 🤯)

Author-chan here!!!!!! I decided to write for my bb Kacchan bc hes just such a cutie >.< hehe anyways ENJOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I walked into the hero association with my long Blonde hair flowing in the wind. “SARAH!!” Deku called, walking over to me. “Baka-Deku, what do you wabt?” I asked, making a cute face. “I heard Kacchan wants youuuuu” he said raising his green puffy eyebrows. “Ka-Kacchan?? Why.. why would he ever want me?” I asked, batting my bright blue eyes in his directuon. “I do not know Sara-chan” he answered, blushing bright red. “I think… he might have a crush on you” I GASPED!! (author’s note: UwU OMGGG IT’S GETTING ~SPICYYYY~) I smiled sweetly at deku before hopping over to Bakugou, flipping my hair over m shoulder. “Ohio K-Kacchan, what do you want?” I said, trying to be tough. He glared at me pomeranian hair sticking up as I touched him. “NOTHING YOU BITCH!!” He yelled, shoving me. I started crying. “BAKA-KUGOU WHY DID YOU DO THAT????” I yelled. He lookd at me. “Idk you’re just ugly.” He said and walked away. I touched my frail wrist and realized it was broken. I went to the doctor’s and got it fixed, mad at Kacchan te whole way. I saw Kacchan after work and went to be mad at him. “WHY DID YOU DO THAT?????” I screamed activating my Ice Quirk. “You’RE JUST AN UGLY STUPID EXTRA!!” Ye glared at me, hands booming. “IF I’M SO UGLU WHY DO YOU LIKE MEEEE?????/?” I yelled in his face. He gasped and tears fell from his eyes. “BAKAaAaAaAAAA HOW DO U KNOW THAT?” He said. “I know because your always mean to me :(“ I pouted. He said “t-th-that’s not t-true BAKA-SARAAH.” I grinned menacingly with my fangs. “Of course it’s true Ba-kacchan” “Don’t call me that” he said, blushing. “Ba-kacchan” I said again, my own cheeks getting red against my pale skin. He grabbed my arm “let’s go to my house and see if you wan’t to call me that again Baka-Sarah-chan”. (author’s note: OMGGGGGGG SMUT COMING SOON!!! TANK U FOR READING THIS FAR!!! Should I make a Deku-chan one next? He’s my lil beann and I wanna write 4 him :3)

UwU SMUTTTTTTTTTT BWLOE THE CUT!!!! Skip if you want but its my favorit part ;3

We arrived at his house and no-one was home, it was just me and Kacchan (author’s note: SPICYYYYYY whatr you gonna do bakacchan O///O). He threw me on his bed and took off his shirt (author’s note: MMM HIS STOMACH I’M DROOLING ;w;). He pushed me down and went to the bathroom, when he came out he had no pants too!! I was surprised by his cream stick poking through his underwear. “Take off ur clothes baka” he huffed face very red. I pouted. “Make me Ba-Kacchan”. He growled ferally nd ripped mt clothes off my body. I gasped, pale Skin getting goosebumps. “There I made you” he said rolling his eyes. I blushed very hard. “Now let me show u what happens when you call me Ba-kacchan >:(“ (autho’rs note: *w* OMGOMGOMGOMG IT’S HAPPENING GUYSSS!! YOUR AUTHOR-CHAN IS SOOOO EXCITED!!!). He took off his Dog undies and I saw… A HUGE DING-DONG!!! He put it inside me and moved quickly. I moaned “OoOoOoOoOoOoOoHhHhHhHHHH Ka-Kacchan… go faster!!” He went faster, grumbling my name. After a bit he took his member out and Spat on me. “That’s why u don’t call me Ba-Kacchan Bitch”. I layed on his bed amd panted; legs too weak to stand up. He put his pants over his meat scepter and grinned at me. “I hope you learned your lesson Baka-Sarah”.

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Smut done :(((( Stay to read the rest tho!!!

I stayed in his house for 30 minutes before leaveing. “B-bye k-k-Kacchan” I stuttered. My legs were still wobbly. I went home and jumped on my bed dreaming of Kacchan railing me again ;). When I woke up I felt really sick and threw up in the bathroom. ‘Oh no……’ I thought. WAS I PREGANTE????? (author’s note: OOHHHHHHHHHHH DRAAAMAAAAA!!! Hehe it gets so exciting) I rushed to the store to buy a test, completely forgetting about my job as a Hero. I gasped at the test. ‘I’m… Perngant??’ I touched my belly. ‘I have Ba-kacchan’s baby in here…” ‘I have to call him’. I called and talked to him on the phone. “K-Kacchan” I stuttered “I got pragnent!” He gasped. “F*ck. Are u gonna keep it?” I gasped. “OF COURSE!!!!! I CAN”T KILL OUR BABY!!!!!!!!!” (author’s note: OMGEEEE THEY’RE FIGHTING 🥺🥺🥺) Kacchan sobbed. “I DON’T HAVE ENOUGH MONEY TO PAY FOR A KID!!” “YOU DON’T NEED TO, I CAN!!!! I DOUN’T NEED YOU ANYWAYS!!!!” I screamed, crying too. He left the call and I cried harder. Idk what to do with a BABY. He came to my house. He crossed his arms madly. “We need to kill the baby.” “NO I CAN’T DO THAT!!” I screamed (author’s note: OoOoOoOoOh THEY’RE GOING THRU IT!!!!!). “Why not????????” He pouted. His hands sparked. “THAT’S MURDER BA-KACCHAN!!!” My long Silky hair whipped around as I yelled up at him. He tried to hit my stomach, but I dodged and Froze him in placee. “DON’T HIT ME BAKA-KUGOU!!!!!!!!” I screamed. “STOP TYRING TO MURDER O U R CHILD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” He huffed. “I DON’T WANT A STUPID KID WITH A WHORE LIKE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1!!!!” I gasped loudly. “I’M NOT A WHORE YOU’RE JUST A JERK!!!!!” He burst out of the ice and kissed me. “I don’t want a crusty crotch goblin to ruin our relationship” “He won’t I promise” I said blushing Red and patting my tummy. He sighed loudly. “Ok fine we can keep the cum droplet I just don’t wanna pay” I smiled “OK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” “So……. will you marry me?” I gasped suuuper loud “OF COURSE BAKUGOU!!!!! I LOVE U!!!”

TIMESKIP!!!!!!!! UwU I loveeee this story so far; hope u guys like it too ;3

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We ended up having 8 babys. I’m the #1 hero (author’s note: Deku is too baby to be a hero 🥺 I think Strong reader-chan is better for that >:3) and Kacchan is my sidekick. Our kids have the strongst quirks in the world!!!1!!! Ray Andy Mei Akira Bobby David & Deku Jr have explosion-Ice quirks, but Maya (author’s note: Maya is my faaavoriteeee UvU) has A SUPER POWERFUL ICE QUIRK (just like her mama)!!!!!! We lived a very happy nice life after that and had a ton of money!!

BONUS SMUT!!!!!!!!!!!! Hehe I wanted to do a lil extra ~spicy~ something as a reward for reading this far >wO

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Kacchan plugged me up with his thicc Pleasure Pump. I whined “KA-KACCHAN YOU’RE TOO BIG~” He didn’t listen and kept going pounding me into the wall. There was a collar around my neck (author’s note: K!NKYYYYYY~~~~~) and my Face was mushd into the wall. He kept going for quite some time until he hit something in me. I scREAMED “OOOOHHHHHH KACCHAN THAT’S ITtTtTTTTttttTTTT~~~” he grunted and pushed harder. His manhood felt so GOOOOOOD. (author’s note: I kinda want Bakugouwu to @#!% me if u know what i mean ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)) He did it until he Cummed; taking it out so we wouldn’t have more babys.

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HEHEHEHEHEHHEHHEEEE THAT WAS SO HOT *w*. ANYWAYSSS HERE’S AN AUTHOR-CHAN QnA!!!!!!!

Favorite food: BAKUGOU UwU

Favorite character: BBY DEKU!!!! He’s MINE get away Broke Uraraka >:((((

Favorite color: Anything but pink :/ soooo cringy

Favorite Anime: MY HERO OBV!!!

Ships: Me x my hero boysss 🤤 the girls are all dumb and gay is sin :^/

Next chapter????:

NEXT CHAPTER PREVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Deku stared at us jelously. “I-I don’t understand… I…. I really like you Sarah-Chan!!! Why did u have to choose Kacchan 🥺” I looked at him sadly. “He got me pregnent Deku-chan I had toooo” He looked at Bakugou mad. “You took my crush away from me Kacchan…….” Kacchan yelled at him “SHE’S MINE SO BACK OFF BAKA-DEKUUUUU!!!!!!!!” Deku started cryeing and looked at me for help “She was supposed to be MY wife Mean Kacchan :(“ Bakugou laughed. “NO CHANCE LOSER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

The next chapter will be coming out sooooon :D I hope you guys liked!!!!! It’s gonna be so good and even a little smutty *o* n e wAys, catch all you lil reader-chan beans l8ter!!!

Last updated: April 1, 2016

[This is 100% a joke and not a real representation of my writing skills. Happy April Fools ;D]

[magma-queen]

Movie night gone wrong

This is for the lovely @giggly-squiggily 💜💜 My askbox is always welcome to you, luv. And I’ll take every single request you send! ❤️ love you very much, friend! Enjoy the cuteness!

“Hey, Max.. whaddya say to a cuddly movie night?” Archie smiles, holding a disc in his hand after he came from upstairs. “I got us a little somethin’ to watch~”

The redhead raised an eyebrow. “I’m almost afraid to ask what it is…”

“Well… it’s not yer favorite genre…”

Maxie crosses his arms. “If it’s horror, then the answer is no.”

“But babe!” Archie gave him his Lillipup eyes. “This one’s a really good one.. and besides, Halloween is just around the corner!”

*eye roll* “Archie.. Halloween is next month.. and September 1st was yesterday.”

“Are ye sayin’ yer scared?? Don’t be a scaredy Delcatty~” Archie teased, wrapping his arms around his red headed husband.

Maxie turns to glare at him. “No. I’m not. I.. just don’t like horror movies…” Archie could detect the trembling in his voice.

“Awww, Max… I’ll be there to protect ye.. I promise..” The pirate grinned, kissing his cheek. “Ye think the monsters are gonna get ye or somethin’?”

A light smack hit his shoulder. Maxie turned red and looked away from him.

“No.”

“Then whaddya say? Please? For meeee?” He gave him his puppy eyes once more.

If there was one thing in this world that Maxie couldn’t resist, it would be his husband’s puppy eyes.

“F-fine…” He gave in. “But.. if I have nightmares tonight.. I’ll give YOU something to be scared about.”

Archie squished him into a big hug. “Yer not gonna regret this, hun! I’ll keep you safe..”

“Will you st-stop saying that?” He whined. “I’m not a child.. no movie is going to frighten me.”

That evening, they both cuddle up close to each other and watched the movie together. Perhaps a movie about the Zombie apocalypse wasn’t the best choice, because he wouldn’t admit it, but Maxie was terrified.

“Ye ok, love?” Archie asked. He felt his husband hold onto him tighter.

“I’m f-f-fine…” He whimpered, laying his head on Archie’s lap. “Th-this is nothing…”

Archie knew that was a damn lie. He kissed his cheek and let him snuggle closer. Maxie couldn’t stand the sight of blood more than anything, so every time someone or something was killed, he turned the other direction.

As the movie progresses, Archie became too into it. He had never seen it before, so he definitely wanted to see what happens. He was an easily distracted man.

“A-Archie… Archie?”

He didn’t answer, he was too busy invested into the movie.

Maxie got mad. Archie knew how much of a wimp he was, and when he got scared, Archie would always hold him.

“Archie…”

He knew only one way to get his attention, so he dove under the blanket and squeezed his knee a few times.

“G-gahaha!! *snort* M-Max!” He grabbed the remote and paused the movie, then he grabbed his husband. “What was that for??”

“You weren’t listening to anything I was saying. So I had to get your attention somehow.. and I lied.. I’m scared.. ok?”

“Awww, hun…” He held him tighter. “M’ sorry.. c’mere..”

“Mmm~”

Then, out of nowhere, a few moments later Archie grabs a hold of Maxie’s waist and shoves him to the other side of the couch, then pins him down.

“A-Archie what the hell are you doing?!” He yelps, struggling in his grip.

Archie starts playfully moaning like a Zombie. “Rrrrraaaaghhhhh…”

“V-Very funny!” He squirms. “Yes, we both know that you’re a comedian… Now can you let me go so we can finish the movie?”

Seeing the toothy shark grin on his husband’s face, he knew that he was in big trouble.

“A-Archie.. N-No..”

Said man lifts his shirt up and blows a raspberry on his belly.

*inhale* “PFFFFFFFFT!!!”

“A-ARCHIHIHIHIE NOHOHOHO!! N-NOHOHOT THAHAHAHAT!!!” He squealed, kicking his legs and twisting in his arms. He then shrieked when Archie started to nibble at his ribs and stomach, pretending to eat him. “ST-ST-STOP! AHAHAHAHEHEHE- YOHOHOU KNOHOHOW THAHAHAHAT I’M TICKLISH!”

“Rrrrraaaaggghhhh!”

“AHAHAHAHEEHEEHEE! G-GEHEHEHET OHOHOOHOHOFF OF MEHEEEHEEHEEHEE!!! TH-THAT TICKLES!!” He slammed his fist onto the couch, desperately trying to escape his ticklish fate.

The other man just continues his playful attack, continuing his zombie noises. He playfully nibbled at his sides, then his arms, legs, and right back to his stomach.

“AHAHAHAHAHA!!!! ST-STOHOHOHOHOP IHIHIHIHIHIT!!!” Tears flew from his eyes as he squirmed. “THAHAHAT TIHIHIHIHIHICKLES!! STAHAHAHAP!!! I’LL- I’LL DIHIHIHIE!!”

He put his shirt down and let him breathe for a moment, but then he went up and blew a raspberry on his neck while he scratched at his sides.

“AHAHAHAHARCHIHIHIHIHIE!!!!”

*kiss*

“AHAHAHEHEHEHEHEHE STAHAHAHAP!!!” The redhead began to hiccup. “YOHOHOUR’E K-KIHIHIHILLING MEHEHEHEHE!!! *hic* STAP!! *hic* PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!!”

Archie stopped his attack, laughing heartily. He stared down at his giggling, red faced husband, and smirked.

“Babe, have I ever told ye how cute ye are?” He asks, trying to avoid the pillow swinging at him. “H-hey! Oof! That’s not very nice!”

“Have I ever told YOU how *hic* d-dead you’re going to be when you let go of me??” He gasped out, he could barely get a breath in.

Archie chortled in response. “THAT was for squeezing me knee, sweetheart. Don’t tickle me and expect not to get tickled back.”

“I j-just squeezed your knee! You full on attacked me!” He wheezed out.

“But I also did it, because it finally got ye to smile.. M’ sorry ye were scared.. forgive me for being distracted..”

Maxie turned even more red in embarrassment. “I was trying to get your attention.. you were VERY distracted.”

“Exactly, and m’ sorry, love.”

Once Archie opens his arms and sits back down on the other side, he was a bit hesitant to get back into his arms.

“C’mere, babe… I’m not gonna tickle ye.. I promise..”

“No. I don’t trust you.” He replied.

“Come on..”

Maxie rolled his eyes and fell into Archie’s arms, and the pirate wrapped them around him.

“Ye were right..”

His eyes widened.

“Ye probably shouldn’t have trusted me..” He giggled, digging his fingers lightly into Maxie’s ribs. “Because m’ not yer husband… m’ the tickle monster!”

“N-Nohohohoho!!!” He squeaked. “Archihihie you ahahahasshole!! stahahahahop ihihihit!!!”

He hummed happily, enjoying the sweet giggles played out to him. “Coochie Coochie coo~ yer such a cutie! I can’t help it!”

“Ihihihihi’m going tohohohoho kihihihill you!!” The redhead threatened.

“Will ye forgive me? Please? I won’t quit tickling until ye do~”

“O-Okahahahay okahahahay!!! *snort* Ihihihihi fohohorgive yohohou! St-stahahahahop ticklihihihihing mehehehehe!!”

Archie finally stopped, he kisses his giggling redhead on the forehead and grabs the remote once more.

“Hehehe.. heh.. Archie… ihihihi swear… when I catch myhyhy breath.. y-you’re d-dead..”

Archie just laughs at him. “Let’s save that for after the movie.. Mm? I promise I’ll hold ye the whole time..”

“Mmph…”

He hit the play button. The movie resumed, Maxie clinging onto Archie like a Komala. But Archie felt another squeeze to his knee right before a jump scare appeared on the tv, almost giving the Aqua leader a heart attack.

“Gah!! Maxie! Now yer just askin’ for it! M’ gonna tickle that smirk right off yer face!”

“Save that for after the movie.. right?” He teased, looking up at him with a grin.

“Heh..” He held him closer. “Fine, ye goofball.. now behave.. before the tickle monster has to make a reappearance.”

*chuckle*

For the whole last 45 minutes of the movie, Maxie constantly poked and prodded at Archie every time he got distracted, enjoying his giggles. He tried to push him away, but he knew he deserved it, so he tried to take it like a man. His giggles, however.. were NOT manly. (Lmao)

Once the movie was over, Archie turns it off, nudging Maxie, who was half asleep.

“Babe, c’mon.. it’s gettin’ late.. maybe we should head to bed..”

*yawn* “But I just want to stay down here, with you..” He smiled, reaching his arms to him and pulling him back to the couch. “I want to stay like this tonight, snuggled in your strong arms.”

“Alright.. how can I say no to yer adorable face?” He laid back down and dimmed the lights. “Are ye still scared, Max?”

“I can’t lie.. maybe a little…”

Archie hummed and embraced him. “I’ll keep ye safe, sweetheart… *kiss* “Mmm… Max?”

“Yes, love?”

“I love ye so much..”

“Mmhmm.. I love you too, Archie.”

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ F*CKING HIGH ❜

with Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas.

Request: Hey! Maybe prompt 52. When Creeper get shot and Mayans don't know reader but when hé was high on medication he call her at Vicky's House ? 🙈Something really Fluff ? Thanks!! I love ur writings 😊😊

BY ANON

Warnings: none.

Word count: 1.6k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to the author, I found it on Google.

Masterlist.

The books over the table with a lot of notes scattered around them are starting to give you a horrible headache. You don't know how many hours you have been studying, but you're sure that it was daytime. When you focus your gaze on the horizon, through the window, you're aware of the streetlights turned on outside and the dark sky above Santo Padre. It's your final week to complete the MIR and you have left just one exam. The last one. So, when Creeper told you he was going to travel to Las Vegas for a couple days, you have to recognize that you felt a little alleviated. You want to spend the maximum time possible with him, but you also have to study, but both things aren't compatible. Even so, he should be at home already.

Checking the time on the clock in your wrist, you snort getting up from your chair to pick up the books and your pens. It's enough study for today and you're really hungry. After cleaning the table, you fall down on the sofa turning on the TV and looking in your phone for something to take away. Cooking it's not an option today. Choosing the local pizzeria for excellence, you're about to make the order when an incoming call interrupts your plans. Reading his name on the screen, you answer quickly.

“Babe!”

“Maaaaamaaaa”. He sings, making you frown somewhat confused sitting on the sofa. “Heeeeey, maaaamaaaa”.

“Are you… high, Neron?”

“Yeah… Fuckin' high… for you, my loooove”.

“What the hell? Where the fuck are you?”

“Mama, I want you here. I need you here, maaaama!”

“Ner—”.

“I am… close”.

“Close from what?”

“Border, mama. Close to the border. Come with meeee. I need my nurse, mama, pleaaase”.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Your heart is racing, jumping off from the sofa, running to your shared room.

“A guy shot me, mama. But don' worre', I'm okaaaay”.

“Neron, send me your location right now!”

“Mama, mama, mama, are you comen'?”

“FUCK, NERON, OF COURSE I'M COMING. SEND ME THE FUCKING LOCATION”.

“Don'... Don' shout at me, mama”.

From nowhere, you can hear him crying like a child. Even if he's high, that shit breaks your heart into pieces. Stopping next to your bed rubbing your forehead, barely gulping, you try to calm yourself.

“Are you alone?”

“N—No…”

“The bul—”.

“It's out, mama… I wan—want you here with me. I'm okay, mama, I'm okay… Come with me. Don'... leave me, don' break with me, mama, please”.

“Send me your location, okay? Could you do that for me?”

“Yeah, mama… Are you comen'?”

“Sí, Neron, I'm gonna get dressed, okay?”

“Okay, mama… I love you. I love you, mama. I truly love you, I swear”.

“I know, mi flaquito”.

Hanging up the call, you take some second to breathe calmly before looking for some clothes to put on and grabbing the medical kit when you're ready. They better have something to eat, or there will be more than one man shot. Leaving your house, your phone rings with a notification. The address of Vicki's house. You have heard about it, and you're not surprised at all. According to your boyfriend, this is the favorite place of Mayans. You don't know them, not yet, but you can imagine why they like it this much. Keeping the kit on the back seat, you step in your car turning the engine to follow the instructions recited by the gps.

When it says that you have reached your destiny, you focus through the Camaro's front window to find the house, looking exactly as he described you one day. Going out of the pilot seat and carrying the medical stuff in your right hand, you go upstairs practically jumping them to hit the door with your palm. A girl with brown hair, big eyes and almost naked welcomes you, pushing her by a side before she can talk.

“Hey, hey! Wait! You ca—”.

Coming into the living room, you finally meet his other family. They were drinking and laughing until you appeared, now staring at you confused. The one who you recognize as El Presidente gets up from his chair, the other two are pointing at you with their guns, warned by the bitch behind you.

“I'm from Tijuana, you can't scare me con una pistolita”. (With a gun). You spit with a strong mexican accent, containing a sarcastic laugh.

“Who are y—”.

“MAAAMI, MAAAAMIIIIIIII”.

Hearing your boyfriend calling you, you don't give them a single chance to let you introduce yourself, running upstairs following the laments of Creeper between moans and pleased begs. Disgusting. Opening the last green red door, you finally reach him. The medical kit falls from your hand shocked. Taking a step, you tour his silhouette lying on the mattress. Being shirtless you can see the bandage covering the bullet hole, with some blood trespassing the cotton, and the sling holding the other. His face isn't much better, with some scratches on his left cheek and his temple. The most disturbing is watching him crying like a scared child, trembling and trying to sit up on the bed.

Before the other mexicans can reach you, you're already kneeling on the bed not knowing where you're allowed to touch him and where not.

“Mami, I missed you”.

“You're an idiot, you know it, rai'?” You ask him with your eyes filled with tears, gently caressing the other cheek, while he nods.

Leaning forward you kiss his shaky lips once and again, before feeling his right arm surrounding your waist.

“Let me see the shot, okay?” Whispering, you get up from the bed to take the medical kit, under the look of the men waiting on the door.

“The doctor put it out, disinfected the wound and stitched it up”. El Presidente says, making you frown your eyebrows.

“The doctor, or the vet?”

“Wha—”.

“Answer before I fucking punch you”.

“The vet”.

Of course, it's not the same. Even the medicines that give you in the MIR are stronger than the ones for a veterinarian. Opening the kit over the bed and wearing a pair of blue gloves, you lean on Creeper to take off the bandage and the gauze, narrowing your eyes to see every stitch on it. It's… acceptable, but you could have done it better. Wetting some cotton with iodine, you clean the blood around the suture with soft moves to not hurt him more. Your boyfriend is assorted on how concentrate you look taking care of him.

“Do you know what you are doing, niña?” The oldest one rests his body against the frame.

“'Amma real doctor, not a veterinarian”. You respond without turning at him, but at your kit to find clean gauzes and an adhesive bandage to cover the sewn hole again. “What happened with the other, Neron?”

“Dislocated”. He just says gulping with parted lips.

“What did they gave you for the pain?”

“Just some pills, mami…”

“How many hours ago?”

“Almost ten”. El Presidente replies in his place, making you twist towards him.

“Okay, Creep', I'm going to prick you some morphine”. He just nods.

Grabbing a needle wrapped on a security plastic, you open it to fill it up with the transparent liquid from a small glass bottle. Hitting it softly with two fingers and letting some of the medicine spill on air, you lead the needle to his bare skin over the wound. Nailing it slowly until the metallic part has disappeared inside it. Then, you push the plastic container until empty. Taking off the needle and keeping it again inside its paper, to throw it later, you close the medical kit.

“You need to rest, okay?”

“Mami, stay with me, please… Don' go”. He begs you crying low and holding your hand as strong as he can.

“You need to rest”. You repeat raising both eyebrows and nodding with your chin one time, caressing his grip with your fingers. “I will talk with your friends for a moment. Ain't going anywhere, mi flaquito. Not without you”.

“I love you, mama. I really do”.

“I love you too, Creep'”. Smirking at your boyfriend, you kiss him again having a little more of caring to not hurt him. “Sleep, flaquito”.

Placing the medical kit over a desk, you leave him closing the door, killing with your eyes the men in front of you.

“I'm hungry, so you better find me some dinner”.

“First, tell us who you are, because he's high enough to confuse himself and believe that he's the fucking Messiah”.

“I'm his girlfriend, pendejo. And you're gonna be a dead man if you don't bring me my fucking dinner”.

El Presidente chuckles rubbing his chin, before nodding, seeing you disappear through the opened door again. Coming back to the bed, you can notice that your boyfriend isn't crying anymore, smiling like an idiot. Sighing you lie down by his side, wrapping his body with both arms, letting him find a comfortable posture under them. You can feel his lips kissing your right forearm somewhat sleepy, purring like a cat. Definitely, he's too high.

“Mami, I love you…” He whispers when you begin to caress his neck with your fingertips. “You are the love of my life…”

“Yeah, you already said it… like a lot of times”. You laugh softly, turning towards you with a soft grimace of pain on his face.

“Love you it's my favorite thing”. He mumbles stunned because of the smile on your lips.

“Mine too, babe. I love you more than anything”.

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[margridarnauds]

Scattered Thoughts on Treason: The Musical

[warning for some critical discussion]

The Cold Hard Ground: 

First song I listened to. 

God, we’re getting DARK. This is seriously a mix between a villain song and a hero song, and I’m HERE for it. 

This is the one I’m possibly most interested in, because it’s really making me wonder how they’re going to portray the plotters: Are we going to be seeing them as fanatics, or as heroes, or somewhere in-between? In this song, it looks like Catesby is a man broken by grief who turned to fanatical religion as a way of coping with his own suicidal tendencies. 

“So TAKEEEEE MEEEEEEEEEEE. You won’t BREEEEEAAAAAK meeee, it’s too late to SAAAAAAAAVVVVEEEE MEEEEEE.” 

GOD those final notes are going HARD. 

At first, I thought that it was rather scattered, musically wise, but the more I listen to it, the more I think it’s brilliant because the music comes together by the end, as Catesby seems to calcify in his convictions. 

I’ll be really curious to see how anyone but Hadley serves this, but a solid 80% of this song, at the moment, is built on his impressive performance. I’ll be really curious in knowing how the livestreams went. 

Take Things To Our Own Hands: 

Honestly, my favorite song on the album, probably one of them that I can best visualize on stage. 

WE NEED TO THINK OF A WAAAAAY TO BRING THE WHOLE SHIP DOWN.

Favorite vocal moment: When all the conspirators’ voices join one another, and then the moment at the end where it sounds almost like a church’s choir. 

I absolutely LOVE the slick folkish feel to this, paired with the driven pace, it’s like if “The Story Told” from Monte Cristo decided to go folk, I love it. It really has a feel that I don’t see many musicals going for (Hadestown being the closest, though it goes in a jazzier style than this) , and that’s something really in its favor. If the rest of the songs follow this level of quality and tone, this musical is going to be a really, really fun ride.  

Also, it’s very interesting in terms of how, even though this is the conspirators’ “Pump Me Up” song, there’s this very DARK overtone to it, which makes sense given what they’re proposing. Their voices go increasingly hard, almost into a staccato, and I wonder how much of that is diction VS them showing how hardened and increasingly radicalized the conspirators are becoming. 

That being said: “I once had influenza but now that’s all gone when things turned sour”?????????????????? I’m trying desperately to wrap my head around this lyric, it sticks out like a sore thumb.

The lyrics in this particular song are, admittedly, its weakest point: They tend to be very, very repetitive, but, in all honesty, it doesn’t really bother me - It works with that mood of the conspirators becoming radicalized. 

I know that Hadley tends to get most of the kudos for this song, but the other conspirators (Waylon Jacobs, Oliver Savile and Emmanuel Kojo) deserve MASSIVE kudos for their performances, I’m seriously going to be looking into all of them after this. 

The Day Elizabeth Died 

I started off not really caring for this song, but I’ve really warmed to it. 

I’m really curious about who the main singer in this song is supposed to be, because I feel like that will really change how I feel about the lyrics specifying that she had “An inch of makeup on her face”. If we’re supposed to view this from the perspective of a devoutly religious 17th century Catholic woman, I can understand it more than a Protestant woman, given that it really, really works with some misogynistic stereotypes about Elizabeth. 

So, the singer’s apparently Anne Vaux, which makes sense. Okay, I’ll give them this one. A little period-accurate internalized misogyny can be good for the soul. 

I LOVE Rebecca La Chance’s voice. It’s so wonderfully clear and strong, delicate, but with steel beneath it. 

There’s something almost....wistful, melancholy, and isolated about this song? It strikes a very odd balance between being sympathetic to Elizabeth (some say she died of a broken heart) while condemning her reign. 

ALSO. BEST VOCAL MOMENT ON THE ENTIRE ALBUM. “We mourned for her, she was our queen, and for 45 years, she had reigned supreme.” And then the conspirators coming on with “WE DID NOT MOOOOOURRRRN FOR HER. SHEWASOURCAPTOR.” I could, legitimately, listen to that bit alone on repeat, I’m actually obsessed with it. That odd, conflicted feeling between Elizabeth having been Queen for longer than most of England had been alive, providing a sense of stability, while also the very real persecution that English Catholics were under. This is the kind of nuance I really want to see the musical carry forward. 

Blind Faith

I don’t really know what to say except that Martha Percy’s love for Thomas Percy is juxtaposed with Thomas Percy’s feelings for Catesby. 

Literally. 

That’s the song. 

If this musical ever develops a fandom, there are going to be a hundred Catesby/Thomas fics, with James/Thomas being the darkhorse fic. 

It’s hard to judge this one, simply because it’s much more conventional love song - It sounds similar to, for example, “That Would Be Enough”, if Alexander Hamiltpn decided to blow up George III instead of join the American Revolution. It’s a TWIST on the conventional love song, but it still follows similar beats. 

But I DO love how their voices go together, the song really starts to shine when that happens. 

That last “This path was MINE to choose, he has nothing to prove”, probably is the best vocal moment. 

Overall, I don’t have MANY thoughts on this song in comparison to the others, but I can also see myself warming up to it over time. 

The Promise

“His face is quite nice” It’s VERY obvious they’re going for a queer comic relief interpretation of James, which I honestly have mixed feelings about given that he is, clearly, going to be the one that our protagonists are trying to get rid of. There’s.....something about that, a bunch of presumably straight protagonists ganging up to kill a stereotypically portrayed gay man. I know that historically, James WAS, but.....I still don’t like how stereotypical they played this one. Someone could point to Herod from JCS but, in all fairness, Herod was written in the 1970s (and, tbh, given that the central relationship in the musical is Jesus and Judas, you could argue that the entire musical is very, very homoerotic, which makes it less glaring.) This is...well, I’ll have to see how the musical deals with it. I’m willing to give it a fair shake, but they might have set themselves up for danger here. 

But Daniel Boys is, admittedly, serving this song on a silver platter. 

Really, really going into the Spoiled Child Route here. 

If it sounds like I’m disappointed with this song compared to the others, it’s because......yeah, I kind of am. Musically, it’s fine and a little catchy, lyrically, it’s fine, but that nuance I’d been seeing in the other songs goes out the window. James isn’t my favorite historical figure of all time (Bro basically set up the English Civil War), but there still HAD to be a better way to do him justice than this. 

It doesn’t hurt that, unlike the other songs, which were demonstrably TREASON, this one is very much.....a JCS/Hamilton rip-off. Like, it’s very, very blatant. 

Love the rising strings when Percy tells him that Elizabeth is dying, that sense of tension - It does remind me a little of something I heard in The Pirate Queen, but you know what? I’ll give it to them. 

Lowkey obsessed with Oliver Saville’s eyebrow raise when he says “You could save England.” 

The problem is that they’re leaning so hard into the comic route that, when James says that he’ll be a fair king, it really, really makes the Catholic nobility sound dumb as Hell to listen to him. Like “Yes, man who routinely, gleefully sings about cutting off people’s heads, I’ll listen to you!” I know they’re desperate but....come on. 

But also. THAT HIGH NOTE. Daniel Boys really put 110% in there. 

Overall, my takeaway is that this musical could either do very, very well or very, very badly, depending on how they play it. It’s hard to judge because the public only has access to 5 tracks (except for the lucky ducks who bought tickets to the stream, where they got access to 10) - It’s hard to judge a musical based off of 5 tracks, and a musical about the Gunpowder Plot with, say, a love song called “Blind Faith” almost sounds like something out of a parody, something destined to be one of those flops that go down in history. BUT, that being said, the musical has some very strong vocal performances and some really good music, when it keeps to its own mood and style instead of trying to go off of what other, more successful musicals have done. There’s some real, real promise in this musical, and I’ll be both anxious and excited to see how it all turns out (and if they ever offer a full purchase for the live recording......I’d honestly probably buy it.) It was a shame I found out about it so late in the game, because I’d have totally bought tickets to the stream if I had known earlier. 

[vanchlo]

Magic Moment

Hello! I could NOT resist writing another blurb about boyfriend!harry for my lovely friend, @bfharry‘s BOYFRIENDATHON after I got this idea! I’ve always loved baseball myself and playing lots of catch at work recently inspired this, as well as falling in love with Queen ;) Enjoy  some fluff about playing catch with boyfriend!harry at your childhood home c:

*

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.4k words

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Music Inspo: This Magic Moment by Ben E. King and The Drifters (click to listen and yes Sandlot *wink*) 

*

“Follow your heart, kid, and you can never go wrong.”

- The Sandlot

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad,” you jest, giggling nervously. The screen door closes with a loud whap! behind the both of you.

“Ya, maybe it wasn’t fer you,” he sighs in a whisper, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His high-top white converses slap! down the wooden stairs quickly. “I think I need anotha beer afta that.”

“Follow me.”

A humid heat hits you in the face when you open the scarlet-colored door to the garage. The familiar smell welcomes you, and so do the sights of your father’s tools hanging up on the walls. The lawn mower still sits in the same spot, his pair of old glasses remain perched on the windowsill, and the tiny mini fridge in the corner awaits your call.

“Thanks,” he mumbles after taking a long pull from the refreshing beer. You opt for a Whiskey-Coke, instead, the carbonation sending shooting stars across your tongue. You watch him wipe away the bead of sweat running down his forehead, and then the subsequent smile that drills the dimples into his cheeks. “Bloody hell, if that isn’t tha cutest thing ‘ve eva seen.”

A questioning ‘what’ barely passes your lips once you spot the miniature lilac colored baseball glove on a shelf. Next, a laugh falls from your lips and he echoes it with his own adorable concoction. 

“Hard t’ believe yer hand was eva that tiny, love.”

“I know, it’s funny that my dad kept it around.”

“I would if I were him, ‘s bloody adorable,” he notes, picking up the battered leather mitt with a content smile. “Ah, lookie here. Up fer a game o’ catch, love? Bet I could whoop yer ass.”

“Harry, you can’t beat somebody in catch!” you protest, the cool liquid gracing your lips, providing you a few seconds of relief from the summer heat. 

“We’ll just see ‘bout that, now won’t we?” he teases with a wiggle of his eyebrows. A tan, leather baseball glove hits you square in the chest, landing in your arms while he slips on a darker twin of it. “C’mon, I wanna see how girly of a throw ya got.”

“Oh, shut up. You have no idea what’s coming for you. You’re dating a former softball player here.”

“Am I now? Ya don’t seem that intimidatin’ t’ me, miss,” Harry laughs softly, the billowy cotton of his red Hawaiian themed shirt catching the wind once your feet find the grass. “Dunno how anythin’ can be intimidatin’ afta meetin’ yer bleedin’ father, tho’. Bloody hell,” he remarks, shaking his head. 

“It really wasn’t that bad, Harry,” you correct him, placing your tall can beside his dark glass bottle. 

“It was. Didn’t know he’d be so fookin’ hard on me, askin’ all o’ those questions. He never even smiled at me once, babe,” he scoffs, sliding the glove onto his large hand and messing around with it until it’s comfortable enough. 

“Yes, he did.”

“No, he didn’t. Or I didn’t see it. Dunno why he was so cold t’ me. Ya’ve always had such good things t’ say ‘bout growin’ up with him . . ,” he exhales, tossing the ancient brown and red baseball into the mitt. His short curls dance around atop his head as he crosses the large backyard, the very same one you played kickball in, where you hit home run balls into the woods, set cartwheel records in, and still have the pieces of wood set into the ground marking the bases. 

“He’s quiet, Harry, that’s all. You just have to find something in common with him, and then you’ll hit it off. I promise you, he liked you.”

“Don’t believe ya there, he was givin' me tha evil eye tha whole time durin’ dinna, even tho’ I was fakin’ likin’ his burgers. They were dry as hell,” he grumbles, soon coming to a stop a good way across the grassy area. Messing with his light-washed denim shorts, he checks his phone before letting it fall back into one of its pockets. “Reckon ‘s cuz yer his li’l girl, loads mo’ protective o’ you cuzz’a that.” 

“Keep going, I’m not a sissy.”

“Oh, so I should go long, ‘s that right? Dunno if ya can make it t’ me if I go back any farther,” he winks, the dimples set into his cheeks all the way from here, you notice.

“Would you hush? I pitched all throughout high school, I can make your hand hurt from catching it, if you keep running your mouth,” you argue. 

“Oooooo, she’s gettin’ feisty now,” he chuckles, raising his voice to carry across the clipped green grass, tall trees framing the yard. He pats his taut fist into the palm of the glove, the baseball snug in his large hand. Why, of course it is, Mr. Huge Hands.

Seconds later, the ball soars through the air and banks to the left, but with a jump, you catch it just in time. 

“What the hell was that?” you laugh, holding up your hands. 

“Erm, ‘m warmin’ up? Y’know, gotta get the old righty back in ‘s place,” he insists, stretching his dominant arm this way and that, ever so dramatically. 

“Whatever. You’re full of shit, Harry,” you call back, adding extra volume to your voice. His bottom lip escapes to between his teeth while his head goes from side to side. You surprise him with your throw and he misses it, pulling a loud laugh from your lips. “Not so confident, are we now?”

“Shuddup! Ya were a bloody softball player, ya got advantage ova me, ‘s not fair.”

“Don’t you start whining now! You’re the one who wanted to play catch with a five time-.”

“Ya ya, we get tha point, babe. Yer a bloody star when it comes t’ softball. I know, I know. Wish I coulda seen ya play, woulda been fun. Ya should join a summer league, they sound like a hoot,” he comments, locating the ball at last back in the woods and landing it in your glove. 

“And I played with my brother all of the time, and he was M.V.P two years in a row on his high school baseball team.”

“Good fer him, maybe he should be out here playin’ with you, instead,” Harry says when your throw to him sails over his head. “God, can ya control that arm o’ yers fer once?”

“Sorry!” you laugh, knowing that he doesn’t believe it for a second. 

“Sure ya are.” 

The ball arrives in your mitt with a pleasing whap! and your hand settles over it. Brushing your fingers along the coarse stitches, the shocks of green grass stains on the leather welcome you back to your childhood, tossing around this very same ball with your older brother and father. The nostalgia brings your hand to your pocket, and your fingers soon tap the screen of your phone. 

“C’mon, slow poke! What’re ya waitin’ fer? ‘Fraid ‘ll beat ya afta all?” Harry quips from across the yard, nearing you to retrieve his beer that he sips from. With a pleased ‘ahhhh,’ he sets it down on the gray cinder blocks of the nearby fire pit after walking back, placing enough space between him and it so he doesn’t run into it. 

Sliding your phone back into your pocket, music soon pours from the large bluetooth speaker in between you against the garage. 

“‘s this just fantasy? Caught inn’a landslide, no escape from realityyyyyy. Open yer eyes, look up t’ tha skies, and seeeeee,” Harry sings loudly, pumping his arms down at his sides and closing his eyes adamantly. “‘m just a poor boy, I need no sympathy. Because ‘m easy come, easy go, li’l high, li’l low.” 

“Any way the wind blows, doesn’t really matter to meeeeee,” you sing back, savoring the large smile painting his face as he catches your throw with ease. 

“Toooo meeee,” he sings back. “Mamaaaaaa just killed a man, put a gun against his head. Pulled my trigger, now’s he dead. Mamaaaaa, life had just begunnnn. But now ‘ve gone and thrown it all awayyyyy,” he sings to the baby blue skies dotted with clouds, adamantly strumming an invisible guitar. He echoes your laugh that flies between the two of you, joining the robins and starlings flitting between the trees. “Knew I picked a good one, she’s got a good arm and a bloody good taste in music. Ya betta play Take On Me next, or all bets are off.”

“Oh, you know that I will. It feels like an eighties night, playing catch in the backyard during the summer. It’s just like when I was little,” you note aloud, jogging to the right to catch his next throw until it falls into your glove. 

“‘Bout tha same fer me, just with footy, think this ‘s how ‘d like t’ spend my summers still . . I loved it so much, playin’ in tha backyard listenin’ t’ tha radio, and think my kids would too,” he says casually, sparking a blush in your cheeks at the mention of him as a father. Oh, what you would do to be able to see him playing catch with a little dark-haired boy or girl who calls him ‘Daddy.’ 

Fuck me, you think hastily. 

Quickly, your shared favorite part of the song comes and he imitates the guitar shredding while you repeatedly toss the ball into your mitt, watching him. 

“But eva since I watched Wayne’s World as a kid, I can’t avoid bangin’ my head when it gets t’ this part,” Harry chuckles, tossing a pop fly towards the overhang of tree branches. “I love tha trees here, ya know, ‘ve neva seen so many.” 

“Me too, I love that part in the movie, and I love them too. It’s crazy to think how long they’ve been around to get this big. Some of them were as tall as I am now when I was little.”

“Huh,” he hums curiously, shooting into the air to grab a high one you tried to trick him with. Your eyes can’t help but wander to his dark fern tattoos that peek out when his shirt rises. “Ya think I should keep it still, or get rid o’ it?” Harry poses to you, puckering his lips at you with a mischievous grin. 

“You almost remind me of Freddie Mercury with that ‘stache,” you say, the laugh growing from somewhere deep inside of you. He shrugs his shoulders and tosses a fast one back to you, hitting your glove square in the center with a heavy slap! 

“Dunno why ya think that’s such a good joke, ‘s a damn compliment, if ya ask me.” 

“Uh oh, are we getting a big head over there because you’ve caught my last three throws?” you joke, watching the ball soar high into the air amongst the green covering of the trees. 

“Hey, be easy on me,” he pouts, his words disagreeing with his actions that send a hot fastball into your palm. 

“Why? You’re never easy on me when we play Mario Kart or Cribbage.” 

“Hey! You don’t have a bleedin’ nearly professional career in any o’ those!” he protests and then curses when your curveball nicks the tip of his glove. 

“So, and neither do you, and you’re still aggressive as fuck when we play them! Huh, what’s your excuse, Harry?” 

“Galileo!” he calls out. 

“Galileo!” you echo, and the rest follow suit between the two of you as the song plays. 

“‘m just a poor boyyyyy, nobody loves me,” he sings loudly, causing you to cough on your drink that you take a swig from. 

“Keep telling yourself that,” you shoot back, setting down the wet can as he approaches you. 

“But I am,” he whines, pushing out his bottom lip that you flick with your finger. 

“Watch it!” 

“Or what?” you counter, savoring the annoyed expression that soon fills his features. There’s just something about pushing his buttons that gets you going, even though you know that you shouldn’t do it. 

“Or else I won’t bloody learn tha rest o’ Blackbird on guitar fer you,” he retorts playfully, taking a long pull from his bottle. 

Now, it’s your turn to shout ‘hey!’ until he scoops you into his arms, your surprised shriek piercing the sky. 

“You better finish learning it! But, I think that I like Freddie better.”

“How? Paul ‘s far betta. ‘ll always love Queen, and The Beatles don’t have anythin’ on Bohemian Rhapsody, but Paul ‘s tha betta musician. Trust me, I should know,” he disagrees, pecking your temple before pulling away and tossing the ball into your waiting glove. 

“But, Freddie had a four octave range.”

“And? So does Paul,” Harry shrugs, raising his left arm in the air to snag your fastpitch that he almost loses. “Paul McCartney ‘s tha superior musician, just trust me on this.” 

“Paul McCartney has nothing on Freddie Mercury,” a voice pipes up, turning the both of your heads to the right where you find your dad stepping out of the garage with a weathered black baseball glove snug upon his right hand. 

You swear that you could hear Harry’s apprehensive gulp from all of the way over here, and when you look, you find his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. 

“But Paul was betta on guitar, bass, and drums,” Harry argues, nervously tossing the ball into his glove repeatedly. 

Your dad closes the door behind him softly, and steps out on the grass, adjusting his glasses. Surprise is absent from your range of emotions when your dad shrugs his shoulders, but you’re sure that it coats Harry’s insides in the next few moments. 

“You’re right there, I like somebody who can stand up for their argument,” he comments, nodding a head towards Harry who out of the corner of your eye is smiling, just the slightest. “I think I might like this one,” he says to you, holding out his glove towards Harry, with his lips curling into his cheeks. 

The smile on your boyfriend’s face almost matches that of your father’s, but he’s got nothing on the grin plastered across Harry’s face because of your next words. 

“I think I do, too, Dad.”

[fortunatelyhauntedblackcherry]

Moonshine - A Beetlejuice Fanfiction 05

Warning: Swearing, mention of mental illness, Beetlejuice being smut and creepy... As always.

Ari was sitting on the side of her bed, head in her palms, breathing heavily.

- Either you are telling the truth or I'm going crazy. Or I'm tripping. Even though I don't do drugs. - Beetlejuice rolled his eyes. He was standing before her, with his hands crossed across his chest. His hair was in a light green shade with some light pink streaks in it.

- As I said previously, down in the living room you idiots, on purpose, bought a haunted house. - Ari looked up and nodded sarcastically. He was right, after all. - Seriously, what did you think, that you'll get unicorns?!

- Ghosts! - shouted Ari in a muffled voice. She didn't want her sisters to hear that she was talking to herself... But the hissing and scratching of Minerva before the door surely made a helping white-noise.

- Well I'm the leveled-up version of those suckers. - said Beetlejuice proudly and sat down next to Ari. - You might say I'm the ghost with the most! - the girl chuckled.

- Okay, if you really are the improved version of a ghost... - she shrugged - ...prove it!

- EEEEEH! - out of a sudden Beetlejuice imitated the sound of a siren which made Ari jump a bit. - Can't do that.

- Why?

- I can't interact with the human world. Only ghosts can do that. I can posess electronics and appear as smoke in mirrors, max. - Ari stood up and went to her full-size mirror.

- SHOW MEEEE! - she said in an excited voice. Even though she would really loved to talk to a demon, she thought this action would prove the fact that it's just her consciousness playing games with her and that she had to see a psychiatrist again, but a slightly human-shaped, green-ish white-ish smoke-shape appeared behind her and her lights started twitching.

- Helloouuu... - whispered Beetlejuice into her ear in a funny voice which didn't make her jump at all... No, it actually made her giggle. Beetlejuice raised his eyebrows. That was a first. Someone actually liked his jokes and funny voices. Weird.

- Ohmygodsthisissocool! - Ari was talking very fast and in a very high-pitched voice. She acted like a little girl, excited for her Christmas present. That made Beetlejuice smile. Nobody was that happy for him... Like... Ever. Ari turned around to where the voice came from the last time. - Gee I can't believe I am actually talking to a spectre. What are you doing normally? Just float around the house? Also, most of the time why do you sound like you just swallowed a cheese grater? - she stopped for a moment and continued in a more serious voice. - Also why do I hear you exactly? That bugs me a bit... to be honest.

- First: yeah, mostly I just follow you guys everywhere I can, floating around you. Watching. - he lowered his voice, his lips could almost touch Ari's ear. - I know. Very creepy. - Ari shivered like something just ran across her back. She hated being followed. She had bad experiences with that in the past. She noted to herself that she had to tell this demon not to do that oh so silently. - Second: you can't ask why does somebody sound like that, Karen! - he said sarcastically then went back to normal voice. - Also I'm dead, rotting, lower your expectations to that. Third: I have no idea but it's gonna be so much fun! - now he sounded like a child. He started to run around Ari in circles and clap little claps while he was talking. - It surely is interesting, but eh, who cares, the important thing is that now we can talk properly! And you can answer! And you can sing the songs I request! And react to my lewd comments! And we could have sleepovers and shit since now I can come in! - he changed into a more seductive tone and leaned closer to Ari. - Obviously R rated sleepovers cause I am a very sexual handsome being who you could totally not resist. - the girl blushed a little which made Beetlejuice even more horny than usual. But since he knew he couldn't do anything with her at the moment, he changed back to normal voice. - By the way I like what you did with the room, seeing it for the first time and I am shooketh how many stuff here is relating to the whole being dead thing. Babes, you have a problem. A cherishable, cute problem, but still a problem. - Ari laughed. Very loudly.

No surprise Beetlejuice liked her room. Although she followed her own path, she really liked the whole (kind of mainstream by now) witchy-gothic aesthetic and since horror was her sweet spot since she was a child, she had to decorate her bedroom in a certain way. Starting from the chandelier, which was basically a huge glowing pumpkin with wrought-iron tendrils all over it, the color of the ceiling changed from light orange to a pretty pumpkin colour, then continuing on the walls it slowly turned into a dark coppery reddish-orange. The hardwood floor was fully covered in soft grey carpet with little bats on it. There was a fake bat-skeleton, a fake raven-skeleton and little felted dolls in the form of the three witches from Hocus Pocus hanging from the chandelier. To the right of her door (which, by the way, was painted dark grey and had a "Sic gorgiamus allos subjectatos nunc" plaque on it), there was a big, wall-to-wall cabinet painted black with a full-size mirror on the right, and a dressing table in the middle embedded in it. Her makeup brushes and eyeshadows were already scattered around it 'cause she was messy. To the left of her door there was a shelf in the shape of the triple moon, with horror-movie figurines, crystals, Funko Pops and random skulls on it. Around it, family photos. Next to that, in the corner, there was a black, coffin-shaped shoe cabinet with pumpkin-coloured insides and leds in it, and with a sign that said "Dracula" on top of it. On the opposite wall, below the window there was Ari's sewing-corner with 2 sewing machines on the table. On the wall, opposing the wall-to-wall cabinet there was a ram skull, engraved with Edgar Allan Poe's s silhouette, with huge black horns curling backwards. Under it, on the wrought-iron bed there was a blanket with the bride of Frankenstein painted on it, and many pillows. On the two sides of the bed, there were little "nightstands" which were basically cages. One worked as a cat-prison for Minerva, padded with a soft mattress, with a night-lamp grabbed by a zombie hand on top of it. The other held Ari's favourite books, and had a little altar on it for her "weird witchcraftsy shit", as Rei said many times before. In front of the bed there was a black chest, filled with random pieces of fabric and patterns for clothes, the top of it covered in soft black and white striped velvet. Next to that, there were 2 Paris dolls, one on each side.

- Thanks, I am the breathing, living version of Halloween. - she sat down before her dressing table, looking directly into the mirror so she could see the shape of the demon again. - And... Yeah, please stop the creeping around. At least when you come into a room where I'm at, just whistle or something so I could know that you're there. - she turned around, facing the middle of the room and blinked sweetly. - Please? - Beetlejuice sighed with resignation. He couldn't say no to those pretty, living eyes.

- If your pets even let me near you, then okay. Your stupid cat always hisses at me and won't let me come into your room... I mean I could float above her but I'm legitimately afraid for my afterlife around her, it's weird, I don't get it either. And your actually scary dog... I'm not even sure that's a dog, that looks like a wolf, so yeah, that mongrel almost ripped my arm off last week! You have to convience them that I'm not trying to hurt you! -  begged Beetlejuice. - I could only come up with you now cause I was faster than those suckers. - Ari stood up and went to the door where Minerva was still scratching the door into pieces.

- You know in many ancient cultures, dogs and cats were considered as guardians of the underworld or bodyguards for their owners against demons. For example in the Aztec religion, dogs were associated with Xolotl, the god of death. Or in Egypt cats were used as protectors against evil spirits.

- Thanks for the history lesson, miss-know-it-all. - said Beetlejuice sarcastically with a snort. Ari rolled her eyes.

- So I suppose they can see you, right?

- Yeah... I thought I'd use them to get you guys' attention but... - he stretched his arms out in Ari's direction. - ...I have you!

Ari smiled. She was still not sure he was not malevolent like those spirits from The Conjuring, but he didn't feel like someone with a super evil plan going down.

- You know maybe they just love me and want to protect me. - she sat back on her chair. - You know, Sirius is a tamascan, a guarddog, a wolf-type. He looks like he could rip you in half but actually he's a sweetheart. Yeah, his teeth are sharp as needles but he only uses them to chew up his toys. - Ari shrugged. - He doesn't even know how enormous he is. He looks very fierce and heisty but mostly he just sits on people's laps. - Beetlejuice floated right next to the girl again. He was so close Ari could feel that icy coldness on her skin again.

- You should sit on MY lap. - he said in an arousing voice. Ari looked the way the voice came from.

- Shut up. - she said in a sharp voice. BJ rolled his eyes and went a bit further. - Minerva would totally kill you though. She should be a very social breed, but she basically hates everybody and wants to kill everything that moves. So yeah, beware of the claws. They hurt more than you can imagine. - Ari held up one of her hands with a huge scratchmark on it. Beetlejuice chuckled.

- I don't feel pain.

- Oh you'd feel that, trust me!

Ari looked at her clock. It was almost 2 in the afternoon.

- Oh shit, man, I gotta go to work. First day, I can't be late. - she went to her bed and started to pack her sheet music rapidly into a red bag. Beetlejuice walked up to her and with hope in his eyes and fully green hair, he asked:

- Before you go... Can't you... Say my name 3 times? - Ari looked at his way with a raised eyebrow.

- Why do you want me to do that?

- Cause that would lift me out of this weird alternate state and I could roam earth while being seen! Now I can't leave this house but once being summoned, I could! And I haven't been out since literal decades! - he sounded so desperate. - Please don't make me beg... I will... I just... Okay you know what, I'm begging. - he threw himself on his knees and tried to grab Ari's trousers, but his hands went right through them. - I'm just so sick and tired of being invisible! - Ari made a weird little sound of shock.

- I don't even know your name, and you seriously think I would let you roam free? I just met ya...

- PLEASE! JUST DO IT!!! I WOULD DO ANYTHING, SCARE ANYONE, JUST PLEASE SAY IT! I SWEAR I'LL LEAVE SOON AFTER!!! - he was nearly crying, his hair started to turn into fully purple. Ari was thinking about her options. She could either let a wild entity roam free, or have someone murder her father or one of her exes and then just leave. That sounded good.

- That's a flattering offer so... Kay, what's your name then?

Beetlejuice stuttered.

- I... - he sighed. - I can't say it. - he said with total hopelessness in his voice and tears in his eyes. He sounded so miserable. Ari squatted down to him. She didn't even know, but she was looking straight into Beetlejuice's eyes. Her warm smile made him feel a bit better, but he was still miserable.

- Then how could I help you, Bug? - he stayed silent. That nickname actually sounded cute. - Yeah, I heard you munching on them. So let's stick with that name until I find out why do I hear you and what is your actual name, shall we? - she would've just pat his head if she could see him. He sounded so alone. She knew exactly how that felt.

- Kay. - said BJ in a repressed voice as he viped his tears and nose in his jacket. Ari wrinkled her nose at his direction, snapped up her bag and headed for the door. Beetlejuice got up quickly and floated before her, if nothing would've happened. - Wait, what am I supposed to do while you're gone? - Ari shrugged her shoulders.

- I don't know, haunt my sisters' electronics? Find out if they can interact with you too? - there was no answer so she just waved goodbye. - I'll be back at 11-ish. - and with that, she went to work.

But Beetlejuice was still there. He rubbed his hands maniacally and talked to himself in a very evil, raspy way.

- Oh I would love to do that. Of course, I might have to get a little... Mean... I might have to get a little... Nasty... But if you want me to act like a demon... Then I'll be a demon 😈

[itwillbeall-dwight]

angel trap

chapter 1 of 2 - ‘acid pit’

amanda young & david tapp; character study; 1214 words

a/n: (doesn’t watch saw) amanda young call meeee <3 <3

im a pig main now so ofc im gonna get hoity-toity about the jigsaw philosophy. i also have daddy issues so i would like amanda to have a good dad figure in my place. and also also i love detective tapp sir kiss me now challenge.

chapter 2 should be coming in the next few days so i’ll edit this when it does, as well as making its own post.

be safe everyone!

likes < reblogs, any comments in the tags are appreciated

ao3 mirror in the reblogs!

Preview: “You don’t know me.” The Pig growled, low and animalistic, out a response after a brief pause to contemplate, slowly tilting her head as she looked over to him. “You did not live long enough to see how he guided me to salvation.” Tapp paused, swallowing for a moment and looking down to his half-empty glass, before looking back up to the pig-headed killer. “You call it salvation, I call it brainwashing and torture.” “He cared for me when your system thought of me as nothing more than a selfish addict and a helpless victim. He taught me life was worth living, had a purpose despite my digressions, and how people like me swindle their chance and don’t deserve it.” “Deserve a chance at redemption, like you got? Thought that killing them was the best way to teach ‘em that?” She fell silent. Tapping on the counter, faster now. “They deserved as much of a chance as you got, surely.” “You don’t understand anything about what he taught me-” “Then help me!” Tapp leaned forward slightly, raising his voice enough to make her flinch. His hands gripped at the glass tightly. “Help me understand the way he twisted and turned you so badly that you turned into…” The Pig looked up. “Into what, Detective? A monster? Is that what you want to call me?”

The creaking of old boots echoed behind her, slowly fading out of earshot, as finally, The Pig had been left alone, sitting at the bar of the Dead Dawg Saloon.

 A sigh escaped her, reverberating around the inside of her mask, as she was finally left alone to reflect on her test. The Gideon Meat Plant was silent yet deafening, yet the being who cheated death had given it to her as a realm to reside in, while she continued its wishes. But it was not hers - it would never be hers. She wanted to break free, if only for a moment, and the silence of Glenvale was perfect to ease her screaming mind. Guilt, torment, suffering - visions of blood on her hands and screaming in her ears. Everything she had done, had wanted to do in the future. Feelings swirling around her chest, making her both dizzy and numb. She just wanted a drink.

 “This seat taken?”

The sound of the strained, whispy voice startled her, looking up through the eyeholes of her mask to see the familiar face of Detective David Tapp looking down at her. From within the pig head, her nose curled. “Suppose it is.”

He pulled out the stool beside her and sat down, looking forward at the racks of dusty liquors residing behind the bar, cobwebs gathering along the necks and corks of the bottles. Tapping his fingers against the wood, he glanced down at the Pig slid her glass down to him with a slight motion, the cold glass nudging the back of his hand. 

Tapp took it with a quiet thank you, nodding and holding it up to her before he took a drink, recoiling a little. 

She chuckled, dryly. “Strong?”

“Old. Fits, but… nothing like I’m used to.”

“You should always adapt to your environment and circumstances, Detective.”

He looked over to her, and cocked his eyebrow. “Another one of Jigsaw’s mantra’s he forced onto you?”

The Pig’s fingers wrapped against the counter of the bar. “One of the lessons he taught me.”

 He hummed, taking a drink, tilting his head back and looking at the ceiling (he did not see, through the eyeholes of her mask, how she looked at the scar that stretched across his neck - analysing it, inquisitively, looking for flaws in her own technique that her mentor could still teach her, so far away).

 “So what brings you here?” 

She despised small talk. What was there to say, she hated the crippling loneliness of being surrounded and trapped by her failures? She bit her tongue. “...Call it a vacation.”

“Can’t get any more exotic than this, huh? Good ol’... western.” Tapp gave a quiet chuckle, looking around the saloon before he leaned forward again, resting his arms against the bar and looking to the Pig. “Better than anything in NYC, I suppose.”

She huffed. “I suppose. ...Yourself?”

“...Oh, me? Investigating.” A pause as he took a drink. “Never hurts to try and look for a way out. Cracks in this hellhole, try and make sense of it all.”

Her eyes looked him up and down, as she folded her arms on the bar. “You never stop, do you, Detective?”

He laughed a little, almost self-aware of his tendency to fruitlessly obsess. “Can’t stop. If not for myself, then for the people here trapped, like you.”

“Because you have nothing to return to, so you continue to attempt to be selfless.”

“And you have something to return to, Amanda?” He looked over at her. She scowled out of his view.

 “You don’t know me.” The Pig growled, low and animalistic, out a response after a brief pause to contemplate, slowly tilting her head as she looked over to him. “You did not live long enough to see how he guided me to salvation.”

Tapp paused, swallowing for a moment and looking down to his half-empty glass, before looking back up to the pig-headed killer. “You call it salvation, I call it brainwashing and torture.”

“He cared for me when your system thought of me as nothing more than a selfish addict and a helpless victim. He taught me life was worth living, had a purpose despite my digressions, and how people like me swindle their chance and don’t deserve it.”

“Deserve a chance at redemption, like you got? Thought that killing them was the best way to teach ‘em that?”

She fell silent. Tapping on the counter, faster now.

“They deserved as much of a chance as you got, surely.”

“You don’t understand anything about what he taught me-”

“Then help me!” Tapp leaned forward slightly, raising his voice enough to make her flinch. His hands gripped at the glass tightly. “Help me understand the way he twisted and turned you so badly that you turned into…”

The Pig looked up. “Into what, Detective? A monster? Is that what you want to call me?”

He gritted his teeth, and looked down to his glass, listening to her give another dry laugh.

“You’re nothing but a blind coward. A dead fool who thought for nothing significant.”

“A blind coward who wants justice for the people who you hurt… against the man who hurt you.”

Her nose wrinkled in disgust. But she bit her tongue. She would teach him, soon enough.

Silence fell between them now, the wind outside the saloon pushing and pulling on the doors outside, and the hooks that remained out of use, at least for now.

 “It doesn’t matter anyway.” She mused, glancing at him as he looked up at her. “Both you and I are stuck in our own game, a test of will. I suppose we’ll just have to see how wins, shall we?”

Tapp almost squinted, before he finished the last of his drink and placed the glass down with a quiet tap of wood against glass. Against the dusty, rotting floorboards, his stool squeaks, before he stood to his feet and pushed the chair back in again. “Guess so.”

She did not turn as the detective left, footsteps on the old floorboards echoing through the tall saloon ceiling, listening as he paused by the door. The world outside whistled with no wind, as if time itself stood still.

“Let me know if you finally want someone to listen to you, Amanda.” He called out to her, looking behind him with a hand on the open door. “I know no one else has.”

And with that, David Tapp fixed his hat, and resumed a wide sweep of Glenvale, to no avail. The Pig - no, her name was Amanda - remained seated, staring at the glass that had once been at that man's lips as he told her poison. She thought about this in silence, until that cowboy came back and forced her back to the meat plant.

 The next time she saw Tapp - in the Yamaoka Estate, among shrubbery and wooden walls - she hunted him like prey, getting him down to the floor with ease and precision. He turned to look up at her, the determination in her eyes striking her for a moment before she sat on his chest, and gently traced the scar across his throat with the tip of her wrist blade. But she would not end his life yet.

 She would show him baptism.

[luciddrreamss]

Wrestlemania Night

@wrestlingfae it's not the best but you wanted us to tag you in wrestlemania fics sooo, here it is.

Pairing - Seth Rollins x Reader

Word count - ion know

Warnings - cursing

Extras - Includes flashback, bf/n is boyfriends name, it can be fake

Enjoy this terribleness

____________________

My best friend had a match tonight, for the Universal Championship. Seth Rollins going up against Brock Lesnar.

He said tonight's a special night, I made a bet with him around Wrestlemania 34, I remember it like it was yesterday.

Flashback

"Omg, bf/n won't stop calling meeee." Seth chuckled, "He just wants to distract you from being one of the best managers of all time." He said, making me smile.

"I am pretty good aren't I?" I winked up at him, "You bet." He pulled me in for a hug. When my phone rang again, "Oh my- hi bf/n!"

He started laughing, "I said I won't be tomorrow, NO YOU CAN'T CATCH THE NEXT FLIGHT TO HERE!" He started rambling about something, "Okay bf/n, I gotta go. Love you too, bye."

"You gotta let him go Y/N. He's too attached, and when he's not he looks at other women." I shrugged, "He hasn't cheated yet." "With his dick, no, with his eyes, yes."

He started to raise his eyebrows up and down, "Oh my god, Seth." I swatted his chest. "Here I have a bet, if you guys aren't together by Mania 35, and I win one of the biggest matches of my career, if I have one, can I kiss you on the biggest stage of them all?"

"Hmm, sounds impossible."

"You don't think you'll break up?" "Nope, I don't think you'll have a big match." I laughed, his mouth fell open, "Oh you're dead," he laughed before I ran away.

Back to present

So Seth was right about two things. He does have a big match, AND bf/n and I broke up. He even said, "Y/N tonight's the night." He smiled, "Quiet weirdo it's not over yet."

"Aren't you my manager? You're supposed to be supportive. Lesnar could kill me tonight!"

"Then if you want to beat Lesnar, become champ, AND kiss me, you know what to do," I leaned to whispered in his ear, "Slay the beast."

I turned to walk away to get ready, I looked back and saw him smiling with his dopey grin.

2 hours later

We were back in the gorilla, watching as Alexa and Hulk on stage, gross.

Then out walked out Paul.

He said their match was gonna be right now! "Did you know about this?" He asked, "No!"

I watched the monitor, before I realized it was time to go on.

I was shaking, I wanted to walk away, but I heard "Burn it down" and we had to walk out.

"Fuck." I mumbled to myself. But before I knew it, we were on stage, it was sure loud. We looked at each other, "You ready Y/N?" He quietly asked me. "Hell no. A bitch is still shaking."

"Oh-"

"ENOUGH OF ME LET'S GO!" We started walking down as fast as my short/long legs could take me.

But as soon as Seth was about to get in the ring, he got hit. Brock was hitting him, left and right, throwing him into the barricade, into the ring post, getting thrown over the announce table. Everything that could've possibly happened, happened.

The bell finally rang, Brock tried to pin him, he kicked out.

I didn't even notice I was jumping up and down. Then they started going back and forth. Then the referee fell out the ring.

Seth pulled a low blow. I laughed, he pulled his first curb stomp.

Lesnar still wasn't down.

A second one was delivered. Lesnar was still up. He looked at me, "Do it Rollins!" I encouraged him, smiling. A trifecta of curb stomps.

He went for the pin.

One.

Two.

Three.

My eyes were wide, my mouth was agape. I finally realized that Seth was Universal Champion. My surprise turned into a smile, I climbed in the ring.

I stood next to him, watching him raise the title up in the air. I thought I could sneak away and we walked up the ramp. Before I could walk out he grabbed my arm. He motioned for the cameras to come up. "I believe you owe me something Ms. Y/N." He looked at/down at me.

"I think I do."

My hand snaked up his head, cradled it.

He put his hand up on my cheek. I smiled.

"You win the bet, Rollins."

We attached lips, and at the right time fireworks went off. We pulled apart and smiled at each other.

"I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too, Seth."

He might have won the championship last night, but that kiss will be what I remember forever.

[pengiesama]

A Cat-astrophic Curse (Fic, Sorey/Mikleo)

Title: A Cat-astrophic Curse Series: Tales of Zestiria Pairing: Sorey/Mikleo

Summary:

“I have my doubts that Little Miss Hotpants meant for it to turn out this way. If she even had a gameplan in the first place.” “My plan is to go out and play with Mikleo!” kitty-Sorey announced proudly. “And then we’ll read together and eat Mikleo’s de-lic-ious treats and cuddle all night!” Edna rose one critical eyebrow at kitty-Sorey. “Are we a hundred percent positive that she actually did anything to him at all?” she asked flatly.

In which a cunning villain turns the Gentle Shepherd into a Japanese cartoon cat mascot.

Link: AO3 

This was a commission for Karin/firidus on twitter!

Check out my commission info here.

Read on Tumblr!

“What’s on the menu for today?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see. Go back to the tent and read, and I’ll bring it over once it’s finished.”

“Well, now you’ve gotten me all curious, so there’s no way that I can just go and read. C’mon, Mikleo, tell meeee…”

“It’s a new recipe! Telling you anything about it would jinx it.”

“Everything you make is amazing. But I think this recipe could maybe use a little bit of extra spice while you stir…”

And then the tickling started. It was an altogether entirely revolting display. Symonne scowled down at the heartwarming scene beneath her feet, mulling over how to best destroy it.

Symonne had initially been perched atop a nearby cliff face, for it was the highest point in the area, and to properly loom menacingly over one’s unsuspecting prey one needed to be at the highest point in the area. But it was also a little bit too far away for her to see or hear anything, which was also an important aspect of looming and menacing, so she had to move to a nearby tree instead. She managed to climb up it well enough, but didn’t really know how to get down. The bark scratched her, there were bugs, and tweety little birds and fluffy forest animals. Leaves and twigs were stuck in her hair. And now the Shepherd and that water seraph were flirting and canoodling and being generally loathsome right in front of her.

All these various inconveniences compounded on Symonne’s psyche, upsetting its delicate (and questionable) balance, and drove her to a single conclusion:

She needed to kill them both immediately.

There was the matter of her master’s wishes to consider, but...Symonne squinted and thought back. She kind of forgot what her master was going for with this Shepherd. In fact, she couldn’t really remember the last time she got a specific and direct order about performing acts of chaos and various mischiefs. Her master had always been rather hands-off with his management of his loyal followers. He just kinda let them do whatever, and then wandered off to stand in a single spot in the middle of a field for weeks at a time. It was nice on paper, and allowed her a lot of artistic freedom, but sometimes she felt that she could do with a bit more direction. She would have to remember to bring this topic up in her next employee evaluation.

“S-sorey! S-stop! You’re going to make me spill everything everywhere!”

“I can’t help it, Mikleo! I’ve been possessed by the dreaded Tickle Hellion! Remember me as the man I was, not the man I have become!”

That laughter. Those kissy noises. This would all end now.

Symonne raised her wand, and began to wind up an incantation. She would addle that Shepherd’s mind, make that water seraph of his look like a delicious and irresistible treat to devour, and -- when he’d eaten his beloved whole -- she would restore to him his senses and allow him to fall to despair. A perfect plan, and one that surely would have worked flawlessly if not for the rogue falling apple that dropped from its branch squarely onto Symonne’s head. It disrupted her concentration, and also disrupted her balance, causing her to plummet to the forest floor below, screeching and firing off magic all the while.

Sorey and Mikleo’s romantic interlude was thus interrupted by a falling, screaming, spellcasting, disturbingly-half-dressed visitor. They barely had half a moment to take in the situation when one of her spells ricocheted off a rock and hit Sorey square in the chest. He was enveloped in a cloud of sparkly pink smoke, obscuring him completely from view. Mikleo let out a frantic, panicked shout of Sorey’s name, and dove into the cloud to try and retrieve him before whatever wicked curse Symonne wrought took its hold.

The commotion brought the rest of the team running, abandoning their foraging efforts to rush back to the campsite. Rose reached the site first -- she prepared herself for the worst: to be greeted by swarms of hellions, a squadron of soldiers, the sight of Sorey’s crumpled, bloodied body in Mikleo’s arms. But she could not have expected the sight of what truly awaited her.

“Hey, hey--! You’re back, you’re back!”

Rose stared as a tiny cat-like creature toddled up to her feet. Its pure white fur was accented by black whiskers, and a big blue bow jauntily bounced on its head as it hopped up and down in front of her. She would have written it off as just another oddity of this new Squire gig, some sort of distant normin relative, but…

That mop of mussed brown hair atop the creature’s head was eerily familiar. And this tiny creature was dressed in a perfect, equally tiny replica of Sorey’s clothes. The complicated cloak, those goofy feather earrings, the whole shebang. And the real Sorey was nowhere to be seen in their camp.

Mikleo -- the resident expert on all things Sorey -- was busy binding an unconscious Symonne to a tree with a sort of manic, frantic determination. He seemed so engrossed in the effort that Rose almost felt that she shouldn’t bother him. But, considering the situation, she really had to bother him. She coughed lightly, and Mikleo’s head whirled to stare at her; his eyes wild.

“...,” Rose began. “...uh. What’d we miss?”

“Mikleo was making us dessert, and I was tickling him!” the kitty-Sorey squeaked out. “It looked sooooo tasty, and Mikleo is so so so pretty--!”

“Uh-huh,” Rose replied. This kitty-Sorey seemed to have the same general thought processes as the normal Sorey, if a bit higher-pitched. “And then what?”

“And then there was a biiiiig crash, BOOM! And then all this pink glitter, and I got little!”

Which was Symonne’s doing, no doubt. Rose walked over to where Mikleo had secured her. She heard the rapid patter of tiny feet behind her as she went.

“I’m guessing you haven’t gotten any info from her,” Rose observed. She cautiously reached out to turn Symonne’s head enough to bring the big bump on it into better view. “She’s out like a light.”

“I... I should have been more careful,” Mikleo managed to get out. His body looked like it was wound up so tight, it was a wonder he could even breathe. “I was distracted and didn’t hear her coming, I didn’t shove Sorey out of the way quickly enough, I…”

His despair was interrupted by the intervention of kitty-Sorey pattering up and nuzzling his chin against Mikleo’s knee -- with Mikleo crouched on the ground, it was the tallest part of him that kitty-Sorey was able to reach. kitty-Sorey made a soft noise, and raised his stubby little arms in the air until Mikleo picked him up -- carefully, gently, as if he was cradling something infinitely precious and utterly irreplaceable. He brought kitty-Sorey close to his chest, and sighed raggedly. kitty-Sorey made a satisfied noise, and continued to nuzzle whatever part of Mikleo was closest. It seemed to settle Mikleo, and bit by bit, Rose saw the tension in his shoulders ease.

By this point, the rest of the team had finally made their appearance. kitty-Sorey waved both little arms in excitement as they approached.

“Hi! Hi! Hello! Yay, everyone’s here--!” he cheered.

“Oh my…” Lailah murmured. “Sorey, you’ve…you’ve entered something of a cat-atonic state.”

Lailah puffed out her cheeks, trying to suppress her laughter. Still holding her breath, she looked around excitedly at the rest of the team, waiting for someone to celebrate her wordplay. Celebration failed to occur. Edna strode up to where Mikleo crouched, to where their prisoner was bound, and poked at the bump on Symonne’s head with the end of her umbrella.

“I have my doubts that Little Miss Hotpants meant for it to turn out this way,” Edna said idly. “If she even had a gameplan in the first place.”

“My plan is to go out and play with Mikleo!” kitty-Sorey announced proudly. “And then we’ll read together and eat Mikleo’s de-lic-ious treats and cuddle all night!”

Edna continued to idly jab her umbrella at various parts of Symonne. She rose one critical eyebrow at kitty-Sorey.

“Are we a hundred percent positive that she actually did anything to him at all?” she asked flatly.

Lailah’s held breath exploded from her with a graceless, trumpeting wheeze, and she clapped in helpless delight.

“POSITIVE! PAW-SITIVELY PAW-SITIVE!” she announced to, like, the abstract concept of anyone who found her sense of humor appealing. “Purr-haps there’s a paws-sibility that we can break this absolutely a-paw-ling curse on our dear Shep-purred…”

Slowly, gently, Zaveid approached Lailah; making soothing noises and sidestepping her in her erratic movements like one would when approaching a bucking horse. He removed his hat from his head and lowered it onto Lailah’s head; pushing it down until her face was obscured and her voice was muffled. She did not appear to fully be aware of the additional accessory to her person, and continued to ramble on; her voice muted by the hat’s felting.

“Thank you, Zaveid,” said Rose. She checked the back of her hand, examining the skin there. “...I think I just got hives from saying that.”

Zaveid gave a cheeky little bow, and then sat down next to Mikleo. His composure was a blessing in itself, and seemed to further calm Mikleo’s rattled nerves.

“Lemme take a look at this little squirt for a quick second, Meeboy.”

Hesitantly, Mikleo unwrapped himself from Sorey just enough for Zaveid to give kitty-Sorey a quick look-over. Zaveid examined his tiny cloak; the embroidery on it so delicate that it looked like it was wrought by fairies, the feathers so small that they looked like wisps of dandelion fluff. He poked his white cheek; squishy and soft like mochi, and it elicited a sweet giggle from kitty-Sorey that jingled like a bell. kitty-Sorey buried his face back into Mikleo’s chest for a moment, then wriggled until he’d scaled Mikleo to perch on his shoulder and nuzzle against his neck and ear.

“Well. I can tell you that he’s definitely the real Sorey -- he’s got the same soul rattling around in that cute little noggin, and the same air about him,” Zaveid said. He scratched at his chin and frowned. “She definitely cursed him good. I don’t know how long the transfiguration spell will last, though. That kinda magic was never really my bag…”

“Who does know about that kind of magic?” Mikleo asked quietly. His hand came up to touch kitty-Sorey at his shoulder, to confirm he was there, or to comfort himself. kitty-Sorey giggled and grabbed Mikleo’s finger between his paws, steering it to poke his own nose. “Please. You must know of someone.”

“Are you in despair!? Do you feeeeeel the agony crushing your heart like a vize!?”

The team slowly turned to look at Symonne, who had woken up and broken out of the rope bindings while they were chatting. Her hair and clothing were a mess from the fall. She wobbled on her feet, and couldn’t really focus her eyes, so she probably had a concussion brewing in her fevered little skull. Still, she managed a manic grin, and tilted her head back to crow with laughter.

“Experience a taste of the magnificent salvation my master will bring to this wretched world!”

“Heldalf wants to turn us all into cats?” Rose asked, confused. “I mean, I guess cats are like...his thing.”

“Ah,” Edna said, making a face. “So he’s one of those.”

“One of what?” asked Mikleo, confused. “A cat person?”

Lailah un-hatted herself long enough to rejoin the discussion. “I think Edna means he’s a fur-midable opponent!”

“Yes,” Edna replied. “And no.”

Zaveid huffed. “Hey now, I’m not just gonna stand around while y’all besmirch the much-maligned name of a proud and noble people!”

“We all know what you think, Zaveid. We know your tastes.” Edna emphasized the last word, deliberately. “I’ve seen the stuff you like on Twitter at two in the morning--”

“Stop misinterpreting my master’s glorious vision!!” shrieked Symonne, nearly falling over in her rage, and present lack of inner ear function.

“What is your master’s vision, exactly?” asked Mikleo.

Symonne’s eyes went unfocused again, and she was silent for a long moment while she visibly tried to think of an answer. kitty-Sorey raised his paw politely, and waited for Mikleo to boop it with his finger before speaking.

“I have a vision! I spy, with my little eye, something that begins with -- Mikleo!” kitty-Sorey cuddled up to Mikleo’s neck again, happily. “It’s ‘Mikleo’! I see Mikleo! Mikleo, I love you--!”

Symonne turned green, and made a retching noise; doubling over as if she was about to vomit all over the forest floor. Edna tsked in disapproval.

“Oh come on,” she said. “They’re insufferable, but that’s just overdramatic.”

Symonne lurched upright, and brandished her wand once more. The group immediately went on guard.

“No more. No more of this,” Symonne said, pointing her wand squarely at kitty-Sorey.

kitty-Sorey blinked, and placed a single paw on his chin. His ears twitched with the motion.

It was the last straw. The last, adorable straw. Symonne shrieked in rage, and in the blink of an eye, kitty-Sorey was surrounded by the same glittery pink smoke that transformed him at the first; obscuring both him and Mikleo from view. There was a thud, and the sound of Mikleo yelping. When the smoke cleared, Sorey was back to his original form, and was cradling Mikleo in his arms as he knelt on the forest floor.

“Are you okay, Mikleo?” Sorey asked, concerned. The big blue bow was still firmly attached to his head. “I’m so sorry; I must have hurt your shoulder when I changed back…”

Mikleo couldn’t even try to hide the smile that crossed his face, and allowed his fingers to trace the line of that jaw that he’d already missed so dearly. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine, now.”

Sorey leaned into Mikleo’s palm, then leaned in for a kiss. The shimmering pink smoke floated about them in the midsummer breeze, catching rays of sunlight as it drifted. It showed no signs of settling or dispersing; as if it was content to frame the pair in their own little world for a while longer.

“They...just don’t stop,” Symonne said, as much in awe as disgust at the scene before them.

“You’re preaching to the choir,” Edna grumbled. She turned to face Symonne, and tapped her umbrella against the palm of her own open hand. “So, listen. You’re gonna teach me that spell so I can use it to torment the plebeians that orbit me, or else I’m going to shatter your kneecaps…”

[imagine-the-feels]

Coming Back Home

Request:   Can I ask for a Derek Hale imagine? YN is Stiles older sister and she's known Derek since kids, BUT she became a witch (we need those in the show ) and went away to study her craft. when she came back, she helps the Pack and her and Derek finally confess their feelings. what do you think?

A/N: I am so bad at being on time someone help meeee. This also got angstier than I expected.

Word Count: 2,888

Warnings: Angst, Derek is a case (briefly)...and fluff

You knew it’d been awhile since you’d gone back to your home town. As you drove past the welcome sign, you felt an immediate shift of energy in the atmosphere around you, and the hair on you arms rose. The power within you stirred, and you fought down a shiver that crawled up the back of your neck.

Welcome back to Beacon Hills.

You were, in simple terms, a witch. Someone who had raw power coursing through their veins since birth, who could harness it into physical energy and spells in the world around you. You had been currently studying your craft in a secluded part of Canada, until your father had called for you to come back home.

The day you had found out about your abilities had been the day your adoptive mother Claudia Stilinski had passed away, and your adoptive father found you in the basement of the hospital surrounded by an green energy that looked poised to kill. He had eventually calmed you down, but soon he got you the help he couldn’t give you. He visited you as much as he could so that Stiles wouldn’t ask many questions. You both wanted him far away from the supernatural world, but it seemed from your Dad’s updates the attempts were futile.

Memories both good and bad flooded your senses as you drove through the streets of Beacon Hills, driving a nostalgic feeling into you as you remembered your childhood. From hot days of summer outing with the family, to getting into insurmountable trouble with mini Scott and Stiles, to falling in love with a young Derek Hale before you had to leave.

With all this going through your brain, you had to momentarily take a breather to have it not overwhelm you. Eventually you had reached your destination of the Beacon Hills Sheriff Department, and you took a deep breath before putting the car in park and walking into the station.

It seemed busy enough that no one saw you make a beeline straight to your Dad’s office, where you saw yourself facing the backs of Scott and Stiles while your Dad had an exhausted look on his face.

“So you’re telling me,” he sighed. “That Derek took a dip in the fountain of youth?”

“No,” Stiles corrected. “He was contained in a tomb full of Wolfsbane. In Mexico. In Aztec Ruins. Underneath a church.”

“Goddamn,” your Dad groaned, catching your eye and giving an expression that said “Do you see what I’m dealing with?”

“Well it’s a good thing I called in backup for you boys,” Sheriff Stilinski nodded towards you, and both boys turned around.

“(Y/N)!” Stiles yelled, grabbing you into his arms and burying his face into your hair. “Welcome back!” He mumbled, and you smiled, giving him one more big squeeze before stepping back to hug Scott.

“So who’s our backup?” Stiles questioned, and your Dad and you shared an eyeroll before you went over to give him a bear hug.

“I think it might be your sister,” Scott mumbled, and Stiles raised an eyebrow.

“My sister.” He stated, and everyone nodded. “(Y/N), who’s been away to a boarding school in Canada, is our backup for our supernatural problems. I find that hard to believe.”

“I’m literally right here Stiles,” you interrupted, but  he brushed it off.

“Dad,” he protested. “What can she possibly know about the supernatural?”

“A lot more than you might think Son,” he replied before looking down at you. “Do you wanna tell him or should I?”

“Tell me what?”

“My sister. (Y/N). Is a witch.”

“Stiles,” Scott warned from the passenger seat of the jeep, while Stiles drove to his house with you in the back. 

“My sister. (Y/N). Is Shego reincarnate.”

“Does that make Lydia Kim Possible?” Scott wondered.

“With you as Ron and my brother as Rufus the Naked Mole Rat?” You spoke up, giggling at the look on Stiles’ face.

“I do not appreciate that,” he mumbled.

“I don’t appreciate you talking about me like I’m not right here,” You shot back.

“Well you never are anyway,” Stiles snapped. “You’re never home and the one time you actually are you‘re dropping this bomb onto me like I’m not your brother and shouldn’t have already known!”

The air in the jeep became silent and tense, and you sighed. “Stiles---”

“It doesn’t matter anyways,” he muttered, resting is elbow on the car door. “Nothing ever does anymore does it.”

Surprised by the sudden turn of events, you sat back and looked out your window without another word. Before things could get tenser than it already was, Scott spoke up and started to fill you in on the situation.

Things got even more awkward when you came face-to-face with Derek Hale---who hadn’t aged a day since you last saw him. And while it was a nice memorable moment, you knew that’s not how it’s supposed to be.

The good news, he seemed just as awestruck to see you as you were to see him. 

“Goddamn,” he mumbled, a tiny smile lifting the corner of his lips. “I’m so glad I’m hitting that in the future.”

You choked on your own saliva at his words, rubbing the back of your neck while Stiles started whistling and Scott took a new interest in the floor. 

“I’m gonna go...get my laptop to start researching anything we missed,” Scott spoke up, turning around quickly and leaving. 

“I’m going to order pizza, and help him,” Stiles said right after, leaving just as suddenly.

Opening your mouth to call out after them, you couldn’t summon the words and when you turned back around Derek was sporting a confused look on his face. 

“When do you get back?” He questioned. “The last thing I remember is your Dad telling me you left to Boarding School up north...so when did you get back?”

You look down at your shoes, toeing your feet into the living room carpet. “You know, I’m not very good with keeping track of time, and I can’t remember---”

“Bullshit,” Derek interrupted, walking up to you where he still towered over you for about an inch. “You dig your toes into the ground when you’re lying. I know you that well enough.” He paused, raising his hand slowly to grasp your chin and bringing it up so you could meet his gaze. “Tell me the truth.”

You bit your lip shaking slightly because you knew just how angry he’d be. You didn’t say goodbye to him in the past for the exact same reason, and telling him you never came back was something you never thought you’d have to explain. But looking deep into his eyes and remembering all the time you both had together as well as the time lost, you felt a deep pull of regret in your gut. Why didn’t you come back?

“I never did,” you whispered, and you saw young Derek’s face morph into one of confusion and betrayal. He took a step back from you, taking a seat onto Scott’s couch while clasping his hands tightly.

“You...you never came back,” he repeated, slower. He looked up to meet your eyes, and you saw they reflected yours: brimming with unshed tears. “Not even for me?”

“I didn’t---I didn’t know if you wanted me back,” you stuttered. “If anyone wanted me to be back. I’m...dangerous, I’m unnatural---”

“And I’m not?!” He exclaimed. “I’m not everything you just described to me? I’m a werewolf (Y/N). I’m pretty sure you can’t get any worse than turning into a beast with fangs, claws, and a bloodlust every full moon.”

“You’ve  been that way your whole life!” You argued with him, your face burning in pent up emotions you’ve kept in. “Your family has been preparing for you to turn since you were born, they knew what to do! You didn’t have to be sent away to another country to try and control unnatural powers you had no idea you had!”

Your hands grasped at the back of your neck, and you started to pace while lifting your head to the ceiling. The tears were on the edge of rolling down your cheeks, and no matter how you tried, they fell as you continued to speak. “You didn’t have to leave behind your little brother---a spastic little boy who is literally a third of my world. You didn’t have to leave behind your father---the only parent figure I had  left alive, who had to lose his daughter right after his wife. You--you didn’t have to leave the boy you loved---who I dreamed of seeing again every night I was away.” 

You stopped, and a heavy silence fell within the house. You turned your back to Derek to avoid his burning gaze, breathing heavily. In the corner of your eye you saw your father in the doorway to the McCall house, and Stiles squatting on the staircase with unshed tears glistening in his eyes. Your breath hitched when you met their gazes, and you saw the anguish and regret in your Dad’s eyes...and the pure sorrow in Stiles’.

“You weren’t scared,” you mumbled to them. “Of what you could do to the people you loved if you so much as lifted a finger the wrong way. You didn’t have to wonder if they even wanted you back if you didn’t have the proper control.” 

You let the final tears slip down your cheeks before turning back to the boy who hadn’t changed since the time you left. “I’m sorry I never came back,” you breathed. “But I’m here now, I’m finally home and that’s what matters.”

You had a long talk with Stiles and your Dad. A long needed one that was filled with tears, apologies, laughs, and just all around love that you’ve missed for so long.

Pretty soon you were stable enough with your family to focus on Derek again, who hadn’t spoken a word to you since the day of your outburst. You’ve spent afternoons going through your spell books with him in Scott’s livingroom, with barely a word passed between the two of you. You both glanced at each other longingly when the other wasn’t looking, believing the spark that had once been so tangible between the two of you was inevitably gone.

“Anything yet?” Scott walked in, with the rest of the pack on his trail.

You sighed, throwing the book you were reading onto the coffee table before running both your hand downs your face. “Barely. I found something, but it’s not much to go by.”

“Anything is better than nothing,” Malia replied.

You looked towards younger Derek, to find him already staring at you. You looked away immediately, leaning forward onto your knees and wringing your hands. “Derek needs some sort of...”alarm” per say to awake his original form. This chick, Kate, has put him in a critical period of his life where he trusts her, and he needs to be reminded/given a reason to go back to the way he was.”

“You could date my sister without it being illegal if you go back to your original form,” Stiles spoke up. “That should be enough motivation.”

“Stiles,” you and Derek reprimanded.

“So, basically, we have to scare Derek into being older again?” Kira questioned, and you shrugged. 

“Essentially, yes.”

“Well this is good,” Scott gave you a small smile. “We sort of have a plan now, and we have a direction of where to go. For now, everyone should get some sleep. We did good today.”

You don’t remember how you got to the school, how you met up with Peter, or how you even remembered to put on socks before your shoes. All you remember is a blur of Scott and Malia waking the pack up to announce that Derek had gone missing, and now, here all 4 of your were, in the Beacon High School entrance steps.

After a frantic conversation with each other, you all were frozen as a humanoid creature with an animal skull on the head stood at the bottom of the steps with a menacing aura. 

“A Berserker,” you whispered, stepping back cautiously. You heard Peter curse underneath his breath, retreating with you. 

Malia growled, and Scott tensed.

“There’s only one, so that means we have a chance,” Peter said. 

“Of killing it?” Malia took a step forward, but you caught her arm and threw her behind you.

“No,” you breathed. “Of surviving. Go! I’ll hold it off as long as possible.”

“I can’t leave you--” Scott tried to protest, but once you turned your glare on him, your eyes a piercing green, he nodded reluctantly, turning and running with the others.

Almost as soon as they left you sent a small defensive blast of green energy towards the Berserker, causing it to stumble down a few steps---enough for you to run after Scott.

Too soon, you caught up to them on another set of stairs, and on the landing you all were surrounded by three of the Bersekers, with Peter nowhere to be found. You held your hands up in a protective shield, watching them all as Malia and Scott where on the ground hurt.

One stepped forward and you shot a blast in the shape of  a blade towards it, causing the monster to be thrown back into the wall. Without looking to see what happened to it next, you turned swiftly to kick the next one as hard as you could in its exposed stomach. The blow only made it pause, and soon, you were in hand to hand combat with the thing---you dodging and throwing jabs as often as possible.

Suddenly, you heard Scott’s frightened shout for Kira, and for a quick moment you turned to see her be thrown to the floor by the other Berserker. That moment of distraction allowed the one you fought against to slash you across the abdomen. In a startled cry, you bent over instinctively, only to have the Berseker kick you into the air, where you were sent flying back into the railing. The hard impact sent blood pooling from your temple, as you desperately grasped your stomach.

Malia scrambled over to you, holding down pressure while trying to reassure you. “(Y/N), we’re gonna get you out of here, this is going to be fine----” her voice cracked as she assessed how deep the wound was,and you grit your teeth in a failed attempt of caging a large cry.

Down below, your cry held Derek’s attention. “(Y/N),” he whispered in worry, taking a step towards the entrance.

“Derek! Focus on me,” Kate barked urgently. “Where is it!”

“I don’t care!” He yelled back. “That was (Y/N)! There’s something wrong.”

Without another word, he ran out, following the scent of pheromones as well as blood---your blood. His heart pounded in his ears as he pushed himself harder. When he found the Berserkers closing in on his friends, with you losing blood and fast, all he saw was red. He slashed, kicked, punched all he could, and there were vague moments of transformation he pushed away.

Before he knew it, a call had the Berserkers both running away, and he was staring after them, panting heavily.

“Derek?” Scott called tentatively, and he was snapped back to reality. he rushed over to where you lay shaking, hands covered in blood---too much blood. He brought you to his chest and lifted you bridal style, tensing when he heard your cry of pain.

“Shh,” he soothed. “You’re okay, you’re gonna be okay.” His heart clenched when your eyes fluttered open, and you gave him a side smile.

“Took you long enough, Babe,” you mumbled, causing a genuine laugh to burst from his mouth.

“You shouldn’t be the one blaming me for being late,” he replied, and you gave him a rueful smile before grimacing. “Okay, we gotta get you help sunshine.”

By the time you woke up, it looked like it was in the middle of the afternoon. The thing you noticed the most was that you were in your own room in your Dad’s house, and Derek was staring at you, at your bedside while holding your hand.

“You always did sleep in,” he whispered, and you grinned at him. Slowly, you moved your body to face his, trying to hold in the slight winces of pain that you could tell Derek heard.

“How much do you remember?” You said quietly, your eyes hopeful. 

Derek leaned forward, using his free hand to stroke your hair before he looked at you softly. “Everything.” 

When he noticed you closing your eyes in pain at the memories he placed his face directly in front of yours. “Hey,” he called, and you opened your eyes slowly. “I love you,” he declared firmly, and your eyes built up with tears for like the fourth time this week. “I’ve never stopped loving you, and a few years of you being absent isn’t going to change that. Because now that you’re back, I intend to make up for every lost minute we had.”

A lone tear fell down your cheek, and you nodded. “I love you too, Derek.” 

He left a lingering kiss on your forehead, before leaning back. “Thank God.”

[forzalando]

Give Me A Chance - George Weasley

HI HELLO HELLO this is a George request from the lovely, wonderful, beautiful Rosie ( @thephelpstwins )!! I hope you like it AHHHH :)) i love you so, so much!! 

@thoseofgreatambition I hope you like this as well, thank you for getting excited about it with meeee :)

Request: marissa!!! “give me a chance” + “i’m so in love with you” with george ??? maybe the reader thinks he isn't serious bc of the twins reputation as jokers idk ??? you're the queen of writing here so i trust your judgement my love!!!

Pairing: George Weasley x Gryffindor f!Reader

Warnings: language ha ha ha sorry I have the mouth of a sailor, mentions of d*ath (Harry’s parents), dark humor joke, alluding to sex

Y/N: Your Name

Word Count: 1.8k

For the third time that week, George Weasley was kneeling in front of you with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. This time, however, he was reciting some cheesy poem that you were sure he bribed his sister to write.

“Oh, Y/N, I long for your kiss, If Voldemort kills us all, You’re the only lass I will miss,

Please, accept these flowers, My heart burns and yearns for you, I think of you every minute of the hour, I can’t believe you don’t feel it too,

Just give me a chance, You won’t regret it one bit, I swear on Fred’s life, I’m really not an insufferable git!”

You rolled your eyes dramatically, and walked away without acknowledging George, leaving Fred in fits of laughter and a frown on George’s face.

He didn’t know what to do about you; he had tried subtle, he had tried playing hard to get, he had tried making you jealous, and none of it had worked. Now, he was resorting to the lowest of lows; embarrassing public displays of affection.

It was definitely not his first choice to get your attention, but he was all out of options and didn’t know what else to do. He thought it was funny, to be honest, and enjoyed writing stupid love poems or picking flowers for you.

You, on the other hand, were completely mortified because of his poem. If Voldemort kills us all, you’re the only lass I will miss? If there was one thing George Weasley was not, it was tasteful.

The entire day, people were teasing you about George’s ‘poetic and romantic’ gesture; all you could think about during your last class was hiding in your dorm for the rest of your life. When Charms was over, you practically ran all the way to the Gryffindor common room.

When you reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, she giggled and raised her eyebrows at you.

“Sherbet Lemon,” you grumbled, eager to crawl under your thick blankets and never face the world again.

“Oh, no, I have strict instructions not to let you into the dorms yet!”

“You can’t ban me from my room! Who told you I can’t go inside?!”

“I think you know, however, if you need a hint, he has red hair.”

You let a frustrated scream erupt from your throat, and turned around, only to come face to face with George Weasley. He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off.

“George Weasley you tell that woman to un-ban me from the common room this instant or I swear to Godric, I will NEVER speak to you again!”

“You already don’t speak to me, so I don’t have anything to lose, now do I?”

You blinked rapidly at his words, realizing you really didn’t have anything to threaten him with.

It wasn’t that you hated George, very far from it in fact, but you stayed away from him in order to protect your heart. You had spent the last year or so falling harder and harder for him just by observing from a distance, and you flinched when you thought of how you would feel if you let yourself get close. He had stolen your heart without even trying, and that thought scared you to death.

“Please, Y/N, just one date. That’s all I’m asking for and if you hate me even more afterwards, then I’ll give up on you. All I’m asking for is one chance.”

“I won’t give you a chance to break my heart George, it’s not going to happen. So, I would greatly appreciate it if you would stop embarrassing me in public with your silly antics.”

“Break your heart? I don’t want to break your heart, Y/N, I would never do that.”

“Well if that’s not the reason you’ve been chasing after me for the past week, then you must have a bet with Fred or Lee. Am I a bet to you, George?”

“A week? Y/N, I’ve been trying to get you to go out with me for damn near four months!”

Suddenly, you recalled all the times George had cheekily complimented you on your hair or your eyes. You remembered how whenever you entered the common room, he seemed to pay extra attention to Alicia, Angelina, or whichever girl was nearest to him. You thought of the two weeks he didn’t speak to you at all, which had bothered you so much more than you would ever admit out loud.

“That was you trying to flirt with me? Or get my attention? George…you went from too subtle to being positively annoying! I thought you were teasing me or trying to make a fool out of me!”

“Well, I thought the grand gestures would work, I mean, Harry told me his Dad did stuff like that for his Mum and look where they ended up!”

You raised your eyebrows and your mouth opened in shock, while George’s face turned as red as his hair due to how his comment could be interpreted.

“Oh, fucking hell, I didn’t mean dead, I meant married, don’t look at me like that!”

Your laughter echoed through the halls with George soon joining in. The two of you were doubled over and clutching your stomachs with one hand and wiping tears with the other. However, all of a sudden, George stopped laughing and started staring at you while smiling.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever made you laugh! I finally made you laugh and now I can die happy.”

“I laugh at all of your jokes and pranks, George, I just hide it well.”

The lighthearted atmosphere disappeared, and George sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“What did I do to make you hate me, Y/N?”

“Oh, George, I don’t hate you. I…well, what I feel for you…it’s far from hate, and I’ll just leave it at that.”

“Then why won’t you go out with me?”

“It’s our last year at Hogwarts, and we only have a little over a month left. When we graduate, you’ll start your joke shop with Fred, and I’ll start my training to be a healer at St. Mungo’s. I won’t let myself fall for you anymore than I already have only for our relationship to end before it can even really begin.”

George stared at you with wide eyes, blinking rapidly as he tried to process your words. His heart felt like it had dropped to the bottom of his stomach; and he couldn’t believe that you weren’t going to give him a chance because you were simply afraid.

“You don’t get it, do you? Godric, Y/N, I’m so in love with you. You’re always on my mind. Even when I’m asleep, I dream of you. My amortentia smells like your shampoo! I’ve been asking you for one date, but I want that to turn into so much more. I wouldn’t leave you or neglect you after graduation.”

“You can say that but it doesn’t mean you’ll follow through!”

“Are you really going to spend the rest of your life refusing to take a chance because of your fears? That’s an awful way to live, Y/N, and if that’s what you decide then I feel sorry for you. I would never hurt you, or abandon you, and if you’ll let me, I will love you for the rest of your life.”

“You’re barely eighteen, are you sure you should be making promises like that?”

“Y/N, there are two things I am sure of in life: one, Fred and I are going to own the most fantastic joke shop the Wizarding World has ever seen, and two, I love you so much it’s impossible for me to ever stop.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, what? Are you saying okay to the date or to me loving you forever?”

“I’m saying okay to all of it. I want all of it, I want all of you, George.”

“All of me, eh?”

“You prat, why can’t you just let us have our first moment? Why did you have to go and say something like that?”

“You’re grinning like a Cheshire cat; I know you’re not really mad.”

You promptly realized that you were, in fact, smiling like an idiot, and that all of the portraits around you two were watching with wide eyes.

“George, the portraits are staring at us.”

“I suspect they’re waiting for me to kiss you or something crazy like that.”

“Well, then, give the audience what they want, don’t keep them waiting any longer!”

“Maybe I should make them wait, they’ve been ignoring me for months because they were afraid I would break their heart.”

You pouted as you realized he was speaking about you, and a large, toothy grin spread across George’s face.

His smile was the last thing you saw before he pulled you into him and crashed his lips to yours in a breathtaking kiss. He pulled away and shot you a mischievous wink while softly tugging on your lower lip.

“Sorry, love, I had to. Honestly, it would have been torturous for me to wait to kiss you now that I can.”

“You obviously underestimate just how much I want you, but that’s a conversation for another time, preferably late at night, with much less clothing on.”

George’s jaw went slack, and a gasp of shock left his swollen, pink lips.

“Sherbet lemon,” you whispered softly.

The Fat Lady finally opened the portrait, and you dashed inside, leaving a speechless George Weasley pondering your words for a fraction of a second.

He raced in after you, only to find you halfway up the steps to the girl’s dormitory.

“You’re insufferable,” he shouted after you. “But, what about our date? Where are we going? What are we doing? Can I do you? I mean that can wait, but at this moment it’s kind of the only thing running through my mind.”

You chuckled and turned around to see a giddy smile adorning George’s handsome face and a delicate blush coating the apples of his cheeks.

“Hmm, meet me outside the Great Hall on Saturday at noon. Impress me with your date planning abilities, George Weasley, I want to be surprised.”

“Y/N, prepare to be utterly amazed. I will make you fall in love with me because of my incredible date planning skills.”

“I’m already in love with you, idiot.”

George dramatically blew you a kiss, and you giggled at the massive smile on his face.

You watched him head up the stairs to the boy’s dorm and smiled at the way your heart hammered in your chest because of him. It was very, very rare for you to take chances, and when you did, you always regretted it. But you knew in your heart, your mind, and your soul, that George Weasley was the one thing in your life you would never, ever regret.

[skeletorific]

Could I ask for some h/cs for UF and UT Sans, as well as US Papyrus? They're having a silly 'arguement' with their s/o when said s/o suddenly exclaims: You wanna go?! Fight me!!' and jumps on them only to smother them in small kisses all over their face until they give up? Thank you so much!!!!

UF!Sans: “for the last time, the mandela effect ain’t a real thing.”

“You are a literal byproduct of a multiverse how do you not believe in the Mandela Effect?”

“cus i’ve bopped around the multivers and i’ve never seen them melt into each other like that. even remembering alternate timelines dead hard, no way a lot of people would remember at once.”

“How do you explain the Berenstein/Berenstain thing then?!”

“its cursive, e looks a lot like a, lot of people misread it and dont realize it.”

You shook your head, leaning on the counter opposite him. “You have unbelief in your heart, and it makes you cynical.”

“i got common sense, dollface, there’s a difference.” He said, grinning at you.

You returned the smile, raising an eyebrow. “You saying I don’t have common sense?”

“lemme put it this way, if common sense makes you a cynic, then you are starsdamned pollyanna.”

“You are asking for it, boneboy.” You smirked.

“you have no idea how much.”

“you wanna go?” You say, circling the counter. He shifted and turned towards you, grinning wolfishly.

“you don’t have the guts.”

“Fight me.” You say, jumping for him. True to form, he splutters but catches you. Your legs hook around his waist and you start kissing every inch of his face you can reach. He snickers despite himself and shifts his group to hold you a little tighter.

“don’t know how many fight you’ve been in,” He says in between kisses as he walkeds towards the bedroom. “this ain’t exactly effective technique.”

“Hush,” You laugh, continuing your barrage of affection. “I’m wrecking you.”

“yeah?” The door closes behind you and he tosses you on the bed. “we’ll see about that..

UT!Sans: “It wouldn’t kill you to help out, you know.” You repeated for the tenth time that day as you bustled around the house with a stack of cleaning supplies.

“yeah, but why risk it.” He said, voice slightly muffled by the couch he was currently face down on.

You sighed. He’d been like this for two days. Normally you didn’t mind much but with your parents coming over soon you felit like he should at least pitch in a little. You weren’t asking much, just maybe pick up the pile of dirty socks forming in the corner of the room.

“Sans….”

“Zzzzzzz”

“no on actualy just says the letter z over and over again when they’re asleep Sans.”

“shhhh.” You can tell from the sound of his voice he’s grinning.

You give him a look (for all the good it does, he can’t see you), then back at the socks….and suddenly your eyes glimmer.

“hey babe.”

“mm?”

Smack.

Something soft hit the side of his skull. He looked up, confused….only for a sock to hit him square in the face.

“what-” Smack

“ba-” Smack

“you-” He was suddenly pelted by them while you laughed. 

At some point he finally started tossing them back at you, making you both laugh. The sock war went back and forth for a while.

“give it up, sweetheart”

“You wanna go? Fight me!” Forgoing the socks, you tackled him to the couch. He grunted (as did you, bones weren’t exactly a soft landing) and fell backwards, laughing harder as you started kissing every inch you could get too. He started returning the kisses soon after.

“you taste like socks.” You said.

“who’s fault is that?”

“Probably the person who left a big pile of em in the middle of the living room.”

“alright, alright, point taken.” He said, kissing you and grinning. “i’ll pick em up.”

“and help me with the rest of it?”

“yeah, sure.” One last peck on the cheek and you sat up. He went to go pick up the socks….but not before stuffing one in your mouth.

Looks like the battle had just begin. 

US!Papyrus: “You are such a dick!”

“aw, hon, talk like that ain’t gonna get this back.”

It probably was funny to an eternal view. Stretch was currently dangling your phone well out of your reach. You kept jumping to try and get it but his height advantage was fmormidable, as well as his stubbornness. 

“Give it back!”

“hmm, i dunno…” He had a shit eating grin as he ducked your latest attempt, moving to the opposite side of the room.

“Paps, I’ve got calls to make!”

“you’ve been makin calls all day.”

You caught the faintly pouty undertone.That’s when it hit you this was his way of asking for attention. And much as he was being a little shit right now there was something kind adorable about the neediness. Only problem was if you asked him directly if he wanted some time he’d deny it. 

You had to fight a grin as the perfect plan enters your mind. After a few more minutes of keep away you circle on opposite ends of teh kitchen. 

“Think you’re reaallll funny, don’t you?”

“i mean, kinda.” He smirked, waving your phone.

“you wanna go?” You suddenly charged. “Fight meeee!” And you launched yourself at him.

“wait, babe-!” He somehow managed to catch you but the force knocked him backwards into the wall. He grunted but didn’t have time to really feel it before you had him in a deep kiss.

You let it linger for a few minutes before moving to kiss his cheekbones, forehead, neck, everywhere you could get to. He got more and more flustered and finally carted you to the couch, pinning you to the cushions and returning the favor. 

About twenty minutes into it you mumbled. “coulda just asked if you wanted some time together…”

He flushed. “shut up.” He kissed you firmly.

“Can I have my phone back.”

“we’ll see~”

[thebluesideofmyworld]

Seven Minutes in Heaven - Max Meyer One-Shot

For an anonymous request.

Summary: You never played a game called ‘Seven Minutes in Heaven’ before. But somehow you end up playing the game, and have to be locked with Max in a closet for seven minutes.

Word count: 2546 words (I know. It’s too long. I am sorry. I still hope you like it, though)

You shake your head again. “Nope.”

“Why not?” Lilah asks with a small frown on her face.

“Because I don’t see the point of that stupid game!”

And seriously, even the name of the game sounds totally ridiculous for you. Seven minutes in heaven? Heck. Whoever responsible for creating and naming that game, they will need to define what do they mean by ‘heaven’ to you.

“To have fun!”                      

You roll your eyes as you cross your arms over your chest. “I would not consider being locked in a small dark closet as something that I would do to have fun.”

“Oh, come on! Don’t be a party pooper!” Lilah says. She pulls you on the arm and practically drags you to the center of the room where everyone is already sitting. Ignoring your groan, she pushes your shoulders down to make you sit on the floor like the others.

“Finally decided to join us?” someone whom Lilah introduced earlier as Leon something (his last name is a bit harder to remember for you) winks at you.

You tug the corner of your lips to form a fake smile.

“You should thank Lilah,” you say. “And better do it soon because I am going to kill her after this.”

Leon chuckles.

“Hey, we’re happy to have you joining us,” he says with a smirk. He elbows the guy sitting next to him, “Right, Max?”

The Max guy turns his head a little to look at Leon, then flashes a quick glance at you. He mumbles something that you can’t hear. And as he is looking down, you can’t read his lips.

Whatever. You just want this game to be over as soon as possible. And you mean soon as in really soon.

“I’ll spin the bottle first,” Leon says. He pulls the green bottle that seems to be just pops out of nowhere closer to him. “Ready?” he asks, looking around.

“No,” you say. Lilah giggles as she nudges you with her shoulder.

You start listing the most fun way to kill her after this. And considering that she is also the one responsible on making you come to this small-party-with-only-a-few-nice-cool-people, you think you want to kill her twice.

Leon looks at you with a lopsided smirk. “Oh, ready or not, here we go.”

He spins the bottle. You throw your head to the back. Looking at the ceiling, you chant a silent prayer that all that you have to do in this game is sit still where you are right now until it’s over.

When you look back down, the bottle has started slowing down. Suddenly a strange nervousness hits you, making your heart beats faster.

And looks like that nervousness is some kind of a sign. Because now you’re staring at the bottle that is pointing at you.

This can’t be true, right?

But the sound of the others clapping hands and cheering tell you that sadly, it’s true. It’s happening.

You groan. “Why meeee?” you whine.

But everyone seems to ignore your misery. In fact, Leon is now getting ready to spin the bottle again.

“So… Let’s see who’s the lucky one, okay?” he says before spins the bottle.

You fix your eyes at the spinning bottle. Somehow you feel like the bottle is making fun of you by spinning for a long long time. Just when you start hoping that the bottle will spin forever so that everyone will get bored waiting for it and just end the game, it starts slowing down.

And it comes again. The nervousness that you felt before.

The bottle stops.

You look up from the bottle to see the one that the bottle is pointing at. And a blushing Max is staring at you back.

No. No no no. Okay, Max looks kind of cute. And the fact that he is so much shorter than Leon (well, he’s still taller than you but that’s not the main issue here) actually makes him look adorable. But you hardly know him! You just met him at this party! And you two barely talk to each other! What would you do with him in a closet???

The others seem very pleased with this, though. Too pleased, judging from the way they laugh.

“But… but…” your mind is still racing to find a reason, any reason to avoid being the victim of this game, but Lilah is much faster than you. She already stands up and pulls you with her. Unfortunately, the nervousness seems also making you to be too weak to free yourself from her grip. She keeps on giggling, despite a stream of protests that mixed with some rude words from you. From the corner of your eyes, you can see how Leon is also dragging Max along with him. But you’re too busy with your fruitless attempt of freeing yourself from Lilah to really look at how he reacts.

“Oh, come on! This is gonna be fun,” Lilah says as she opens the closet with her free hand.

“Define fun, please,” you say. But instead of answering, Lilah only pushes you into the closet. You stumble in to it, almost trip on your own feet.

“And here’s your partner! Enjoy!” Leon says as he pushes Max. You turn around right when Leon closes the door, and Max is stumbling in. The sudden disappearance of light makes him trips. Losing his balance, he bumps on you, making you lurch backward and hits the wall of the closet.

“OUCH!”

“Oh my God, are you okay? I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

You can hear his voice in the dark, sounding so worried.

“It’s fine, now wait a second…” you say, as you fumbling to get your phone from your jeans.

Unlocking the phone screen, you blink at the light from the phone.

“You’re okay?” he asks again, as if wanting to make sure that you’re not injured or something.

“Yeah…yeah… Now let me find where the heck is the.. Ah! Here it is!”

Feeling a little bit victorious, you turn on the flashlight function on your phone.

“Oh, good. Thanks for the light,” Max says.

“No probs. I hate being in the dark,” you say, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor.

“Yeah, me too,” he says. Following you, he also sits on the floor. Both of you have to fold your knees so there is enough space for the two of you.

You put the phone next to you. In front of you, Max sighs. “I’m so sorry about this,” he says.

You chuckle a little. But seeing how he looks at you with a pair of eyes that kind of remind you of your puppy, you can’t help to smile.

“Naaaahhh… Don’t worry, you’re fine,” you say, waving your hand dismissively. “It’s Lilah, and Leon that should apologize, really.”

Max cringes a little, “Yeah, Leon can be such a jerk sometimes.”

You nod. For a few second, none of you say anything. Until you sigh. You usually suck in making small talk, especially with someone that you just meet. But saying nothing for seven freaking minutes surely will be worse than trying to talk with him.

“So, what do people usually do when they are doing this?”

Max tilts his head a little to the left, but keeps his eyes on you.

“You never play this game before?”

“Nope,” you shake your head. “Never have I ever played this stupid game called Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

Leon lets out a small laugh. And since he is sitting so close to you like this, you can see that the laugh makes him look even cuter. Not that you think he is that cute, though.

“To be honest, I am surprised that it was us that got to be here,” he says.

You raise an eyebrow, looking at him with questioning eyes. “Why?”

He shrugs his shoulder.  “Because usually, people who got locked are usually those who are a couple, or who have a crush on each other.”

Your brows furrow down. “Really? Why?”

“So they can have a reason to…you know…,” Max pauses, and scratches the back of his ear. “Kiss… and make-“

“THEY WHAT?”

Okay, you didn’t mean to half-scream like that. But you really didn’t know that it’s actually one of the purpose of this game. You are really going to kill Lilah. Multiple times.

“They…kiss…?” Max says, cringing. And even with your phone as the only source of light, you can still see how he is blushing furiously (which is also cute, but again, that’s not the issue here).

“Oh my God…” you groan, and throw your head to the back.

“We… you don’t have to do it, really!” Max quickly says nervously.

You lean your forehead against your folded kneed for a second or two. Then you sigh as you raise your head again. Resting your chin on your knees, you look at Max.

“Hey Max, can you promise me that whatever it is that happen here stay here?”

“Sure. Of course,” he says, nodding his head.

“Okay. Second confession of today. Never have I ever been kissed before.”

In front of you, his eyes got widened as you feel that the tip of your ears start burning. The heat runs quickly all over your face.

“I know. Shame on me, huh?”

“No… no… Really!” Max shakes his head, almost furiously. “Why should you be ashamed about it?”

“Because, you know… the other girls at my age usually have done…that kind of things…” you shrug your shoulders.

There is a small smile on Max’s lips. “Well, maybe you’re not just like the other girls. Maybe it’s because you’re special.”

Your face starts to feel like burning again.

“I don’t know. I mean, I want my first kiss to be special. With someone that I do really want to kiss,” you say. Then you stop. What the heck is in your mind? You barely know this cute guy and now here you are, talking about this kind of thing with him?

But in front of you, Max still has that smile lingering on his lips as he nods.

“Yeah, I understand that.”

Maybe it’s the comforting look in his eyes. Maybe it’s his smile. But you decide to continue. Besides, damn it, he’s promised that whatever you said in here would stay here, right?

“And I definitely never expected that I would have my first kiss in a small dark closet,” you say.

Max grins. “Yeah, I guess this is not a proper place for something romantic.”

“Nope,” you shake your head. “Definitely not.”

Max is staring at you with a strange look. There is something in his eyes. Something that you can’t really understand.

“What is it?” you ask him. “You also want to make a confession? So we can change the name of this game to be Seven Minutes of Confession.”

He laughs lightly. And it makes you realize that you like it. The way he laughs.

“Okay, I can do that. I can do a confession.”

You grin. “Go ahead. I am listening.”

“Well, I have kissed a few girls before,” he says. You nod at him. Of course. He’s quite good looking, and, he’s a football player. It’s not a surprise for you if it’s easy for him to find a girl to kiss.

“But,” he says, and pauses. When he continues, he fixes his gaze at you. “I only kiss a girl if the girl also want it too.”

You smile as you nod. “That’s nice. A good confession.”

He chuckles. “Well,” he says. “I’ve got another thing to say. But it’s not a confession. More like a question.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, then shrugs. “Yeah. Of course. You can do that too.”

He clears his throat. “I…” he stops, and runs his hand from his head to his neck. “I was just wondering. Do you think you would ever want to kiss me?”

You stared at him with your lips parted in shock. What did he just say?

“Huh?”

He shifts awkwardly. “I’m sorry. I mean, I think I like you. And maybe I go too fast or something. But I don’t want to sound too rude or something. So I was just wondering… you know…” his voice falters there. For the second time, his face turning into crimson.

You blink, then stare at him. A few second pass in silence, because he doesn’t seem to know what to say. And neither do you. You turn your face away from him.

“Well, I do think you look…kind of cute…” you say, but not trusting yourself to look at him. Then you sigh, and turn your face again to look at him.

“But wanting to kiss you? I can only decide about it after I know you better,” you say, smiling shyly.

The expression on his face is a mix of surprise and delight. Like he is so happy to hear it but couldn’t quite believe it.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Really. I just need to know you better. And I guess it’s also better if you know more about me.”

“Well,” he grins again. “That is something that can be arranged. We can meet again and…you know… go somewhere… do something, maybe?”

“Sounds good. Just make sure it doesn’t involve anything that related to being locked in a closet.”

He laughs and this time you really admit it. He is cute. And he is cuter when he laughs like that.

Suddenly, the door of the closet is opened. Light that suddenly floods from outside making the two of you blink and squint your eyes.

Lilah and Leon standing next to each other, grinning so wide like they just heard  a hilarious joke.

‘So, how was it?” Leon asks.

“What did you two do together?” Lilah adds the question.

“Well…” you stand up, and brush the dust away from your jeans. Next to you, Max is doing the same thing. Both of you walk out of the closet.

“Come on,” Lilah says, more insistent. “What did you do? Did you kiss?”

You look at Lilah and give her a lopsided grin. “What we did? We plan something that might or might not involve a kiss.”

The clueless expression on Lilah and Leon’s face makes you feel a satisfying feeling of a small victory.

“Huh?” Leon shakes his head, and look at Max. “What?”

Max chuckles. “Well, she just said it. And since seven minutes are not enough for us to plan it all, we really sorry but we have to leave this party, right?” he says, then glance at you and wink.

“Yeah, we need a very detailed plan, and that’s why we need more time,” you say.

“And that is why we’re leaving now. Don’t worry, Lilah. I’ll give her a ride.”

The two of you turn around at the same time, and walks away from your friends who are still standing in confusion.

As you walk to the door, you steal a glance at Max. He catches your glances, and smiles.

Well, you still think that Seven Minutes in Heaven is a lame name for a game. But at least your first experience of the game is not that lame.