#the one that just looked at me and my bag of Funyuns like: you look like you need bullets!

[thepatronsaintoffilth]

okay but shayne in this clearly butch dyke coded haircut is killing me

[superblysubpar]

could i request a lil smutty eddie fic based on dangerous animals by arctic monkeys? 🤤

A/N: Thank you for requesting & for your patience! I hope mechanic Eddie fits the smutty vibes you were looking for. I pulled inspiration from the title and a few lyrics mainly.

Dangerous Animals

mechanic!eddie munson x fem! reader

Summary: After a long day, your mechanic makes a mess of you on the hood of your car. | masterlist | eddie's music | NSFW 18+

WC Range: 1k-3k

Warnings: cat-calling, swearing, too many petnames, Eddie is a little teasing/cocky, unprotected piv intercourse - creampie, public sex (open garage but no one is around)

It had been a day and the Indiana summer heat was just one of the many things making your jaw clench as you stepped towards the garage, men spilling out of it as the clock marked the end of their shifts. 

Swatting at the gnats flying around your face, you swore you were able to grab fistfuls of the heavy and thick air settling around your body. Rolling your eyes as you push your sunglasses up, the men leaving the shop throw rags over their shoulders, elbows at each other, and catcalls towards you. One even having the nerve to call out, ‘Baby, why don’t you give us a smile?’

Pretending to search your purse, you pull out your middle finger and a faux look of shock, only to be met with wider grins, a few whistles, and a blow of a piece of bubble gum with a hand over the heart from the one asking you to smile, “Breaking my heart, girl.”

“Can’t break something that’s not there,” calling behind your shoulder as calls of ooh’s and ouches from the other men, a ‘keep trying’ and ‘she likes it’ murmuring quietly behind your back. 

“Assholes,” mumbling as you enter the open door, glancing back at the boys hopping into trucks, hooting and hollering about where they were heading first for their Friday night festivities. So fixed on their departure, you almost trip over a pair of coverall clad legs outstretched under your bright blue Sunbeam. 

A familiar voice calling from under the vehicle, “You know they like the chase.”

Scoffing, you sling your purse onto a bench, unbuttoning your work blouse to reveal a white tank top. Despite both doors open on either end of the garage, the oscillating fans seem to do nothing to dissipate the heat, only nudging it around. The air heavy with the smell of oil, tires, and what you were ninety percent sure was a bag of rotting funyuns. A classic rock station playing quietly and you smirk at the calendar hanging behind the counter- a bright blue star and your initials on today’s date. 

“And that gives them a right to be pervy jerks?” shoving your shirt in your purse, heels crunching on the gravel beneath them as you spin towards the car once more. 

A quiet laugh escapes from under the bright blue car, “I didn’t say that, now did I?” a grunt and hiss following before a quiet “Shit,” falls from him. 

Stepping closer, you groan, “Don’t - don’t you dare say ‘shit’ under my baby, Munson. You promised it’d be done today.”

Grease covered thighs lead to the arms of the coveralls that have been left to hang in a loose knot around his waist, revealing what you assume was once a white shirt, now completely covered in oil and god knows what else. A metal tapping that gets louder before an abrupt clang, “I said I hoped it would be done today! I don’t make promises I can’t keep sweetheart, and I hate to break it to you, but your baby,” more grunting and sounds of metal clinking together ring out, the heels of his work boots dig into the gravel, “Is a piece of shit.”

The toe of your heel kicks his boot, “Take it back.”

“Fat chance,” he laughs before it falters off into a groan, “Alright, if I come out there, are you gonna kick my ass? Cause I’ve had a really shitty day and if the guys find out you beat me up, I’ll never be able to show my face here again.”

Taking a step back, you let out a frustrated huff, “I should beat you up! Quit dicking me around, it’s been weeks, can you fix the car or not Eddie?”

Wheels crunching on gravel, his upper half frees itself from under the hood. Sweaty bangs plastered to his forehead, a black bandana keeping his dark curls at bay, brown eyes shining through a layer of grime and grease on his face, and plush pink lips smirking up at your towering frame. It was like he was trying to distract you from the fact that you were supposed to be upset - unfair for him to look so cute when you were so irritated. 

His arms stretch to hold the fender above his head, his arms and shoulders accentuated by the tight white shirt and grease as he moans with fake distress, “Honey, you know what girls like you saying ‘dick’ does to guys like me,” as you roll your eyes, he winks, “Don’t tease me.”

He starts to push himself up from the cart and something in you snaps. Maybe it's the day you've had, the ache in your calves from the heels, the kink in your neck, the men earlier, or the heat, but you've had it. 

Your foot catches his chest, heel gently resting, but enough pressure to startle him. His hands flying to your bare calf as he stutters, "What the hell do you th-"

He leans back against the rolling cart as you lean down, "I'm the one teasing you? Give me a fucking break. Can you fix it or not?"

Jaw clenching as his eyes grow darker, he squeezes your calf gently and the pressure of it against your sore muscles allows an embarrassing moan to fall from your mouth. His lips twitch up into a smirk, and you remove your foot quickly, backing away.

Rising to his feet, you turn your back to him, about to grab your purse and head home, "Sorry, you weren't the only one who had a shitty day and-"

Hands on your waist pull you back harshly, spinning you to face him as his hand rests on your lower back. His mouth against your ear and his words sending chills down your spine despite the heat, "Where do you think you're going?"

"I-" gulping, you fall away from his grasp, the back of your legs hitting the front of your car and you fall against it. Eddie's eyes have turned almost black, losing all warmth, and he's stalking towards you like he was ready to devour you right there on the hood as you squeak out a quiet, "What are you doing?"

Leaning more into your space, dirty arms flexing as they cage you in, you hate that your mouth is watering at the sight of his veins in his forearms and hands, stark against the grease clinging to his skin. 

"What's the matter sweetheart? Suddenly so shy...where'd that mouth go, huh?" Eddie's nose nudges against yours, breath hot and fanning across your cheek. 

Your sweating fingers slide against the smooth metal beneath them, trying to cling to something for some sort of stability as he nudges your legs wider apart to step between. Your brain has melted, and your gasping and grasping to form a coherent thought other than 'fuck me right now'. 

Eddie laughs quietly, a dirty hand resting on your bent knee, "You know what I think?" His hand slides up your thigh until his fingers are at the edge of your skirt. A whine escapes you and you close your eyes at the sound, hating that he's able to make you fall apart with a few touches to your skin and simple words. His lips brush yours just slightly as he whispers, "I think you like being teased just as much as you like doing the teasing. You're no better than any of those guys," his bottom lip catches your top one as yours part on their own volition, a gasp falling into his mouth as he continues, "I think you like the game we've been playing," his hand pushes the hem of your skirt slowly, lips against your cheek now, "You like the chase. Like a lioness stalking her prey."

Nose nudging against your skin and both of his hands on your thighs now, you let yourself fall back against the hood. His hands push your skirt until it's bunched around your hips, your black lace covered and clearly aroused center on full display for him. He reaches up, grabbing at your chest and your eyes flutter closed at the sight of the dark marks staining the white and he laughs into your jaw, "But maybe I'm wrong."

He starts to pull away from you and your knees tighten against his waist, arms rising to wrap around his neck as you laugh breathlessly and try to get some of your power back, “Eddie, don’t act like I can’t get you on your knees begging for this.”

His eyebrows raise beneath parted bangs and he shakes his head, “You are unbeli-”

Pulling him down harshly, his nose hitting yours, you whisper, “So those aren’t my initials next to a star on your calendar, Munson?”

Cheeks tinged pink, he shakes his head as his hands find your hips, fingers toying with the band of your panties and he smirks at the sound of your breath hitching, “You caught me sweetheart,” one finger hooking into the edge of the black fabric, he starts to tug it down as he leans closer to your ear, “I’ve been counting the days until you were back here, thinking about doing exactly this,” his teeth nip at your earlobe and your hand clamps around the back of his neck harder, encouraging him to keep going, “Thinking about all the ways I could get you onto the hood of your baby,” he mocks your nickname as he pulls away and stares into your eyes, “Just so I could fuck you so hard you can’t walk out of here.”

Gasping at his admission, the setting sun is casting Eddie in soft golden haze, a halo of light around him like he’s some sort of dark angel. You didn’t know if he was about to deliver you to heaven or hell, but in that moment, you were sure you’d follow him wherever he wanted to take you. 

His fingers graze your ankle as he pulls your underwear from you fully and you pull him closer, his weight heavy against you as your lips brush against each other and you hiss, “So do it already.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows again, hands pulling his hardened length from his coveralls and boxers. Wrapping his hand around his thick and swollen cock, he leans over you, one hand resting over your shoulder as he smirks, “Not even gonna give me a please, pretty girl?”

Positive you were dripping down onto the hood of the car at this point from all of his teasing, the names, the way he looked - yet you refuse to let him have the satisfaction of seeing you melt into a puddle. Eddie pulls you harshly to meet his leaking tip, “Come on baby, don’t wanna forget our manners, we’re not animals.”

Huffing, you throw your head back, eyes trained on the garage ceiling, “Fuck, Eddie, stop dick-”

His tip slips into your entrance, pausing as you gasp, his mouth nipping your ear, “What did I say about using the word dick?”

A whimper slips out of you as he circles his hips slowly, the faint guitar on the radio swelling and he laughs, “Fuck, she’s trying to suck me in,” dipping below your ear, hot, wet and breathy kisses land across your skin, “Come on sweetheart, she’s impatient, need you to say-”

“Please!” your hands tangle in his hair and he slams into you as the word leaves your mouth. 

Eddie’s lips crash into yours in a searing kiss, his tongue diving out to request entrance as his hips start to thrust into you harshly. Moans transferring between your mouths, your hands slide to his shoulders, fingers digging in as he adjusts his hips to a new angle. Your body is sliding against the hood, and his hands find your hips, holding you in place as he pushes deeper into you. He sucks your bottom lip between both of his, pulling and dragging away slowly as manages to find a frantic and precise rhythm, hitting the spot inside of you to make you fall apart in record time. 

Eyes rolling into the back of your head, his teeth sink into your lip he’s holding. He releases it, saliva stringing between you both and you swear he bit you hard enough to draw blood. Eddie’s dirty hands grip and grope at your sides, your ass, your thighs, leaving marks and filth in his trail. Your hands fall from his shoulders to above your head, hitting the car with a loud smack, as his mouth travels down your neck and to your shoulder, a mixture of biting and kissing that has you stretching away from him but begging him for more. 

His hands on your bare skin on the sides of your stomach pull you tighter against his brutal hips and he speaks into your chest, “Already, baby? You’re gonna fall apart all over me, huh?” 

Your mouth opens to protest, to come back with a witty remark and he goes faster, hitting the spot deep within you, hard enough to leave a bruise you’re sure. His name leaves your mouth instead of an insult, desperate and loud enough that someone in outer space could hear it.  He catches your lips again, quick kisses between his words, “Don’t even try to lie to me,” he slides out suddenly, leaving you almost completely before slamming back into you and you scream against his mouth as he nods, voice dripping in fake concern, “Yeah?”

You nod against his lips and he laughs, repeating the agonizing pull out and brutal push back in as he demands, “Say it.”

You cry out, incoherent babbling, maybe his name, you don’t care as he returns to his quick and powerful thrusts, his hands lifting your hips as he somehow pushes even deeper within your walls at the new angle. Your body heated from head to toe, your shoes long fallen off, your heels dig into the car as he nips at your lip, teeth grazing your bottom one, “I’m waiting.”

“Ye-Yes!” your head knocking into the hood, you fling your hands into his hair as your entire body buzzed, lightning ready to strike, a euphoria taking over your brain, unable to think of anything other than the pleasure as he growls into your mouth - maybe he was wrong. Maybe you were animals. Wanting to make it last forever, to make him work for it and let him destroy you quickly and brutally all at the same time. Primal, impatient, desperate to please him and fall apart as he devoured you. 

Eddie lets his weight fall against you, the pressure of his pelvis hitting your swollen nerves is the breaking point you needed. Pulling his hair as you scream even louder, not caring if the entire planet hears how he is making you feel. He continues to slam into you as your orgasm rolls through your body, hitting the sensitive spot over and over again. Eyes squeezing shut, mouth falling slack in a scream that’s fallen silent now, fingers deep in his curls, chest tightening enough to hold your breath, toes curling, and body convulsing and shaking underneath him.

Eddie’s lips find yours, soft and sweet contrasting with his pistoning hips as you feel him stutter against you, releasing and painting your insides. Your hands relax in his hair at the feeling, drifting to cradle his face as you kiss. Mouths moving passionately against each other’s, sweat dripping foreheads and noses pushing together in a way that made your stomach roll with butterflies like it was a sweet first date and not the aftershock of something so raw and animalistic. This was tender and intimate and you feel your eyelashes wetting, your body shivering beneath his as his fingers trail up your body, finding your face as you sigh contently into his lips. One large hand against your cheek and pushing into your hair to draw you closer to him, the other holding your jaw, opening you up for him more. 

Inevitably, you needed air, and Eddie was the first to pull away, but only enough to hold your chin between his thumb and forefinger as his eyes that had returned to their soft brown look over your face fondly. Voice raspy, a little sugary and sweet again, not the man he just was, he smiles softly and whispers, “Good?”

Smiling back at him, you tap your nose against his, “Great.”

Not a single care to move from your position, thighs shaking, your eyes straining to remain open, you were certain you were not going to be able to walk out of the garage after the way he just made you cum, just as he declared earlier. 

Eddie’s nose and lips brush over your face as your breathing slowly returns to normal. Sweet kisses and quiet hums against your skin that seem to be apologizing for any teasing yet promising to do it all over again. As he kisses your jaw he whispers, “Can I put a star on the calendar for the same time next week, my lioness?” 

Laughing as you nod, his smiling lips continue to kiss all over your face until he ducks into your neck, blowing a raspberry below your ear that somehow makes you shriek and tighten around him - totally annoyed and incredibly aroused only seconds apart. 

As you let yourself relax under his weight and laughter, you knew you were in trouble. Eddie was powerful and patient, a devil and an angel - a dangerous animal that could protect you and destroy you in the same breath. 

Please let me know what you thought! I appreciate any love & feedback left 🖤

tag list: @boomhauer @loveshotzz @myobmaya @sweetsweetjellybean @pastel-pillows

[ghoastixx]

saw you were looking for Supernatural requests and I was wondering if you could do Castiel with a child reader who’s so picky about what they eat? Like they refuse to eat something that isn’t their comfort food? Please and thank you!

Castiel w/ a picky child GN!reader

notes: As someone who really really likes reading castiel interacting with a child, this makes me really happy. I am going to write Cas in more of the "I'm an angel of the lord." tone instead of the "Good morning!!🥰🌺" tone. But, who knows how it will turn out.

Synopsis above

My inbox is alway open.

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You were a nightmare during meal times, John used to say. Y/n Winchester was the youngest of Sam and Dean. When John died in that hospital, Y/n had only been a child. Now Y/n was older. Almost eleven.

Sam and Dean has raised Y/n, for the most part, so they were more used to things that the kiddo liked and didn't like. Most of that was influenced by shitty gas stations and diners.

Bobby always had a hell of a time getting the kid to eat. Everyone tried their best, they really did.. but it was difficult, and you would often get teased for being "picky." Even if it did hurt your feelings sometimes, you loved these people so you would never say anything about it.

You really liked Castiel for some reason. Your older brothers thought it was a little weird, I mean.. you usually didn't warm up easily to new people. It took at least four days to get you to even talk to another hunter if they had been working with one. But with Castiel? You seemed to just instantly like him. Sam joked it was because he was an angel, and in stories and older media, angels and children go hand in hand. Dean was just glad that you liked someone that wasn't your family.

At this point, with all the moving around and everything the boys had done, it was too dangerous to send you to school, so Sam "homeschooled" you when you had the time, but ever since Cas had showed up, you could be found asking him question after question about everything you were curious about. Castiel answered them, but he was confused. The young Winchester didn't bother him, he was intrigued more than anything.

An important hunt came up, a dangerous hunt. Sam and Dean really did not want you out on this mission. Usually they would dump you on Bobby during a time like this, but they needed Bobby's help on this hunt. They were okay with letting you stay by yourself, but when it came to hunts like this one, they would rather have someone watch you. Blackmail wasn't good. So, being the reasonable men they are, they dumped you on Castiel, who knew nothing about humans.

"Alright Castiel, Y/n can take pretty good care of themselves, just keep an eye on them, alright?"

"I will do the best I can Sam." Castiel responded as you walked into the kitchen.

"Please try and get them to eat something." He added before he left, leaving his sibling and the angel alone.

Castiel walked into the kitchen, keeping good distance from the kid, but watching as they pulled some water out of the fridge.

"Sam told me that I should have you eat something."

"No, we're out of pasta." You murmured, twisting the lid off.

Castiel tilted his head a bit, "Human's are not limited to strictly one food?" He said it sternly, but you could tell it was a question.

"Yeah- I know, but like- it's complicated Cas."

"Well, is there something here that you will eat?" He was going to attempt to negotiate.

"well, my dinner is probably going to be day old chocolate milk and a bag of Funyuns."

"That doesn't sound very appetizing."

"You're an angel-"

"I watch the Winchester's eat all the time." He walked into the kitchen, "I'll attempt to make you something."

"Cas-"

"I'm an angel of the lord, I can make a child some food." He began rummaging through whatever food that the winchesters had in the motel kitchen. He came up with some bread and grape jelly.

"No- I'm not eating that."

"What?"

"I said I don't wanna eat that. I don't like grape. It's yucky."

"Alright, I'll find something else. What about..peanut..butter?"

"No. Dean only likes the thick one and it's too chunky for me. I don't want it."

"Well," castiel looked at the kid, "What do you like to eat?" There was few of what the kid said in the motel, but Castiel managed to find some left over pizza in the back of the fridge. A contender! So, he heated it up and put it on a plate. He gave it to you as you sat down and watched curiously as you picked the pepperoni off. "You don't like that part either?"

"No. But it doesn't ruin it. I can still eat it." Castiel sat down.

"Why do you not like many foods?" You shrugged,

"I just don't." You ate half of it before you stopped. He looked down at it, his brows knitted together.

"Are you not going to eat anymore? Is it not good?" You shook your head.

"I think your brothers would want you to eat it,"

"I know.."

"What would get you to eat it, child?"

"Will you tell me a story?" So castiel did. And eventually you ate your food.

Castiel didn't like the quiet after you went to bed. He was beginning to grow to enjoy your company. That's when the tired boys came back.

Sam immediately went to clean up, Dean approached Cas,

"So, how was booger? Did they eat."

"Yes. I heated up pizza for them. They showed me how to use the microwave."

"Woah, a whole meal? Booger never eats that much for Bobby. Good job Cas."

This confused Castiel, but he never had an issue getting the kid to eat after that.

[gods-favorite-autistic]

uhhhh rtc at the grocery store! (only thing i could think of)

Aight bet

Penny gets lost every single time

Mischa puts her on a leash and she still manages to get lost

Ocean is the only one who actually is on task

Mischa keeps trying to buy vodka

Ricky likes to sit in the cart while Penny runs around the aisles pretending it’s a race car

Ocean almost had an asthma attack trying to stop them once

Noel adds things while Ocean isn’t looking

Meanwhile Constance just asks for something and is instantly told yes

No one can say no to her like cmon

“We need an Ocean O’Connell Rosenberg at the front please” “That’s me?” “Your friends are in the lost and found” *Ricky and Penny waving* “I DIDNT EVEN BRING YOU TWO?!!”

Noel likes posing with the wine

Mischa piles junk food in the cart

“Mischa you do not need 10 bags of Funyuns put 9 back or you get none”

Penny once convinced Ocean to get in the cart while she pushed her around to show her the appeal

She threw up

Mischa can and will climb a shelf if it’s too tall for him to reach

I’m here to push my trans Mischa agenda, the only reason Ocean knows he’s trans is because she took him to the grocery store once and he tried to stock up on bandages

She lectured him for about an hour about unsafe binding and then immediately went online and ordered him a binder

The entire choir have one thing in common: their love for the candy aisle

Noel gets the most French sounding item in the aisle and then also gummy bears

They also all have one common enemy and that is the texture of Sour Patch Kids

Source: I hate the texture of Sour Patch Kids

Specifically Ocean and Ricky, they must be five feet away from them at all times

Ocean and Constance really like those soft cookies with the bright frosting and sprinkles

Penny once threw a slab of meat at Mischa for kicks

Ocean and Noel verbally fight Karen’s

Mischa physically fights them

Once Beautiful by Christina Aguilera started playing on the speakers and Noel ran out of the store

Ocean was laughing her ass of the entire time

Ocean buys watermelon gum every time

Penny likes jump-scaring people

Ricky loves it

She once scared Noel so hard that he launched the bag of flower he was holding at her and accidentally hit Mischa which is when the bag of flour burst open

This was during winter break

Penny sang Frosty the Snowman the whole way home

Ocean likes strawberries

Noel once started singing Gaston when Mischa was holding a carton of eggs so Mischa picked him and Ocean up and put them on his shoulders

Noel was literally bright red

The entire choir has pictures of this

[bradenthompson]

Book Announcement: Illcontinuum! (available now)

There's something buried under Wishkah Shopping Center.

Or that was the story Junior heard growing up.

Now that Junior's an adult, all his friends have moved away, and all the remaining artifacts of his childhood have been demolished or remodeled, 

Wishkah Shopping Center is all that remains of the world he was once so comfortable living in.

Now Wishkah is earmarked for implosion, and Junior had precious little time to confirm or deny the biggest mystery of his youth.

An eclectic dirge through a sacred retail monolith, equal parts silent and expired yet lively and inexplicable, Junior finds a titanic mall fighting against its own damnation, producing "ghosts" of its previous tenants and slowly revealing the all-encompassing role it had always been playing in his life. All roads leading to the inconvenient reality that Wishkah shopping center isn't the only thing doomed.

illcontinuum.carrd.co

I thought I'd be announcing Illcontinuum was done and available four months ago, but given the release day and the personal circumstances which this book was completed under, time really is just a friendly suggestion.

This is a book that really snuck up on me, fueled largely by the feelings I needed to unpack following my graduation from college last summer. At no other stage of my life, at no graduational checkpoint, did I experience the same listlessness and grief I did in those first few weeks after unpacking my dorm and heading home for good. In my dreams I was back at college but, obviously, that dream college was exactly such. In the days before taking the podium I'd smoke weed and play arcade games downtown (ever spiral before? It's not without fun) -- unpacking, alone, what exactly I was going to miss.

And it was from those liquid lunches (I'd have a bag of funyuns or something from the vending machine) that Illcontinuum took shape. I've long dug on the notion of liminal spaces but, if you'll let me be real, I do not like the popular set of feelings this suburban phantom pain has taken. Why does it have to be scary? Hm? I'll be less of a sass; is horror, or dread, or melancholy, the only valid emotions we can explore regarding the retail/municipal monuments we leave to waste away in the crannies of our minds? I don't think so. I think in-between there's a very real warmth, and if Illcontinuum were to be listed among "new horror novels" I would worry I had done something wrong.

The end result of what proved to be a turbulent drafting process (probably the hardest time I've had writing one book) is what I think is my most complex and satisfying work. Not always clear and not always meant to be taken literally, the novel enters Wishkah shopping center within a few pages and does not leave until the curious and socially diminutive Junior is cracked open, leaking personal gooey stuff all over the tile.

I'm not sure how that last sentence came to be but I can't bring myself to rewrite it. Anyway...

While reading, feel free to replace details. Readers ought to bring themselves to the text regardless, but do not fight the moments where Junior becomes you (not You from Radiosault but you in specific) and Wishkah becomes the mall you remember but will never see again. Ask yourself what it is you'd be looking for were you given the chance to go back. And laugh a little--the book is funny.

Without further ado, enjoy Illcontinuum. And keep in mind the three initials you'll enter at the high score screen. I use BRA.

[aspenmissing]

𝙰 𝚅𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚂𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 (𝙿𝚝 𝟸)

Y/N, Dean, and Sam enter a Christmas shop that has 'Deck the halls with boughs of holly' playing.

"Help you, three?" The shopkeeper asks.

"Uh, hope so. Uh, we were playing Jenga over at the Walshes' the other night, and, uh... well, he hasn't shut up since about this Christmas wreath, and" Dean turns to Y/N "I don't know, you tell him" Y/N gives Dean a look.

"Sure" He turns to the shopkeeper "It was yummy"

"I sell a lot of wreaths, guys"

"Right, right, but - but you see, this one would have been really special. It had, uh, it had, uh, green leaves, um, white buds on it. It might have been made of, uh... meadowsweet?"

"Well, aren't you a fussy one?" Y/N looks taken aback, embarrassed. Sam smiles.

"He is..." Dean laughs and Y/N looks at him, annoyed"

"Anyway, I know the one you're talking about. I'm all out"

"Huh. Seems like this meadowsweet stuff's pretty rare and expensive" Sam says "Why make wreaths out of it?"

"Beats me. I didn't make them"

"Who did?"

"Madge Carrigan, a local lady. She said the wreaths were so special, she gave them to me for free"

"She didn't charge you?"

"Nope"

"Did you sell them for free?" Dean asks.

"Hell no. It's Christmas. People pay a buttload for this crap"

"That's the spirit" Sam says.

==

Y/N opens the door and turns on the light. Dean and Sam follow them in.

"How much do you think meadowsweet wreath would cost?" Dean asks.

"A couple hundred dollars, at least"

"This lady's giving them away for free?" Y/N says "Why do you think about that?"

"Well, sounds pretty suspicious" The three take off their jackets and sit on the edge of their beds. Y/N on Dean's.

"Remember that wreath Dad brought home that one year?" Dean says.

"You mean the one he stole from, like, a liquor store?"

"Yeah, it was a bunch of empty beer cans. That thing was great" Y/N says "I bet if I looked around hard enough, I could probably find one just like it"

"All right. Guys...What's going on with you two?"

"What?" The twins say in unison.

"I mean, since when are you two Bing Crosby all of a sudden? Why do you want Christmas so bad?"

"Why are you so against it? I mean, were your childhood memories that traumatic?" Dean says.

"No, that has nothing to do with it"

"Then what?" Y/N asks.

"I-I mean, I-I just...I don't get it. You haven't talked about Christmas in years'"

"Well, yeah. This is my last year" Y/N says.

"And If she's going, I want her to have the best last Christmas" Dean says. Sam pauses and lets out a small sigh.

"I know. That's why I can't"

"What do you mean?" Y/N asks.

"I mean I can't just sit around, drinking eggnog, pretending everything's okay, when I know next Christmas, you'll be dead" Y/N nods "I just can't" Y/N nods, realizing the sadness in Sam's voice. The three are silent.

==Flashback, 1991==

Sam is on the couch reading a comic book. Y/N is sat at the table. Dean walks inside the room, holding a bag of groceries. Y/N looks over at him.

"Thought you went out," Sam says.

"Yeah, to get you two dinner." Dean tosses Sam packaged food. "Don't forget your vegetables." He tosses Sam another bag of snack food, Funyuns. "Here, Y/N, you go." He throws Y/N a sandwich and an energy drink.

"Thanks." Dean takes off his jacket, sits down on his bed, and opens a drink can. Y/N walks over and sits next to Dean, drinking her energy drink, followed by Sam, who sits on the other bed.

"I know why you two keep a gun under your pillow and under your shirt," Dean lifts his pillow and sees his gun. Y/N lifts up her shirt and sees her handgun.

"No, you don't. Stay out of our stuff," Dean says.

"And I know why we lay salt down everywhere we go."

"No, you don't. Shut up," Sam turns around and grabs something from under his shared bed with Y/N. It's John's diary. Sam tosses it onto the nightstand between the beds. Dean stands.

"Where'd you get that? That's Dad's!" He says. "Why didn't you see that?" He looks to Y/N.

"I—" Y/N is cut off by Sam.

"When she went to the bathroom for a shower, I found it."

"He's gonna kick your ass for reading that."

"Are monsters real?" Sam asks, and Y/N's eyes widen.

"What? You're crazy."

"Tell me." Dean looks away, hesitates before looking at Y/N who sighs and nods.

"I swear, if you tell Dad we told you any of this, I'll end you."

"Promise." Dean sits. Y/N looks at John's diary.

"Well, the first thing you have to know is we have the coolest dad in the world. He's a superhero," she says, smiling.

"He is?"

"Yeah. Monsters are real. Dad fights them. He's fighting them right now."

"But you and Dad said the monsters under my bed weren't real," Sam says, gesturing to Y/N's.

"That's 'cause we had already checked under there," Y/N says. "But yeah, they're real. Almost everything's real."

"Is Santa real?" Dean smiles, shaking his head. Sam pauses, looking sad.

"If monsters are real, then they could get us. They could get me."

"Dad's not gonna let them get you."

"But what if they get him?"

"They aren't gonna get Dad. Dad's, like, the best."

"I read in Dad's book that they got Mom." Y/N tenses and takes a side look at Dean before speaking.

"It's complicated, Sam," she says.

"If they got Mom, they can get Dad, and if they get Dad, they can get us."

"It's not like that." Dean moves and sits next to Sam. "Okay? Dad's fine. We're fine. Trust us." Sam looks sad and worried. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Sam looks away.

"Hey." Y/N holds Sam's hands in hers. "Dad's gonna be here for Christmas. Just like he always is." Sam holds back tears.

"I just want to go to sleep, okay?" Sam pulls his hands out of Y/N's.

"Yeah, okay," she says, and Dean nods. Sam lies down on the bed and cries quietly, Dean stays sitting on the edge of the bed.

"It'll all be better when you wake up." Sam cries harder. "You'll see. Promise." Y/N rests a hand on Sam's head, gently rubbing it.

==Flashback End==

Dean, Y/N, and Sam walk up to a big white house with Christmas decorations on the lawn.

"This is where Mrs. Wreath lives, huh? Can't you just feel the evil pagan vibe?" Dean says. Y/N knocks on the door and a woman greets them.

"Yes?"

"Please tell me you're the Madge Carrigan who makes the meadowsweet wreaths," Y/N says.

"Why, yes I am." Dean turns to Y/N and Sam with a smile.

"Ha! Bingo."

"Yeah? Uh, well, my brother's wife," Sam gestures to Y/N, "Was admiring your wreaths in Mr. Sylar's place the other day."

"You were?" Madge says, looking at Y/N, who nods. "Well, isn't that meadowsweet just the finest-smelling thing you ever smelled?"

"It is, it sure is," Y/N says. "But the problem is, all your wreaths had sold out before we got the chance to buy one."

"Oh, fudge!"

"You wouldn't have another one that we could buy from you, would you?" Dean asks.

"Oh, no, I'm afraid those were the only ones I had for this season."

"Aww..." Sam says.

"Tell me something, why did you decide to make them out of meadowsweet?" Dean asks. A man then comes down the staircase inside the house. He has an old-fashioned pipe and cardigan.

"Why, the smell, of course! I don't think I've ever smelled anything finer."

"Yeah...um, you mentioned that."

"What's going on, honey?"

"Well, just a nice couple and his brother asking about my wreaths, dear."

"Oh, the wreaths are fine. Fine wreaths. Oh, care for some peanut brittle?" He asks, holding out a plate. Dean reaches out to take some, but Sam slaps Dean's arm away.

"We're okay. Thank you," Y/N says.

==

Back at the motel, Dean and Y/N are sharpening two wooden stakes, while Sam uses the laptop. Five other wooden stakes are on the bed and floor near the two. Sam claps his hands.

"I knew it! Something was way off with those two."

"What'd you find?" Y/N asks.

"The Carrigans lived in Seattle, last year, where two abductions took place right around Christmas. They moved here in January. All that Christmas crap in their house - that wasn't boughs of holly. It was vervain and mint."

"Pagan stuff?" Dean asks.

"Serious pagan stuff."

"So, what, Ozzie and Harriet are keeping a pagan god hidden underneath their plastic-covered couch?" Dean says.

"I don't know. All I know is we gotta check them out," Sam says. "So, what about Bobby? He's sure evergreen stakes will kill this thing, right?" Y/N looks at the stake.

"Yeah, he's sure," she says.

==

Sam, Dean, and Y/N walk towards the house. Y/N picks the lock and the three enter. They each hold a wooden stake. Dean then closes the door quietly. Dean looks at the couch that still covered in plastic and whispers, "See? Plastic." Sam and Y/N touch it too as Dean shakes his head disapprovingly. Dean and Y/N go into the living room and look at all the Christmas décor, while Sam goes to the hall, which is also decorated with ornaments and snow globes. Sam goes into the kitchen and sees plates of cookies and cakes. He shines his flashlight on the lock of a door.

"Hey, guys." Later, the three walk downstairs to the basement. Y/N points her flashlight and finds bones covered with blood in a large bowl. Dean sees a cutting machine with blood on it and grimaces. They check the room and realize the whole basement looks like a butchery room rather than a storage room. The three then split up. Sam finds a leather bag covered with blood. He looks disgusted and moves to another spot. Sam pokes a bag that is hanging from the wall, and the bag moves. He reels back before Madge grabs Sam's neck from behind and lifts him off the ground as he yells in surprise. Dean and Y/N hear him and come running.

"Sam!" They yell. Madge pushes Sam against a wall and holds him by the throat. Dean runs to him and tries to stake Madge, but Mr. Carrigan grabs his arm and knocks his head against a wall. Dean falls to the ground, unconscious. Y/N then comes up behind Mr. Carrigan and is about to stake him before he turns around and grips Y/N by the throat, lifting her into the air. The stake falls to the ground as she loses consciousness. Mr. Carrigan drops her to the floor, and she falls unconscious.

"Gosh, I wish you kids hadn't come down here." Sam moves his flashlight to the Carrigans' faces, which appear monster-like when in the beam of the flashlight but turn back to normal out of the light. Madge slams Sam's head hard against the wall and lets him drop to the ground. Later, upstairs in the kitchen, a number of bowls are set out on the kitchen tables as well as a knife. Sam, Dean, and Y/N are tied up in chairs, their backs facing each other.

"Dean? Y/N? You okay?"

"Yeah, I think so," Y/N sighs.

"So, I guess we're dealing with Mr. and Mrs. God," Dean and Sam nod, "Nice to know."

"Yeah," The Carrigans come into the kitchen, dressed in colorful Christmas-themed sweaters.

"Ooh, and here we thought you three lazybones were gonna sleep straight through all the fun stuff," Madge giggles.

"Miss all this? Nah, we're partiers," Dean says. Mr. Carrigan smokes his pipe. Madge grabs an apron.

"Isn't he a kick in the pants, honey? You're hunters, is what you are."

"And you're pagan gods. So, why don't we just call it even, and go our separate ways?"

"What, so you can bring more hunters and kill us?" He laughs, "I don't think so."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you went snacking on humans, now, huh?" Sam says.

"Oh, now, don't get all wet."

"Oh, why, we used to take over a hundred tributes a year, and that's a fact," Madge says as she puts a napkin on Dean's lap. He shifts away, "Now what do we take?" She puts a napkin on Y/N's lap, "What, two? Three?" She puts another on Sam's lap.

"Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew here make six," Mr. Carrigan says.

"Now, that's not so bad, is it?"

"Well, you say it like that - I guess you guys are the Cunninghams," Dean says sarcastically.

"You, mister, better show us a little respect," Dean and Sam look at him.

"Or what?" Sam challenges, "You'll eat us?"

"Not so fast," Mr. Carrigan says. He looks at Madge, who looks excited, "There's rituals to be followed first."

"Oh, we're just sticklers for ritual."

"And you know what kicks off the whole shebang?" Madge smiles.

"Let me guess...meadowsweet," Dean says.

"Oh!"

"Oh shucks, you're all out of wreaths," Y/N says, "I guess we'll just have to cancel the sacrifice, huh?"

"Oh, don't be such a gloom Gus," Madge says as she pulls out three wreaths from a cupboard. She puts the wreaths around Dean, Y/N, and Sam's neck, "There. Ohh...Don't they look darling?"

"Good enough to eat," Mr. Carrigan smacks his lips, "All righty-roo." He whips out a knife, "Step number two." He walks to Sam carrying a knife and a bowl. He holds the bowl under Sam's arm and prepares to cut him with the knife.

"Sammy?!"

"Sammy?!" Mr. Carrigan slices Sam's arm and collects his blood in the bowl.

"D-Don't," Sam screams.

"Leave him alone, you son of a bitch!" Y/N says, struggling against the restraints. Dean following.

"Hear how they talk to us? Heh, heh. To Gods?" Madge takes the knife and bowl.

"Listen, pal, back in the day, we were worshipped by millions."

"Times have changed!"

"Tell me about it. All of a sudden, this Jesus character is the hot new thing in town. All of a sudden, our - our altars are being burned down, and we're being hunted down like common monsters."

" But did we say a peep? Oh ho, ho, no, no, no, we did not," Mr Carrigan adds something to Sam's blood in the bowl, "Two millennium." Mr Carrigan picks up pliers, "We kept a low profile; we got jobs, a mortgage. Wh-What was that word, dear?" Madge asks.

"We assimilated."

"Yeah, we assimilated. Why, we play bridge on Tuesday and Fridays," Madge says, holding a large knife, "We're just like everybody else."

"You're not blending in as smooth as you think, lady," Y/N says.

"This might pinch a bit, dear," Madge comes close to Y/N and slices her arm, her blood pours into the bowl beneath. Y/N screams.

"You bitch!"

"Oh, my goodness me! Somebody owes a nickel to the swear jar," Madge says, "Oh, do you know what I say when I feel like swearing?" Y/N looks Madge in the eyes, as she gestures with her sharp knife, ""Fudge,"" Y/N pants.

"I'll try and remember that?" Mr Carrigan picks up a pair of pliers.

"You three have no idea how lucky you are. There was a time when kids came from miles around, just to be sitting where you are." He stands in front of Sam with the tool. Sam looks panicked.

"What do you think you're doing with those?" Mr. Carrigan smiles.

"You fudging touch me again and I'll fudging kill you!" Madge points the knife at Y/N.

"Very good!" Madge slices Y/N's other arm and she groans in pain, while Mr Carrigan grabs Sam's hand.

"No. No. Don't" Mr Carrigan pulls the nail of Sam's index finger and Sam screams. He holds up the nail.

"Oh, we got a winner!" The Carrigan puts all the ingredients in the bowl and stirs them.

"What else, dear?" Madge asks.

"Well, let's see. Uh, fingernail, blood, Oh..." He hits his own head "Sweet Peter on a popsicle stick..." He laughs "I forgot the tooth"

"Oh, dear!" Y/N breaths heavily.

"Merry Christmas, boys" Y/N says and the brother's groan. Mr Carrigan picks up pliers and grabs Dean's chin.

"Open up...and say "Aaah" He puts the pliers in Dean's mouth and Dean groans. The doorbell then rings.

"Somebody gonna get that?" Dean asks with the pliers in his mouth. Madge and Mr Carrigan look at each other. Sam and Y/N look relieved. The doorbell rings again "You should get that" Mr. Carrigan rolls his eyes and sighs.

"Come on" he says. Dean sighs in relief and runs his tongue around his teeth.

"That was close" he says.

[rustworks]

The Brokowski Files - 10

Fahey slid out of the car at sloth speed. Brokowski smiled and nodded casually. “Detective.”

“Hey there, Detective Mauer!” blurted Fahey. “Long time no see, sir! Ha ha! You know, because we just saw you?”

“That we did,” Mauer cooly replied. “Been trying to find you. We’ve figured things out and you’re a big reason why.”

“Oh man, Detective Mauer! I can explain! My old lady lost her job and I’ve…”

The detective held out a hand. “Easy there. Let me finish.”

“Of course, Detective Mauer sir!”

“I don’t know how you do it, Brokowski.” Mauer gestured to somebody behind him. It was Officer Menchie, holding a bag of Funyuns. “That look familiar?”

Fahey laughed hard. “Those are the Funyuns you snagged! Now they’re getting wet, amigo sir!”

“You did it,” Menchie said. “You boys did it.”

Fahey started to fidget, but Brokowski spoke first. “Do tell, bros.”

“Always playing it cool, Brokowski,” Mauer said with a laugh. “Care to weave your tale?”

Brokowski shrugged. You should. Sound it out for us.”

Mauer smirked. “I’ve got to hand it to them. Smuggling cocaine in bags of Funyuns. Their inside men sticking them behind the normal bags. But you two still found them.”

“We did?” Fahey screwed up his face. Brokowski elbowed him.

“Not the time to be modest, boys. You sniffed out the Riaz Crime Ring. Paying their head honcho a visit really spooked them. And then your master stroke, Brokowski…”

Brokowski grinned and shrugged modestly, so Mauer continued. “Mr. Incognito, is it now?” He chuckled. “Your little ‘anonymous’ call to Mueller’s show? Calling out Riaz publicly? That was the death blow. You could have just come to me, but that ain’t your style is it? Always got to add the Brokowski sizzle!”

“What’s he…ow!” Fahey hopped, clutching the foot Brokowski’d just stomped on.

“You rattled Perlman too, during your little confrontation with him.” Mauer pointed at a nearby squad. Perlman was scowling at them from the back seat. “His thugs holding up QuikMarts to find the drugs first? Bold move to take on the Riaz Family, but crime doesn’t pay for either of them when Brokowski’s on the case!”

“I just like clean streets,” replied Brokowski.

“You care to explain why there’s high-quality reefer in your warehouse?” Menchie suddenly called out, motioning some fellow officers to join them.

Fahey made a sound that surely meant more bad news for his trousers. Brokowski shook his head. “You’re asking the wrong guy, bro. Ask him.” He gestured at Coggs.

Coggs’ eyes went wide. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“This one of your crew?” Mauer asked Fahey, gesturing to Coggs.

Brokowski answered. “Clearly not, bros. Fahey doesn’t deal that crap.”

Coggs cried out in protest, but Menchie’s men dragged him away.

“You’ve done this city a real solid,” Mauer said. “The check’s going to be in the mail. Have a good day, friends.” He tipped his hat and strolled off.

“Thank you, sir! Always a pleasure, Detective Mauer!” Fahey called out, waving like one does when they see their grandma after years.

“Can we finish our business?” Brokowski impatiently asked.

Fahey rushed to his car. “I crapped my pants again. Thank God I carry extras in the trunk!”

“Is this a common problem, bro?” Brokowski followed him. Man, he needed a grit.

Fahey flung open the trunk and started laughing.

“Now what, bro?”

“Look at that! All this time, I had the KB in the trunk! That’s pretty hilarious, bro!”

[infrequent-creator]

Junk Food

Summary: Jirou is disgusted by Kaminari’s weird snack habits.

Word Count:

A/N: This is for the amazing / talented @vqler ! I’m your Squealing Santa this year! Im so sorry this came out after your hiatus but at least you can come back to it! Lots of love & happy holidays! :)

TW: teasing, weird food

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

It was a couple days before winter break at UA high. The weekend was right around the corner and all the students were buzzing about their upcoming trips.

Todoroki was going to Okinawa for a vacation. Momo couldn’t be more excited about her family’s annual Italy trip. Sero going to see his mother’s family in Mexico. Even Bakugo was going to Paris with his parents for winter fashion week.

Not all the students had plans though. A select few students chose to stay over break, Kaminari included. His mom was busy overseas with hero work. He would’ve gone home but his mom’s assistant Azuya was sick, so he decided just to stay at the dorms. Plus, the dorms had endless fun things to do.

ding

Jirou shivered as she stepped out of the elevator, teeth chattering and shoulders shaking. Her cheeks were burning from the temperature spike. She stomped her boots off quickly, then shook out the rest of her body to get any extra snow off.

“Oh, hey Jirou, cold out there isn’t it?” Kaminari looked back to meet her gaze as they spoke.

“N-No sh-shit.” She shivered, walking over to the couch. She draped her jacket over an empty chair to let dry.

“Dang, I’m sorry you had to be outside anyway, what made you go out?” He questioned, sitting up from his spot on the couch. He was underneath a thick blanket, munching on some Dr Pepper & Funyuns.

“I was walking Momo to meet her parent’s town car by the school gates. Plus, she needed help with one of her bags.” She explained, shaking the last of the snow off.

“Well, I hope she tipped you.” He snorted, laughing to himself.

“Oh shut up, she’s my friend.” She chuckled, twirling her earphone cord.

“Uh huh, do you make a practice of leaving a ‘friend’s’ room at 2 am?” Jirou’s face lit up bright red.

“Sh-Shut up! H-How did you—“ She was speechless. How did he know that?!

“Adhd baby, I’m up at all hours. I was in the kitchen eating magic cereal.” He shrugged as he spoke.

“…what in the world is magic cereal?” She looked at him confused.

“It’s Lucky Charms, Frosted Flakes & chocolate milk mix.” He admitted proudly.

“Oh my god how can you eat that junk? It’s terrible for you Denki, you’ll get cavities.” She made a face of disgust.

“Hey, I brush just fine thank you! If I don’t, then I can’t enjoy the food I like.” He rebuddled.

“Whatever you big nerd, scoot over. I’m freezing.” She shoved him playfully, quickly getting under the blankets.

“Haha, ow! Easy tiger ok ok. I’ll move.” He moved closer to the arm of the couch, opening the blanket up for her.

“Want some chips?” He offered, smiling at his new couch buddy.

“Sure thanks. What are you watching?” She asked, taking a few chips.

“Elf, it’s so funny. I gotta try that spaghetti thing he made!” He looked like he was about to start drooling at the screen.

“Ew, that’s so disgusting Denki, why are you like this.” She rolled her eyes, chuckling at her friend’s gross food habits.

“You know what, that’s not true. I have a refined pallet, thank you very much.” He pretended to twirl a French mustache as he took on the accent.

“I’m hurt you would judge me, especially since I watched you eat flaming Cheetos with cream cheese.” He winced, being the biggest spice baby in the group.

“Ok, that’s normal though. Tons of people eat that. Your taste is anything you can mash in a bowl together.” She was referring to his so-called “magic cereal”.

“That is so untrue! I have a refined palette!” He gasped in fake offense. There was a moment of silence.

“You know, I don’t know what’s gotten into about the way I enjoy my food, but I don’t like it one bit! Now, I think you should apologize for being so mean to me.” He says up a little straighter, now leaning closer to his friend.

“I don’t think I should. Anyone will agree with me, your food is weird.”

“WEIRD?!” He gasped loud & dramatically at Jirou’s comment. He didn’t know what to do. What to do…how could he make her apologize. She shuddered a little, adjusting the blanket to be more covered.

“Hey Jirou, you still cold?”

“Yeah, it was way too cold out there.” She rubbed her arms to create more heat.

“Well how bout this, I’ll help you warm up~” he purred mischievously as his warm hands found wiggled their way to her hips. He gave both a couple squeezes. A strained yelp shot out of Jirou’s mouth, her hand flying to hide the sound.

“K-Kaminahahahri! Wh-What are you dohohoing!”

“I’m warming you up silly, you weren’t kidding. Your skin is so cooooold~” he started scribbling his fingers all over her flat tummy. She fell deeper into the couch, her body against Denki’s side.

“Awww you wanted to cuddle? Jirou, that’s so cute! I didn’t know you were a cuddle bug!” He hooked his hands in her armpits, only to slide her onto his lap. Jirou’s cheeks burned red already, dammit why was he so embarrassing?!

“NOHOHO! D-Dohohon’t tickle mehehe!”

“Don’t? But you’re so cute, and so red! I didn’t know you could turn such an embarrassing color.” He teased as he circled her armpits with his fingertips. She squeals and tries to stop him by clamping her arms against her sides, trapping his hands.

“EEEEHEHEHE! WHYEHEHE!” She kicked her feet lightly as she squirmed around in the electric hero’s lap.

“Because you owe me an apology missy, and I’m willing to go to great tickle lengths to get that from you. Now how’s about you let me be a good friend and *warm you up*” with that, his evil fingers started working on her ribs.

Now Jirou was averagely ticklish, her laugh was a little wild though. But the one spot she absolutely goes crazy, is her ribs. Unfortunately for her, Kaminari learned that too quickly.

Her back arched off the chair arm as she became more frantic to stop her tickle monster friend.

“NAHAHAHA STAHAHAHP!!” Her laugh was absolutely adorable. It was definitely uncharacteristic for her, but that’s what makes it way cuter. His fingers slowly worked their way down her slender ribs, plucking and rubbing wherever he could reach.

“PLEHEHEHEASE KAMINAHAHAHAHA!” She gripped his wrists tight as he kept his pace going.

“You know, I think it’s time I use the information Momo gave me~” He got a mischievous grin.

“M-MOHOHOMO?” She asked, not sure what she could’ve told him. He nodded as his hands went underneath her shirt towards her chest. His hands paused at the ribs just below her chest. He didn’t know her face could get any redder, but he didn’t even start tickling and she was already getting giggly.

“She told me your secret spot Jirou~” he winked as he started to squeeze and rub the fronts of her ribcage, careful not to let his hands slip from that spot. With that, Jirou exploded into beautiful loud laughter.

“She told me after you spent the previous night, laughing you head off one night in her room. I just had to know what was so funny.” He teased.

“So, are you ready to apologize to me?”

“YES YEHEEHES IM SAHAHAHAHARRY PLEHEEHHEEASE STAHP!” She pounded her heals against the couch as she actually tried to get away.

“Say I’m a culinary god!”

“A WHAHAHAHAHA?!”

“Fine then, I’ll just see how you handle raspberries in this cute spot~”

“NONONONO F-FINE! FIHIHINE ! OKAHAHAY YOURE A CULINAHAHAHARY GAHAHAHD!” Tears pricking the corner of her eyes as she pushed him away by the forehead at the last second. He smiled and stopped, quickly pulling his arms hands out of her shirt. His own cheeks were a little red as well. He just had his hands under a girl’s shirt. He had to tell Kirishima!

“Sorry bout that, hope I didn’t go overboard?”

“N-Noho no. You didn’t, I’m alrihight.” She couldn’t meet his gaze, her cheeks still flushed.

“Good! Now, would you actually like me to warm you up? You still feel cold.”

“Please.” She smiled as he wrapped her up in a ridiculous cuddle hug. She laughs softly as they relax into the couch to finish the movie.

[detective-giggles]

(Grand)mother Knows Best

So this fic is going to be a double prompt fill. I started this LAST YEAR for my entry for the Barisi Professions bingo! This is my “Sonny-as-a-nurse” AU.  Now for Flufftober, I have FINALLY finished it and I’m using it for Day 7: Meddling Friends (I mean, technically she’s family but...) Also, please note: No grandmothers were harmed in the making of this fic. Thanks to @moderateshouting for giving me this idea (forever ago). And, thank you to @sarahcakes613 for the beta!

WC:1,461

***

Sonny sighed as he poked at his food. A big pan of homemade lasagna always sounded great in theory, but by the third day, the novelty was gone and he was checking his watch to see if he still had time to run to the bodega on the corner. He had almost decided on Funyuns and a Mountain Dew-the dinner of champions-when someone tapped him on the arm. 

“May I join you?”

“Huh? Oh, of course, Mrs. Diaz.” He shifted and prepared to stand, “do you need help?”

“No,” she waived him off and took a seat at the picnic table across from him, “I’m not as helpless as my grandson thinks.”

Sonny smiled kindly, “I’m sure he doesn’t think that, Mrs. Diaz.”

“I would have been just fine in my apartment,” she insisted.

“And how many flights of stairs was that?” Sonny asked.

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “You sound just like him, you know?” Sonny chuckled as he rummaged through his lunch bag. Residents were always telling him he reminded them of their sons or grandsons. It was a compliment.  He hoped. “You seem like a nice boy. I bet you’d never stick your abuela in a place like this.”

Sonny shrugged and took a bite from an apple. “I couldn’t afford to stick my nonna in a place like this.”

“You’re always here on Fridays. Saturdays too.  A handsome young man like you... your wife doesn’t mind you leaving her home alone all weekend?”

“Mrs. Diaz-”

“Catalina. Please, call me Catalina.”

“Catalina, you know I’m not married,” Sonny sighed.

“Do you want to be?” 

Sonny opened his mouth and then closed it, clearing his throat. He sipped from his water bottle to stall and settled for a casual shrug. Personal questions weren’t entirely unusual, but they were usually followed up with an attempt at setting him up with someone’s granddaughter (or once, someone’s daughter), and Sonny wasn’t interested.  “Someday. If I find the right person.” 

“You’re not going to find her in here,” Catalina stage-whispered. “Unless you like older women?”

Sonny laughed, “you’re half right. But I won’t be finding her anywhere.” He glanced at his watch, missing the scheming grin on Catalina’s face.  He pulled a couple chocolate chip cookies from his bag. “My lunch break is almost over. You want to help me eat these?”

“No. Eat them both. You’re too skinny.”

Sonny laughed. “Now you sound like my nonna!”

Catalina stood slowly and put her hand on Sonny’s forearm. “Well, she’s right. Just keep in mind, us nonnas know what we’re doing.” She gave his arm a pat and Sonny watched as she slowly made her way back inside.

***

“Abuelita! Como esta?” Rafael wrapped Catalina in a hug and kissed her cheek. “Hola Mami.” He held up a small bunch of yellow and orange flowers and Catalina beamed.

“They’re beautiful, Rafi.” He pulled a vase from the cupboard and helped clip the ends of the stems while Catalina filled the vase with water.

“Rafael, come sit. I’m going to make coffee and I was just telling your mother abou-”

“No, I can’t stay long. I have meetings this afternoon.”

“You work too much, Rafi. You need to relax, have a little fun once in a while. Speaking of fun, you should meet-”

“I have fun!” Rafael insisted. “And I relax.”

“But Rafael, I have someone I need you to meet.”

Rafael chuckled, “I just had a few minutes, and I thought I’d stop by. I can meet your friends next time, okay?” Catalina shot Lucia a look, and Lucia shook her head, clearly not wanting to get involved in whatever her mother had planned.

“You’ll let me introduce you to Sonny then?”

“Si. I’ll come back later this weekend,” Rafael promised. “I’ll even bring you dinner. Just tell me when.”

Catalina exchanged another glance with Lucia. “Friday night, in the courtyard. Is eight-thirty late enough?”

Rafael sighed. “Yes. I’ll see you then.”

***

Knock knock

“Good morning, Mrs. Diaz.” Sonny popped his head into her room.

“Oh, Sonny! Come in, come in! You remember my daughter, Lucia, right?”

“I do. Good morning.  Mrs. Diaz, I can’t stay today, I’m not working in this wing. I just stopped by for my word of the day.”

“Oh right. Let’s see.  Abogado.”

“Abogado? What does that mean?”

“Lawyer.”

“Ah.” Sonny looked thoughtful. “I’m sensing a theme with the words this week.  Is your grandson a lawyer, by chance?”

“Si, y muy guapo.”

Lucia’s eyes widened as she realized what Catalina was up to.  “Mother! You leave him alone!” she hissed, turning towards Sonny. “I’m sorry, please don’t listen to her.”

Sonny chuckled. “It’s okay. And I will google that one. You ladies have a good afternoon.”

“Oh, Sonny. Are you working this Friday?”

“I always do.” Sonny called over his shoulder.

***

Sonny settled in at his usual picnic table. He scanned the courtyard before pulling out his phone. When he looked up a few minutes later, there was a slightly older man, in a very expensive suit, standing nearby. He had a plastic bag in his hands, take-out Sonny assumed, and he appeared to be looking for someone.

“Can I help you?” Sonny called out.

“Um, maybe? I’m supposed to be meeting my grandmother for dinner.”

“Dinner is in the dining room between four and six-thirty,” Sonny replied.

“Oh. She said she eats out here on Fridays. At eight-thirty?”

“No. Just me.”

“What?”

“I take my lunch break out here-alone-from eight-fifteen to nine. Every Tuesday through Saturday.”

The man rolled his eyes. “Great. Now she’s...confused?”

Sonny cocked his head to the side, “Wait. I know that eye-roll.” He looked around and then up, catching Catalina staring down at them from her window.  “We’ve been set up. She’s watching us.” He gestured for the other man to sit, and he did, joining Sonny at the wooden table.

“Set up?”

“Tricked. Hoodwinked. Bamboozled.”

He blinked as the realization set in. “Oh, Dios mio.”

“I’m guessing you’re Rafael. The, what was it? The abogado guapo I’ve been hearing so much about lately.”

“Fuck me,” he muttered. “You must be the blue-eyed rayo de sol she mentioned on the phone the other day. I’m sorry, I don’t remember if she mentioned your name.”

“It’s Sonny.” Rafael blinked again, and Sonny felt the need to clarify, “I mean, it’s Dominick, but no one calls me that.”

“No, it’s just. She literally described you as a ray of sunshine.”

Sonny grinned, his dimples on full display. “I try.”

Rafael sighed, “Well, I am sorry she let me bother you. I will go tell her to keep her nose out of your business.”

“You don’t have to do that. I think it’s kind of sweet, actually.”

“Embarrassing. Embarrassing is the word you’re looking for.”

“She just wants you to-” he stopped short. “Look, I’m the only grandson, so my nonna adores me... But she still tries to set me up with every single woman on Staten Island, you know? At least yours cares enough to get it right. I mean, she hasn’t been wrong about anything yet.”

“Don’t tell her that.” Rafael thought for a moment. “Well, I guess if I’m not eating with my abuelita and she did go through all the trouble of introducing us... will you at least have dinner with me?”

“Um, yeah. I would like that. Thank you.” He watched as Rafael unpacked the food, handing him a small box. “I was beginning to wonder if you actually existed.” Sonny admitted. “I mean, you were sounding too good to be true. And then she kept insisting that I had just missed you.”

“Too good to be true, huh?” Sonny shrugged and laughed. “Well, you already know what my grandmother thinks about me. Tell me about yourself?”

Sonny talked as they ate and occasionally Rafael interjected with an anecdote of his own. Sonny was loud, he talked with his hands, and he laughed at his own jokes, and yet Rafael was intrigued. He was surprised to find himself actually enjoying the company of the younger man, and hoped Sonny felt the same.

“Oh... hey, I have to get back to work. But, um, this was nice.”

“Is she still watching us?” Rafael asked. Sonny glanced up and then nodded. “Then I guess I should be on my best behavior. But would you like to go on a proper date with me sometime?”

“Yes,” Sonny stood and gave Rafael his phone number. “Maybe you can come over and I’ll cook something, sometime?”

“Sure. I’ll call you. It was nice meeting you, Sonny.”

“Yeah, you too. Have a good night, Rafael.” Sonny turned and as he made his way back into the building, he caught sight of Catalina’s triumphant grin.

tags: @flufftober2021 @beardsanddetectives @itsjustmyfantasyroom @moderateshouting

[soulwillower]

boyfriend stuff • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)      

requested: PLEASE FAKE DATING TO LOVERS WITH RICHIE PLEASE A WHOLE FIC PLEASE MORE

warnings: swearing, fluff, mentions of sex, a bit of drinking, family members, richie has a little sis!! and i believe that is it but as always its unedited

[losers + reader are in college]

sorry i haven’t been posting much but i have this fic for u guys, hope u like it!

6k words yowza

♡

"you said what?!" you hiss, your stomach swirling, jaw dropped as the wind whips your hair around. richie's grinning, but it's not his usual up-to-something grin. much more of an i'm-sorry-i-ran-my-mouth-again  kind of smile, but it's still richie's, so it's impossible to stay annoyed.  

"well shit, doll. you know how i am! and it was my grandma, i couldn't let her down. she is crazy." he says with a shrug, his hand pushing back his wild curls as you glare up at him in his stupid striped shirt and awful, annoying, angelic face.

you scoff, crossing your arms as your eyes flick to behind richie, taking in the law library and some kids playing hackey-sack on the quad. birds chirp in the distance. "c'mon, toots. you can play my girlfriend for a few days, right?" he asks gently, making you look back to him, gazing into his hopeful expression.

you're silent as a warm breeze flutters around you and you weigh your options - honestly, what could go wrong by going to your friend's grandma's house and pretending to be his girlfriend for a bit?

"how far is the drive?" you ask sharply.

"yes, baby! i knew i could count on you." he yelps, scooping you in his arms and making you yelp, rolling your eyes. "i didn't actually commit to fake-dating you yet, richie. unless you pay me."

"100 bucks, kid." he says, holding your shoulders. you gape at him, "what? do you seriously need to convince your grandma and the rest of your family that you're dating someone that much?" you ask, eyes wide and a smile curling onto your lips.

this boy was ridiculous.

he launches into a story about how his grandma is super weird - nice, but oddly suspicious; like (as he puts it) red-scare mccarthy type suspicious, which doesn't do much to help his case with you.

he then lists on his fingers the reasons he needed a girlfriend and continued to insist, "y/n/n, look at me. nobody's going to believe that i'm single. i'm way too gorgeous." you roll your eyes so hard it hurts. 

"-plus, you're the only friend i have that is hot enough and tolerant enough to pass as my girl for a whole weekend. i would ask stan the man, but i already mentioned that it was specifically a lady-lover of mine, and i can't put stan through a weekend of bra stuffing on top of faking' it with me."

you scoff at his absurdity, following him as he walks towards his dorm and weighing your options. "we have to stay with your batshit grandma, tozier? and you're really gonna do all that boyfriend stuff?"

he just laughs, tilting his head up so the sun glints on his forehead and you have to tear your eyes away before you get too attached to the sight of him.

"oh, of course i am toots. i can't wait to treat you like you deserve, babe. plus, it's a small house. we'll be sharing a room, though." he mutters, slinging a heavy arm around you and giving you icy butterflies that thrash in your ribcage. you groan, "come on, richie. i'm only doing this out of the goodness of my heart." you mutter, shaking your head as he sweeps the door to his building open and wiggles his brows. "and i have to share a bed with you?"

"you can curse my momma for bein' so liberal."  he says with a shake of his head, "you'll love her, though. she's excited to meet my girlfriend."

you fake a gag.

x

somehow, a week later, you're pulling yourself out of richie's beat up cherokee and sighing at the heat outside, watching as richie unfolds his body to his full height and sweeps an arm towards the quaint house across the street.  you walk to his side of the car and shake your head, trying not to think of the pressure of acting like a good girlfriend for the next two and a half days.

the drive back to richie's hometown was just as you'd expected a road trip with richie would be - cherry cola, loud music, a/c on blast as the summer warmth whips around his car on the outside, and a briefly awkward lay out of rules for the two of you to follow.

"well what about, like, rules?" you ask, feet balanced on the dashboard. he looks over to you, smirking as he hums along to the radio as it plays quietly. "well, like, what about them?" he asks, smacking his mouth and fake twirling his hair like a valley girl. you hide a giggle behind a glare.

"i'm serious, rich." but your smile gives way to your playful manner as you toss a chip at him. it hits his shoulder and he smirks - you're distracted, then, by how the faint morning glow hits his eyelashes, how his side-profile is sharp and angular but somehow also soft and subdued.

his hair is scruffy and placed perfectly as if he'd just rolled out of bed - though you know it took him a few minutes to make it look that way. he's wearing his stupid black corduroy pants and a long sleeve shirt that looks so soft you might melt and his lips are quirked into a wry smile.

richie's eyes are bright and teasing as ever, even on this early morning, and his teeth toy with his pink lips as he grins. you smile to yourself as you stare, because richie tozier is an artwork.

"y/n/n?" he asks softly, shooting you a soft look that really makes your fingertips tingle as you reach for your coffee. had he been speaking to you? you clear your throat, "richie, eyes on the road."

he chuckles but obeys, turning to look forwards, and you feel your heartbeat relax slightly. "okay. what about touching?" you reiterate as he keeps glancing at you, making you flush and your stomach thrash in tickle.

"you know i'm all for it." he wiggles his eyebrows and you scoff, shaking your head and pressing your lips together to keep down a smile. he's too much."-for real, though. what are you comfortable with? i can do any of that boyfriend stuff." he says, mimicking your words from the week before when you'd agreed to come, and you turn red again for nearly no reason.

you shrug. "well, touching is fine...but don't you think.... er- i mean, maybe kissing is just... a little weird? i don’t know." you ask, your stomach fluttering. you're not totally sure why, or you just don't want to address it, but you think that kissing richie might make things... different for you.

you ignore the feeling as richie nods. "yeah, i mean it’s not like my parents are gonna try and make us lock lips in front of them anyways." he mutters, making you roll your eyes, smiling out the window as the countryside flashes by in splashes of green and yellow.

"right, kid. you ready?" richie's voice calls you to look at him with a smile. "guess so." you shrug, your breath mixing with the warm afternoon air. the front door of the house creaks open from across the yard and richie turns to you, smiling devilishly and holding your bag in his hand.

"quick, they're coming. kiss me." he says with a lopsided grin. your stomach dips and you huff, "ew, no!"

he looks at you with a grin as you continue, "-you just had funyuns! that's so gross." you say, shoving his face as he tries to lean closer to you, making kissy faces. you can't help yourself from giggling as he smiles, "do it! c'mon, toots. plant one on me." "no, rich!" you squeal with another laugh, shoving him as he beams down at you. slowly, he pulls you into his chest and you lay your head, wrapping your arms around him. the proximity of your bodies takes your breath away as you breathe in the faint scent of mint, strawberry and cigarettes. it makes you relax almost completely and you're unsure when these feelings with richie started, but you're suddenly hyperaware of them and you think you might be in some real trouble.

"let's do this, y/n/n."

x

you'd expected meeting richie's family to be the most stressful part of your day, but it went so smoothly you were almost concerned.

his mom was taller than you but still shorter than him, and when he lifted her up in greeting it made your heart swell. next was his grandma, who was quite short and had curly gray hair. she hugged you and kissed your cheek and you immediately felt welcome as you met them.

then not shortly after, a fiery bullet with a black dress and light - up sneakers came barreling full speed at richie, making you blink as he yelled, "munch!" and lifted the girl up.

you met his little sister, who he insisted you call "munch," through a shy wave and a grin as she had her arms looped and face buried in his neck.

and then you smiled and pretended not to feel anything as you watched him tickle her and kiss her forehead.

throughout the day, it is physically painful for you to watch richie with his family. really, it is.

you know richie tozier. the boy who falls asleep at the library and drools on his textbook, the boy who ties people's shoelaces together at parties when he's just entered that drunken stage of "pranky richie." he's the dumbass who fell out the window of bill's dorm and into the bushes, the kid who was a huge nerd yet incessantly boasted about his 'very high' body count (which, by the way, you did not believe). he was the loud person at every party, the kind who drew people in out of admiration, fascination or loathing, he was the boy who got the highest gpa and also the highest amount of parking violations and speeding tickets.

but here, at home...

god, richie was incredible. he had a whole other side to him that fit in perfectly, like a missing piece to a puzzle that you didn't even know was incomplete. he spent as much time with his sister, munch, as he could - singing to her, brushing and braiding her hair, teasing her relentlessly, and making snacks for the three of you.

he even wore a tiara and a tutu when munch insisted you have a tea party - and he steeped real tea (which tasted like shit because he did not know how to steep tea), even getting out his grandma's fancy cups.

the way he treated munch was honestly the nail in the coffin for you, because the one thing you expected richie to be bad at was interacting with young kids. like, he swears like a sailor, is always bouncing around, rarely goes a day without a cigarette, and just all around seems like he'd prefer the company of an average-aged joe. but he is full of surprises, as you've learned.

x

it took almost six hours of driving to get to his grandma's house, none of which richie allowed you to drive, despite your insistence. so after a quick catnap, you'd spent the entire day exploring the house, playing games, and getting to know munch and the rest of his family. and so now, before bed, richie was upstairs showering while you were sitting downstairs at the kitchen table with his grandma and his sister.

you were left to your own wits with his family, which wasn't too bad, but you're nervous you're going to slip up.

"you are just such a lovely young woman, aren't you?" his grandma asks, sipping on her bailey's. you laugh, shrugging your shoulders. "you're too kind, really. you guys are just easy to be around." you say with a smile.

"now i just wonder, what made you settle with richie?" she asks, lifting a brow. you choke on the last gulp of your own bailey's, the warmth going straight to your stomach and the alcohol right to the head. you decide to go the joke route.

"i have no idea, i mean. have you seen those awful shirts?" you say with a snort. his grandma laughs sweetly, sipping again and seemingly forgetting the problem so you pull at your collar, willing for richie to come rescue you.

speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"-hey, you can't judge my life choices, y/n/n, because you are one of them." he says with a grin, drawing you into the crook of his shoulder. "the best one, might i add."

you flush but just roll your eyes, knowing that it's just for show, but secretly yearning for that to be true.

he groans."can you at least pretend you think i'm charming?" richie whines,  "that costs extra." you say, then suddenly your eyes snap to richie's as you realize what you've said.

"costs?" his grandma asks, looking confused. you clear your throat, "o-oh, i..."

"she owes me gas money." "he owes me money for food."

you stare at each other - fuck. that's kind of awkward. richie's grandma hums in suspicion and your mouth feels dry.

richie suddenly guffaws loudly, shaking your shoulders as he nods. "well aren't we the cutest, y/n/n? okay, let's get you off to bed now." he rushes, shitty excuse doing nothing to fix the situation as he tugs your arm so you rise from the stool, then places your empty mug in the sink. he kisses his grandma on the cheek and hurries you upstairs, towards the guest bedroom where you're both staying.

x

the next day was when you really realized that richie tozier never stopped fidgeting. he was an anxious person inherently, so you understood this mixed with his adhd led him to tapping fingers, humming and bouncing his legs.

earlier, he'd had his arm secured around your waist (a foreign yet welcoming sensation) as you'd eaten dinner with his family. he was shaking his leg so aggressively that the table was vibrating and you loved it - you loved the uncomfortable but understanding looks on everyone's faces. you loved that they loved richie just as you did, you loved that they accepted him and teased him and hugged him and joked with him and listened to him like you did.

"what're you thinking' about?" he'd asked into your ear, loud enough that the others had definitely heard. his grin was nearly audible and you smile, looking into his warm eyes, "just you." you'd said simply, with a shrug. and as the words left your mouth, you realized you weren't even putting on a show, or ‘faking it' for his family.

you just really, really liked richie.

shit.

so now, it was well after richie's sister had gone to sleep and the rest of the family was up drinking, listening to music and telling stories. you really were enjoying all the embarrassing stories that fell from maggie's lips, her brain and body being well into a bottle of chardonnay and being more and more humiliating as the clock ticked on.

"-and he was- what was he, dear, seven?" she asks, hand falling onto wentworth's thigh. richie groans, "mom, stop. this isn't even funny."

you nudge him, "speak for yourself."

richie scowls then, leaning back against the awful floral pattern of the couch and pulling you into his side. you smile as you nuzzle into his chest, listening to his wild heartbeat as maggie laughs, "oh, rich. we're just teasing you because we love you."

you nod and giggle as he sticks his tongue out at her. his grandma speaks up, "how did you two kids meet?"

she sounds almost angry, and you're not sure why, so you laugh a little into your sleeve as richie leans up a bit as if preparing for a bullshit speech.

"well y/n was friends with bill first, you know. bill, mike, and her had a class together, and i always heard about y/n this, oh y/n that." richie starts. you smile as you watch him talk, recognizing that it really is the way you met. you'd figured he would just make something up.

"-but anyways, this one time, she came into the dorm because she thought bill would be there. it was just me, though. i was working on some homework or something, and she-she just looked amazing. seriously, i sounded like bill when i introduced myself because i stuttered so much." maggie shakes her head at that, but richie plows through, "and god, ma, she's so smart, she was so sweet i swear i almost got cavities just from talkin' to her for ten minutes. i have never been more star struck in my life, dad. i swear." he says, shaking his head. "later, after y/n left, bill told me he did it intentionally. the little wingman he is, tried to get us to hang out because he knew i'd fall head over heels in love. who couldn't?" he ends, smiling gently at you and brushing his hand on your cheek.

oh.

you feel yourself flush and then you smile at the carpet, your hand rising to grab richie's and lace them together.  you didn't know how damn thick tozier could lay it on - boy did he know how to woo a girl. even if it's all fake.

"meant to be, huh?" wentworth says, and you look from him to richie's grandma, then to richie. "guess so." you say quietly, leaning up to quickly peck richie's cheek and then telling yourself it's just for show in front of his family. it isn't.

it was only 15 minutes later that richie decided it was time to retire to the bed, insisting you come with him - but you know it’s because he’s getting very embarrassed. it was cute to see him flustered for a change. 

"goodnight!" you call, waving to maggie and went as they raise their glasses at the two of you, maggie with a knowing glint in her eye.

you both walk in content silence until you get into your bedroom. 

the music still plays downstairs, a melody of piano and guitar and maybe a quartet wafting up through the vents and creating an eerily romantic ambiance. slowly and wordlessly, richie puts his hands on your waist and hums nonsense as he sways the two of you.

without thinking, you melt into his touch and smile.

you wind your arms around his neck as you move with him, his meaningless humming setting your heart into overdrive - or, perhaps, it's because of the proximity to the boy in front of you.

"rich, nobody's here to see us." it's whispered, because you really don't want to pull away or to have him realize that this isn't what friends do, because you like it. a lot. 

"i know." he says it so softly, you barely hear it. but it's there, the words are out in the open, and you like the way they fall over the air in the room like they're meant to be there. the soft light of the single lamp, the ugly floral wallpaper, the smell of richie.

"isn't it nice, though?" he adds, almost like an afterthought. you grin down at the carpet below you, your eyes taking in his striped socks, his feet absolutely dwarfing yours as you move back and forth gently.

"yeah, it really is." you whisper back, lifting your head up to watch his owl-eyes as they stare back at you, his chewed lips parted as small puffs of breath fall out, his nose splattered with freckles that you can make out from the proximity. he smells like chocolate and that damn mint smell again

"richie..." you start, your eyes trained on his lips as you slowly feel yourself leaning closer to him. he looks frozen, his eyes now changing from wide to almost hooded as he stares down at you. 

you wonder if he's afraid to move, because he's stopped swaying you and now his thumbs are rubbing circles into your side, slipping under your top and yeah, that's definitely new but it's amazing and you wonder if it's such a bad thing for you to want all this stuff with richie.

and to want more.

"yeah babe?" he asks and your brain marvels at how natural and unceremoniously the pet word falls from his lips, as if that really was your name.

but then - be it fear, shame, or anxiety - you mumble out the words, shaking your head. "did bill really try to set us up? l-like, was that all true?" you say with an awkward smile. you just clear your throat, eyes not focusing on richie as if you're looking for something, anything to occupy your mind because you can physically feel the tension and it's suffocating you.

"yeah." he says simply after a couple moments, arms still wrapped around you. you're now too nervous to look at him because he'll see how pleased you are, how happy it makes you that people want you and richie to be together. "all of it was real." he says and his voice sounds so honest, so genuine and so raw that you smile bashfully, looking at him shyly.

"oh, cool." you mutter quietly, fingers playing with the fabric on his chest. he chuckles and his chest shakes with the noise as he pulls you even closer to him. his fingers rise softly to cup your chin and he tilts your head so you're looking in to each other's eyes.

richie is staring at you with a sincerity that you swear you've never seen before; his gaze on yours makes you hear a soft guitar melody, makes you feel weightless and completely full at the same time, makes you taste adventure and strawberries. 

his lips are parting and if he were to speak to you right now, you're completely confident that you would not comprehend a single one of his words because you're too caught up in him. he's making you see pale pinks and blues and lilac and you swear you want to stay the subject of his gaze forever and ever, just you and him and the world outside this room. 

"cool, hm? cool is all i get, baby?" he asks softly, and the only reason you hear it at all is because you feel his breath on your lips and even though you said 'no kissing,' that was a lie - you think you might want to feel his lips on yours forever. your eyes fall shut as you grip his shirt collar, smelling his stupid strawberry 3-in-1 wash as you lean in closer.

and his lips brush yours so faintly that you swear it's like a kiss from a fairy; there and gone so quickly you aren't sure if it ever happened in the first place-

"-jesus, munch!" richie suddenly yelps, scaring you and himself as he jumps slightly, leaning away from you.

you look down, eyes opening to see richie's sleepy sister staring up at you two with wide eyes, her hand clutching richie's leg. "why are you up, kid?" he asks softly, kneeling to her height, hands leaving you. your heart pounds wildly in your chest and you try to catch your breathing, your fingers brushing your lips as you watch richie. did that just happen?

munch whispers into richie's ear, looking to the floor afterwards and you smile, loving how different the siblings are in personality and how sweetly richie treats her. 

richie looks to you with a bashful grin of his own, his cheeks glowing pink and making your heart flutter because at least he felt slightly the same way you felt right now.

"munch wants you to read her a story." he says, shrugging lightly, "you don't have to if you don't want to." he adds, his hand rubbing her head as she hugs his leg. you smile, "n-no, i'd love to."

richie rubs munch's cheek, "lead the way, kiddo." richie loops his arm around your waist softly as you follow her to her room, and you are pretty damn sure it's not just for show.

it took about ten minutes for her to fall back asleep, nestled in a mound of stuffed animals, blankets, and an old shirt of richie's that he'd left behind when he went to school. 

your own eyes droop as you lean your head onto richie's shoulder from where the two of you rest against the wall, stretched on the edge of her bed, and the last thing you remember is smiling at munch's sleeping figure before it's all blank.

you wake up again with a start as you hear a thudding noise - your eyes are bleary and dry, your back and neck kinked in the worst way and you groan a bit as you stir and lift your head. you look around and richie is standing in front of you, arm outstretched. wordlessly, you grab his hand and pull yourself to your wobbly legs as you look at his sister's sleeping body.

you're so exhausted and thrown off that you just follow richie wordlessly into your room and pull off your jeans, putting on shorts before flopping onto the bed next to richie in the dark. 

"g'night." he mumbles sleepily as he wraps a heavy arm around your waist, pulling you closer so he can reach over you to put his glasses on the nightstand. he falls back onto the pillow with a tired huff and you're already half asleep but you can't help your heart from picking up speed as a pair of lips press softly to your hairline.

you fall asleep this time feeling warm and comfortable, the feeling of his lips burning on your forehead sweetly. 

x

when you wake the next day richie’s already gone, the space next to you cold and empty.

 after getting ready, you pad down to the main floor to find everyone outside, munch and richie splashing around in the pool in the backyard. you're excited to see they've set up a lunch outside in the shade under the tree and you decide to go put on your swimsuit just as richie walks in.

"mornin' sugar." he grins, walking over to the kitchen sink. you snort, looking at the clock on the oven: 11:18.

"hey, sorry i slept so late." you mumble, your stomach filling with butterflies as he smiles genuinely at you. your eyes trail over his bare chest, dripping with water droplets as he breathes slowly. your mind flashes back to last night, and you shake your head, jabbing your thumb behind you. "um, i should go put on my suit." you feel awkward. 

he hums, pushing off the counter, "i'll walk with you."

you frown as he does, nervous about being alone with him again. you're being a fucking dumbass, sure, but he makes you nervous in the most delicious way and you can't help but picture his lips fully on yours. it's a terrifying thought, honestly.

"my grandma is being weird today, i think she's onto it because she said we were just really good frien-" richie mutters as you walk the hall and you cut him off, frustrated with his paranoia for no reason.

"rich, why does it even matter if she suspects us? it's not like she knows for sure." you try to reason, your hands falling on to his arms to halt his stride.

he’d just mentioned his grandma’s offhand comment about how close of friends you seem to be. maybe it was nothing, or maybe she didn't believe you. why did it even matter?

he shakes his head, eyes wide. "because that's fucking embarrassing for me! i have feelings, you know." he defends.  

you roll your eyes - you knew damn well richie had feelings. this was getting to be so stupid, this whole thing was pointless - because you know that you've just fallen in love with richie for real and made things ten times harder for the two of you.

"of course you do, rich, but we-"

the noise of footfall in the hallway to your left sends you both into a panic for no entirely good reason, so you tug him closer towards you with wide eyes. his hands catch himself on the wall on either side of you, his breath fanning on your face.

why are you so panicky and jumpy? "did they hear us?" richie whispers frantically, head turning to look and see who was coming towards you.

so instead of responding, for some reason your brain insists you act like a fool and draw his lips to yours. your hands cup his jaw as you press your lips to his, the feeling sending your stomach through loops and your brain fuzzy.

holy shit, this was exactly what you told yourself not to do. shit.

just as you pull back slightly, intending only for the kiss to be a chaste peck, richie's hands are on your body and he's pressing you against the wall, deepening the kiss as he tilts your head to deepen it. 

you're caught off guard, eyes wide as you throw your hands around his neck, kissing him fervently. your eyes close and his tongue prods your lip, taking your fucking breath away.

he tastes like sugary lemonade and you think you're melting, spiraling and falling deeper as you open your mouth. you almost moan out at the feeling of his tongue in your mouth, sliding your tongue against him just as a throat clears.  

you both pull back, alarmed even though you knew this was going to happen - but you're more alarmed at what the fuck richie just did than at his grandma staring at you. 

yeah, his grandma catching you kissing was sort of a huge victory in the 'selling the fake relationship' department, but it’s also a huge bummer for your 'pride and self-confidence' department.

“shouldn't you two be outside?” she says, a small smile on her lips. you let out a quick breath, unable to fucking speak after what just happened. you faintly think you can hear richie saying something to her and then she’s shaking her head with a smile and walking towards the backyard. you blink,  your fingers still hovering over your tingling lips. then, you snap out of it and turn to richie.  as you shove him up the stairs, you yelp, "if you ever kiss me like that again-"

"oh, shut up, you liked it!" he fights back as he turns toward the room you're sharing and lifts a brow, "you opened your mouth for tongue-" he starts but you screech, rushing through the doorframe and shutting the door a little to loudly, "i did not!" you hiss, shoving his shoulders and hiding your smile.  

he stares at you, a grin on his face and eyes teasing. "-then why'd you lick mine when i stuck it in your mouth?" he’s shrugging. you want to punch him in embarrassment because holy shit, is this not a big deal to him?

your eyes widen and you scrunch your face, "god, you're disgusting, just-" you sigh, shaking your head.

your heart is thumping wildly in your chest and you have to physically hold your hands down by your sides so you don't reach up and tug at the stray curl on richie's forehead.

"doll, all i'm sayin' is that was a good practice kiss." he shrugs again.

right. it was for practice.

he speaks up again and you swear he’s giving you a headache. "hey, i mean...since we're here, should we practice sleeping together too?" you turn bright at his words. "richard!" he giggles as you slap his shoulders and he mutters, "-yeah, no, i was kidding, sugar. damn, baby." he mutters, shaking his head with a grin so bright you can't help but share it. “i mean, technically we already did, last night and the night before. but that’s not the kind of sleepin’ i was talking about-“

you cut him off with a stern look and an elbow to the gut and he has the audacity to fucking giggle. 

your stomach tosses and flips itself sick inside of you at the sound and you sigh, giving him a look as he grins. you hope he doesn't notice the absolute heart-eyes you have for him at every given moment.

"cross my heart, sugar. totally kidding." he says, eyes closing as his fingers lazily trace an 'x' over his chest. "i'll wait out here for ya, toots." he says as he walks out of the room, leaving you to change into your suit quickly.

when you open the door back up for him, he whistles. "damn, y/n/n, you look fuckin' sexy."

you stare at him with a blank expression. "richie i'm wearing the same clothes as earlier." you deadpan, gesturing to yourself, having put your clothes back on top of your suit. he grins cheekily as he walks down the stairs, flashing you a wink, "i know that."

he rocks back on his heels. 

"so what can i do to show my love for you since i can't kiss you?" he asks, smirking. you roll your eyes, "shut up, richie. we're by ourselves right now, you don't have to do anything." you insist, pulling your hair back from your face. he sighs, groaning as if in pain. "but what if i just want to?"

you freeze, looking to him with wide eyes as your stomach drops. "do you really just want to?" you ask, mostly joking as your heart beat picks up. he takes a few steps towards you, shirt now on as his curls drip slightly. you watch a drop roll down his jaw and you swallow.

"yeah, i really do." he says simply, shrugging. "i’ve realized that i really do want to do all the boyfriend stuff for you."

you let out a shaky laugh, a smile falling onto your face as you raise your eyebrows. "for show?" you ask, and he shakes his head with a small laugh. "no." he says and you stare at him, unmoving. 

"so you’re gonna make me say it, huh?" he says with a smile that gives you full-blown butterflies as he pulls you to him. you smile back at him, heart melting into mush at the thought of richie being your real boyfriend.

"i think you should, just to be safe." you say with a grin. he smiles brightly, hand coming up to your cheek. his thumb rubs over your face.

"i love you, y/n." he says softly, looking into your eyes. "i want to be your boyfriend, and i want you to be my girl and i want to do stupid shit with you and have tea parties with munch, and for you to listen to my parent's embarrass me, and to spend all my time with you. i want all the boyfriend stuff, y/n."

you shake your head, "we already do that, rich. i've been yours this whole time." his cheeks turn pink and you love the way he looks so you add, "i love you too, richie. i really do. please be my boyfriend."

he kisses you, then.

it's soft, his lips like rose petals and his kiss like honey and it's quite different from your other kiss - both incredible, but this one with much more intention and love. it melts you completely as richie pulls you closer to him, his lips parting from yours slowly, a smile falling onto his face.

"what do you say then, want to go for a swim?" he asks softly, sending you a smile that is blushy and beautiful. you smile, pecking his lips. "sure, rich."

"c'mon, girlfriend." he says happily, tugging you down the stairs and making you grin stupidly, knowing this time for sure that it's not just for show.

//tag list:  @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings​ @toziershmozier @simplesammyx @dickology64 @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby​ @daughter-of-the-stars11  @lets-vibe-bro @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @finnskindofwoman​ @diorbubs @kait-tozier​ @upamongthestarss​ @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @baby-yoda-a \\

[gh0stwriting]

Hcs for bby boi Thomas, Michael, Jason, and wall child proposing to their s/o, but instead of an actual ring, For Brahms he uses a funyun like the man child he is please?

(wall child has me fucking rolling omg 😂 also yall really be knowing my type at this point and ill gladly write for these boys no matter how many asks i get for them)

THOMAS HEWITT

he tried to propose to you once with a severed finger that had a huge ring on it, but we don't talk about that. (Hoyt sold it when he found it)

the second time he tried to propose he kind of just handed you a metal washer with no explanation. you asked him what it was for and he showed you the matching one, a silver washer bent all kinds of ways to fit his finger and you realized what he was trying to say.

at first you were hesitant, you weren't sure if he was mentally developed enough to understand marriage. but nonetheless you slipped the washer onto your finger and he made a sort of giggling snort sound before carrying you into the house to show off his new fiancé.

Hoyt was pissed to say the least. He kept going on about how “the saw is family boy. you ain't leavin’ it behind.” and Thomas’ mood went from over the moon to looking like a kicked puppy in seconds.

you stood up to Hoyt for maybe the first time ever, telling him that if this is what Thomas really wanted, that he couldn't physically stop him, family or not. that seemed to strike a nerve though and Hoyt looked close to snapping at you. Thomas stepped between you though, recieving a blow to the shoulder which was surely meant for your face. Thomas was fine, but Hoyt sure as hell wasn't.

MICHAEL MYERS

(this is lowkey OOC but i feel like he might do this if he fully trusts and loves the person)

he's not wearing a wedding ring, no way. it’d probably fall off and he’d lose it and he just doesn't really see the point. marriage is really just a few thousand dollars and some papers anyways.

though he does want to show the extent of his love for you, and the fact that he wants to spend as long as he's able with you, so he leaves for quite a while. at first you're worried something happened, but then realized it's just Michael, he does this a lot, it's how he copes with emotions.

When he does come back however, he has many things with him, the most noticeable being a bouquet of flowers that he probably took off of a grave. then he pulls out a cheap looking BFF necklace, no doubt stolen as well and drops it into your hands.

the last thing he does takes you by surprise as its a day you never thought you'd live to see, he shows his devotion to you by reluctantly removing his mask, you being the only person besides Laurie to see his face as it is now; shaggy brown hair hanging over parts of his face, his blinded eye a milky blue color, the other cold but somehow vibrant. a litany of scars crossing over each other covering large parts of his neck and chest.

if this doesn't prove his love, nothing will. but somehow he mistook your look of shock and awe as fear and disgust and quickly started to replace his mask, your hand grabbing his wrist, stopping him. “michael, i-thank you for trusting me. if this is a proposal, the answer has always been yes.” you say with tears welling up in your eyes. you hug him and the second you let go, he rushes off to sulk somewhere, you overloaded his brain with emotions.

JASON VOORHEES

in his eyes, marriage is bad. His parents were married but got divorced when he was born and has hated the concept ever since. you came into his life and he found himself warming up to the subject but still wasn't completely comfortable with it.

but you trusted him with your life and he trusted you with his, and he wanted to make sure you never forget that. He wasn't aware of what normal proposal etiquette was but decided that whatever he did would be worth something.

he woke you up in the middle of the night to him dropping a few things on the bed and then tapping you to get your attention. You roll over and notice the weirdest object first, which seems to be some sort of skull. Maybe a coyote? It looked thoroughly cleaned at least. The only other item was his jacket, blood stains, cuts and all. 

You confirmed with him that these things were for you before putting on his jacket. You went to examine the skull after, flipping it over to notice a carving in the underside of the jawbone, unsure if its a heart or an infinity symbol you look up at him, to which he points to your chest, signifying that it is, indeed, a heart.

See, he never proposed per se, but the commitment is there. Him giving you his jacket was a huge act of trust as he's worn it for years, and unlike Michael he’d never take off his mask if he even could.

BRAHMS HEELSHIRE

It was the day after a grocery delivery and you two were still sorting through the assortment of meals and snacks in the many boxes. As you two were putting away the last of the food he found something he’d never tried before, but he quickly put the package inside his shirt, much like a child would so you didn’t find out. Not like you could hear the crinkling of the bag over the music you had playing.

You turned around to ask him what he wanted for dinner when you saw the object poking out of the bottom of his shirt, raising your eyebrows in a silent question. To which he held the hem of his shirt and started to walk out of the room.

You repeatedly called his name and tried to get him to put the thing away, but he refused. You tried to grab his arm to stop him, but again he refused and ran to one of the openings in the walls, effectively stopping your pursuit as you didn't fully understand the paths yet.

With a roll of your eyes and a huff you went back to the kitchen to start preparing dinner, not expecting to see him again until he was either sick from whatever he managed to sneak or until you forced him to leave the walls for dinner.

But right as you were about to plate the food and call for your man-child of a boyfriend you heard his childlike voice call your name, making you jump and drop the hot food all over the floor. You turned around, prepared to scold him when you saw him on one knee with a funyun in his hand. “(y/n). Marry me?” was his simple request, using his regular voice so you knew he was serious. Of course you said yes, and scolded him later.

[a-deed-without-a-name]

Sam’s finally too fat to fit into Dean’s hand-me-downs, and he’s excited to get his first set of new clothes that are just for him.

Dad had been in a bad mood since they left the room that morning. Actually, if Dean really thought about it, he'd been in a bad mood for days now. Maybe even weeks. It darkened further every single time he caught sight of Sam, or heard him talk, even.

Usually, Dean was great at smoothing things over for his father. His brother, too. Awesome at calming things down between them and bringing the general feel of the family back down to baseline.

This one, though? He wasn't touching this one.

"Go on." As they walked into the store, Dad gave Sam a rough shove. Dean had to stop himself from steadying him as he stumbled, but didn't fall. Kid had a solid center of gravity these days. "Three shirts, two pants, seven pairs each of socks and jocks. One belt."

Sam turned to look over his shoulder, eyes shining in his round face. "Can I get new shoes, too?"

"Why?" Dad bit the word out. "You porking up down there, too?"

Dean winced. But Sam just smirked, in a way that would've gotten him thrown over Dad's lap if they weren't in public, sixteen or not, and sauntered off towards the boys' husky section. Well, less "sauntered." More "waddled."

"Jesus." Dad rubbed at his face. "There goes next month's gas money."

This was the second store they'd been to. The first had been Goodwill, but turned out that people tended not to give away the kind of clothes that Sam would fit into. Dean guessed it spoke to the tendency to gain rather than lose weight.

"He's just gearing up for a growth spurt," he volunteered, hoping that would pour a little oil on the troubled waters, knowing it probably wouldn't. "Remember me?"

"Growth spurt, my ass. Kid's sixteen, if he was gonna get above five-eight, would've happened by now. Ain't got nothing to do with 'growth.' Not up, at least." Dad shook his head. "It's that damn crap he eats. Kid's a fucking pig."

Dad grimaced, and Dean knew that the same images were scrolling through their heads just then: Sam ordering a cheeseburger and fried chicken at a diner, then two slices of pie for dessert. Sam buying practically the entire candy aisle when they stopped for gas. Sam when they got home from a hunt, smug and swollen with his bloated gut on display, empty pizza box and liter bottle of soda next to him. Sam happily snacking his way through a couple family-sized bags of Doritos and Funyuns as he researched.

Dean could put away plenty himself, but...yeah. Sammy had been hitting it hard for months now. Only a little of the groaning as he tried to haul Dean's old jeans up over his fattened ass was theatrical.

"Way he's going," Dad was continuing, "wonder how long he's gonna be able to fit in the car. Won't even be able to haul that fat little gut off the couch - already can't, when he's glutted himself enough."

"C'mon. He ain't that bad."

"The hell it ain't."

Dad was silent, stewing. When he spoke, it was slow, like something was just occurring to him.

"If he was doing it on purpose..." He turned to eye Dean. "You'd tell me. Right?"

Dean swallowed. He thought about his hands on Sam's soft belly, one massaging gas bubbles out as the other dropped squares of cheap chocolate between pink, grinning lips. He forced a smile.

"Course I would."

[shhh-no-ones-home]

December 3 - vinny mauro

title: picture perfect couple

++++

prompt: Person A talks person B into taking family photos with them to get their family off their back this holiday season

request from: n/a

tag list: @musicsexandpizza69 @svintsandghosts @alilpunkrock @cynic-spirit @theoneandonlykymberlee @thisplace-ishaunted @lifeisabitchandsoareyou

++++

"Shit."

I said, looking over my mother's text. She had sent it to all of us. All five of us, me and my 2 brothers and 2 sisters.

"What's wrong?"

Vinny asked, looking down into the funyuns bag and pulling one out.

"My mother wants us kids to send out Christmas cards to her and the family."

He looked confused.

"What's wrong with that?"

I sent him a panicked look, a whine escaping my throat.

"How am I gonna explain to this woman that I am twenty six and single even though I told her I wasn't. And what's worse is she said she is sending us each a check to pay for it."

I clicked my phone off and dropped into the couch, sinking into it and sulking at my new dilemma. I heard him laugh and slowly turned my head to look at what could be so funny.

"What?"

he shrugged, popping another chip in his mouth.

"ill be your fake boyfriend."

he said and i snorted.

"you most certainly will not."

i said and he frowned.

"why not? its not like we dont have pictures together on your socials, it wouldnt be that suspicious. plus i would make a great fake boyfriend."

i sent him a look and he raised his brows expectantly.

"no."

i said and he shifted in his seat on the couch.

"come on y/n! itll be fun!"

i rolled my eyes at him before giving in.

"fine, but you have to take this seriously vin, i mean it."

i pointed in his direction and he crossed his finger over his heart.

"i promise i will take this as seriously as you need me to. and i vow to be the best photo buddy."

i sent him a look before turning my phone back on to text my mother back.

---

the day was finally here, our photoshoot for the Christmas cards.

"vin are you done yet?"

i called down the hall, hearing grunting and drawing my brows.

"you good in here?"

i asked, pushing the door open. in front of me was vin on the floor, his shirt disheveled and his jeans half way up his thighs. i couldnt help laughing at his predicament.

"what the hell are you doing?"

i said amused and he sighed.

"this isnt working."

i shook my head.

"well it would help if you unbuttoned them."

he sent me a dumb look.

"you think i didnt try that first?"

he said and i shook my head, standing over him and leaning down to undo the pants. i frowned when the button popped but the zipper wouldnt budge. i stood up, hands going to my hips.

"alright, take them off."

i said and he sat up, his brows drawn.

"what?"

i moved to the closet.

"we'll try something else."

i heard him struggle to stand.

"but didnt your mom want all matching outfits? thats why she sent them."

i shrugged, pulling a similar pair of his own jeans out and tossing them over to him.

"she shouldve thought about that before buying jeans with a faulty zipper, now get dressed, we're gonna be late."

i said, leaving him standing there in his boxers. i walked quickly down the hallway to the kitchen, finishing breakfast for the two of us so we could take it to go. when he came in he did a spin.

"this look alright?"

he said and i nodded, handing him the muffin and kissing his cheek.

"yes, now lets get a move on it."

---

as we finished the last set of pictures i couldnt help laughing at vin. he had been a light in the darkness the whole two hours we had been out here so far and i was glad he had talked me into this. i was just hoping the pictures turned out as good as i felt they did, even though i had seen anything to suggest good or bad.

"no!"

i yelled as he ran up behind me, tossing leaves my way and making me laugh. i heard the camera click a few times as he hugged me from behind, a wide smile across his lips.

"why not?"

he joked, leaning down and kissing my cheek. i nodded my head, looking into his eyes as he pulled away.

"youll get them in my hair."

i said matter-of-factly and he mocked me.

"oh, youll get them in your hair? is that right?"

he asked and i nodded.

"yes, that is right."

i said and he shook his head, picking me up and slinging me over his shoulder.

"Vincenzo! put me down!"

i screeched, the photographer laughing at us.

"actually thats brilliant."

she said and i sent her a concerned look.

"stay right there."

she said, moving forward to tilt his head so he was looking over his opposite shoulder. she then handed me the 'family christmas' plaque, moving back to her spot.

"youre doing perfect y/n, just one more."

she said, taking a few more snap shots. when she looked at them she smiled back at me.

"i think we've got it."

she said, vinny bouncing up and making me gasp before he dropped me down onto the ground making me laugh. as i was going down though i grabbed him and pulled him into the pile of dead leaves with me.

"aw come on!"

he said as i rolled on top of him, straddling him and dropping leaves on top of his chest. he sent me an annoyed look before sitting up quickly and all the leaves falling to the forest floor around us.

"thats rude."

he said, draping his arms around my waist.

"thats payback baby."

i said, poking his nose. he scrunched it at me, leaning forward.

"its rude."

i shook my head.

"you brought this on yourself."

i said.

"oh!"

the photographer said, taking both our attention.

"i know i said i was done but thats perfect. could i get you two to kiss though?"

she asked and my eyes went wide, my head snapping in the vinnys direction. he had a nervous smile on his face.

"we dont have to if you dont want to."

he said and i thought for a second.

"what the hell."

i said, holding his head lightly and leaning in. when our lips connected i heard the camera shutter a few times. i drew back, resting my forehead against his but keeping my eyes closed.

"i love you."

he said lightly and my eyes snapped open. he had a lazy smile on his lips and i couldnt help melting a little bit.

"i love you too vin."

i said and he pulled me in for another kiss. when i pulled away again he moved his hands back to my waist.

"guess you dont have to worry about having a fake boyfriend any more."

he said and i raised a brow.

"oh?"

i could see the blush creeping its way to his face.

"that is, if you dont mind taking this to another level."

i laughed a little bit and nodded.

"id love that vin."

he sent me a toothy smile, pulling me in for a hug.

"you have no idea how glad i am to hear that."

[kyber-kisses]

Hymn (Part 4)

Winchester Brothers x Sister!reader

Wanna start from the beginning? Here is the Masterlist!

Warnings: a good amount of feels and angst. . but there is fluff!

Summary: Y/N Winchester has wrestled with demons ever since her mother died, but when her younger brothers lives are in danger it’s their souls she fights to save, because isn’t that what a big sister should do? (Based on the song Hymn by Joel Porter) 

A/n: *Throws chapter at you and runs away* Have fun! (gif created by the lovely ellen-reincarnated1967)

“What do you think your doing?” Your voice slightly raising as you stepped back into the motel room, shutting the door softly behind you with a loud click.

“Definitely . . . Not jumping on the bed?” Dean tried, both him and Sam staring down at you from their perch on the nearest bed.

“Wow. I’m convinced.”

“It was Deans idea!” Sam quickly pointed, his little hand lightly smacking against Deans face as he did.

“I leave for three minutes and you guys go crazy? Now I know I can never leave you guys again, which is disappointing-“ you sighed. “Seeing as I was gonna give you guys this extra bag of funyuns.” You slowly pulled the bag out of your hoodie pocket, instantly making Dean freeze.

“Okay, wait we’re sorry.”

“Oh are you? I said no funny business while I was gone.”

“Yes! I’m sorry! Can we have them?” Dean was practically vibrating at this point, teetering on the edge of the mattress.

Narrowing your eyes, you let a silence fall between you before giving in and toss the bag onto the other bed. “Fine, go to town. No crumbs on the bed.” It didn't even take a second before the middle child was vaulting over the space between the beds and ripping the bag open.

Sam grimaced, not making a move from his spot at all. “Funyuns are gross.”

“Yeah, well that’s why I got you this-“ being a subtle as you could, you passed Sam the candy bar you had grabbed from the vending machine with a quick wink, his eyes lighting up as he grabbed it.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

“Yeah, don’t tell Dean.”

“I won’t.”

“Pinkie promise?”

He linked his small finger with yours. “I pinkie promise.”

*. *. *. *. *. *.

“Sam? . . . Sam!”

Suddenly snapping back into reality, Sam whipped his head around took at his brother. “What?”

“I’ve been talkin to you for the past five minutes, have you even heard a word that I’ve said?”

“. . .yes?”

“Wow, you are a terrible liar. What the hell were you even thinking about?”

Pressing his lips together the younger Winchester contemplated whether or not to say anything. You were always a risky topic . . . Especially to Dean, and seeing as his brother had been in a decent mood most of the drive he really didn’t want to take that away.

“Dude, seriously. Tell me what’s going on in that weird head of yours.” Flexing his hands on the steering wheel, Deans eyes bounced back between the road and Sam.

“Y/N. . . What else do you think I would be thinking about right now?”

Dean sucked in a breath before he nodded his head in understanding. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really. She’s gone. What’s it matter?”

He expected Dean to snap, lash out- like he did when they were younger and the wound still fresh, but instead he was silent. . . Only because he was trying to remember everything he could about his sister, both good and bad. He needed something to keep him grounded. For instance, You had been good at making people laugh, you’d take things in directions people wouldn’t expect- lewder, darker, more absurd— then ambush them into responding. Some of Deans humor stemmed from your own, he liked to think it was his way of keeping you close. Along with a love for old western movies and a passion for classic rock.

Happy thoughts. Just keep thinking happy thoughts, Dean. Just because Sam brought up Y/N does not mean you need to get bitter.

Turning his attention towards the radio, the hunter played with the volume until it was a soft hum that could easily be spoken over.

“You remember when Y/N used to play music in the mornings while Dad was gone on hunts?”

Sam let out a soft chuckle as confirmation. “You mean with that dinky old radio she got at a yard sale for like three bucks?”

“Yes! That’s the one!” Dean snapped his fingers, a grin tugging on his lips. “And it wasn’t even the good music we usually listened to in the car. . . It’s was like shitty upbeat soul and R&B.”

“You know she would probably smack you on top of the head if she heard you say that, right?”

“Yeah, probably-“ Dean chuckled, flicking on the turn signal as he turned onto a narrow two lane street. “Anyways you know how’d she dance around to it too? For like the soul purpose of embarrassing is even though there was no one else around?”

“Yeah, and she couldn’t dance worth a shit.” Sam added, smiling as he slowly began to remember.You were always doing stuff to get them to smile or laugh because you knew that in a lifestyle as dark as your families, you needed to keep something lit.

The rest of the drive felt lighter. . . Easier after that small conversation. Even after decades of absence you somehow still managed to put smiles on their faces.Still working hard even in death.

And then Dean pulled into the cemetery and that light and happy feeling he had had moments ago flickered and faded like a dying candle and he could feel his insides slowly beginning to twist as his face dropped. He turned off the engine and barely got two steps from the car before the feeling was too much and it felt like he was being crushed.

“Dean?”

“You know what? On second though this was a terrible idea. Why did we do this? We shouldn’t have done this. Why the fuck did I suggest this?” He quickly rambled, backing towards the car and reaching for the keys again. “Let’s- lets just go home and forget I ever suggested visiting this place-“

The older Winchester didn’t get very far before his brother was letting out a sigh and pushing him forward again. “We drove all this way. You’re not backing out now.”

“Sam-“

“Dude, we both agreed we would do this. Let’s start with just a minute and go from there.”

There was silence for a moment before Dean huffed and stopped resisting his brothers pushing. He felt like a kid again coming back here. Hell the last time he had been here he still was one. Even though they never found a body, their dad was decent enough to pay for a headstone, a place to come back to.

And then they never did.

The cemetery was cool, dew still on the grass as the morning sun began to peak through the trees and light haze. The place was empty except for them. . . Because who visits a cemetery at 6:30 in the morning? Dean sucked in another breath of fresh air, jamming his hands into his pockets despite it growing warmer out as the sun began to rise.

“You know, we probably should have brought mom with us. It’s kinda a dick move on our part to do this and not tell her.” Dean grumbled, eyes already glued on the headstone ahead.

“She’s still on that hunt with Jody. I didn’t really want to bother her.”

“Oh yeah, you’re totally right.” Dean snarked. “Would hate to remind good ol’ mom that her first born has a headstone right next to hers.”

“Why are you being such a dick? You suggested we visit.”

“It’s nothing, Sam. Just drop it.”

Gripping his brothers shoulder suddenly, Sam halted Dean in his tracks. “Nice try. Tell me what’s going on. You were fine ten minutes ago.”

Dean gnawed on the inside of his cheek for a moment before letting another sigh sleep through his lips. “Do you remember that case we worked a few weeks ago with the psycho spirit that caught us?”

“You mean reverend Johnson? Yeah, why?”

“I keep thinking about what he said-“

“Dean, he was a vengeful spirit. He was crazy.” Sam shook his head, dropping his hand from his shoulder. But Dean squeezes his eyes shut as if trying to forget. The words from the reverend still banging around inside his skull. Bad guys really needed to stop it with their monologues.

“What I’ve seen is that the lord provides for those who need it. If you don’t have something, that generally means you don’t need it, or you don’t deserve it.”

At first it had made perfect sense and Dean had just gone with it. He didn’t have his sister because he didn’t deserve to have one.

But then again, by that logic, they didn’t deserve a home when they were younger, and they didn’t deserve to love their sister and be safe. Y/N didn’t deserve her life.

“You’re right.” Dean nodded, in hopes of getting Sam to back off. “You’re right. Dude was crazy. Just hard to get those fuckin words out of my head.” He mumbled, the two of them somehow turning in unison to look at your headstone a few yards away.

It was like the granite slab was staring them both down. The two brothers both afraid to get closer. . . Because to Dean it was like having to face the truth all over again. You were gone. Here reality was set in stone (Pun intended). But then his legs were moving before his brain was and he was kneeling down the wipe the dirt and dust away from your name, calloused fingers smoothing over the engraved letters.

“Why’d you have to go be a hero, huh?” He whispered under his breath, feeling the sudden and familiar sting of on oncoming tears.

He could remember it all so clearly still, how you had thrust your rifle into his hands and quickly tugged on your oversized canvas jacket. How the wind had whipped at your partially pulled up hair when you swung the door to the motel room open. How you told them you’d be back and then never were. Dean wondered if you would still be the same now. Back then he was still too small for his flannels and still wasn’t sure how to aim a gun properly. If you were still alive what would you have looked like now? Would you be taller? Would your hair be longer? . . . And would you have recognized what he and Sam had become?

Would you recognize them at all?

“We shoulda brought flowers or something.” He mumbled, picking the few stray weeds that had grown around the base of the stone. He was fidgeting. He did that when he was uncomfortable.

“We can always go get some. We ain’t too far outside of town.”

Dean mumbled a soft I guess as he rested his chin on his knee, arms looping tightly around his leg as if trying to mimic a hug.

“I think I’m gonna call mom. She would want to be with us for the next stop we make. . . We can always come back here too if she really wants.” Sam spoke up, extending a hand to help pull his brother up.

“Do what you think is right or whatever. I’ll be in the car.” rising to his feet, Dean wiped the dirt from his hands onto the front of his jeans. If he stayed here another minute he was bound to start crying. As He began the trek back through the maze of headstones, his fingers absentmindedly tugged on the piece of fabric on his wrist. The bit of flannel gave him a sense of comfort, because sometimes a bit of cloth could feel like love, and that was all he really wanted right now. It was one of those moments in which he realized how many things he had lost that mattered. Dad. Bobby. Y/N. Sure he had lost mom, but she was back. The rest were still gone.

All he wanted was the chance to see Y/N again, to hear her say I missed you, and I've come home.

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[multishippers-trash-blog]

Big Red

warnings; none, cussing, slight implication of smut?

Hi!! I wrote this because I honestly LOVE this big man and I used to drink this drink called ‘Big Red’ all the time when I was a kid! I wanted there to be a part two because I thought it was getting a little long but this is for my favorite thirst writer on here- @lady-bakuhoe​ !

It’s summer time! Time to put our hats on backwards and to fucking party- Its the last year for class 4-A and they wanted to instead of going to the summer camp, they all raised enough money to get to America! How would a particular Red Riot react to his Crush calling him “Big Red” on accident? 

It was a hot summer day for the class of 4-A students. Not a single breeze to blow their sweat or even a cloud to block the sun. The entire class having voted on a summer school trip to instead of going to the summer training camp for their seiner year before graduating and going out into the hero world- They instead wanted to go to America! See all the pretty things and all the heroes working there and most importantly-

“Hey guys! I found the soda section!” Sero shouted out from isle nine in the grocery store. As of the moment? They were supposed to be meal prepping for the next week, making sure they had brought and exchanged enough money but Todoroki insisted if no one had enough, he was willing to use his fathers credit card to pay for their entire meal plan plus more.

“Sero! Where are you!?” Mina shouted back from isle two, wondering where her friend was so that they could get a good look at the sodas too. (Y/N) was there too with Mina, having dragged them along to check out the cool spicy snacks they would have in the chip isle. “Oooo! (Y/N), check this out! FLAMIN HOT FUNYUNS! I wonder what a funyun is…” Mina spoke out as she looked at the bag. “Oh! Or even this delicious looking bag of-“ Yet, her words were dulled out by (Y/N) who was just absorbed in their little world.

(Y/N) was a peculiar student. With a not-so ordinary quirk. To say at least! It wasn’t bad but it totally throws peoples head for a loop when they learn about their quirk. What was their quirk exactly? The name was called ‘Shadow Targets’, to put it lightly when (Y/N)’s shadow gets attached to another shadow, they can feel the strongest emotions within the heart in the moment; Love, Anger, Envy, Jealousy, and Sadness. They’re the talker and if they cannot get the villain to stand down, they know the weakest point in how to take them down without too much damage to the surrounding area. Yet, with this quirk, it always seemed to pair up well the famous gentleman in the class. The redheaded beast of a gentleman who’s thighs could crush your head if they wanted to. Eijirou “Fuck me until you’re the only thing in my mind and coming out from my mouth” Kirishima. (Y/N) was the peace maker while Eijirou was the enforcer. Good Cop and Bad Cop. The distraction and the attacker.

The male had certainly gotten bigger. By bigger the whole class means his entire fucking body. Ever since he went to Fatgum’s agency, he had decided he needed to strengthen his quirk and himself before school ended and so he looked like a pro already. He looked like a beast. Longer hair that was up in a ponytail most of the time now, his horns sticking out to give him his cheeky devil-like persona which gave him the total wrong vibe to others. He was bigger in stature and his muscles just fit him perfectly to make him like a strong competitor that no one wanted to fuck with.

Yet… He was a total sweetheart to the dear (Y/N). Unbeknownst to the clueless (Y/N), this large redheaded beast absolutely had the biggest soft spot for the young and beautiful (Y/N). To their words and how they can keep him lured in a conversation for hours to the small quirks of their body when they’re focused makes him break a blush due to how cute they are. He can’t help it… He’s had the biggest crush on the young doe ever since he laid eyes on them the first day of UA.

“Hey (Y/N)!!” Well speak of the devil. Kirishima raced into isle two, waving a small hello to Mina who just put on that cheesy like cat grin, knowing exactly what to do. “Hey guys!  I’m going to the kids meals to see what type they have! See ya!!” Mina shouted happily as she snatched up a few bags of Hot Cheetos and rushed off with them. That was strange… Usually Mina were excited to greet Kirishima when he just seemed to pop out of no where, yet today it just seemed as if everyone was trying to put them together. Alone. With peering eyes peeking into the isle where the two stood alone.

“Uh.. That was strange- Wasn’t it?” Kirishima questioned out with a small embarrassed chuckle. ‘Damn Mina. Leave me alone without a wing man, why don’t ya!?’ Ejirou scolded in his head as he let out a small huff and glanced down to the confused looking (Y/N). ‘No time to delay Eijirou! Woo her before this trip ends!! But the grocery store… ‘ He seemed to just glance around to shoppers talking, kids screaming and cashiers looking like they wanted to just keel over and pass out due to the usual Karen screaming about how there wasn’t enough fresh apples for her apple pie that needed thirty apples. Why thirty? Who knows. ‘This isn’t a good spot to confess your undying love to the person of your dreams-‘ His thoughts were cut off by a certain hand coming up to his face and giving a clear and loud snap.

“Eijirou? You okay? You seem stiff. Are you homesick?” (Y/N) asked out worriedly as they pulled the larger man down to their height and just put their hand on the larger mans forehead. ‘No fever’ they reduced down. “You’re not hot. Too you can’t be sick already.” (Y/N) spoke out and hummed out curiously before just grabbing Kirishima’s hand and taking him down to isle nine where Sero and Denki were happily chatting about which soda to get for the boys night on Saturday night, the night before the flight out of America. Yet, when they caught sight of the red haired man and (h/c) haired woman. The two just seemed to smirk, telling each other they got enough soda and just rushed away from the two coming own the isle. ‘Another strange occurrence. I wonder what exactly is going on…’ (Y/N) seemed to wonder in their head as the stopped at the box that was the same color of Kirishima’s hair. ‘BIG RED’ it was labeled.

“Big Red?” She stated out loud, looking at the box and letting go of Kirishima’s hand and lucky for him, (Y/N) hadn’t noticed the blooming red blush on his face and their shadow hadn’t picked up on his own to hear the internal screaming of his heart. He was panicking. Did (Y/N) just call him Big Red!? Oh god- His dreams were coming true! Not exactly in the prettiest spot to confess his undying love for the young and pretty woman. He was about to open his mouth and saw the box of sodas that (Y/N) seemed to be inspecting and dejection just pricked his fluttery heart and with a loud sigh, all those happy feelings turned down and he just seemed to pull (Y/N) for a hug, whispering down into their ear.

“I know another big red that you might enjoy. Must tastier that American soda and made in Japan.” He seemed to just grumble into their ear. The vibrations of his groveled voice made (Y/N) shudder as her shadow connected to his for a brief second.

Love, Compassion and… Lust-

“We should get going. I’m sure you have everything you need.” Kirishima whispered out softly into (Y/N)’s ear who only blushed darker and nodded slowly.

“My room or yours?”

“I don’t care. I’ll take you here if I need to.”

“Meet me tonight in my room at midnight, don’t be late Big Red~”

[infernobot]

TEETH?

Teeth?

By InfernoBot

I had just finished recording, and was carrying my dog in from the office, when my mom handed me an envelope. Once I had my sweet pupper nestled into a blanket, I joined her on the couch and slit open my mysterious delivery. Inside was no note, just a brochure to something called ‘Furnal Equinox’ and an accompanying plastic badge bearing the image of a anthropomorphic dog, (maybe it was a wolf), wearing a graduation cap and gown.

As my eyes scanned the glossy pages, my excitement grew; some lovely person had sent me a weekend pass to a furry convention! This was my big chance to make a video detailing my adventures through a mass gathering of one of the internet’s most maligned and misunderstood subcultures. Over the coming weeks, I studied the brochure, read up on the panelists online, noted every question about the furry fandom that popped into my head. My itinerary for the whole weekend was mapped out. 

Super chats and KoFi tips managed to cover the cost of a bottom-barrel airline ticket, and I got a great deal on an Air B&B from a charming indiginous woman named Semide, whose sisters had enrolled in college and left their rooms vacant. She was even kind enough to include meals as part of the deal. The weekend of the con finally rolled around; I threw my things in a bag and I was off to Toronto.

Eighteen hours and three layovers later, I was sitting at my host’s kitchen table with a warm towel draped over the back of my neck, sipping a cup of coffee. It turned out Semide was a naturopathic healer and knew some kickin’ remedies for aches, pains and jet lag. I don’t put much stock in essential oils, but damn if I didn’t wake up feeling fresh and ready to face the day the next morning. The convention was being held on the waterfront about nine blocks from Semide’s place, not too bad for a walk, and I reckoned I could make the trek each day. 

I left late in the morning, well after the con had opened. No sense waiting in line, I figured. It was three blocks from the Westin Harbor Castle, when I saw the first fursuit. 

There was no explaining the rush of exhilaration I felt. This was real. This was happening. I was gradually being surrounded by dozens of people decked out in bright, elaborate costumes. Some that couldn’t afford full suits wore just heads and gloves, giving a ghoulish Frankenstein’s monster appearance to their character. Or the wolf-man caught mid transformation after being bitten by a neon fox in a rainbow pride shirt. The less daring, or particularly destitute, settled for headbands with animal ears and strap-on tails. 

Waiting to cross the last street, I was elbow to elbow with a giant Sonic the Hedgehog and a seven-foot tall purple giraffe sporting a quadruple-XL adult diaper. Something told me before the weekend was over, that particular garment would get filled. Before I could contemplate the logistics further, the light changed and the extremely polite, if curiously dressed herd moved into the street and we sorted into a semblance of a line being steadily processed through the doors into the main convention hall. I was in.

The lead-up to the main event hadn’t prepared me for what lay inside. A teenage girl in a ‘volunteer’ shirt thrust an opaque plastic bag into my hands before Big The Cat shoved me aside and began professing his undying love for her beauty. I stumbled into the row of booths on the main floor, further progress blocked by an electric green armadillo strumming an acoustic guitar with a stuffed fish tucked in the strings. 

This was it, I weaved my way between con-goers and took it all in. Clip-on LED cat ears. A custom-fit fang booth. Stacks of comics focused on humanoid animals. Racks upon racks of faux-leather collars and leashes. The waifu pillows. I pulled my phone from my pocket and approached the nearest open booth.

Time for an interview, I thought.

Eight hours, two energy drinks and a box of granola bars later, I was dead on my feet. There was no way of knowing how many people I’d talked to as the day progressed. Or just how strange my conversations had become. I think I spoke at length with Cool Cat about the merits of various vape pens, despite the fact I don’t smoke. But it hadn’t all been nonsense. 

Before I had degenerated into a gibbering wreck, I had chanced to be standing beside a fountain near the food court and heard a familiar warbling voice behind me. To my great delight, when I turned around I found a young woman with jet black hair, a hawaiian shirt and a black & yellow long-Furby draped over her shoulders; I instantly recognized her as Teya from Strange Aeons. After she’d finished speaking to her friend, I politely tapped her on the arm and introduced myself. She turned out to be super cool, excited to meet another youtube creator, and talked to me for about ten minutes as her girlfriend went off to wait in line for the bathroom. 

While most of our conversation centered around videos and our special boy Greg, my eyes kept getting drawn back to Thursday Plurbonym Boyporridge. His black and yellow checkered belly, his luxurious black fur, those piercing green eyes; it was all so captivating. I couldn’t quit looking at the charm necklace below his little yellow beak spelling out his name; Thursday. Eventually, I complimented her on her videos and her handsome long-son one last time and we parted ways. It had been a pleasant break, but even here, the persistent strains of Insane Clown Posse that permeated the space were grating on my nerves. 

When the time had come for all the furry folk to close up shop and head home, I staggered out into the street with all the lingering con-goers. Despite the initial culture shock, most of the people I’d met had been great. I could stand here, elbow to elbow with ponies, foxskies, giant pomeranians and adorable cat girl maids on the steps of Westin Harbor Castle, and just enjoy the last moments of the sun setting over Toronto. That is until the moment was shattered by an obnoxious voice that sounded more like it belonged outside a Patriots game accompanied by the echo of shattering beer bottles. 

“Now that the party’s over, we can get down to the afterparty at my place; which of you bitches wants to come home with me?”

My head swiveled like a tank turret toward the source of the voice, my face bearing the expression which must have read did this motherfucker just?

A man-child wearing a My Little Pony t-shirt that had been stretched over his prodigious girth, a pair of denim jorts hanging past his knees and sweat-stained socks encased in mandles, slid his oily bulk up behind a group of teenage girls dressed as some kind of anime cat maids. He leaned his acne-studded face in close to them and said, “Since you’re dressed as maids, how about I take you home and make you change my cumm-y bedsheets after a night of passionate love-making.” 

The overly-polite locals may have been in shock, but I knew a neckbeard when I saw one and knew immediately what to do.

“How ‘bout you back the fuck off bro, they’re kids.”

Maybe he wasn’t expecting resistance, but he seemed genuinely taken aback by someone speaking up. Once he got a look at me, he re-adjusted his fedora and stared me down. I admit, I might not look terribly intimidating; bulky, but not muscular, with my hair dyed bright teal and swept to one side. At least I had on a Pink Floyd t-shirt, that felt a little like a layer of protection against his fed-aura. He drew in a snot-choked breath and continued,

“They’re dressed as the maids from Painappuru No Oshiri, they’re harem girls that’re totally thirsty for the main character. Each maid is eager to bend over and present their ripe ruby star-fruit to their master. They’re, like, practically advertising how much they want it in the ass.”

“Why don’t you leave them alone, fuckmuppet?” I retorted. “You look like you're forty and they’re a bunch of teen girls.”

He was not pleased with my argument. The group of cat-maidens had shaken off their surprise and closed ranks. But they weren’t ready when he lunged forward and grabbed at the petticoat of the red cat-maid on the outside, lifting her skirts up to expose the shorts underneath.

“It’s not even a chick, it’s a dude. Chill out.”

A glance at the cosplayer’s face revealed a mask of burning red embarrassment, fear and confusion. Their friends were moving to grab at the neckbeard’s hand, but I was quicker. I swatted his arm like I was chopping down the internet itself and pushed right up in his face. Practically nose-to-nose, I couldn’t avoid the stench of fermented funyuns rolling off his breath.

“Keep. Your. Fucking. Hands. Off of them.”

His chins quivered slightly. 

“Oh, you wanna start something, Rainbow Brite? I bet you like it in the ass, prancy-boy.”

“For a supposedly straight guy, you sure are obsessed with getting your dick in a guy’s butt.”

The flab of his cheeks reddened to match his acne.

“You’re gonna regret that. I’m a man with a very particular set of skills…”

I cut him off; I didn’t have the patience for a real-life copy pasta.

“Is one of your skills getting punched by me? Cause if you keep talking, you’re going to be teaching a master class.”

I could feel that neckbeardy-bravado wavering. Perhaps he could sense the crowd around us had turned against him, moving to shield the cat-maids and staring daggers into his lumpy flesh. With one last snotty huff, he turned and stormed away; the sound of his mandles slapping on the concrete echoed off the face of the convention center. 

A group of several of the more adulty-er people had ringed the victims and were doing their best to calm them down. I shuffled over and started to apologize for the beardo’s behavior, when the red cat-maid began thanking me profusely and asked for a hug. Apparently, this was not the first time their group had been approached at the convention. We stood around chatting for a while, and they promised to check Evangelion when they got home. Once the cat-maids were safely in their Lyft, I waved them goodbye and turned to make my journey home for the night.

I started back up the street I'd taken this morning, but as I approached the doorway to a grimey building, I became aware of a fully-suited Yogi Bear propositioning a man dressed like Linda-Carter-era Wonder Woman. I was pretty wiped out and didn’t have it in me to process an altercation like this if they noticed me and instead took an abrupt right turn down an alley, intending to zig-zag back to my Air B&B. 

I was nearly out the other side when my ears picked up the slapping of mandles on pavement rushing up behind me. A searing pain burst into existence in my lower back, like someone put a cigarette out on my spine. 

I went down, hard. 

The mylar swag bag I’d been swinging around all day splashed into a puddle off to one side. I was barely able to heave myself over onto my back to get a look at my attacker. It was him. The Neckbeard. He stood over me, grinning, his yellowed teeth visible in the night. The little black box in his hand flickered with a blue spark as he triggered the taser again.

“Heh heh. You like that, princess? I aimed a little high so I wouldn’t damage your sweet ass.”

“Fuck….you….” I gasped out through the pain. My muscles were cramping like someone had dug a burning fork into my lower back and twisted it up like a plate of spaghetti. 

“Heh. You’re the one taking it in the ass, rainbow bitch.” He stepped over me, squatting like a linebacker, bringing the taser close to my face. “Maybe I’ll push this in your eyeball and see if I can make it boil.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of movement between his legs. Something thin and dark darted up from the shadows, toward his exposed back. He let out a cry of surprise, and shot upright, swinging his arms wildly behind him, grabbing at something. He hopped wildly from foot-to-foot across the alley, the tail hanging from the back of his pants swaying wildly with the movement. I thought it was weird I hadn’t noticed the tail before, especially with how long it was, practically sweeping the ground. The fuzzy black appendage was moving...wrong. It kept curling up and twisting out of his hands as he grasped at it, almost as if it were...alive. 

“Oh Goddamnit!” He screamed. “What the fuck, dude?!” 

He dropped the taser and got a grip on the tail with both hands, tugging on it. A ripping sound echoed through the alley as the seat of his pants tore out. The thing was, the tail wasn’t attached to his pants, it was going in through his pants, nestled between his prodigious posterior cheeks like one of those fetish plugs. As he violently jerked it side-to-side, it was ripping at the fabric of his trousers, the same went for his less-than-tidey whiteys. 

“Get this fucking thing off of me!” He howled. 

He grunted as the tail slipped his fingers and wriggled another foot inside him. Tears were welling up in his eyes and he collapsed back against a green dumpster. Like a man who had gambled on a street taco truck and lost, he bit his knuckle and gripped his abdomen through his stained t-shirt. It might have been a trick of the light, but I swear I could see his belly distend and squirm; the words ‘Friendship Is Magic’ bulging as something rolled under them. 

His mandles dug into the alley grime as he feebly kicked his legs, and I could only watch in disgust as the rest of the fuzzy, black, thing slithered up inside him, forcibly dilating his leather cheerio. It was incredible. I could actually see its progress as it wormed its way through his body. He blubbered something about God and Jesus as his hand clawed frantically at his own belly, before his voice abruptly went silent. 

There was a long, drawn-out wheezing sound, like one of those novelty rubber chickens, as the bulk of the thing moved up his throat. I don’t know how his flesh distended and deformed without bursting, but it reached his mouth and his jaw opened wide. First one small black, fuzzy ear lined with black and yellow plaid popped up, then another, followed by the crown of this thing’s head, pushing his teeth outward like flower petals blooming. 

It rose before me, straight up from his mouth, its black and yellow belly slick, but not stained by his juices. His dislodged teeth clung to its matted fur like an obscene necklace. It swayed slightly in the moonlight, a pair of luminous green eyes fixed on mine, and its beak opened. With the rising inflection of someone asking a question, it uttered one word: 

Teeth?