#this is probably going to gather dust in some corner of tumblr but i love this man ;_;

[russell-crowe]

jim croce performing operator (that's not the way it feels)

[mummybear]

Cursed To Distraction

This Is Day 25 Of Roleplay May

Words: 5183

Warnings: Smut, Impala Sex, Swearing, Teasing, Sex Curses, Oral Male And Female Receiving, Filthy Dirty Talk ;), Size Kink, Dry Humping, Rough Sex. Think That’s It.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader, (OC’s) Molly and Ash.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When a bartender hits on you in what you think is attempt to make Dean jealous, what happens when not everything is quite as it seems?

A/N: So, this ran over way longer than it was supposed to but I’m really proud of myself for getting as much posted as I did! So sorry this is late again and thank you so much to everyone who has helped me and who has continued to read these smutty little works of mine, it really does mean so much to me :) I will be posting the roleplay May masterlist later today, and I will pin it to my tumblr main page for a time, for anyone who is interested! Once again thank you to Bee for betaing for me again :) @negans-lucille-tblr​ I honestly dunno what I would’ve done without you the last few months :) and a big thank you to @deanwanddamons​ and @dylanholyhellobrien​ as well as everyone who read any and all of the fics!

Another successful hunt had brought Sam, Dean and you to one of the local town's bars. You were surprisingly less disgusted by this one, especially compared with a lot of the others which you’d been in lately, this bar was practically paradise. The three of you sitting in a corner booth, hidden away from the rest of the bar a little and you were steadily getting tipsy. Which was actually kind of unusual for you with it being this early on, in fact, you weren’t sure that you’d even drank that much.

You lean across the table and gather the beer bottles, making your way to the bar since it’s your round. The trouble is, the more you drink the harder it is for you to hide your feelings for one Winchester in particular. Walking over to the bar you look up, meeting the bartender's eyes and she smiles at you, a smile that’s a little more seductive than you’d been expecting and you certainly hadn’t been expecting the wink she throws you. She's actually kinda hot, you're surprised that Dean hasn’t hit on her yet.

Looking back at the table for some kind of indication you weren’t seeing things, you quickly find that the brothers are deep in conversation. You hand her back the beers with a gentle smile and go to order another three. She has them in front of you before you even get the words out. You thank her and pay for them but she gently takes hold of your arm before you can leave and hands you another drink.

“This one is on me, if you’ve got five minutes?” She asks curiously, licking her plump red lips as she leans forward on the bar.

You take the seat at the bar and take the offered drink, drinking down the shot in one gulp.

“I’m sure I can spare a few minutes,” you reply, licking the drop of whiskey from your lips.

“Good. So, what’s your name?” 

“Y/N, how about you?” you ask as she refills your shot glass from the bottle she’s keeping right in front of her.

Flicking her brown curly hair over her shoulder, her sparkling brown eyes meet yours and she smirks when you take yet another shot.

“You can call me Ash.” She tells you grabbing a beer of her own from under the bar and taking a long pull, wrapping her full lips around the opening of the beer bottle. Licking her lips before she speaks again, “I have a question for you, Y/N. How long have you had the hots for your friend over there?” Ash asks nodding over to where Sam and Dean are sitting. 

“What are you talking about?” You half laugh,but the blush you can feel rising in your cheeks is a dead give away if your voice hadn’t been enough.

“Oh sweetie, of course you do. You can tell me, it’s kinda what us bartenders do. He definitely likes you too, take my word for it.” She assures you, nodding over at the table as her fingers brush your arm.

You turn to look at the table surprised to see Dean watching you intently while Sam seemingly talks to himself. “You think so?” You ask curiously, turning back to her, finding her smiling wide again.

“Trust me. Now, do you want me to help?” She asks, leaning forward so she’s an inch away from your face. “Or  if he’s too chicken shit to do something about it, there’s always me.” She smirks, taking another swig of her beer. 

“Sure, what’ve you got?”

“He’ll either really fucking love this or he’s gonna really hate it. Either way, win win for you.” She grins, leaning in and pressing her soft lips against yours. You lean over the bar a little further when she cups your cheek and you feel something strange and warm in your stomach but you ignore it.

Ash pulls back from your lips and drags her teeth over her full bottom lip. 

“Are you always this nice to strangers?” you giggle, when she wipes her lipstick from your lips.

“Hmm, only the cute ones,” she winks, making you blush all over again. “Now, give it a go, tell him what you want. You never know, he may want it too,” she suggests, pushing the beer bottles towards you. You look between her and the table where the boys are staring at you with open mouths and there’s a pretty girl sitting beside Sam who just looks a little like she’s impressed.

Confidence swims through your veins as you swipe the beers from the bartop and walk back to your table with an extra swing in your hips. What you don’t see is the way that Ash smiles as you walk away or her hiding the bottle she’d been pouring your shots from with a purple glint in her eyes.

“What the hell was that, Y/N?” Dean asks with a grin when you slide Sam’s bottle to him across the table. You smile at the girl that he has his arm around and she returns it confidently.

Ignoring Dean’s question, you slide into the booth beside him, feeling the warm feeling return to your belly when his knee nudges against yours. 

“Who’s your friend, Sam?” You ask with a knowing smile. The girl grins back at you and leans over to shake your hand before Sam can speak.

“Hey there Y/N, I’m Molly.” She smiles sweetly. She seems nice and really cute but you can clearly tell she’s not someone to be messed with. Your suspicions are confirmed when Sam tells you she’s another hunter and she’s actually on a hunt right now. Basically, she’s the exact kind of girl you would hope for Sam to find. 

You’re trying to ignore the sudden need to straddle Dean and kiss him as you listen to Sam and Molly tell you about the case. But since his knee had brushed yours you can’t wash the thoughts from your head. You’re starting to get the feeling that something is wrong, because that feeling is back in your stomach and your hands are shaking. You glance over at the bar, quickly noticing that Ash is missing but you can’t seem to form the words. 

“Sweetheart?” Dean asks gently, shaking your shoulder but his skin against yours almost makes you whimper, you have to bite into your lip to stop the noise from escaping when you look at him. Those plump pink lips of his wrapped around his bottle as he finishes it off, you do the same to try and get rid of the dry feeling in your throat.

But you quickly realise that the warm feeling you’d had in your stomach has moved. Now you find yourself fidgeting in your seat, it’s like you’re unable to ignore the way that Dean makes you feel. All you can think about is how good he looks, licking your lips as you look over at him and for once you allow yourself to really look at him. Noticing just how many freckles dust his face, the curve of his lips as he listens to his brother talk with a slight smile. The crinkles beside his perfectly green eyes and you certainly don’t miss the clench of his jaw when you press yourself closer to him, even if it’s subconscious at first. The second time you do it, you do it completely on purpose.

Sam and Molly are in deep conversation when you finally fully turn to Dean with a smile, leaning into him you press your lips to his ear as one of your hands rests on his thigh beneath the table and you feel him stiffen beneath your touch. You feel Dean shiver when the tip of your tongue flicks at his earlobe.

“Fuck, you smell good,” you groan quietly. Your free hand moving over his chest as you press yourself closer, hooking one of your legs over his knees. “And you’re so big and strong, I bet you could throw me around our motel room so easily couldn’t you, Dean?” You breathe out against his ear as your hand slides up higher, feeling him jump where he sits when your hand brushes over his half hard length and gently squeezes.

Neither of you even notice Sam and Molly slipping out of the booth.

“Fuck,sweetheart. What the hell has gotten into you?” Dean asks his voice deeper than usual, trying to hide his moan when you grab one of his hands and slip it just beneath your t-shirt. You feel his fingers grip your hip, clearly forcing his hand not to move any further.

“I dunno what you’re talking about, gorgeous. I just finally decided to let you know just how fucking hot you are, that’s all. I’m sure you already know but I would really love to show you.” You giggle hearing him groan your name. It sounds like he’s trying to warn you but if that’s the case, then he’s failing miserably. 

“So, did you enjoy the show earlier? I Couldn’t help but notice you were almost falling off of your chair just to get a good look.” 

You quickly shift your body and climb into his lap, straddling his hips and your eyes stay locked on one another. His free hand moves to grip your other hip, stopping you from rolling your hips down into him. 

“It was hot, sue me. And as much as I know I’ll regret saying this later, this right here, this is not you,” Dean states firmly, fixing you with a look that makes you shiver when it probably shouldn’t.

Reaching behind you,you smile at Dean seductively as you grab your beer and take a long swig, enjoying the way his eyes move between your lips and your throat. Once it’s empty you place it back on the table and lick the few drops from your lips. 

“Y/N, look at me,” he says quietly, which of course you already are.

Ash looks from her spot at the bar, cussing him under her breath when she notices Dean looking for something she doesn’t want him to find. But she’s quick with an idea and makes her way over to the couple.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Ash purrs seductively, looking down at you in Dean’s lap and she leans forward and roughly presses her red lips to yours, causing your hands to dig into Dean’s shoulders and you certainly don’t miss the way that his hands tighten on your hips.

“Hey, you,” you wink when she pulls back. “This is Dean,” you inform her, running one of your hands through his soft hair, feeling his head tilt back as he follows your touch.

She smiles at you and turns her attention to the older Winchester. 

“Well, aren’t you a lucky boy?” Ash grins, surprising Dean when she presses her lips against his, he doesn’t pull away and you giggle feeling his grip on you loosen on your hips. Dean pulls away quickly and turns to you, his teeth dragging over his bottom lip before his mind seems to be made up. You don’t have time to question the flash of purple that sparks in his green eyes because his lips quickly press against yours. 

You smile against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing yourself closely against him. Dean’s tongue flicks out against your bottom lip as his hands move behind you to grip your ass tightly. 

“You wanna get outta here?” Dean grunts against your parted lips when you roll your hips down into the line of his now fully hard cock. 

“You sure? You sure changed your tune.” You tease, feeling the grip he has on your ass tighten.

Dean pauses for a moment, letting his eyes flick between your eyes and lips before he shakes his head.

“Well, whatever was stopping me before I can’t remember.” He chuckles, leaning in closer once again so his lips are brushing yours when he speaks and his eyes stay locked on yours.

“All I can think about right now is burying myself between your thighs, see if you’re as small and tight as you look like you’re gonna be. Haven’t stopped wonderin’ about how sweet that pussy tastes,” He rasps quietly, the green in his eyes darkening before you as he licks those plump lips, pink from all the biting he’d inflicted on them.

You knew Dean liked to dirty talk, you’d heard it through the thin motel walls but when it was directed towards you it was on a new level of sexy.

“You got the keys?” You moan out as he starts kissing down your neck, dragging his teeth along a particularly sensitive patch of skin.

You cling to him harder feeling his hot breath against your skin, “yeah, course I do.” He smirks pulling back from your neck, keys dangling from his forefinger. 

“Of course you do, silly me.” You smile back, climbing out of his lap and curling your finger at him, “come get it Winchester.” 

Flicking your hair over your shoulder you make your way out of the bar, with more of a swing in your hips than usual, fully aware that Dean is hot on your heels. 

You shiver when the cool air hits your skin, it’s colder outside than it has been in weeks. You can feel Dean’s eyes on you as you walk, coming to a stop at the side of the impala you feel Dean pressing up against your back. Pushing your hair over one shoulder as he presses you into the car, so that you’re able to feel his hardness against your ass. 

“Would you let me fuck you right here?” He asks knowingly, breath ghosting over your ear and his fingers slip beneath your t-shirt, running along the soft skin of your stomach. You swallow hard, failing to hide the needy whimper of his name that slips past your lips. “Of course you would, right here, right up against my baby.” There’s a pause and you feel his hand by your hip as he slips the key into the lock.

“Maybe next time, hmmm?” He chuckles backing away as he pops the door open.

The throbbing between your thighs is almost painful and when he pulls away you suck in a deep breath when the burning in your stomach returns. You still have no idea what it is, but you can’t find it in you to think about it too much. And judging by the pained grunt from the other side of the car Dean’s felt whatever it is too.

“See, the teasing isn’t so funny now is it?” 

You slip into the front seat beside Dean, your doors closing almost at the same time. Pressing yourself against him your hand starts slowly moving higher up his thigh and you see him smirk as he starts the engine. 

“Fuck sweetheart, what’re you up to?” He groans as you unbuckle his belt and pop the button of his jeans. You bite your bottom lip watching his zip slide down when his cock jumps in the suddenly not so tight confines.

Dean lifts his hips as you tug on his jeans and boxers enough to free his perfect long thick cock. You’re almost drooling at the thought of having him in your mouth, finally. No surprise it’s one of the best looking cocks you’ve ever seen, the swollen head already leaking with pre-cum.

“How about you keep your eyes on the road, Winchester, let me worry about looking after you,” you practically purr, leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

He groans deep in his chest watching you stretch out across the bench seat, back arched, with your head down and ass up as he pulls out of the parking lot. Wrapping your small hand around the thickness of his cock, the tips of your fingers just barely touching the tip of your thumb. 

You look up at him through your lashes as you lean in closer, swirling the tip of your tongue around the swollen head of his cock, moving over the very tip and moaning as the taste of his pre-cum hits your tongue. Dean’s free hand moves to the back of your head, fingers winding into your hair as he glances down at you. 

“Come on baby girl, open up,” he smirks, licking those plump lips that you dream about.

Dean sucks in a breath as you do as you're told and his fingers tighten in your hair. You hollow your cheeks as you suck at the head of his cock, which feels even thicker than it looks and tastes so good. 

He shifts in his seat, spreading his legs open a little further when you finally take more of his thick length into your mouth. The heat in your stomach starts to ebb away and you let out a relieved sigh, breathing a little slower through your nose as your tongue presses against the thick vein that runs along the entire length.

Your lips stretch wide when he presses against the back of your head, a loud growl leaving his lips when your hand cups his balls and his hips jolt up off of the seat. Pushing the thick head of his cock into the back of your throat, making you cough around the moan as the drool leaks from the sides of your lips. Your free hand moves to his thigh, nails digging in as you grip tightly.

“Fuck, look at you. Takin’ that cock so good, sweetheart. Such a pretty little mouth,” Dean rasps as the car swerves around a corner. 

You start to bob your head over him, swallowing around his cock when it hits the back of your throat again. You can hear Dean’s breathing increase as your movements do. His fingers tighten further in your hair and he roughly pulls your head up, you gasp for air when his cock falls from your lips. 

In fact, you hadn’t even realised that the car had stopped until both of his big hands cup your cheeks and he pulls you into a demanding kiss. Your hands move to his shoulders, slipping beneath his jacket and helping him pull it free of his arms.

While Dean’s hands move to your hips, unbuttoning your jeans, hooking his thumbs into the sides of them and panties. He pulls away from your lips when you sit up on your knees and roughly pulls them down your legs. You sit back on your ass laughing a little as you stumble. Dean just smirks at you as he pulls them free of your legs and tosses them behind him. 

“Wanna take this to the back seat, handsome?” You grin watching his eyes rake over your body. You wiggle out from under him and climb into the back seat.

You lay out on the back seat and pull off your shirt and bra, feeling his eyes on you the entire time. He licks his lips as he finishes undressing himself. 

“Looks like Sammy’s gettin’ lucky himself. Probably a good idea we kept this in baby, huh?” He smirks pulling his black shirt over his head. You shift a little, letting your feet rest on the soft leather so that Dean can climb into the back with you.

“C’mon, scoot back and spread those legs for me,baby.” 

You do as he says, the light from the motel and the moonlight shining through the impalas window, so that you can see that little boyish twinkle in his eyes when he presses his lips to your inner thigh. He’s still smiling when his eyes meet yours again. 

“Somehow, this was always how imagined our first time was gonna go.” You tell him a little shyly with a smile.

“Really? So you’ve thought about it then?” he chuckles kissing his way closer and closer to where you want him the most. 

You can’t help but smile at the look on his face, your fingers pushing into his hair when he moves lower, pulling your legs over his shoulders and his breath ghosts over your hot, wet pussy.

“Of course I have, you dork. You’re seriously annoying but you’re still my best friend. There’s always been that what if there, I’ve seen you looking,” you giggle when he wiggles his eyebrows at you and presses a kiss to your hip bone. His tongue sliding slowly across your skin until he reaches the other hip and he nips at the skin lightly. 

“Mmm, you have, have you? Well sweetheart, you can hardly blame me for lookin’.” 

The words are barely out of his mouth before his tongue moves through your slick, your back arches trying to press yourself closer to his mouth. He looks up at you from between your legs, slowly swirling the tip of his tongue around your extremely sensitive clit. Your whimper turns into a loud moan, feeling your pussy stretch around two of his thick fingers. 

“Dean, please.” 

The heels of your feet dig into the top of his back harder. The deeper his fingers push the more of him you want. 

“Fuck, that looks good,” Dean groans before sucking your clit between his lips. 

You watch his eyes fall closed and his fingers start moving faster inside of you, his free hand presses against your stomach keeping you in place as he fucks you with his fingers, curling them in a come hither motion. You can feel the band inside your stomach ready to snap but it’s like your body can’t let it go, you can feel the bliss climbing higher and higher with every swirl of his tongue and every curl of his fingers.

The wet sound of his fingers moving inside you starts to fill the car and Dean pulls his face up to watch you fall apart.

“God Dean, please! I need it,” you beg him desperately, rolling your hips down into his hand.

“You’ll get it sweetheart, relax. I’ve got you,” he assures you with that deep husky voice, that sends chills down your spine. You do as he says, taking a deep breath, allowing yourself to really feel everything. 

“Fuck, there you go baby girl. Let it go.”

You gasp loudly, feeling your orgasm hit you as if from nowhere. Your fingers grip tight in his ridiculously soft hair as your other hand clings to the back of the bench seat. The orgasm rolls through your body like fire licking at your skin. His fingers continue to work you through it, prolonging your orgasm that much further until you're panting for breath and gently pushing on his head. The sensitivity is a little too much, even more so when the vibrations of his chuckle moves through you.

He pulls back with a smug grin on his face when your body slumps against the seat.

“Jesus Christ, if you’re that good with your hands and your mouth-” 

He cuts you off pressing his lips to yours, “stop it, you’re gonna give me an even bigger head.” Dean smirks wiggling his eyebrows at you, making you laugh all over again.

“Have I mentioned that you’re a massive dork, Dean Winchester?” you smile up at him as he moves between your legs.

“Oh baby, when you stop lovin’ it, you just go ahead and let me know.” 

“So fucking cocky,” you groan as he presses his lips to your jaw and the head of his cock nudges against your soaked pussy.

You wrap your arms around his neck as his lips press against your ear, “you’ll see. I’ve got every right to be, sweetheart.” His teeth drag along your earlobe as he starts to slowly push the head of his cock inside you. Your nails dig into his back as you cling to him. 

“Gotta go slow, don’t wanna split this tight little pussy in two. Want you to feel it, every fuckin’ inch.” 

“Such a dirty mouth on you, Dean!” You gasp when he lifts your leg and rests it over the back of the front bench seat. So that you're spread open for him, his fingers move over your clit slowly as he continues to push inside your wet heat. “So fucking deep, shit you’re so big!” You cry out, once his hips are flush with your own.

The clunk of your head falling back against the door is the only noise that isn’t one of you breathing heavily.

“Relax, sweetheart,” Dean murmurs, pressing kisses to your neck.

One of his hands cups the back of your head and he pulls you into another searing kiss, that momentarily distracts you from the sting of his thick cock stretching out your pussy. When he pulls back from your lips,you know you need more, “move Dean, please.”

“Thank fuck for that,” Dean grunts, slowly pulling out until only the head of his cock is pressing into you. The moonlight shines through the window as he pushes back into you slowly, both of you moaning loudly, sounding like a pair of porn stars but it feels so fucking good you can’t help it. He kisses you when he pulls almost all of the way out again and instead this time he snaps his hips forward. You can’t help but whimper into his mouth, pleasure mixing with pain so perfectly as your calf tightens on the front bench seat to keep you anchored, you feel Dean’s fingers move to grip your thigh on the same leg.

Your free leg pushes over his hip, your foot pressing into his ass harder as every thrust of his hips gets faster. The heat in your stomach has disappeared and all you can feel is the returning warmth of another orgasm building inside you. 

“Dean, talk to me please,” you whisper breathlessly against his lips, every thrust of his hips is hitting spots inside you that you didn’t realise existed before tonight. 

“Shit, sorry darlin’, you just feel so fuckin’ good.” He half laughs, which quickly turns into a moan when he sits up on his knees and pulls you closer, propping your other leg up on the top of the back seat. Somehow he’s even deeper like this, with you spread open wide for him. 

“Wanna come all over your big cock baby,” you pant biting into your lip as he grips your hips and lifts you a little and with every thrust he pulls you onto his cock. The slap of your ass against his thighs echoes around the car, along with your mixed moans and groans of pleasure.

“Yeah? Come on then. Wanna see how much better it feels when that tight little cunt grips my cock,” Dean grunts, every harsh thrust punching a gasp of air from your chest.

“Oh! Oh fuck!..... Dean!” You all but scream, feeling your pussy starting to clamp down around his length and your thighs starting to shake. 

“Give it to me Y/N! Come on baby!” Dean encourages you breathlessly, moaning praises until you finally fall over the edge with a scream of his name. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire as your muscles clench and tighten painfully.

When you finally start to come down you feel Dean wrap his arms around your back and pull you up so you’re sitting in his lap, with your legs wrapped around his back. His eyes meet yours when you lick your lips and quickly press them against his, feeling his groan before you hear it when you roll your hips over him.

“You’re somethin’ else,” Dean tells you, pressing his forehead against yours. His hands move to grip your ass as you start to rise and fall on his cock. “Fuck, yeah that’s it baby, just like that. Gonna fill you up.” Dean growls, helping you move, your open mouths pressed against one another. Neither of you are able to kiss, everything feels so damn good.

“Do it Dean, want your come,” you moan out into his mouth, feeling his hips stutter beneath you. You know he’s close, “can’t wait to get you back to the bunker, just imagine all the fun we’re gonna have.” 

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Dean groans through gritted teeth.

Your voice is just a breathy whisper at this point but you know he can hear you.

“Imagine how many tables you can bend me over, or how many beds we can mess up together. Maybe when we get in the motel you can fuck me in the shower, make me take it like a good little girl. Nobody's made me come like you do Dean, maybe I can show you just how good my mouth can be, take you so deep let you fuck my mouth….” The rest of your words die on your tongue when Dean slams his hips up into you roughly, before groaning your name and coming inside you hot and thick.

His mouth quickly covers yours as he twists you rolling onto his back so you’re on top as his chest rises and falls fast. You pull away from his lips with a satisfied smirk on your lips.

“Fuck Y/N, I thought I had a damn good dirty talkin’ game. And yes, all of that is happening.” 

You giggle and shake your head at him falling against his chest, letting his racing heart press against your ear.

However, before either of you can get too comfortable there’s a knock on the window. Dean dives for his gun but you catch his hand with a shake of your head.

“Dean calm down, since when do monsters knock?” you reason quietly.

Dean seems to accept your answer, letting the hand that’s now holding the gun relax. You don’t move to answer the door, you simply lean forward in the seat and pull on his black t-shirt just in case.

“Yeah, that looks so much better on you.” 

“Stop it!” You laugh gently slapping his hands away, rolling your eyes when they settle on your ass again.

“Y/N? Where’s Dean?” Comes the sound of Sam’s voice through the fogged up window.

Biting your lip you look down at the man trapped beneath you, big green eyes staring up at you as he smiles.

“Right here, Sammy!” Dean calls out, making you laugh when you hear Sam’s overreacted gagging noises from the other side of the glass.

“Do you want something? Or have you taken up dogging or some weird shit!”

“Oh ha ha, very funny. No, we want something, turns out the two of you were cursed by that Ash girl back at the bar. But don’t worry, Molly and I took care of it while you two were working it out.” Sam deadpans.

“Huh, who knew?” You giggle as Dean pulls you back down on top of him.

“Best damn curse I’ve ever been hit with,” Dean winks.

“Thank you, Sam!” You call out hearing a mumbled you’re welcome as Dean pulls you into another incredible mind scrambling kiss.

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[daisybeewrites]

You Made Me Soup??

word count: 2.5k

warnings: lots of fluff, daisy gets a cold, daniel takes care of her :)

requested? yes

ship: dousy/daniel sousa x daisy johnson

Soooo this is the first writing that i’m posting on tumblr, let me know how I did in the comments! I’m a sucker for Daisy fluff, lets hope you are too b/c this is very fluffy. I appreciate any feedback and I hope you enjoy!

p.s. drop a request in my inbox if you have a fic idea!

Daisy felt like crap. She just got back home from a long, long mission that seemed as if it had dragged on for weeks (it hadn’t). More importantly, she felt like she hadn’t seen Daniel for weeks (she had, in fact, seen him just six days ago). The night air was chilly as she trudged up the stairs to one of her safe-houses. She frequently crashed here after missions, so she wasn’t surprised when Daniel opened the door and bear hugged her. 

“Umph.” Daisy was sore, and her head hurt like a hangover made of bees, but Daniel’s soothing presence relaxed her. He lifted her chin and gave her a deep kiss on the lips. Sousa would love nothing more than to hold her like this for a couple hours minimum, he knew that Daisy needed time to decompress by herself after missions. He helped her inside and shut the door behind them. Daisy's stomach growled. She peered inside the fridge and settled for a tomato and cheese sandwich. Daisy sat at the kitchen island and munched tiredly. Daniel sat on the couch and silently studied her. Something, he thought, is off. 

“Sweetheart?” he called. 

“Yea?” she replied, around a mouthful of bread.

“Are you, uh, feeling okay?” The genuine concern in his voice caused Daisy to sit up some and look over herself. 

“Do I look that bad?” she wasn’t offended, just surprised. There were a couple tears in the legs and one on the side of her suit from the brambles she had had to run through, and she wore dirt all over her face from the dust that had kicked up after she quaked the enemy assailants back about fifty feet. She honestly didn’t think she looked that bad. A tiny frown appeared on her face before Daniel quickly shut down her train of thought. 

“No, no, you look amazing as always,” Daniel got up quickly and stepped across the dark wood paneled floor into the old tiles that covered the ground in the kitchen. “No, Dais, that isn’t what I’m saying.”

As he reached her, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and brushed her hair out of her face. Daniel had to admit, she looked very cute when she was tired. However, he was too worried about how out of it she looked that he couldn't fully appreciate her adorable state. 

“Then what? Do I have leaves in my hair or something? I could’ve sworn I got them all out!” she began to comb her hair out with her fingers. Daniel just grinned. When she was satisfied that there weren’t any leaves in her hair, she glanced back up at him. His hands were on his hips, and he was using his new prosthetic leg that Jemma and Fitz had designed for him. She returned his grin and hopped off the counter so that she could wrap her arms around his gorgeous shoulders. Suddenly, her vision swam with little black dots and she couldn’t quite get her balance. Daniel reached out to steady her with a little more than worry in his eyes this time. 

“Look at that,” Daisy grinned wider, “I’m actually falling for you.” Daniel let out a low sort of chuckle and sighed. “Daisy, I think you need some sleep.”

Daisy patted his chest and nodded. “Probably.” As she said it, she let out an involuntary yawn, “Okay, so definitely. I need sleep.” 

Daisy began to walk back to her bedroom. It was cozy, and the colors reminded her of her bunk on the zephyr. There was a large bed with an old, wooden nightstand to match in the corner, and a few bean bag chairs and a short floor desk so that she could work at night. The bed was covered in comfy quilts and a soft, lavender duvet. No one would have guessed that a superhero lived here except for the hexagonal panels lining the walls, ceiling, and floor. Simmons and Daisy agreed to install them after Daisy almost leveled the house during a nightmare. It had been Daniel who suggested painting them, so that she wouldn’t feel as enclosed, like a caged animal. Daisy had been all for protecting those around her, insisted on it even. That doesn’t mean she didn’t feel weird having her bedroom look like the containment module. So, with Daniel, Coulson, and May's help, she painted the walls a homey grey and covered the floor in colourful mix-matched rugs. She left the ceiling white. 

Daisy trudged over to her bed and slowly started taking her gear off, but got stuck with the zips and hidden ties. 

“Hey, uh, Sou-” she coughed, “I need some help!” Her voice was muffled by the fabric of her suit. Daniel came to lean on the door frame. He smirked at the sight before him. Daisy’s arms were twisted behind her trying to undo a zipper, but had gotten caught while trying to pull it down. Subsequently, the material she had already loosened in the front rose up to reveal her tan, toned stomach. He walked over slowly and put his hands on her waist. 

“Mmmhm, Danny-boy, if you want me to sleep you need to just help me out of this damn suit!” she heard a chuckle and a soft ‘okay’ in response. He reached around her and undid the zipper, freeing her hands of the black fabric. She pulled the top over her head and went to get a sleep shirt. 

Daniel stopped her. “I’ll get it. You just relax.” 

Daisy was too tired to argue. She undressed from the rest of the suit and took the over-sized, comfy clothes he gathered. She pecked his cheek before going to the bathroom to wash her face and put the clothes on. Daniel watched her walk into the bathroom, a bright pink blush on his cheeks when she turned around and noticed him staring. At least he didn't cover his eyes when she changed anymore.

Daisy closed the door and turned the lights on in the bathroom. This was the first time she was able to good look at herself after the mission. She really did look like hell. The scars on her stomach and legs were a tad irritated from wearing her tac gear for so long, and her eyes also looked red. She ignored it and made a mental note to use the healing ointment Jemma had packed in her duffel bag on the red, raised tissue. She leaned forward to get a better look at herself. Her nose itched. Daisy quickly forgot about it as she finished getting ready for bed and slipped into the shirt and shorts that Daniel had handed her. 

When she stepped out of the bathroom, Daniel wasn’t there, but she could hear him in the living room down the hall. She still felt horrible, but the warm, coffee-and-vanilla scent that was just Daniel lulled her into a deep sleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.

When Daisy woke up the next morning, she felt absolutely disgusting. She grumbled as she tried to sit up. Her head was pounding, the pressure centered right between her eyebrows. She noticed the bottle of water and pills sitting on her bedside table, and promptly took them. Her nose hurt now, and her body was achier than it had been last night. She could probably sleep for another hour. Instead, she forced herself onto wobbly legs to take a scalding hot shower. The steam felt good on her muscles, and cleared her senses enough that she could properly breathe. She dressed in a clean t-shirt that she recognized as one of Sousa's and a pair of grey sweatpants (also Sousa's, Daisy stole them). Daisy trekked down the hall towards the warm, inviting couch. 

Daniel felt more than heard Daisy arrive in the living room, but only turned around when he heard a large crash!

“Daisy! Are you okay? What happened?” Daisy was currently laying on the floor next to a fallen lamp. 

“Ow…” she . “I turned the corner and this lamp was here.” 

Daniel crutched over to her, then gracefully sat down beside her. “Sorry Dais, didn’t know the lamp was an enemy combatant.” 

She gave a tired laugh. “I should’ve looked. I don’t feel great right now. I was practically sleepwalking down the hall.” 

Daniel looked over Daisy. He noticed she was wearing his clothes, and tried not to show exactly how that affected him. Daisy snapped him out of his reverie with a small sneeze. Without missing a beat, he handed her his handkerchief. Daisy still thought it odd that he had one, but felt extremely glad he did. Daniel thought he heard a low mumble of ‘cute square’, but couldn’t be sure. Daisy was definitely cute, even when sick.

Daisy groaned as she clutched her head. Daniel swung himself up, and she noticed his leg was... not a leg. Daisy smiled. Knowing that he felt safe enough in her house to relax and not wear his prosthetic made a little bubble of warmth blossom in her chest. Daniel reached a hand down to help her up, and with expert balance, helped her up to her feet. He pressed the cool back of his hand to her forehead. Daisy leaned into the touch. 

“That feels good. Like, really good.” 

Daniel gave her a quizzical stare. “Has anyone ever taken care of you while you were sick?”

Daisy was incredulous. “I’m not sick!” 

Daniel replied with a raised eyebrow and took his hand away from her head. She leaned forward slightly, chasing his hand before stopping herself. It dawned on Daniel that she hadn’t had parents to take care of her when she was a kid, and there was no way she would have let the team nurse her if she came down with something. 

“C’mere,” Daniel led her over to the couch and handed her a thick blanket. She took it and tried to spread it over her legs. Daniel laughed a little as she failed miserably. Daisy pouted and sighed, frustrated. Daniel took the blanket and flourished it, then laid it gently over her. 

“Square,” she teased. An adorable square.

“Your square, though.” Daniel grabbed her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm, then her knuckles and wrist. Daisy didn’t want to admit how good it made her feel. Daniel got up as he directed her to stay there. “I’ll get some stuff to help.” 

Daisy dozed in and out while Sousa gathered what he needed. She could smell something delicious in the kitchen, and heard Sousa walking around. When he was finished, he woke Daisy up with a shake of her shoulder. He carefully helped her sit up. 

“Let’s go,” he stated, with a mischievous smile. 

“Go... where?” she questioned. The look in Sousa’s eye was making her slightly nervous. No, not nervous... just jittery with anticipation. Huh. Daniel started to walk away, checking over his shoulder to see if she was coming. She quickly shook her head and got up. She followed him down the hall to the bathroom, where a warm bath was waiting. 

“Honey?”

“Yes, dear?” Daniel was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, and staring at 

Daisy as if she was the only light in the universe. His gaze made her feel all mushy inside, and she pushed down the tears that almost welled up. Daisy told herself it was because she was sick (but we all know it wasn't). Daniel broke eye contact and pushed himself off the counter. 

“I’ll be in the kitchen," Daniel winked and gave her kiss on the cheek, then left Daisy standing dumbfounded next to the tub. "Holler if you need me.”

She touched where he kissed and promptly undressed. The bath felt like heaven. If only she could keep her eyes open... 

She was woken around fifteen minutes later by the smell of something she could only describe as mouthwatering coming from the kitchen. She toweled off and put on a t-shirt and the shorts she wore the night before. She tip-toed to the kitchen and wrapped her arms around Daniel. Daisy rested her head in between his shoulder blades. She lifted her head and he turned around to place his hands on her waist, slowly pulling her in.

“I don’t think this is safe next to a stove.” Daisy quipped. Daniel murmured something incoherent in her hair. She peered over his shoulder to see what he was cooking.

“Soup?” Daisy questioned, “You... made me soup?” Daniel suddenly seemed shy. He looked away, unsure if he was stepping too far, or if she even liked soup. Even groggy and sick, Daisy picked up on this. She threw her arms around him and whispered into his shoulder. “Thank you, Daniel. No one's ever done this kind of thing for me.” 

His face warmed at hearing her call him Daniel. It wasn't often that she did that, usually she stuck to a silly nickname or called him ‘Sousa’ out of habit. 

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” Daniel leaned in for a kiss, but Daisy quickly leaned away. Daniel sent her a confused, pouty, adorable glare. 

“I-I don’t want you to get sick,” she stuttered by way of explanation, “You should probably stay away until I’m feeling better.” In spite of her words, when Sousa slowly leaned in, she mirrored his movements. 

“So, you do admit you’re sick.” Daniel whispered with a triumphant smile. Daisy wanted to argue, but realized there was no way out of this. She pushed him away and shuffled over to the living room, flopping dramatically on the couch.

“Yes, fine! I’m sick.” Daisy closed her eyes to go back to sleep, then remembered the soup that Daniel was currently pouring into bowls, and sat up. He brought it over and carefully handed it to her. She tried a spoonful and burnt her tongue the first time. When she tried again, she looked up through her lashes at Daniel sitting beside her, intently waiting for her verdict.

“Oh my god, this is amazing!” she half-moaned with delight. “You need to cook more often.”

Daniel watched her eat the soup quietly, and took her bowl to the sink when she was finished. When he got back, Daisy had turned on the TV and was watching Singing in the Rain. He smiled at the familiar picture. They spent the next couple hours watching old movies and cuddling. Daisy had protested at first, but gave in when Daniel threatened to tell Jemma she was sick. Daisy happily drifted to sleep with her head on Daniel's chest and the rest of her wrapped around him like a koala. 

She woke up early the next morning, and somehow got up without waking Daniel. She padded over to the fridge to pour a cup of orange juice, swallowing a couple pills to help get rid of the last dregs of her cold. She felt really good. Better than good, actually. She felt warm and loved and she had a soft smile on her face as she watched Daniel snooze. 

Little did Daisy know, Daniel had absolutely caught her cold. Daisy also didn't know exactly how needy Daniel is when he’s sick. 

A/N: how are you feeling? warm, fuzzy? good. that was my evil plan all along. have a great day and don’t forget to drink water!

[bijvoorbeeldja]

HERE SHE IS

The full enemies-to-lovers, “You’ve Got Mail” Sobbe AU, sprinkled with a few little surprises ***

I was NOT playin around when I said I was going to write ALL the fics during this quarantine y’all ain’t ready

Hope you enjoy! <3 I’d love to know what you think (even if you hate it)

……

Robbe’s phone buzzed on his nightstand.

earthlingoddity: good morning

He smiled into the screen, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

sterkerdanijzer: already awake?

earthlingoddity: yep

earthlingoddity: had some early morning inspiration

sterkerdanijzer: r u gonna let me see what you drew this time?

earthlingoddity: nope

earthlingoddity: against the rules

Robbe sighed, shaking his head.

Rolling out of bed, he contemplated what to type in response. This back-and-forth had been going on for months now, always coming back to this: the rules.

Clearly, they could text all they wanted. But that was it: just text. No voices, no photos showing their faces, locations, or anything else personal. Like drawings, for example. Nothing personal.

But really, everything they had been doing, all they had been talking about, felt personal to Robbe.

Screw the rules, Robbe thought. Even just through texts, he’d gotten closer to this person than anyone else in his life. Their conversations often started at dawn and spread throughout the day, lingering into the night until one of them fell asleep.

Of course, he’d agreed to the rules at the beginning. Hell, he’d made them. It was just talking, nothing else. But the more they talked, the more he wanted.

….

In a weird turn of events, Robbe had met Earthling in the comments of an Antwerp street art Tumblr, where teenagers flocked to share and comment on their latest masterpieces. Masked by alias handles, no one involved in the group knew the identities of the others. When they met up to tag at a location, everyone wore masks, hoodies, and dark clothes. Then they rehashed their work online, sharing photos and comments before planning their next meetup.

Robbe, using his disguised handle, had commented on a photo, when a stranger named earthlingoddity had commented back. Robbe had laughed and responded. The two passed banter back and forth before finally moving to DMs.

earthlingoddity: so you’re an artist, then the stranger had written him.

sterkerdanijzer: no, definitely not

sterkerdanijzer: I’m just in it for the vandalism

earthlingoddity: Hahahaha fair enough

earthlingoddity: u live in antwerp tho right?

sterkerdanijzer: pretty sure we’re not supposed to share details, STRANGER

earthlingoddity: ;-)

earthlingoddity: youre right. but i mean, we are talking now. and we’ve probably already seen each other

sterkerdanijzer: yeah maybe

earthlingoddity: I probably would have recognized a vandal tho…

sterkerdanijzer: not a chance. you’re probably one of those uppity art hoes who makes his masterpiece and doesn’t even acknowledge the little people

earthlingoddity: so you’re short then

sterkerdanijzer: enough! no personal details

Earthlingoddity: ok, so no names, no locations, no personal details. Any other rules?

sterkerdanijzer: uhm

sterkerdanijzer: no phone calls. And NO pics of your artwork. I might recognize it 

Earthlingoddity: so definitely no dick pics, then

Robbe had nearly choked at this. Even though their chatting had started as nearly nothing, it had rapidly become...something.  At least for Robbe. The past few weeks, their conversations had grown from occasional back-and-forths to constant communication, nearly-endless banter, and then...not-so-subtle flirting. Whatever was going on with this stranger, Robbe couldn’t bear to lose it. 

…..

Once he was finally ready for school that day, Robbe grabbed his skateboard and headed out to the street. Before mounting his board on the sidewalk, he opened his last chat with Earthling, trying to muster the courage to send him the message he’d been wanting to for days.

sterkerdanijzer: what if we said screw the rules….and met up? Like IRL?

Robbe’s fingers hovered over the keys, trying to gather the courage to hit send. It was stupid, he knew, but he was so terrified of scaring this stranger away. For reasons he didn’t fully understand yet, he needed him. Assuming it was, in fact, a him. I guess it was bold of him to assume Earthling was a boy. And gay. He took a breath and kicked off, starting to roll down the street. 

Then, out of nowhere, he was crashing, thrust back off his board and onto the ground as he collided with something. Or better, someone. 

Ugh, he groaned. Slowly rising up, he grabbed his phone and bag, which had been expelled violently from the impact. 

“What the hell, Robin?” the boy said, picking himself back up off the sidewalk where he’d fallen. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?! Do you even know how to ride that thing?”

Brushing the dirt off his hands, he looked up, already feeling stiff aches form in his joints from the fall. Looking up, he groaned again.

Of course, it was Sander Driesen. He should have known immediately. No one else had the nerve to call him Robin.

Robbe rolled his eyes. “Maybe you shouldn’t be meandering in the middle of the sidewalk,” he threw back. “Pick a side and stay out of the way of people who actually need to get somewhere.”

Sander scoffed, dusting himself off and grabbing his bag, rearranging the now-disorderly contents inside. “Right, I forgot. You’ll be late for class,” he said, the words dripping with disdain. “Ahh, to be young and only concerned with high school drama.” 

Oh, how Robbe hated Sander Driesen. 

Clad head-to-toe in black, with a noisy leather jacket, combat boots and a shock of (badly) bleached-blonde hair, he was a walking cliche. 

The two had grown up together, coexisting side by side in school and social circles. But the two could not be more different. Because of this, their relationship didn’t amount to much more than swapped insults in passing, tense confrontations, and merciless teasing. Now that Sander had graduated high school, their interactions were fewer. But for Robbe, that was still too often. 

“So tell me, O Wise One,” Robbe  shot back. “If you’re so above all of us children, why are you still dating Britt? She’s not too ‘high school drama’ for you?”

Sander grimaced. “I’m not with Britt,” he said, almost clenching his teeth.

“Right, whatever,” Robbe said, ready for this encounter to be way past over. “I don’t give a damn about your personal life. In fact, I don’t give a damn about anything involving you. I have to go.”

He turned to leave, realizing he skateboard was still on the ground, rolled out of his reach, an end tucked under the heel of Sander’s boot. He smirked at Robbe. 

“Oh, right. Your toy.” Sander rolled it back to Robbe, staring him down with an obnoxious smile. “See you around...Robin.”

Robbe grabbed his board and walked off in a huff, flipping Sander off as he passed. “Screw you, Sander.”

Rounding the corner, he stopped to steady his breathing. Why must his day be tainted with the influence of that fake blonde, edgy wannabe pyscho? Inhaling deep and taking advantage of his high tide of emotions, he pulled out his phone again, returning to his chat with Earthling. Do it, he told himself. Do it before you lose your nerve. Typing fast, he wrote:

Sterkerdanijzer: what if we said screw the rules….and met up? Like IRL?

He hit Send, waiting breathlessly.

Within seconds, three dots appeared. Earthling was typing.

……

The music was blaring, thumping against Robbe’s heartbeat. The crowd at the party was so thick that he was pressed up against Jens and Aaron, their combined heat making him slightly nauseous. 

But all he could focus on was the neon glow of the screen in front of him, and in his mind running over and over the words Earthling had texted him hours earlier: Earthlingoddity: probably not a good idea.

Robbe had stared at it again and again, feeling that same nosedive in his stomach as he had when he first got it that morning on the street. He didn’t want to meet Robbe. So all of it had been...nothing after all. Deep down he’d known that. It was just talking. But it still felt like rejection. How could he so intensely have misread their connection? Even virtually, Robbe had felt the magnitude of it. Or so he’d thought. 

All of this considered, he hadn’t been a very good wingman for his friends tonight. They’d dragged him to this party at Noor’s, scanning the room intently, looking for girls to pursue. Robbe just stood by, slumped and sipping lukewarm beer that just made his stomach turn.

Earthlingoddity: probably not a good idea he read again. Ugh. He was going to be torturing himself all night.

“Dude,” Jens elbowed him suddenly, or maybe just shifted, their proximity making it impossible to tell. “Dude, ten o’clock. That guy is totally checking you out.”

Robbe scoffed, not even bothering to look up. Gay guys at this party? He doubted it. 

“Seriously, Robbe,” Jens pushed again. “He’s definitely staring. And he’s actually pretty hot.” 

“Yep, totally,” Aaron agreed, nodding as he took a swig of his beer. “Definitely your type.”

“I don’t have a type,” Robbe sighed, finally tucking his phone back in his pocket and looking up. Shifting his gaze to his left, he looked in the direction the boys had indicated, trying to find a pair of eyes seeking his.

Whoa. Okay, so he was pretty hot.

Tall with messy brown hair, a boy with blue eyes was meeting his gaze. When the corners of the boy’s lips lifted in a smile, Robbe blushed, looking down. Now he looked desperate. Super.

“Go get another beer,” Jens said, shoving him forward. “See if he follows you. And act cool!”

“What? I—” Robbe protested, but the two were now pushing him together, forcing a parting of the crowd in front of them. 

Robbe swallowed, palms starting to sweat. He wove slowly through groups and couples dancing, making his way to the kitchen. Inside he sought out more drinks among the counter full of bottles and cups. It only took a few moments before he heard it.

“Hey,” the voice behind him said, deep and raspy. 

Robbe turned slowly, trying to swallow the dryness from his throat. The tall boy stood behind him, his beer dangling from two fingers. He leaned down to Robbe, putting his mouth close to his ear. 

“I’m Nathan,” he leaned back again to look Robbe in the eyes. 

“Uhm,” Robbe stammered. “I’m Rob-Robbe.”

“Hi, Robbe,” Nathan said, smiling. “Do you dance?” He took a step forward, dangerously close.

“Not if I can help it,” Robbe laughed nervously. The boy laughed too, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth and dimples. Robbe wiped a hand across his mouth, worried he was drooling now.

“Maybe another drink, then?” the boy asked. Robbe just nodded.

Nathan smiled and reached around to the counter, searching through the bottles. When he finally found an unopened one, he popped off the top easily, making Robbe’s stomach flip. So hot.  

Nathan handed it to Robbe, smiling. As Robbe took it, their fingertips brushed together. Robbe looked down, blushing. Then, again, the boy’s face was leaning down. They were cheek to cheek. 

“Want to get out of here?” he whispered, sending a wave of goosebumps down Robbe’s arm and spine. With a small nod, Nathan grabbed Robbe’s hand, leading him through the crowd.

…..

Outside, the air was much cooler, and Robbe felt like he could breathe again. The music blared from the door of the apartment building onto the street, but now it was just a dull throb instead of a deafening pulse.

Deep inhales of the outside air made his head feel lighter, his thoughts clearer...that is, until Nathan would brush his arm. Then he felt fuzzy again. With one arm leaning against the brick of the building, the other was casually touching Robbe’s every few minutes and Robbe could feel his knees going weak.

They had been talking for almost forty-five minutes and Robbe forgot how nice it was to talk intimately with someone he could actually be face to face with. Why had he even been bothering with Earthling? Clearly, that was going nowhere. Nathan, on the other hand, had potential. He was interesting, asking Robbe about his life and sharing details about his own. They talked easily, their touches getting progressively more frequent. Then, Nathan went silent, his gaze flicking down to Robbe’s lips. Robbe’s stomach was fluttering, licking his lips in anticipation. Nathan was leaning in, the hand against the brick sliding down to Robbe’s waist….

“Well, well well,” a loud voice behind him announced, breaking violently through their moment, causing the two to pull apart quickly. “If it isn’t my pal, Robin!” 

Sander Driesen, in dark jeans and a white t-shirt, appeared next to Robbe, followed by Britt in tow. He looked from Robbe to Nathan, smiling widely. 

“You have got to be kidding me,” Robbe muttered under his breath. Nathan looked confused, glancing from Robbe to the bleached-blonde boy.

“Robin?” he asked, biting his lip in bewilderment.

“Ignore him,” Robbe said, grabbing his shoulder. “C’mon.” 

“Aren’t you going to introduce me, Robin?” Sander replied, cocking his head and raising his eyebrows at Robbe. 

Robbe groaned. “Seriously, Sander,” he said, “Not now.”

“Oh, c’mon, buddy,” he gave Robbe’s shoulder a soft punch. “Introduce me to your friend,” the last work thick with implication.

Robbe rolled his eyes as Sander stuck a hand out to Nathan, who took it with a polite smile.

“I’m Sander,” the boy said. “Robbe and I….well, let’s just say we have a looooong history.”

Robbe glared at Sander. “We’re going now.”

As he was leading Nathan back down the street, Sander called out again, louder.

“We didn’t mean to interrupt the moment, love birds,” he said, smirking. “Carry on!” With a chuckle, Sander threw an arm around Britt’s waist and walked into the apartment.

A few feet down the sidewalk Nathan turned to Robbe. “Who was that?

“Nobody,” Robbe answered quickly, trying to turn the conversation anywhere but on Sander. 

“It didn’t seem like nobody,” Nathan said quietly, rubbing a hand through his hair.  “Is he...an old boyfriend, or something?”

“What?!” Robbe near-shouted, stopping to look right at Nathan. “No. No. Not even close. He drives me crazy.”

Nathan bit his lip. “Look, Robbe. I should probably get going.”

“What?” Robbe said, his face dropping. “Because of him? You can’t be serious—”

“I was probably moving too quickly,” Nathan said slowly. “I’m sorry.” He gave Robbe a quick kiss on the cheek and walked away, turning the corner out of view. 

…..

Robbe didn’t care who was spilling drinks or getting their feet stepped on. Plowing through the crowd with his elbows, he found his way into the party and back to Jens and Aaron, who were in the middle of telling a story to two girls bearing plastic cups and bored expressions.

“Uhm, hey guys?” Robbe said, tapping Jens on the shoulder. “I’m going to take off.” Jens turned, quickly motioning a be right back to the girls, who nodded vaguely. 

“Wait, what happened with the guy?’ Jens asked eagerly. “Are you going to his place?”

Robbe frowned. “No. It didn’t exactly...work out.”

“Sorry, man,” Aaron said, slapping Robbe’s shoulder. “Want us to come with?”

Robbe shook his head. “Nah, you guys stay. I’m going to call it a night anyway.”

Finishing his goodbyes, Robbe ditched his bottle and stepped back out in the night air, now considerably cooler. Finding his bike, he started unlocking the lock when a voice behind him again shook him out of his thoughts.

“Headed home already?” Sander. Again.

Robbe whipped around on him, finding him alone this time. 

“Seriously, Sander? Can you please just leave me alone?” Robbe said, almost whining now. “You already managed to ruin this night for me once.”

This sobered Sander a little, who swallowed and took a step forward.

“Robbe, I—”

“No, I mean it, Sander. Go back to Britt, who’s apparently not your ‘girlfriend,’” Robbe did air quotes, making Sander clench his teeth again, “and leave me the hell alone.”

There was silence for a moment before Sander spoke.

“I’m sorry, Robbe.”  

Robbe shook his head and turned back to his bike lock.

“I was doing you a favor, okay?” Sander spoke, his voice insistent. “That guy seemed like a real douche.” Robbe scoffed. Seriously? 

“I mean, did you see his hair?” Sander continued. “Total poser.”

Robbe laughed to himself. “Yeah, like you’re one to talk,” he mumbled back at Sander.

Sander smiled at this. “Touche.” 

Robbe had his bike unlocked now and he started to wheel it down the street. 

“See you around, Robbe.” Sander called out.

“Yeah, don’t count on it,” Robbe replied.

As he mounted his bike, his phone vibrated. A message.

Earthlingoddity: You know what, forget what I said. Screw the rules. Let’s meet. When? Where?

………

Robbe didn’t respond to Earthling’s message for several days. When he did, he wanted to come off cool, casual. He drafted and redrafted the same message in a hundred different ways. Finally, he sent back:

Sterkerdanijzer: Yeah, okay. I guess we can. I can do Friday at 18h. Drinks at Jardim Antwerpen?

He got a reply almost immediately.

Earthlingoddity: Absolutely. I’ll be there. Without a mask ;-) 

So there he was, sitting at a table watching the sun go down, turning a near-empty glass in his hands over and over again in his hands. Even with the condensation from the glass, Robbe’s palms were clammy. He was so nervous he had to occasionally reach down to calm his shaking legs. 

Milan had helped him pick out an outfit, a white linen button up and jeans. Zoe had mussed his hair until she insisted it was “perfect.” But he just felt ridiculous. Why was he even doing this? If he’d learned anything from the past few weeks, it was that he knew nothing. And he was probably going to be single forever. And for all he knew, Earthling would turn out to be a serial killer. 

At 18h15, Robbe started to get antsy. He messaged the boy:

Sterkerdanijzer: I’m here. White shirt, brown hair. U close?

But he got no response. He bit his lip anxiously, checking his phone constantly. At 18h45, after he had downed one more drink than he should have, he got up. Leaving a tip on the table, he shoved his phone in his pocket and headed to leave. This was a ridiculous idea, he scolded himself. So stupid. Of course he wouldn’t show.

As he neared the exit, he saw a flash of white in his peripheral. Turning, he saw a boy sitting at a table alone, phone in his hand. Sander.

As if he’d spoken his name out loud, Sander looked up, green eyes glowing. He smirked. “Small world,” he called out to Robbe. “What are you doing here?”

Robbe glared at him. “None of your business. What are you doing here?”

Sander just looked at him for a minute. “I’m, uh...waiting for Britt. She’s supposed to be here soon. Were you waiting for a date?” His knowing smile made Robbe’s insides twist. 

“Right,” Robbe said, nodding. “Well, I’m going to…” he turned again to leave.

“Uhm, actually, Robbe?” he called out. Robbe turned back slightly. What was he going to say now?

“Do you think I could borrow your phone to text Britt? Mine is dead.”

Robbe hesitated. Gone from Sander’s tone was any hint of teasing. He sounded genuine. He sounded desperate, almost. 

“Yeah, fine,” Robbe seceded, walking over to Sander’s table and handing over his phone. 

“Thanks,” Sander said, giving Robbe a small smile as he met his gaze. 

Robbe stood there as Sander typed, concentrating hard on the screen. Waiting, he glanced around again. No sign of anybody new. No sign of anybody looking for him. He was so stupid. 

“So, were you supposed to meet Nathan here?” Sander asked, not looking up as he continued to type.

“Why do you care?” Robbe asked.

Sander looked up. “I’m just making conversation. I hope it wasn’t him, though. You could do better.”

Robbe scoffed. “Okay, thanks for the tip, Sander.” He turned away again. ‘Cause Sander cared SO much about him. Right.

Then Sander stood, downing the rest of his drink. “Look like she’s not coming.” But as he handed Robbe back his phone, he didn’t look sad. He was smiling. Walking toward the exit, he turned back toward Robbe. 

“You coming?” Sander asked.

“What, me?” Robbe asked incredulously.

“Uh, yeah you, Robin,” Sander laughed. “Let’s go.” Walking away again, Robbe stood there, mouth open. 

“Come!” Sander’s voice reached Robbe again. He was probably too drunk to think straight because next thing he knew, he was following Sander’s silhouette into the sunset. 

…..

“Sander, you cannot be serious,” Robbe stood obstinately away from the door, shaking his head at the boy, who was jiggling with the lock on a door, labeled boldly with a “No Trespassing” sign. “I assumed your plans were more drinks, not jail.”

Sander kept his hands on the door handle, but turned to face Robbe, a teasing grin on his face.

“Would you chill? We’re not getting arrested. I’ve done this a hundred times.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that makes me feel better,” Robbe retorted. 

Sander just laughed and continued jiggling until click. The door squeaked open. He turned and raised his eyebrows at Robbe. “Come.”

Robbe shook his head again. He could not believe this. Not only was Sander trying to ruin his social life, he was trying to get him arrested. But Sander had disappeared behind the door, and finally, reluctantly, Robbe followed behind him.

Illuminating the stairs inside with the light on his phone, Sander led Robbe to the top, where he held his hands out in a ta-da! motion, so clearly pleased with this reveal. 

Reaching the top and taking in the scene, Robbe’s jaw dropped. A large, open-air pool laid out before him, neon blue water rippling with the cold wind.

“No,” Robbe started, his voice escalating. “Sander, no. We are not—”

But Sander was starting to shrug out of his jacket, then reaching down to undo the laces of his boots. 

“C’mon,” he whisper-yelled. “We’re doing this!”

“You’re insane!” Robbe yelled. “There’s no way I’m getting in that pool. We will die!”

Sander laughed as he lifted his shirt over his head. “We will not die, Robbe. Just come!”  

Robbe just stood there in disbelief as Sander kept shedding clothes, not stopping at his briefs. In a blink of an eye, he was completely naked and running towards the pool, jumping in with a yelp.

Robbe’s jaw dropped. Sander was actually insane. And was his skin always that golden? And did he have abs?

Emerging from the water with a screech, Sander called out again. 

“Robbe, come! It’s amazing in here!”

“No,” Robbe said defiantly. “No way.”

“You’re missing out, Robin,” he called out to him in a sing-song voice.

Robbe shook his head. “It’s freezing cold!”

“Yeah, it’s freezing cold,” Sander said. “But you have to do it. Get in! Now!”

Treading water, the light from the pool making his blonde hair glow neon, Sander waited for him, smiling.

Before he could think, Robbe started unbuttoning his shirt, dropping it on the concrete. Stepping out of his jeans, he watched Sander’s eyes roam across his bare chest. He swallowed hard.

Down to his underwear, Robbe started toward the pool, berating himself for giving into the demands of a pretentious — but weirdly captivating — boy. 

Okay, that was clearly the alcohol talking, he thought, shaking the idea from his head. 

“Hey, hey!” Sander yelled, stopping Robbe in his tracks. “All the way or no way.”

Robbe balked at him. Was he serious? He exhaled, biting his lip. Reaching down, he stripped off his underwear, now completely bare in front of Sander Driesen. He was going to regret this. But for now, he jumped into the pool.

He had been right. It was freezing. Easily the coldest water he’d ever felt. When his head exited the water, he yelped. 

“Oh. My. God.” he squealed, teeth chattering. “I am going to kill you, Sander!” He splashed around violently, trying to keep his limbs from going numb. 

“Dude, can you even swim?” Sander yelled, laughing.

Robbe splashed water Sander’s way. “Are you kidding? I can swim better than you any day!”

“Was that a challenge?” Sander quipped, circling around Robbe. 

“Well, yeah, I think it was!” Robbe answered. “You scared Driesen?” 

Sander smiled at him. “You’re on, Robin! First one to that opposite side of the pool wins! On three!”

“One….” Robbe started.

“Two….” Sander echoed.

“Three!” They yelled in unison, taking off for the pool’s edge. 

Robbe stroked, gasping deeply as he tried to find his stride. He was not going to let Sander beat him, no matter how drunk he was.

But when he reached the ledge, cheering in victory, he couldn’t see Sander. He wiped the water from his eyes, and looked beneath the water for Sander. He couldn’t see him anywhere.

“Sander?” He called out. “I totally kicked your ass!”

Still, nothing. Now, Robbe was starting to panic.

“Sander?!” His yelled, desperation creeping into his voice. He was about to call out again when Sander popped out of the water directly in front of him, so close, stealing Robbe’s breath and pinning him against the ledge.

“Sander, what the hell? What are you—” Robbe started, but before he could finish, Sander grasped the ledge behind Robbe, covering his body with his. Robbe felt Sander’s chest rise and fall against his as he tried to catch his breath.

“You won, Robin,” Sander spoke deeply. 

Then, he was kissing Robbe, keeping one hand on the ledge, the other sliding down to Robbe’s waist, holding him in place. Sander’s hand was firm, making Robbe melt beneath him. Robbe reached back a hand to hold himself to the ledge and the other found the nape of Sander’s neck. Using his fingers, he pulled Sander towards him, then let those fingers tangle themselves in Sander’s hair. Feeling his pull, Sander kissed Robbe deeper, grasping at any part of Robbe’s mouth he could find, sliding down to his jaw and his neck, sucking the skin there. Whining, Robbe’s eyes rolled back. Sander found lips again, tugging on them gently. Robbe licked the soft skin of Sander’s lips and heard a gentle moan escape the boy’s throat. It was happening so fast. Their limbs and breath were tangling, mixing together in explosive energy that made them both weak. 

He was kissing Sander Driesen. He was kissing Sander Driesen. When these words came together and made sense in his mind, he startled, shoving Sander off of him. 

“What are we doing?” Robbe spoke, trying to catch his breath. “What are we doing?! This isn’t….we’re, we’re drunk!” His voice was rising, filling with disbelief and exasperation.

“Robbe, I—” Sander said, water dripping off his golden skin, tempting Robbe more than he wanted to admit. He approached Robbe again slowly. 

“No, no,” Robbe said, reaching for the ledge and hefting himself out of the water. “This was a huge mistake. I’m drunk. We’re drunk. We shouldn’t have—”

“Robbe, wait!” Sander called, swimming towards the ledge and following Robbe out.

Robbe ran and gathered his clothes. “I have to go, Sander. Let me go.” 

Sander stopped, a look of confusion and hurt painting his face. “Robbe, don’t….”

Robbe spun on him, his voice rising. “Don’t follow me, Sander. And don’t you dare tell anyone about this. Swear it.”  

Sander just looked at him, lifting up his hands in submission. “I’m sorry, I swear I won’t—”     

Then Robbe ran down the stairs, struggling to pull his clothes on over his soaking-wet body as he left Sander behind him.

……

Robbe had hoped that when he woke up, the whole night would have been a dream. A ridiculous dream that would have made him blush...and probably need to take a cold shower. But still, a dream. A dream he could forget about. But the pile of wet clothes on the floor and phone full of messages from Sander proved otherwise. He groaned, aching from the memory and the hangover. 

His phone vibrated again and exasperated, he turned to silence it when he saw it — a message not from Sander, but from Earthling. 

Earthlingoddity: Hey….I know that there is probably nothing I can say to you right now that will make up for what I did last night. I didn’t mean to stand you up. I promise. Something just...came up and I couldn’t make it. I promise it wasn’t you, okay. Please, please forgive me? 

Robbe just stared at the message. As he did, another message from Sander came. 

Sander: Robbe, please answer me. I’m sorry about last night. Can we please talk, face-to-face?

Robbe rubbed his face. What was he going to say to either of these people? Why was everything such a mess?

Kissing Sander last night...that had been the biggest shock to his system. Sander hated him. He hated Sander. That was their relationship. But in an ice-cold pool they’d entered some alternate universe and crossed a line. They were drunk. That was it. Right?

Robbe went back to the message from Earthling. Typing slowly, he sent:

Sterkerdanijzer: you were right. We should have never agreed to meet.

He got a response back almost immediately.

Earthlingoddity: No! No, it wasn’t a mistake. We should meet. I promise, something just came up that I couldn’t say no to. I want to meet you so bad. Please, can you give me another chance? I’ll do anything.

Robbe closed the message. Not now.

Taking another deep breath, he opened Sander’s message. 

Robbe: Fine, we can talk. Come to my house in an hour.

Sander: I’ll be there. 

……

After Robbe had showered and straightened up his room, he took a deep breath. He had no idea how he was going to survive this interaction with Sander, after all that had happened between them. They’d kissed. ALOT. They’d been naked, for heaven’s sake. Robbe groaned, flopping back down on his bed. What was happening to him? The world was turning upside down.

With that, there was a knock on the door. He could hear Jens shuffling to get it, but he raced to the door, sliding past Jens. 

“I got it, I got it.” 

Jens just looked at him, yawning. “What the hell?”

“It’s...it’s uhm...for me. I’ll get it.”

Jens stared blankly. “You’re being weird.” But he just went off towards the kitchen, yawning again.

Taking a breath, Robbe opened the door. 

Sander stood there, his hair also wet, clearly brushed into submission. He had on a cream-colored sweater, which shocked Robbe. He looked good. 

“Robbe. Hey.” He smiled, taking a deep breath.

Robbe just stood there, unsure of what to say.

Sander smiled again. “Soooo….can I come in or….?”

“Oh, right. Yeah, come in.” Robbe opened the door wider so Sander could enter. 

Glancing towards the kitchen, where Jens was making coffee, glasses clinking, he motioned to the hallway. 

“Let’s go to my room and talk,” Robbe spoke quietly.

“Sure, yeah,” Sander nodded. “Lead the way.”

Robbe walked hesitantly toward his room, opening the door for Sander. He entered, looking around. 

“Nice place,” he commented, looking at Robbe with a wink. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Robbe smiled, feeling flushed all of the sudden.

Sander went and sat on the edge of the bed. Robbe followed.

Sander cleared his throat. “So, I know what happened last night surprised you. I know it surprised me.” He smiled to himself. “I just wanted to say that….I’m not sorry.”

“What?” Robbe looked up at him, confused.

Sander was firm, sure. “I said, I’m not sorry. For what happened. For kissing you.”

“You’re….not sorry….” Robbe repeated slowly, trying to understand.

“I wanted to kiss you and I did. And I don’t regret it. I know we were drunk, but I think you wanted to kiss me, too.”

Robbe felt heat rise to his cheeks. He spoke quietly. “Sander…it doesn’t make sense. We don’t make sense. At all. We are at each other’s throats constantly.”

“So what?” Sander asked, laughing. “Maybe what we thought was hate was just passion.”

“Passion?” Robbe choked. “Passion? We can’t stand each other! We drive each other completely crazy!”

“Well,” Sander began, biting his lip. “That, I guess, is true. You do drive me crazy. But not for the reasons you think.”

What? 

“Sander, what are you—” but Robbe stopped as Sander turned towards him, sliding a hand to cup his jaw. 

“You do drive me completely insane, Robbe,” he said gently. “But in a way I want to feel all the time. That kiss was….” he put his hands together over his head, imitating a mind-blown gesture, “pppppffffffeeeewww.”

Robbe’s lips were curling up in a smile he couldn’t hide. He felt warm. But something nagged at him.

“Sander, I can’t do this,” he admitted quickly, before he could stop himself. “I know this sounds silly and stupid, but….there’s someone else.”

Sander sat back. “Who, Nathan?”

Robbe shook his head. “No, not Nathan. You ruined that one, remember?” He slugged Sander’s arm.

“No, it’s….” Robbe put his head down, embarrassed. “It’s someone I don’t even actually know.” He covered his face in his hands. “I know, it’s so stupid. But I think I really care about this person.”

To Robbe’s surprise, Sander didn’t laugh. Or come up with some stupid insult. Or even seem surprised by his revelation at all. 

“Okay,” he began. “So, who is he? Where did you meet him?” 

“Well,” Robbe said, blushing again. “We met online. On a stupid street art blog. We talk through DMs all day, everyday. Yesterday, when we ran into each other, I was waiting for him. We were supposed to meet each other for the first time in person. But….he stood me up.”

“Hmmm,” Sander sounded. “Sounds like a real asshole.”

Robbe laughed. “He’s not, though! Sure, I was devastated that he ditched me...and then, we kissed...and, everything is just a mess.” He fell back on the bed again, hands over his face.

Sander was silent for a minute. “So did he apologize? For last night?”

Robbe sat up slightly. “Well, yeah. He messaged me again saying he was sorry, and that it wasn’t me.”

“So?” Sander asked, probing for more. 

“So what?” Robbe asked.

“So, what are you going to say? Are you going to forgive him?” Sander asked.

“Well...I don’t know,” Robbe admitted. “I want to. You’re going to insult me mercilessly for the rest of time for saying this, but...I think Earthling is my soulmate.”

Sander grinned. “I’m sorry, who?”

Robbe laughed, embarrassed again. 

“Earthlingoddity, it’s his handle. I just call him Earthling.”

Sander looked down at his lap, biting his lip to hide a grin.

“I knew you would make fun of me!” Robbe shoved Sander. “I knew it!”

“No!” Sander held his hands up innocently. “I’m not making fun of you! I think it’s cute. I mean, it’s a Bowie reference, he’s obviously got good taste.”

Robbe smiled. “Yeah, he does,” he said.

“So,” Sander continued. “If you think this guy is your soulmate, I think you should talk to him. Give him another chance.”

“What should I say?” Robbe asked. “Do I ask him to meet up again?”

Sander thought for a minute. “I think you need to give him an ultimatum. His last chance.”

“An ultimatum?” Robbe asked.

“Yep.” Sander said, scooting to sit cross-legged on the bed. “Take out your phone.”

“What, now?” Robbe asked incredulously. 

“Yes, now!” Sander said firmly. “C’mon. Get your phone.”

Robbe shook his head. Of course, his rival, the guy he’d made out with last night, was now helping him attempt to snag a man. He officially understood nothing.

Taking out his phone, he pulled up Earthling’s message. 

“So what do I say?” He looked at Sander.

“Just say….” Sander began, looking off in thought. “You hurt me yesterday. This is your one chance to make it up to me. Meet me tonight or we’re done with this. No more talking, no more messages. This is it. Your last chance” Damn. Looking at Sander once more, he typed it out. Taking a deep breath, he hit Send.

“Oh no, oh no, I sent it. What now. What if he doesn’t answer? What if he thinks I’m desperate?” Robbe rattled off, starting to hyperventilate.

Then, Sander’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out. 

“Sorry, hold on a sec,” he said. “I gotta respond to this.”

“Sander!” Robbe whined. “Focus! I need you! If he responds, you have to help me!”

“Don’t worry. Robin,” Sander said with a smirk. “He will. And I will.”

Sander typed quickly, then put his phone back down on the bed. He was hiding another smirk.

Robbe glared at him. “Sander! Are you texting Britt right now? Should I remind you that we’re focusing on me right now? Or should I remind you that you kissed me last night? What is wrong with you?!”

Sander shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t texting Britt, Robbe, calm down.” 

But Robbe ignored this as his phone buzzed again.

“Oh my god, okay, it’s him,” he cleared his throat. “This is what he said.” 

Now, Sander was laughing. Loudly. 

“Sander!” Robbe whined again.

Sander tried to stifle a laugh with his palm. “Okay,” he tried to turn the laugh into a cough. “Right, I’m focused. Well, what did he say?”

Robbe swiped and opened the message.

“He said...I choose you, Robin. Always, one hundred percent, forever.”

Robbe’s phone fell in his lap as he looked up at Sander. 

“Sander…..what kind of joke are you—”

Sander just shook his head and grinned. “Don’t call me, Sander. From now on, you have to call me Earthling.”   

Then, Sander was crawling over to Robbe, pushing him back down on the bed.

Hovering over him, he spoke gently. 

“When I saw you with Nathan at the party last week, I got jealous. You looked so hot and I knew I was starting to want you. It scared me. I knew you hated me. But I did. I wanted you. Trust me, Britt and I aren’t together. I just wanted to make you jealous. And that obviously backfired,” he said, laughing.

He continued to Robbe’s breathless stare. “Then I found out it was you I had been messaging when I borrowed your phone at the bar yesterday,” he said. “I saw the messages I’d sent you as Earthling. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe Robin was the boy I’d been talking to. The boy I’d been falling in love with, online and in real life. I was going to tell you right there, but you were so mad at me and so cute and I couldn’t resist trying to see if I could get you to fall in love with me, too. As Sander. And after that kiss, I knew what we had was real. Whether over text or in a freezing cold pool, it was real.”

Robbe blinked in disbelief. Was he really hearing this? It wasn’t some colossal joke Sander was playing on him? 

“Sander….” he said carefully. “Is that true? Is that really—” but before he could finish, Sander was kissing him again, winding a hand into his hair, immersing him completely, deeply into him.

It was true. 

.....

So, telling their friends about their relationship had been interesting. 

First, Jen had walked in on them, sloshing coffee all over himself when he saw Sander pulling off Robbe’s shirt. That had been a hard one to explain.

But the weirdest part was that no one had really seemed surprised. Sure, Jens was taken back initially, but as they sat in the kitchen sharing coffee (after Robbe had reclaimed his shirt and gotten dressed), Robbe sitting on Sander’s lap, Jens had smiled at them like a proud dad. 

You’re like yin and yang, he’d said. Somehow you two just fit.

And they did. In so many ways. Their minds, their souls, their bodies...

They just fit. 

[imagine-loki]

Blushing in His Colours, Chapter 3

TITLE: Blushing in His Colours CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 3 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki being a Daddy Dom, his adores and loves his little, worships the ground she walks on. She has vaginismus, but he couldn’t be more supportive with her. RATING: M

When Loki saw Mia the following day, a blush instantly graced her cheeks, making him grin. He went over to her and kissed her cheek in greeting, making the others around them all ‘oooooo.’ He glared at them in return.

‘The date went well last night then?’ Clint asked with a smirk.

They were in the kitchen having breakfast before starting their day.

‘A gentleman never tells.’ Loki said as he held his head high.

Mia went to sort out her breakfast, unable to stop blushing at being the main focus of the conversation within the team.

‘You’re far from a gentleman.’ Stark snorted.

Loki narrowed his eyes at him and folded his arms over his chest. ‘I’d beg to differ.’

Mia had her back to the group as she poured milk into her cereal. But she did speak up. ‘Loki was the perfect gentleman last night. More than rest of you are, that’s for sure.’

Loki grinned and looked rather smug. The team all laughed.

‘Oh no, his mischievousness is already rubbing off on you.’ Tony said as he put his face in his hands, then he looked at Loki. ‘Do NOT corrupt our sweet and innocent Mia!’

When Mia turned around, she met Loki’s gaze and he winked at her with a mischievous smirk. ‘I am making no promises.’

Because Mia’s job was to keep up their social media appearance, it meant she was often right in the action. Taking pictures of the team ‘behind the scenes’ providing it didn’t compromise any mission, as the fans loved to see what the superheroes got up to at times.

So she found herself in the lab with Loki, Tony, Bruce, Fury and Vision. She was typing some stuff up on her laptop in the corner, Loki kept glancing in her direction, unable to stop looking at her.

‘Oi, stop staring at your new girlfriend and concentrate!’ Tony remarked as he tossed a pen at Loki, but with his quick reflexes Loki was able to catch the pen before it hit him, glaring at Tony.

Mia had heard and she couldn’t help the big smile that spread across her face. She tried to concentrate on her work though, even if she could feel the God’s eyes on her often.

Later on, Mia disappeared to get something to eat from the kitchen. When she returned, she had food and drinks for everyone. Including Loki’s favourite flavour of muffins that she had baked a few days ago. When Loki thought about it, she often went out of her way for other people, especially him. She always seemed to get his favourite drink or food and would always beam happily when he thanked her.

The following day Mia was down on the training floor on the benches, watching Thor, Steve, Natasha and Clint training. She was taking a few pictures and posting onto their media. She was thinking about heading off, but Loki entered the hall and she decided to stick around for a bit. Smiling like mad when he waved at her.

He had his full armour on, like Thor, and jumped in to start training. Everyone knew he was deliberately showing off because Mia was watching, even she knew. But she found it flattering, and was always impressed with his skills.

But he was caught unaware.

He had just tricked the rest of them using his illusions and pinned Thor down with a dagger at his throat. When he got up off Thor, he looked over to Mia. He winked at her and grinned, but that’s when he was blindsided by Natasha getting him in a headlock with her ridiculously strong thighs and knocking him down to the ground with a loud thud.

Thor, Clint and Steve all burst out laughing. Mia laughed too and put her hands over her mouth. Loki got up, rather flustered as he flicked his hair back from his face and wiped the dust from his arms. He looked over at Mia sheepishly.

He wandered over towards her as she gathered her things up and stood to meet him.

‘Impressive.’ She smiled up at him.

Loki chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. ‘Aside from the end.’

‘Still impressive. Not many would be able to get up unscathed from being taken down by Natasha.’

‘True. And I was a little distracted by something rather beautiful.’ Loki reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear, then trailed his fingers along her jawline.

‘There’s uhm… the monthly Avengers interview coming up. I was wondering if you fancy doing it?’ She asked, giving him puppy dog eyes.

It was something new she had started doing, Tony was the first one last month. A small five-minute interview that Mia posted. Just to give fans a little personal insight into the team.

‘Of course. Give the fans who they really want.’ Loki smirked.

‘You do have quite the fanbase, actually.’ Mia laughed.

‘I do?’ Loki frowned, but was intrigued.

‘Oh yeah. They call themselves Loki’s army. Quite the army too.’ She grinned.

Loki titled his head, but he did look a little smug. ‘Well, they have good taste… Are you in my army?’ He raised an eyebrow.

Mia smirked, deciding to play a bit. Feeling brave again. ‘I dunno. Maybe I’m team Hulk.’ She shrugged.

Loki’s mouth parted in mock shock. ‘Well, I will need to work harder to get you on my team.’

‘Sooo… Is that a yes for the interview?’

‘Of course. Anything for you.’

-

Mia had asked Loki to meet her before breakfast the next morning in the living room, to do the interview. It would give her time to come up with some good questions.

But Loki decided he wanted to do the interview somewhere more private. So he went along to her room an hour before he was due to meet her.

He knocked and heard Mia call out to just come in. When he entered though, Mia was surprised to see it was Loki.

‘Loki! Hi.’ She stammered quickly, surprised.

Loki was also surprised, she was in her pyjamas. Light blue, with cute baby penguins on them. But his first thought was how adorable she looked, with her messy hair too.

‘Oh gosh! I was expecting Wanda. Sorry, I uh… Let me just get changed real quick.’ She said in fluster, practically sprinting into her bathroom.

Loki smiled and waited until she was dressed. That’s when his eyes were drawn to what she was watching. He was a little confused when he noticed it was on the cartoon channel. But he didn’t think overly much of it, until he then spotted something peeking out from underneath her pillow. Curious, he went over and had a look, it was a colouring book of Disney characters.

His first thought was, did she have a secret child here? But he shook that off, knowing it was ridiculous. He was slightly confused as to why she would have a colouring book. Then he just thought perhaps it was something she enjoyed doing in her down time.

Loki stepped away from her bed, just as Mia emerged from the bathroom. She was looking embarrassed as she stuffed her pyjamas away in a drawer.

‘Sorry… I uhm, should probably check who’s there first.’ She said sheepishly.

‘Not at all. I should’ve said it was me.’ Loki smiled and walked over to her, he rubbed her arm and then leaned down to kiss her on the lips, making her squeak a little and blush so hard. ‘I was rather hoping we could do the interview somewhere private? The others will be a distraction in the living room.’ He chuckled.

‘Yeah, sure. Where would you prefer?’ Mia asked, still slightly flustered from the innocent kiss.

Loki shrugged. ‘Here, if that suits you? Or we could go to my room if you’d rather?’ He asked.

‘Here is good.’ Mia nodded and went over to her desk, clearing some space.

During the interview, Loki couldn’t help but be besotted with her. It was a good excuse for him to be able to just stare at her without being called out on it from the others. He kept his flirting to a minimum, knowing this was going online.  

Mia managed to keep her cool when she asked him questions, she had set up a camera to film him so it was more personal for the fans. They went nuts over the first one with Tony, so she hoped this one would be an even bigger hit.

Once it was uploaded, Mia showed Loki some of the comments. His fangirls were going crazy over it. Especially when Mia had asked him what he thought about having a fanbase. He’d replied in a charming way, saying he appreciated having so much support.

He read one comment: Heck, Loki can rule over me any day! I would kneel for him without being told to!

‘Quite a few say similar. Your, uh, attempt at ruling Earth is all over Tumblr and YouTube. Many have made fan videos out of them.’ Mia said with a laugh.

‘Really? I thought everyone would have been repulsed by what I did.’

‘Not everyone. I mean, I’d kneel for you.’ Mia said without thinking as she shrugged. Then she realised what it was she had just said. Her eyes widened.

‘Oh, really?’ Loki growled a little, leaning down closer to her as he was stood behind her, while she sat on the chair at her desk.

Mia cleared her throat and tried to ignore the fact she had just openly admitted somewhat a fantasy to Loki and that his breath was hot against her neck.

‘This interview is already a huge hit, more so than Tony’s.’ She said to try and change the subject. But Loki spun her chair around so she had to face him as he put his hands on the arms and trapped her in.

‘No changing the subject, pet.’ He chuckled at her doe in the headlights look.

‘I… wasn’t… really… I just don’t know what to say after that.’ She blurted out nervously, her eyes skittishly moving all over his face, unsure on where to look.

But she was saved by the knock. Wanda had arrived, which Mia was slightly relieved for. Though she had a feeling Loki would try and bring it up again later.

He left the girls to it, heading back to his room.

His mind kept wandering to what he’d found in Mia’s room. Or what he’d seen. He went to his laptop and sat down, after thinking for a moment he went to google to see if he could find some answers.

After some researching, he wasn’t entirely sure how he ended up on a kink site. But there he was, reading all about a Daddy Dom/little dynamic.

Some of the characteristics of a little suited Mia to a T. It really got him wondering if she was in fact a little. He then realised that while thinking of her in this kind of way he was slightly aroused.

He looked through a Daddy Dom’s characteristics and was surprised to find he fit a lot of them. When he thought about it, being in that kind of relationship with Mia was very appealing to him. And he thought how it kind of made sense why one girl actually called him Daddy during sex once… Perhaps he just oozed Daddy Dom appeal, he thought smugly.

But he now had to figure out for certain if Mia was into this kind of thing… or if it was just a coincidence. He could of course just ask her outright, but he didn’t want to scare her off if that wasn’t something she was into. He wasn’t going to lie, now he knew about the subject more and had thought about it, he would be a bit disappointed if she wasn’t…

‘Hmm…’ He tapped his lower lip in thought, deciding how to proceed.

After a lot of mulling it over, he decided that trying to coax it out of her naturally was going to be his best route.

[transform-or-treat]

Treat from Anonymous!

Treat for @synthesizeher!  Your gifter wanted to remain anonymous but they really hope you enjoy this!

Prompt: "G1 Dinobots and the Technobots, Halloween Fun, Grimlock tries to take the Technobots out for their first trick or treat, cue disastrous costumes and jumpscares and candy trading" for @synthesizeher on Tumblr.

"They're asleep," Grimlock said, coming to sit beside his conjunx. Misfire sighed and draped himself across the Dinobot's lap, wings twitching with exhaustion. Grimlock rumbled in amusement and started rubbing his back. "I've been thinking…," he said softly. "Mhm?" Misfire asked, optics closed in bliss, giving him however much time he needed to order his words. "I want them to have more Earth culture. I am from there." "Did you have anything specific in mind?" Grimlock tilted his head, considering. "There are so many festivals." "You could ask the Witwickys." Grimlock grinned behind his mask and leaned down to nuzzle the back of his conjunx' neck. "You have the best ideas." "Halloween!" Daniel cheered. "I'm going to be Lance from Voltron." Grimlock made an inquisitive noise. "Halloween is when you dress up as other people and go knock on people's doors and ask for candy by saying 'trick or treat!'," Daniel explained, grinning. "The better your costume, the more candy you get." Lightspeed shared an excited look with Afterburner. "I call Buzz Lightyear!" Wheeljack laughed and stood from the seat where he had been lounging. "Guess I'll be dusting off the old tools of the trade." "You don't have to do that, Ri," Grimlock protested. Misfire nodded. "We'll just use temp paint." Wheeljack spluttered. "Nonsense! You have to really get into the spirit of the holiday! Alright, kiddos, give me your requests!" The Technobots all started babbling over each other in excitement. Very carefully, Scattershot approached his grandcreator and tugged on his arm. Wheeljack leaned down, tilting his audial as the Technobot leader whispered. His optics crinkled at the corners as he grinned. "You got it, kiddo." "Okay, hold still," Wheeljack said, as he carefully pinned the steel wool he had lovingly spun and woven into the kind of fabric Cybertron hadn't seen since the Golden Age. "How come you know all this stuff?" Nosecone asked, staying indeed extremely still. "I used to live on a cybersheep farm," Wheeljack said, his fins flashing cheerfully. "It was my great-great-great-grandsire's farm. We had sheep and zap-ponies and mineral fields and an energon distillery." "Can you teach me?" "Maybe. I don't know, I still like science better. But I am the only one who still knows this stuff, as far as I'm aware, so I probably should pass it on." "It's okay," Nosecone said. "You don't have to decide right now." Wheeljack chuckled and patted his hand. "I appreciate that, kiddo. Alright," he said, rocking back, "that ought to do it. Just gotta get it all sewn together, and then all the costumes are ready." Nosecone grinned as Wheeljack helped him out of his costume. "Did you get to make the visor?" "Yep, but no lasers, okay? It's a safety risk." Nosecone nodded solemnly. "I understand." Grimlock chuckled as he watched his creations file out of Wheeljack's back room. Lightspeed zoomed out the door, shouting "To infinity - and beyond!" Strafe followed at a slightly more sedate speed, but that was due to the long "mustache" that reached almost to his feet and the giant oversized hat that was nearly as tall as he was than anything else. He swung toy pistols from his hips. "Pew, pew, pew! I'm the fastest gun north, south, east, and west of Ibex! Pew, pew!" Grimlock smiled and nudged Misfire over their bond. He's a better shot than you. Misfire collapsed into giggles, losing it even more as a suction cupped foam dart hit him between the optics. Strafe grinned sheepishly. "Oops." "Raaaarrrr!" Afterburner screeched, jumping out, completely enclosed in some kind of monster costume. "Radiation breath! Radiation breath!" Grimlock laughed. "See, I told you the radiation breath could be invisible and still work!" Nosecone called, adjusting the yellow sash over his blue jumpsuit. "I don't have any eye lasers cause that would be a safety risk." Misfire and Grimlock nodded solemnly, then waited for Scattershot to make his appearance. There was a crash from the workshop. "Everything alright?" Grimlock shouted. "Fine!" Wheeljack called back. "Just forgot a very important costume element!" Another few minutes passed, and then Scattershot burst out of the door, dressed in silver, red, and yellow, and waving an orange sword in the air. "Me Grimlock, King!" Grimlock's jaw nearly hit the floor, and Misfire's optics just about bulged out of his faceplates. Scattershot yelped as the Tyrannosaurus Rex head on top of his helm slid down, covering his vision. He pushed it back up and grinned sheepishly. "Do you like it?" Grimlock laughed and scooped his creation up into his arms. "I love it!" He looked up as his creator walked out, hands still covered in various shades of orange paint. "You did a good job, Ri. What do we say, sparklings?" "Thank you, Grand-carrier!" the Technobots chorused. "Are we ready to go trick or treating?" Grimlock asked. The excited yells that earned him were nearly deafening. They met the Witwickys outside the Earth embassy. "Here!" Daniel called, waving. "I made a list of everybody I know for sure will give us candy. We've got to get these guys first so we have something to snack on." Nosecone rushed over to review the list and come up with a plan of attack. "Are you ready for your first Halloween as parents?" Carly asked, eyes sparkling. Grimlock crouched down to greet her and made a non-committal hum. "As much as we can be." Carly laughed. "Sounds about right." "How long are we staying out for?" Misfire asked, putting a hand on Grimlock's back as he straightened. Spike shrugged. "A joor maybe? We want the kids to have fun but not get overtired. At the very least, we'll be able to hit everyone on Daniel's list. First I think is Rodimus." He raised his voice to carry over the sound of excited younglings. "Everyone ready to go?" A chorus of affirmatives rang out, and the party slowly moved down the broad street that ran in front of the embassy. They didn't head to the Primal Palace or the Senate Hall like most would to meet the Prime, instead with the privilege granted to them as friends, they strolled leisurely to a nondescript apartment in what was decidedly a middle-class neighborhood. Bluestreak answered the door and promptly fell over himself laughing. "Radiation breath!" Afterburner yelled, pointing at the giggling Praxian. "No!" Bluestreak yelled, clutching his spark. "Not radiation breath! I'm dying - I'm melting - tell Rodimus… I love him. Blergh!" Afterburner stared in shock, then glanced at his creators, completely out of his depth. "Trick - Trick or treat?" "A trick!" Bluestreak sat up with a shout and grabbed Afterburner, fingers diving for ticklish seams. The Technobot collapsed in fits of laughter, pouring sheer delight down the bond with his brothers. Rodimus stepped out into the doorway and laughed at what he found. "Alright, alright," he said, patting his Conjunx Potentia on the head. "Who wants candy?" He made quick work of passing out energon goodies, chocolate, and compliments on the children's costumes and then dragged Bluestreak back inside. "They're trying to have a baby," Daniel said when everyone looked confused at the normally affable Prime's hurry. "Rodimus told me cause he wants me to be an uncle." The parents exchanged knowing glances. "Oh," Scattershot said, as if that explained everything. "Well who's next on the list?" Ultra Magnus turned out to be next, peering out at the Technobots through a comically large door. He gave each sparkling precisely two goodies, and Daniel precisely two goodie-sized chocolate bars. "An excellent choice of costume," he congratulated Lightspeed and Nosecone. "Peacekeepers are always noteworthy." "Especially when they're corrupt," Misfire interjected, smiling saccharinely. "Then you have to watch them to make sure they don't hurt you or your friends." Ultra Magnus stared at him for a moment, then wisely chose not to engage any further. "As you say," he said, and then closed the door. "Why don't you hurry on ahead?" Grimlock asked, putting a hand on his conjunx' lower back. Carly nodded and she and Spike gathered the children together and started walking. Grimlock waited until they were out of sight before dragging him into an alley. "We will never let what happened to Cybertron before happen to our children," he promised. "You weren't there," Misfire snapped, attempting a rare dig at his partner's age. "Stop that," Grimlock chided him. "That doesn't mean I don't know it was wrong. It just means I don't know what it was like to live it." Misfire sighed and shuttered his optics, burying his face in Grimlock's chestplates. They caught up to the others just outside of Jazz and Prowl's hab, and the Technobots immediately swarmed Misfire with hugs. Grimlock eyed the walkway suspiciously, something off about the serene look to it - tall crystal trees and soft tingrass, a path made of Earthen bricks that cracked beneath Cybertronian feet. "Everything alright?" Spike asked. Grimlock huffed and shook his head. "Yes," he answered. But he couldn't help but be on edge as they walked up to the door. He did have to admit the brick was an effective early warning system. Out of curiosity, he started counting the number of footsteps he could hear, tapping out the number on his fingertips. One, two, three, five, seven, the humans made barely a sound but they were there, and eleven. Wait. He stopped, turned around, sword drawn. With a yell, Scattershot ran back and started attacking something with his own little sword, leaving streaks of orange paint on - "Argh! I have been vanquished by a ferocious beast!" Mirage's electrodisruptor cut out as he fell to the path, pretending at a mortal wound. Scattershot huffed and pushed up the slipping dinosaur head. "I'm not a ferocious beast! I'm sa! Afterburner's a ferocious beast!" "Radiation breath!" the sparkling in question screeched as he pounced on the former spy, followed quickly by the rest of his brothers. "What are you doing?" a voice called from the door. Mirage was too busy wrestling the sparklings to answer, so Misfire opened his mouth to step in. "It was my idea, Prowler." Misfire shrieked and turned around, unsubspacing a gun to shoot the enemy that had appeared out of thin air. True to form, he missed, the bolt being absorbed by a crystal instead. Prowl surveyed the disheveled party and sighed. "Well, come get your candy." The Technobots shouted with joy and quickly abandoned Mirage for the treats. Jazz reached down to help his former second to his feet and grinned. "You look good covered in younglings." Mirage smiled and put his haughty airs back on like a cloak, patting Jazz' cheek affectionately. "You're getting ahead of yourself, darling." The human adults stared open-mouthed as Mirage sauntered up to the door and greeted Prowl with a kiss before sashaying inside, then turned to Jazz for an explanation, much more shocked at the idea of him and Prowl and Mirage than the idea of three. Jazz simply grinned and shrugged. "Towers courting. What can you do?" "Look!" Lightspeed called, running up with a small toy car. "We get one of these, too!" "Did you say thank you?" Grimlock asked. Lightspeed darted back away to do exactly that. Jazz patted Misfire's arm sheepishly. "Sorry about the scare, man." Misfire did what any Scavenger in their right mind would do and bolted for the goodie bowl. Grimlock chuckled at his conjunx, glad to see he was back to himself. Kup was next on Daniel's list, and he laughed at Scattershot's costume, patting the dino head. "You're gonna grow up to be just like your creator, huh?" "I hope so!" Scattershot said, grabbing handfuls of goodies out of Kup's bowl. Grimlock beamed at his eldest and leaned down for helm pats from Kup for himself, sneaking a goodie or two for himself while he was at it. Springer and Arcee were last on the list, and the Amica pair were waiting out on the stoop of their townhouse, dressed up in costumes themselves, though not as well-made as the ones from Wheeljack. Springer leapt to his feet and pointed imperiously at Afterburner as they walked up. "There can be only one!" Afterburner gave a mighty battle cry, and then the two Godzillas were dueling for supremacy. Grimlock was pleased to notice Afterburner was winning. Arcee laughed as she bounded over, spinning so her skirts flared out. "Isn't this fun, Grim?" Grimlock beamed under his mask at his friend. "What's this?" he asked, pointing to the gauzy fabric. "Just some princess," Arcee said, waving her hand. "She routinely gets captured by a giant lizard, but Springer didn't want to be that giant lizard." She grinned. "She kicks aft in the PVP games, though." Grimlock nodded, not having a clue what she was on about. "Suits you." Misfire grinned at her, bowing playfully. "You do look excellent, m'lady." Arcee giggled. It was disturbingly similar to the slightly maniacal cackle she gave in the middle of combat. "Radiation breath!" Afterburner yelled at the very top of his volume threshold. Springer cried out in mock pain and fell to the ground, defeated. Afterburner put a foot on his back and put his arms up in victory. "I am the one true Godzilla-aaaaa!" Grimlock chuckled, but then gestured the Technobots nearer. "Last stop," he said, "get your candy and give Auntie hugs, and then it's time for bed." There was a chorus of disappointed groans. "That's okay, guys!" Daniel said. "We still get to do this again next year!" Mollified, the Technobots formed an orderly line for goodies and hugs from Arcee, and then trooped on home. "Can I keep my costume on?" Scattershot asked. "Me, too!" Afterburner piped up from where he was trading candy with Nosecone and Lightspeed. Strafe had already shucked off his giant mustache and was working on the boots. Grimlock and Misfire shared a look and then shrugged in unison. "Sure, why not?" Scattershot bounded over to wrap his arms around Grimlock's knees. "Love you." Grimlock smiled and squeezed his creation back before tapping him gently on the shoulder. "Two goodies and then time for recharge." The Technobots rushed to consume their chosen treats and finish up their trading, and then they filed orderly into berth, already pleasantly exhausted by the outing. Grimlock and Misfire each took an end of the row of berths and started giving last hugs and kisses of the night. Meeting back at the door, they looked back over their creations. Grimlock turned off the light and closed the door, and then he pulled his conjunx close for a kiss. "Thank you."

Costumes: Scattershot - Grimlock Strafe - Yosemite Sam Lightspeed - Buzz Lightyear Afterburner - Godzilla Nosecone - Cyclops (X-MEN) Arcee - Princess Peach Springer - Godzilla

[khaoticallykat]

◇The Prince and The Punk◇

Paring: College AU!Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Summary: You and Ransom never seen eye to eye, during one class in high school you let him know how you really feel and from there it was pranks and bullying all on you. Until you finally went to college, forgetting all about Ransom until you happen to encounter him again, this time at his grandfather's, the famous novelist, Harlan Thrombey. With a research paper that needs to be done to make the grade, are you gonna put up with Ransom's shit?

Warnings: language, bullying.

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: omgggg this is my first time actually formatting a story for Tumblr and I just hope y'all like it. There's gonna be smut but that's wayyy later and maybe in a mini chapter. Thanks for reading 💖

Chapter 1. The Writing Writer

~Flashback~

You drummed your finger along the desk, pissed off and annoyed as you watch Ransom Drysdale, yes, him. The richest kid in school and the biggest piece of shit you've ever laid your eyes on. He was actually an alright guy, for the most part, but you you see beyond his pretty blonde hair, blue eyes and fake smile. He was made to look like an angel, one of those sculptures you see in Italy. He was flirting with your friend as all three of you sat at a table in science class, he has a girlfriend but almost every girl he flirted with, including you, but you harshly turned that off. 

"Aw come on Lexi, you're so smart, just help me out?" He blinked his ocean blue eyes at her, she giggled and smiled, about to slide her paper over to him until you grabbed her hand.

"Lexi, don't you think Ransom should have been paying attention to the lesson rather than making goo goo eyes at you?" You asked, gritting your teeth.

"Aw Y/n, I can help him out, it's no big deal." She smiled, you loved her, you really did but even she was falling into the spell of Ransom.

"Yeah Y/n. She doesn't mind, but yet," he looked over at you, it sparked more a hatred in you, "yet you, seem to really mind me? What is it? You like me don't you? Want me all to yourself?" 

You sighed, giving him a deadpan expression, "I rather eat razors and then shit them out, you're shitty and annoying and a fake." His smile dropped, Lexi covered her mouth, either in shock or to stifle a laugh. "You act like you're such a king here, having everyone bend to your whim but who are you really? You're a trust fund playboy and I really hope you don't breed, we already have enough shitheads like you in the world."

Everyone in the room was looking at you, clearly you weren't aware of your tone, even the teacher looked shocked.

But Ransom, deep down he should have hated you, but instead, he laughed. He laughed so loud and hard that his was was beet red and tears came down. 

"Wow," he chuckled, catching his breath, "fuck you." 

From then senior year was filled with Ransom knocking books out of your hand, spilling various liquids on you, thankfully it was tea, water or coffee, he even went as far as cling wrapping your car before homecoming started. You paid him no mind though, you were really good at that, ignoring him and going on about your day, your mom always said that children act out when they want attention and that was one thing you would never give him.  He noticed just how much you really didn't care for him, it made him angry, he spent almost every day finding something to inconvenience you and you just brushed him off like dust. 

He cornered you in a back room in the photo lab one day after school, you were cleaning up and helping out when the Jock pushed you in a closet, closing the door behind him. 

"Oh great. My favorite person." You rolled your eyes, "get out of my way, I have stuff to do."

"You're not going anywhere," He growled, he smelled of sweat and dirt, he must have came from training. "You and I need to talk."

You sighed, shifting in the tight space that Ransom took up, "well I'm listening, but hurry up you stink." 

"You're really good at ignoring me, just wondering how and why?"

"You mean how haven't I giving in to your antics? Because you're a child, you act like one and I don't pay attention to boys that act like children," You heard him punch the wall next to you, "just let it go Hugh, sometimes you can't get all the girls to suck you off." 

You smirked and ducked under his arm, opening the closet door to see Ransom's two friends, Sam and James sitting on the desk across from the closet. They made eye contact with and quickly looked away, it was clear that they were uncomfortable with the situation. You packed your bag and left, leaving Ransom in the closet to deal with the fact that you just called him by his first name. 

"You alright in there man? What'd she do, spit on ya?" James called from the desk.

Sam got up and dragged him out, "come on, don't let some chick ruin the rest of your senior year, after this, we got college girls to look at."

"You're right," Ransom laughed, "I can't fucking wait." 

~Present~

After high school, you never saw Ransom, he was basically out of sight, out of mind. College was rolling around and you picked your major of psychology, you were lucky that the town had a college and it was easy to get into. You spent your first few months taking the classes required and studying, your teacher reminded you that the final paper was due months from now, to write a report on a literary author of the time. They assigned everyone an author, when your name came up, you got the author, Harlan Thrombey. The last name rung a bell in your head, but you couldn't tell why. Leaving class you notice many people were in the college colors. Right, football season. You saw some sororities gathered in the parking lot cheering, you didn't want to be part of any of them. You were almost to your car when you remembered why the last name Thrombey sounded so familiar. 

Ransom Drysdale was on the back of a pickup cheering and laughing with other guys in their football jerseys, he soon forgot about you after high school. But through his dark, gold rim glasses, he saw you, the same as ever, he was really shocked to see that you even stayed in town, you were really smart, not that he would admit it. Stepping off the back of the pick up, he made his way towards you, you were walking at a fast pace, trying to get to your car before he could catch up and torment you. Ransom saw you get in your little grey Volkswagen and slam the door, locking it behind you. The engine stalled a few times before it finally came to life. Ransom was just getting to your car when you quickly pulled out, almost hitting him. You paid no attention to the speed until you reached the first green light off campus. Taking a deep breath, you looked in your rear view and chuckled, it was childish, but you were glad to get away.

Thankfully it was Friday and you wouldn't see him until Monday, throwing your bag on the floor, you sat at your desk fuming. If all places, why does Ransom Drysdale have to be in the same college as you? You opened your laptop and began looking up Harlan Thrombey, he thankfully had an email, writing out who you were, the nature of your email and a few other things, you clicked the 'send' button and waited. 

Later that evening while you were reading, your phone pinged, showing you that there was an email from Harlan. He wrote back that he would be glad to have you over to study his work for your research paper and asked if you could come over Saturday. Doing a small dance of happiness in your room, you replied that you'll be there at noon. 

The next morning you wore something that would look rather business casual, most of your clothing was on the darker side so it was easier to match items and stopped in town at the local donut shop before heading to Harlan's. Pulling up you saw a white BMW, the kind that was vintage, it probably ran better than your car double checking your bag once more for your notebook, tablet and charger, you locked your car and walked up to the brick manor. The place was absolutely gorgeous as you took a moment to wonder what the inside would look like. Suddenly two blurs came running up to you barking and sniffing, one was a black lab and the other a German shepherd. They both sat down and looked at the box of donuts you were carrying. 

"Sorry, I didn't get anything for you," you frowned, slowly backing towards the steps, "maybe next time." 

You rung the doorbell and waited, the dogs followed you and waited by you patiently with their tails wagging. A young woman opened the door, she looked about your age with dark brown hair and bright eyes, "you must be y/n," she smiled, the dogs rushing in almost knocking her over, "Harlan told me you were coming, I'm his nurse, Marta." She lead you into the house which wasn't bare in any area, there were decorations on covering the walls, either with paintings, books, it some strange artifacts. You followed her to the library where you saw Harlan, all grey hair but eyes were full of life. 

"Ah, you must be Y/n," he said, turning his attention away from a man that sat in a chair, facing away from you, "I was just talking to my grandson about you, how he should be doing his homework but instead, he's talking of football and girls." 

"It's nice to meet you mr. Thrombey," you smiled, walking over to him, "I brought donuts." 

The man in the chair stood up, "I know that voice," he turned around, same damn smirk on his face like it was permanent, "ah, of course it's you, my favorite person."

God damned Ransom Drysdale.

You looked like a deer in head lights, "what the hell are you doing here?" You asked, taking a step back.

"Visiting my grandpa?" He said, "bring those donuts over here, I'm starving." 

You thought it was a sick joke, but you can see it, the tiny resemblance between Ransom and Harlan. But here you are, trapped in a house with you high school bully. He made his way over to you and opened the box, he was still the same, no respect for personal space. 

"I saw you yesterday, but you left," he took one of the chocolate covered ones, "me and you got a lot of catching up to do." 

[rena-rain]

The Shortcut Home ch. 1

I totally forgot to post this on tumblr! It’s also posted on my AO3 under rainforestgeek.

“Marinette!” Alya wrapped her roommate in her arms as soon as she came through the door. “Are you okay? Are you still feeling sick?”

Marinette nodded. She’d been having dinner at her parents’ house, but was hardly there for fifteen minutes before she vomited in the kitchen sink. The smells emanating from the dining table had sent her stomach into a mutinous upheaval even though she normally loved her parents’ cooking. They’d wanted her to stay to take care of her, but settled for escorting her back to her and Alya’s apartment. “Just a little nauseous. Did you get my text?”

Alya pulled away and handed her a paper bag. “I got you three just in case. You know I have to grill you about this, right?”

“I’d expect nothing less,” Marinette sighed. “Just please get me something to drink first.”

Ten minutes later, Marinette poured herself her second glass of orange juice while Alya sat frozen on the couch.

“You’ve been sleeping. With Adrien.”

“Yes.”

“Adrien Agreste has been having sex with you. And you didn’t tell me?”

“We’re not together, Alya.”

“That’s what I don’t get. I never took that boy to be a fuck buddies type.”

Marinette cringed at the term. Yes, she and Adrien were having sex alongside their platonic relationship. But it sounded too crass. Too casual for their close relationship, lack of romance aside.

She got up. “I need to pee.”

“Don’t forget the tests!”

 “Okay, but this one says it’s negative?”

Alya rubbed her back. “False negatives happen, Mari. False positives don’t. These two are positive you’ve got a mini-Agreste in your belly.”

Marinette groaned and left the bathroom. She flopped face-down onto the couch. “How – ”

“If you say ‘how did this happen’ I’ll smack you with this pillow.”

“Alya, how am I going to tell Adrien?”

Alya sat down, Marinette flipping over to rest her head on her best friend’s lap. Alya stroked her silky black hair contemplatively. “Let’s take this one thing at a time. When was the first day of your last period.”

Marinette counted in her head. “Nine weeks and five days ago.”

“Okay. Do you want to have a baby? Because you have two weeks to decide.”

Marinette’s immediate thought was yes. She’d always wanted children and now she had the chance to have Adrien’s child. Her infatuation may have died down over the years, but no matter what, she did love him.

But was she prepared to be a single mother? She and Alya had to share an apartment just to avoid living paycheck to paycheck. Marinette’s savings weren’t impressive, and that’s money she’d been saving to open her own boutique someday. Yes, she wanted kids, but this was risking her dream career. She still had plenty of time to have children.

She peered up at Alya. “I don’t know if I’m ready. Do you think I would make a good mom?”

Alya grinned at her. “Girl, you’d be an amazing mom. Nobody’s ever ready for a baby, that doesn’t mean you’d be a bad parent. But it is your decision and you have no obligation to tell Adrien before you make it.”

“I think I need a few days to think about it. God, I wish I could have some wine.”

“I could drink two glasses tonight if it makes you feel better.”

Marinette laughed. “That actually makes it worse.”

--

Nino met his girlfriend at their favorite café. The weather was nice, the sun out and only slightly chilly. He greeted her with a kiss and sat down across from her.

“Babe, I just wanna start out with saying I wasn’t doing anything weird. I accidentally kicked the trash can over.”

“Why would I think that’s weird? It was an accident right?”

“Yes, totally, 100%! So I did not mean to look at anything private, I was just cleaning it up, and…”

Alya touched her boyfriend’s cheek. “Nino, what’s going on?”

“Are you pregnant?” he blurted. Both of their eyes went wide. Nino rushed, “I swear I’m not trying to corner you or anything! I saw a couple positive tests when I was cleaning up the trash in your bathroom, and I couldn’t not tell you that I saw them, so…are you pregnant?”

Alya sighed and looked around the café. She leaned close and lowered her voice. “I’m not pregnant. Now I need you to promise me you’ll keep this under your hat. The tests weren’t mine.”

Nino gasped. Alya dove to put both hands over his mouth, accidentally knocking over a glass of water. “Ugh! Dang it. You don’t say a word or make a sound, okay? Marinette’s not ready to tell anybody yet and I don’t even know if she’s keeping it so you’re sworn to silence.”

Nino helped Alya mop up the water with a pile of napkins. “Of course, I’d never betray her like that. Just gotta, like, process for a minute.”

The waiter came out to take their order, effectively ending the conversation.

--

A knock came from the front door. Adrien told Plagg to hide before opening it to reveal a very anxious-looking Marinette. Her eyes darted to and away from his face rapid-fire, and she fiddled with her purse’s shoulder strap. “Marinette? Are you all right?”

“I – ” Her voice broke. She took a shuddering breath. “I wasn’t sure if I should tell you or if I wanted to tell you but I haven’t decided anything yet, I really need to talk to somebody and I want to talk to you – this is big, but I need to talk to you as my friend right now.”

Adrien took her hand and coaxed her inside, closing the door behind her. He pulled her into a hug. She buried her face in his neck, clinging to him tight, so he hitched both arms around her back to bring her as close as possible. He felt like he was absorbing her anxiety like a sponge, making his own blood jitter along with her. “Whatever it is, it’s okay. I’m here for you.”

Marinette lifted her lips to his ear. She murmured two soft words to him.

He froze for a moment. They were still hugging, so hopefully she didn’t notice his shock. Adrien gathered himself, gently untangled their limbs, and held her face to look in her eyes. “Why don’t you go sit down, okay? I’ll make us some tea.”

She nodded. He went to the kitchen and filled up the water heater. While he waited for it to boil, he leaned against the fridge, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do.

Marinette was pregnant. He’d gotten her pregnant. She was probably here to talk about whether or not to stay pregnant. Oh god, his father was going to kill him.

Hold your horses there, kid, he told himself in a mental voice that sounded alarmingly like Plagg. Gabriel doesn’t have to know if she decides not to keep it.

Adrien pushed the thought aside. His father didn’t matter right now; he’d burn that bridge when he got to it. Right now, his pregnant friend needed his support.

And her tea, he realized when he heard the water heater beeping. Adrien prepared and poured two steaming mugs and reminded himself that while he was culpable in creating this situation, Marinette had a lot more at stake here.

When he came back to the living room, Marinette had a ball of yarn out and was crocheting in the round. He was glad she’d brought something to do with her hands. It seemed to help keep her nerves in check. She set the project aside when he handed her the cup and took a sip. Adrien sat down on the couch next to her.

They drank in silence for a minute, neither sure how to broach the subject.

Finally, Adrien gathered his nerve. “So, how long have you known?”

“Four days. I’m about ten weeks along.”

“Okay. You…you said you wanted to talk about it?”

She puffed out a sigh through her teeth. “I’ve been trying to decide if I should keep it or abort it. I tried talking to Alya about it, but she’s so stuck on not influencing my choice that she just refuses to give any advice. But I need to talk through it.”

Adrien drank a hot sip of tea, letting himself think. “Thank you for trusting me. Let’s start with what you’ve been thinking. Feel free to word vomit.”

And word vomit she did. Marinette babbled about her career, her body changing, not being ready to take care of a kid, the money she didn’t have, the fact she wasn’t married – all in no particular order. Her stream of consciousness sentences ran together, making Adrien focus hard on keeping track of what she said.

Once she’d run out of breath, he asked the question she hadn’t addressed at all.

“Do you have any ethical issues with terminating the pregnancy?”

Marinette furrowed her brows. “Do you?”

“That’s not what I asked.” Adrien didn’t love the idea, but he’d thought a lot about what it’d be like to grow a human inside him and then push it out of his ass, so yeah, he figured it was okay to say no to anything or anyone using your body as a house-slash-IV bag.

(Plagg says he’s too morbidly curious for his own good. Plagg doesn’t get to judge, he’s a cat and once caused a mass extinction.)

Marinette looked him straight in the eye. “No, I don’t.”

Adrien chose his next words carefully. “If money and single parenthood are your main concerns, you’re not alone. I’m here, I have a good job, and a trust fund that’s just gathering dust. Only if you want to. Whichever you decide, I’m all in.”

He took her free hand. “We’re a team. I promise.”

The words rang jarringly in both of their ears with a familiarity that didn’t belong in this context.

She smiled at him. “That was quite a speech.”

“Yeah, that came out cornier than I intended. I meant it, though.”

“What are you trying to say, Adrien?”

“I’m saying it’s not a matter of what we can do. It’s about what you want to do. You don’t have to give up your dreams for this.” He gazed at Marinette’s face, wished he could read her better. “Do you feel ready for a kid?”

“I feel scared,” she said quietly.

“Me, too.”

“But I…I think I want to. But only if you commit to being a dad.”

Adrien’s heart pounded. “Like I said, Marinette, I’m all in.”

She nodded and stood, wrapping up her yarn and putting it in her bag. “I don’t think I should decide tonight. I’ll tell you by the end of the day tomorrow.”

He stood as well to see her out. “Good idea. Sleep on it, take your time. I’ll just be here freaking out where you can’t see me.”

Marinette let out a little laugh. Her eyes crinkled adorably. “Thank you, for talking with me. And for the tea.”

“Do you want to stay over?” Adrien wasn’t sure what possessed him to ask that without thinking. Was that inappropriate? Did their relationship change after she got pregnant? Did she think he meant he wanted to have sex? Was it okay to ask your pregnant friend with benefits to sleep over after an emotionally draining conversation? Okay, come to think of it, that does sound kind of suspect.

“I’m too nauseated to fool around tonight.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean you can’t stay over.”

Marinette gave him a long, searching look. He wondered what she was looking for. He wondered if it was there. “I should go back to my apartment. Where my pajamas and toothbrush are. Goodnight, Adrien.”

They both ignored the fact that he kept a toothbrush for her here anyway, and she’d slept in his clothes more than once.

--

Plagg was being insufferable. “Baker girl’s got a bun in the oven!”

“You’re not funny, Plagg.”

“Screw you, I’m hilarious. It’s not my fault you decided to mix your milk with her eggs.”

Adrien groaned. “You’re really not funny, Plagg.”

--

Marinette fiddled with a lock of hair while the dial tone sounded in her ear.

“Mari?”

“I’m going to have the baby.” All at once. Ripped off the bandage. Besides, Adrien had to know why she was calling him, and he was surprisingly okay with when she cut past the pleasantries.

There was a pause. “Okay. I should tell my father soon.”

“My parents, too. Maybe we should have those conversations alone, so my mom and dad don’t grill you about not being in a relationship.

“Am I a dead man?”

“I’ll throw my body in front of yours. It’ll be better than a bullet-proof vest.”

“Is it too much to ask you to tell my father with me? I know he’ll stay calm, just…”

“Cold,” Marinette finished. She should’ve known Adrien would want emotional support when he told his dad he was about to become a young, unmarried parent. “Of course I can. Just tell me when.”

“Thanks. Have you gotten a doctor’s appointment yet?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. She was looking at six to seven more months of this fretting.

Chapter 2

Ko-fi

[foulsouls]

My blood is in your veins 18+

Lost boys AU ( sorta? Kinda? It’s vampires and hunters idk haha!! ) featuring all your fav Demon slayer characters! I do not intend to post the full fic on tumblr because it will be long as hell and I am lazy! 

I’m going to be posting the first chapter here just to test the waters hehe! If you like to read the full fic you can find it on AO3! ( Under the same name of course! Also I’m ushisushi over there! ) My laptop will not let me do links GUYGFUHGHGHGBH!!! Anyways, please enjoy!! 

                                       Chapter 1 HOME On the road again. 

It feels like every other month is started with yet another surprise road trip across the country, leaving behind any friends you may have had in whatever tiny backwater town you happened to land in. Any sane person would’ve given up on making friends with this lifestyle but you weren’t exactly known for being the giving up type. 

Your ever changing living arrangements were due to your older brother’s “Job”. The very same job that he refuses to tell you or your younger brother anything about. You’d tried a million times to get any info from him but unfortunately Kyojuro was just as stubborn, if not more, than you. Poor Senjuro found himself the piggy in the middle when you and Kyo would get into your bi-monthly “What is your job!?” arguments, which always led to you getting the horribly intimidating “We’re not talking about this again” look from your older brother, and that ended with you silently fuming for half the trip and ignoring poor Sen’s attempts at trying to make you laugh. 

You didn’t mean to be such a hard head, but no one could deny that being made to pack up your life several times in a year and move to some new town off the beaten track and have to build something new again would be enough to make anyone a  teensy bit grumpy! Especially since you were almost never given a solid answer as to why any of this was necessary, you felt you were allowed a little tantrum here and there. Although, you also had to admit that your little spats had increased a great deal over the last few months. Kyo barely gave you enough time to figure out where the damn toilet was in your new house before he decided you needed to pack up and head out once again. 

 Again you found yourself haughtily staring out the car window at the scenery rapidly speeding by, having just finished your latest argument with Kyo. Senjuro was relaying a funny story about waking up in the middle of the night and getting lost in the house you had been living in just a few hours ago, his laugh was cute but obviously forced as he came to the conclusion of his story and nobody else had joined in on the laughter. You snuck a glance in kyojuro’s direction but of course his posture and expression gave nothing away, despite having had a verbal tiff just a few minutes ago with you. Your brother was always so disciplined, his body language, his speech and even the way he ate his food was all heavily practised. He was a good man who loved you and Senjuro more than anything, even though you weren’t related by blood to the two of them you had never felt like you didn’t belong.  

Maybe you should apologize first this time? It was always you that started the arguments but Kyojuro was always the first to say sorry. You realize you’ve completely zoned out when you hear Kyo pointedly clear his throat and catch his eye as he gives you a quick glance. You’ve been staring at him this whole time, probably giving him a particularly sour expression judging by the furrow of his brows. You fumble over the words in your head,  your throat suddenly incredibly dry. You open and close your mouth several times, making stupid little sounds as you go, gesturing like a madman to boot! GOD! Why was being the bigger person so embarrassing?   

Calming your breathing you sit up straight in your seat, miming the way your breath entered and exited your lungs,mentally cheering yourself on, just say the words! I! am! sorry!  

You chant the words over and over again like a mantra in your mind. 

Kyojuro waits patiently for you to gather yourself, a small amused smirk on his face. He was more mature than you by far but seeing you flounder like that was still incredibly funny.  He watched you square your shoulders and he knew right when that same determined look that crossed your face before you did something you weren't supposed to graced your features that you were ready to say whatever it was you wanted to say.  

“Kyo I’m-” 

“Sorry?” he finished for you. 

The look of pure shock on your face was enough to send Kyojuro into a fit of laughter. You felt your cheeks burn with shame as he continued to laugh and occasionally snort, of course that ass knew exactly what you were going to say and in a big brotherly fashion, OF COURSE he’d cut you off and then promptly laugh at your stupid face. His laugh was always so hearty and full of amusement, you couldn’t help but crack a smile too. When Kyojuro turned to you again you could see small tears in his eyes, he gave you his signature big bro smile before reaching over and ruffling your hair, much to your dismay.  

 “Ugh don’t ruin my hair damn you!” you laugh, shoving away his hand. 

“Sorry kit, you’re too easy to read sometimes.” Kyojuro chuckles at the way you puff your cheeks and pout at him.  

“Y-yeah whatever…..look I really am sorry for being annoying……..again.” you mutter, barely loud enough for him to hear. 

Kyojuro sighs and wipes his eyes, you look to him and see something you thought to be damn near impossible, his shoulders are slightly slumped. The smile on his face when he looks to you is sad, even his eyes seem to have lost nearly all the amusement they held mere moments ago.

Now it seems it’s his turn to fumble for words as he glares at the road in front of you through the windshield. 

“Kit…..Senjuro…” 

Ah, the serious big brother voice. You cast a backwards look at Sen, who appears equally perturbed by Kyojuro’s sudden change in demeanour. 

“I know this is a pain in the ass for the both of you, I do,” he continues, staring intently at the highway that seemed to stretch on forever into the horizon, “but just know that one day I’ll be able to tell you guys everything and…”. 

Kyo sighs heavily once again, it’s pretty clear that he isn’t going to continue what he was saying but you can’t help but lean in a little. It’s always so strange to see someone you look up to appear so ...fragile. Right now, Kyojuro looks like a man beaten down by the world  instead of the spry 27 year old you know he is. Kyo spares one last tired smile in your direction,when he turns back to the road  it's like the tired old man is gone and your bright, ever enthusiastic big brother is back. 

“Welp! Enough of that! Look we’re almost there, I can see the ocean!”  

Senjuro practically dives out of his seatbelt to stick his head between the two front seats and peer through the windshield. 

“Oh!! I see it too! Kit look! Look!” Sen’s excitement and incessant patting of your shoulder shakes you from your thoughts. 

Through the dust and bug guts you can make out the tiniest hint of a shoreline and beyond that is the gorgeous blue of the ocean. Senjuro’s small hand on your shoulder gives you a gentle squeeze and when you turn your head to look at him he gives an adorable little smile. Poor boy, he really is the piggy in the middle here but he’s trying his best. 

You let your gaze wander back to the waves, slowly crashing in the distance, you can’t hear them yet but you feel something strangely familiar about this scene before you.

Home.  

I’m home.  

Something about those words send a chill up your spine but you dismiss it, at least for now. Right now it was time to say hello to your new little town and mentally prepare yourself for whatever this little corner of the world had in store for you. 

Oh boy does this little town have something in store for you.  

[prussiasboxerbriefs]

me yelling about angel dust and why he’s not a bad character

regarding angel: with gay rep we get either child predator from the homophobic stereotype corner of the ring or soft uwu gay boy from the tumblr corner. I cannot even BEGIN to tell you how fucking refreshing it is to see a gay guy that’s not “soft” but still framed as a desirable, cool protagonist.

@/the-spider-in-the-kinky-boots made a post about this–it’s so so so nice to see him being open about his sexuality in an environment that LETS him.

with regards to him being predatory: i have only seen the pilot and a few animatics. what I’ve gathered from those is that he’s just kind of a smart-ass and likes making sex jokes? he lives in hell. they ALL live in hell. in real life that would fall under like consent problems and would be really annoying. but they live in hell so i feel like that’s a non-issue. also his fight scene with sir pentious made me laugh

he feels like a vent character, and I think that’s why a lot of people either connect strongly with him or think he’s a fucked-up caricature. one of the main themes of this show is extremes. to me he comes across as the extreme of that feeling where you believe your queerness makes you bad and say, “fuck it, guess i’ll just be bad then.” if you’ve been told your whole life that an inherent, harmless part of you makes you a demon, one coping strategy is to go be evil because at least you’re happy? but that only works for so long. and I think that’s where his signing into the hotel and “rehab” comes in–him realizing that his queerness isn’t a sin and that he can live a happy life without trying to suppress that part of him OR coping in extremely destructive ways.

also, watching a character live out the “fantasy” of self-medication is a way of living vicariously through them, and it makes the urge to do it in real life, at least for me, lessen for a while. 

he is queer and some people give him a hard time about it and he has the license to go absolutely apeshit with no consequences. talk about living vicariously

which leads me into power structures: he’s powerful. he’s in control (not with regards to Valentino, but ex. during the turf war). he does bad things and doesn’t receive punishment because the show’s creators aren’t looking for an excuse to punch the gay guy. how many shows have a queer character do something terrible just so they can beat the shit out of them and then say they deserved it?

did you guys catch when alastor referred to him as “effeminate” because it was an objective assessment and not something he saw as disgusting…did you catch that……..that got me

like what do i want MORE. than to be referred to as an “effeminate fellow” in a non-sarcastic, goodwilled manner. i can’t think of anything.

the VALIDATION

in general, a lot of people seem to be bothered by the blatant sexuality and innuendo in hazbin hotel? i’m pretty sure a key part of this project is that the creators get to be lewd, because it’s fun, through their preferred medium (which is either used exclusively for children’s media or stylized to be butt-ugly). if the sexuality in the show bothers you, then don’t watch it–it’s certainly not intended for young audiences, and, like my friend said when i was talking to them about this–not everything has to be baby proof!!!

that said! the characters here and their “sins” are obviously based on a conservative idea of what gets you sent to Christian hell. and I wonder if the implication that sex work or suffering from addiction are sinful and immoral is going to be challenged.

the other thing is that the story isn’t done. we haven’t seen any of the character’s redemption arcs, and that means most of the show’s meaning and stance on the questions it raises hasn’t been defined yet. a story where every character is unproblematic from the very beginning is not a particularly compelling story because there’s nowhere left for them to go except down in terms of character development (which is absolutely crucial). and y'all wouldn’t like THAT direction either bc then the canonically gay character gets a sad ending. I don’t want that either. but if you want a character that represents you, they’re gonna have to develop throughout the plot somehow, otherwise there is no story to tell.

another reason why I like angel is that he has many of the problems/anxieties that bother me, and I want to see him overcome them. that’s representation.

so. sir pentious.

his egg henchmen are so dumb i love them

also love that angel’s humor bounces directly off of him. there’s probably some like mockery of autistic traits hiding in there or whatever but i’m autistic and i don’t want to think about it too much bc he’s funny and i love him

great character design!!! his hair/cape thing is so cool (yes i know it’s like the hood of a snake)

why “serpentious”. that’s not a real word why not “sir pentine” or something

felt like an idiot spelling “surpentious” five different ways in the merriam-webster search bar before realizing the first part of his name is “serpent” and the last part is random adjectival suffix

[glowwormsmith]

Joseph’s Birthday Bash

Uh-oh, sisters! You think the Far Cry 5 Birthday Bash was over? When I told my boyfriend about the event, he decided to make a special gift for me. I loved it. He also gave me full permission to share this on Tumblr, so to celebrate the last day of March, here is my boyfriend’s gift to the Far Cry 5 fandom. God help us all.

This is also unedited with only minor grammatical changes to make it read better. Enjoy the fic~

Summary: It’s Joseph’s birthday and everyone in Hope County is invited. Things can only go well from here.

Warning: This is a crack fic. Expect OOC-ness (though he says it’s an accurate portrayal of all the characters), general silliness, fourth-wall breaking, off-color jokes, and anything else associated with a humor/crack fic. If anything needs to be tagged, let me know.

 AN: In truth, I know very little about Far Cry 5.

Joseph's Birthday Bash

           It was a clear and sunny day at the Project of Eden's Gate compound, colloquially known as “The Father's Church.” As opposed to the compound’s usual stark and austere look, today it was vibrant; the fence that was torn open from a recent helicopter crash was fixed, and what looked to be white moonflowers were tied into every single link of every chain. Even the sign that on any other day of the year proudly displayed “Project at Eden's Gate” was covered up with a black tarp that instead was spray-painted to say “Happy Birthday!”

           Truly, it was a surreal site.

           “Oooh, it's perfect!” A young woman in a white frilly dress exclaimed, as she took in her handiwork. “Now we just have to finish the outside of the church! Go on, mush!”

           In response, the ragtag group of strangely-dressed bald men who were the ones actually tying the flowers into the chain link fence turned to give a glassy-eyed stare to their commander.

           “Mush.” She repeated, snapping her fingers and pointing to the church.

           Sluggishly, the men picked up their basket of flowers and headed to the church.

           “Ah, Faith.” A long-suffering sigh came from just behind the gate as a man with a perfectly coiffed beard and a three-hundred-dollar coat stepped through. “As usual, you're truly an inspiration to observe. I wish I could be half as sympathetic to those in my region.”

           “John!” The aforementioned Faith beamed at the new arrival. “As usual, you're acting like a posh bitch!”

           John's head jerked back slightly at her bluntness and he was just about to retort, until another, much larger man came and put his hand on his shoulder.

           “Enough.” The large redhead grunted “Don't the two of you start. It's insufferable.”

           “Wow!” Faith said with a sing-song lilt. “‘Insufferable?’ Isn't that a little too many syllables for you, jarhead?”

           Jarhead gazed at her and gave an unimpressed grunt.

           “Really, would it kill you to act a little more ladylike?” John asked the girl. “This is why you're not in the Christmas photos.”

           “This is why you’re not--” She mimicked.

           “Really. Stop.” Jarhead said. “Joseph's going to be here soon. You know how he gets about the two of you bickering. I'd rather not hear it for once.”

           “Sorry, brother,” John mumbled.

           “Sorry, brother~” Faith mimicked, to everyone's distaste.

           “Rachel.” Jarhead warned, making her grimace slightly. “Stop.”

           Faith stuck out her tongue at him for a brief moment, then turned her head towards the church and fell silent. Suddenly, a small cloud of dust kicked up from one of the cliffs above them accompanied by a hum of an engine.

           “He's here.”

           A Jeep with tinted-black windows came into view from over the cliff, driving down into the gated compound. In moments it pulled unto the gate right in front of the three siblings. The driver's side door opened and out stepped a man who practically glowed with an enlightened aura. This was the most notable man in Hope County, Joseph Seed.

           He was also wearing a blindfold.

           “Jesus H. Christ!” Jarhead barked. “Where you driving that thing blindfolded!”

           “Jacob, my brother!” Joseph greeted, turning almost (but not quite) to face where Jacob was and spreading his arms. “My escorts told me that I had to wear this, otherwise I'd spoil the surprise.”

           “Your escorts were supposed to drive!” Jacob growled, looking towards two men in red balaclavas who stepped out of the passenger and rear seats, respectively. “I am disappointed.”

           “B-but...” One of the strangely dressed men stuttered out. “The Father--he wanted to drive!”

           “Blindfolded?”

           “Now, Jacob.” The still-blindfolded Father consoled, patting his brother on the shoulder. “It's like John 9:25 says, ‘I was blind, and now I can see!’.”

           “It's not.” Jacob sighed. “You still have that thing on.”

           “You never were the most spiritual, brother.”

           “Oh for--” The tall ginger ran his hand down his face. “Can we just get on with this whole thing?”

           “I dunno,” Faith said, twirling a flower in between her fingers. “This is kinda fun to watch.”

           “No, don't listen to her.” John wheedled his way between his two brothers and grabbed Joseph by his bicep. “Come, Brother, let us show you what we prepared!”

           Ignoring the disapproving stares from pretty much everybody, John sidled up to his brother, in a way that one could say was unnervingly close even for siblings, and led him into the compound. Stopping just before the church, John held his breath before motioning for his siblings and the followers to gather around and quickly ripped off Joseph's blindfold.

           “Surprise!” Everyone hollered. “Happy birthday, Father!”

           Joseph serenely took in the whole event, gazing at his church, defaced by clumsily pasted on moonflowers behind his piss-tinted aviators.

           “Were you wearing your glasses under your blindfold?” Jacob asked, stunned by his brother's dedication to fashion.

           “Well, Brother?!” John ignored his favorite brother's apparent psychosis. “Isn't this a wonderful surprise?”

           “It is no surprise, my children.” Joseph smiled back at all his followers, eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. His visage was that of one who has truly reached enlightenment. “For I have foreseen this.”

           “D'Ohhhhh!” his followers cried, shuffling their feet, as Faith nodded sagely, completely eating it up, and John looked crushed.

           “Of course you did,” Jacob sighed, wondering why he spent any time with his family.

           “Now, John.” The Father gazed around the decorated compound and nodded his head before turning and beckoning to his younger brother. “Bring me your Devil Box.”

           “My what?”

           “Your devil box,” Joseph said, as if he was talking to a small child. “Which you use to broadcast the past onto other, squarer devil boxes.”

           John looked as if he was about to have a conniption. The rest of the followers weren't much better.

           “Your camera,” Jacob grunted.

           “Oh!” John exclaimed. “But why, Joseph?”

           “Why John, today is the birthday of our Savior,” The Father chided. “Me. Obviously today should be a day of armistice and coming together.”

           “No,” Jacob interjected, already seeing where this was going.

           “Therefore, I suggest--”

           “No.”

           “--That we invite--”

           “Seriously. This is dumb.”

           “--The deputies and their friends!”

           “Joseph.”

           “Worry not, my dear brother, things are going as foreseen.” Joseph settled the matter with a deft hand and turned to his other siblings. “John, Faith, we must prepare for our guests.”

           “As the Father decrees!” Faith screeched, turning to her homeless-looking followers who gave their agreement with a cacophony of inhuman moans.

 Elsewhere

           The town of Fall's End had seen a major downsizing since the Project at Eden's Gate had started. While it was never what would be described as a “booming town,” it had a scattered few stores with a surprising variety of goods, tailored to the unique individuals that lived in Hope County. Now all stores were closed but two: a bar called the Spread Eagle, and a hardware shop that sold guns.

           It was unfortunate for the town of Fall's End that even the followers of the Project at Eden's Gate couldn't rid them of their town idiot, though.

           “DEPUTY!” A grown man with a roughshod beard and a stylized American flag shirt shouted, as he waved his hands and ran down an empty street. “DEPUTY!”

           His shouting continued until he entered the Spread Eagle.

           “DEPUTY!”

           “Hurk!” The bartender, a blonde woman, shouted back as she cleaned her glasses with a wet rag. “Quiet down! You're bothering my customers!”

           “Oh! Hey man, sorry,” Hurk said, looking around at the scattered few patrons giving him the stink-eye from over their mugs. “I was just looking for—OH, THERE YOU ARE!”

           “Hurk!” the bartender threatened.

           “Oh, sorry, man.” The town idiot nodded back again, then proceeded to walk towards a patron who was doing their best to not look at him. “Hey, man, where have you been? I've been calling your name for the last hour!”

           The person Hurk was addressing was an iconic figure of Hope County, Deputy Rook. The deputy was, even by Hope County's standards, a complete and hopeless weirdo. They were a small person, standing maybe 5'7”, and not a single person besides their parents probably knew their gender.

           Why one might ask? Because Deputy Rook always wore some kind of weird mask on their head. Be it a big chicken mask, an alien mask, or even what they were wearing today, a gigantic eyeball mask. No one truly knew what Rook's face looked like. The deputy even wore a big horse mask to their police academy graduation, which was probably the reason they were assigned to this podunk town.

           Even more than that, they were slight of build, had shaved and waxed legs, and never spoke. Ever.

           “Hey man, have you seen the TV?” Hurk questioned Deputy Rook, who in response continued to give the impression of not looking at Hurk (which was doubly impressive, given that they were wearing a gigantic eyeball on their head) and poured their beer into the cornea of their mask.

           As expected, it didn't go into the mask and splashed everywhere.

           “Yeah? That's cool, man. But seriously, you should check it out,” Hurk continued, seemingly oblivious of Rook's indifference. “HEY, MARY MAY!”

           “Hurk. I'm going to kick you out,” the bartender countered.

           “DON'T BE LIKE THAT, MAN! JUST TURN THE TV ON TO CHANNEL 3!!”            “Hurk, the only channel we get anymore is channel 3,” Mary May sighed, as she picked up the dusty TV remote from behind the bar and turned on the small CRT that they used in the past to watch the Cougar's baseball games. “You can just say ‘turn on the TV’.”

           “WILL DO, PRETTY LADY!” Hurk screamed conversationally, as he turned back to the Deputy. “Hey man, look, it's Joseph.”

           The deputy quickly glanced up to see that, indeed, on the TV was Joseph Seed. They then got up, turned their bar stool around and continued to splash their beer around.

           “Greetings, my children,” TV Joseph spoke, static slightly modulating his voice into a deeper, more seductive tone. “I am broadcasting this message to give good tidings to you all!”

           “Oh man, I don't know what that means, but it sounds sinister, don't it?!” Hurk questioned the Deputy, who raised a finger in the air to silence him.

           Mary Mae poured them a shot glass of clear liquid, which they proceeded to throw all over their mask.

           “Yeah, I like the liquor too.” Hurk nodded.

           “Today marks the day of the birth of your Savior.” TV Joseph looked over his piss-goggles for a brief moment “Me.”

           “What an asshole.” Mary May came to the general consensus as she poured herself a shot glass of clear liquid and proceeded to throw it back.

           “As such, today will be a day of peace!” The camera zoomed out to show the entirety of the followers of the Project at Eden’s Gate crowded around what looked to be Joseph's church, but it was covered in badly placed flowers. “I invite you all to my church to partake in the merriment. I hope to see you all there!”

           TV Joseph lowered his aviators again. “Especially you, Lamb of God.”

           “Huh, wonder who he was talking about.” Hurk scratched his head as the recording abruptly cut off and repeated itself a moment later. “Must be his secret weapon.”

           Deputy Rook scooted their chair as far away from Hurk as they could. They were, unfortunately, between him and a wall, and therefore had to press themselves up against a wall to get as far away from the idiot as humanly possible.

           “But you know, man, what this means we need to do?” Hurk questioned the Deputy, who was sidling the wall and trying to very sneakily escape. “WE NEED TO GO CRASH THAT PARTY!”

           “Alright Hurk, that's it! Get out of my bar!”

 Elsewhere, sometime later

             “This is a waste of time, Joseph,” Jacob grunted from his seat at the porch of Joseph's church. “Our enemies aren't just going to waltz into here.”

           He couldn't have picked a worse time to say that, as a helicopter came into view on the horizon and the sound of a horn blaring from an 18-wheeler echoed down the cliff side of their compound.

           “Faith, brother.” Joseph gave Jacob the smuggest grin.

           In short order, a convoy of vehicles pulled up to the gate of the compound: an 18-wheeler with a flame decal, a shitty-looking jeep with a Gatling gun on the roof, some gaudy looking sports car, a black sedan, and a handful of ATVs. The helicopter came and landed next to them, followed by a red biplane that didn't quite stick it's landing and rammed into the gate slightly, knocking over a 50-foot section of the chain link fence.

           “Lovely that you all have come,” Joseph said serenely, waving to the group of people who were filtering out of their vehicles and checking the safety on their weapons. “Truly, it is a day for celebration--and don't worry, we've made enough macaroni salad for everyone!”

           “Bleh!” Hurk said in sync with a young man holding a flamethrower stylized with a shark motif.

           “Come, my children,” Joseph beckoned, conveniently ignoring anything that didn't fit his worldview. “We shall begin to make with the merriment!”

           “Check your guns at the door,” Jacob added.

             As it turned out, the community gathering didn't immediately dissolve into a crazed slaughter. There was (surprisingly for the Seed’s) a good amount of liquor provided. Deputy Hudson, the only (at least proven) female deputy, managed to integrate herself with a group of Jacob's hunters and were quietly discussing amongst themselves what the best shotgun slug on the market was. Whitehorse had a surprising love of fashion and was discussing Mumu's Fashion Week with John, who was an avid collector. Deputy Rook even managed to be companionable, if silent, after one of Joseph's followers commented that they liked the gaudy, skeleton-embroidered gloves they wore. Everyone else was laughing at the Project at Eden Gate followers suffering through the classic Seed macaroni salad. All in all, it was a good time.

           “Everyone,” Joseph called out. “It's now time for the exchange of gifts!”

           Alas, all good things come to an end.

           Whitehorse motioned to Deputy Rook, who leaned their dumb eyeball mask close to their boss. “We were supposed to get gifts?”

           Rook shrugged. It was a birthday after all.

           “Why didn't you tell me?” Whitehorse demanded. Rook turned their eyeball mask fully to face the sheriff down in a stare-off.

           “...Fine.” Whitehorse relented. “You make a good case. You're lucky you’re such a damn good speaker, Rook.”

           A deep sigh came from the mask before Rook turned back towards the Father.

           “Me first!” John shouted, pushing his way to the front of the crowd. He cleared his throat and presented a perfectly wrapped box to his brother.

           “Thank you, dear brother,” praised the Father as he carefully unwrapped the box. As he reached inside, he pulled out a painting frame. “...Modern art?”

           “It's the first sin I carved out of myself!” John proudly displayed a scar on his left underarm, “Are you not proud, brother?!”

           Slightly green, Joseph nodded, setting the framed piece of flayed skin in a pile he mentally marked as 'trash'. “Very. Next, please.”

           No one moved.

           “Come now, no need to be shy.” Joseph looked around the crowd who was trying very hard not to meet his eyes. “How about Faith? Come now, my child.”

           “Err...” Faith's eyes darted around like a rabbit staring down a shotgun. “How about Jacob first?”

           “No, no. I'm sure your gift will be wonderful,” The Father countered with a smile.

           “Sure, yeah! Wonderful.” Faith inched away. “I just have to go get it! I'll be right back!”

           The young woman bolted away. A couple minutes passed, then five, then ten. Most of the gathered guests wondered if she was going to come back (most hoped that she wouldn't). Any concerns were allayed and hopes dashed moments later, however, when she came back with a poorly wrapped and heavily-taped, ball-looking object.

           “Happy birthday, Father!” Faith exclaimed with a proud smile as she shoved the gift into his outstretched hands.

           “Thank you, sister.” Joseph serenely intoned, carefully picking at his gift in order to most carefully unwrap it, only for it to spill all over his suit. “...Dirt?”

           “It's symbolic,” Faith explained.

           “Oh?” The Father was quite interested. “How so?”

           “It's symbolic,” Faith repeated, sweat beading down her face, her ever present smile trembling slightly.

           The Father looked over his glasses at her with what half the crowd would say was disappointment, and the other half would say was understanding. “I see.”

           “Jacob!” Faith screeched grabbing her actually-not-really brother by his huge bear arm and dragged him forward. “You're turn.”

           “Fine,” he huffed. Reaching into his inner coat pocket, he withdrew a small, unwrapped cardboard box, not much bigger than a soda can. “Happy birthday, Jo.”

           “Thank you, Jacob.” The Father smiled, comfortable in the knowledge that his eldest brother would actually bring him a regular gift. He opened the box and examined the plastic object. “...What is it, exactly?”

           “It's a speed reloader,” Jacob explained, picking up the gift and holding it in what Joseph assumed was the correct configuration. “You load your bullets here, and if you ever need to reload, it'll barely take you a half-second.”

           “A speed reloader?” Joseph was baffled. “For an assault rifle?”

           “What? No.” Jacob was beginning to be as baffled as his brother and pointed to the gun at his waist. “I've never seen you with a rifle. That's for the revolver you're always totting around.”

           The Father stared at his brother for a solid two seconds before bursting out with warm laughter. “Oh Jacob, I'll never actually use this weapon.”

           “Joseph, I know you don't like guns, but--”

           “No, no brother. It's just a character design element,” The Father explained. “Why, using it would be silly.”

           “I don't understand what you're saying.”

           “Don't worry, all is as foreseen,” Joseph said, falling back to his cop-out line.

           “I'm done.” Jacob gave up, rubbing his forehead in suppressed rage, he gestured to the deputies and their compatriots. “One of you idiots can go next.”

           “Oh, I'll go, I'll go!” Hurk waved his hand and ran up to Joseph before shoving what looked to be a shopping bag right in his face. It made a satisfying “bonk” as it rebounded off his forehead. “I know we had our troubles, man, with me dropping out of the cult and all, but this has been cool.”

           “Thank you, young Herakles,” Joseph said benevolently, ignoring the throbbing pain in his head. “I'm glad—”

           “Yo, man, where did you hear that name?” Hurk tried to whisper, but it came across even louder. “My name is Hurk.”

           A rasping chuckle came from the weirdo in the giant eyeball mask in the crowd.

           “Young Herakles,” Joseph said. “You should be proud of your name. It has heritage and—”

           “WOO-HEE!!” Hurk screamed. “WHO KNOWS WHAT THESE PEGGIES ARE SAYING, AMIRITE?!”

           “I'll just open this now,” Joseph said, opening his shopping bag and taking out a rather nice bottle of wine. “Young Herakles, this is one of the bottles of wine I bought for this party.”

           “I know, man!” Hurk agreed. “I knew you'd like it.”

           Joseph looked at the bottle in his hand and set it beside him. He looked to his eldest brother and made a motion of cutting his throat. “I see.”

           Jacob grunted, grabbed Hurk by the shoulder and guided him back to his friends. “Next.”

           “Sure.” A black man with a smooth voice stepped to the front of the queue. “I've got something to give Joseph.”

           As the Father saw this guest, his eyes lit up. “If it isn't my old friend, Jerome!”

           “‘Old friend’. Sure,” Jerome said dryly.

           “I missed you, friend,” The Father continued. “Remember when we used to camp out together?”

           “You mean when you squatted in my church?”

           “Or when you had me as a guest preacher?” Joseph pushed on.

           “You wouldn't stop interrupting my Mass.”

           “Such good times.” Joseph said. “What tidings do you bring, old friend?”

           “This.” Jerome placed a half-drank water bottle in front of the father emblazoned with the words ‘Holy Water’ in still-wet, permanent marker ink. “Blessed it myself. I'm curious if you'll spontaneously combust when it touches your skin.”

           “You blessed it yourself?!” Joseph gasped. “I'll treasure it. Thank you, my friend.”

           Jerome just glared at the Father.

           “And no hard feelings about the thing with your daughter, right, friend?” Joseph pushed.

           Jerome continued to glare at the Father.

           “Haha, of course not old, friend. What a story.”

           Deputy Hudson quickly went up and dragged the preacher away before he went to strangle Joseph.

           “That will be a hard act to follow,” Joseph warned.

           The gathered looked at each other and started shoving each other to try to push one unwilling sacrifice to the head of the crowd. After a couple moments, a man stumbled out at the head of the crowd.            “I suppose I'll go,” said a dirty man with crazy hair. He walked up to the Father, dug through his pocket, and dropped a crumpled cardboard business card on his place mat. “Here.”

            “Why...Thank you,” Joseph said, inching away from the filthy man. He gave a glance at the business card before grabbing the tongs from the macaroni salad, and used it to pick up the card and bring it to eye level. “A free, 1-year subscription to...Zip Kupka's NewsBattles?”

           “It's my internet talk show,” Zip Kupka explained. “You can get it on XM radio, too. It tells about all the hard-hitting news, like the bliss in the Henbane turning all the fish gay!”

           “Lies!” Faith shouted, perhaps a bit too loudly. “Baseless slander!”

           “Wait,” Skylar Kohrs, the young fishing champion of Hope County, muttered. “Is that why there are no Demonfish out this season?”

           “What are Demonfish?” Staci Pratt, local emasculated deputy, asked the butch fisher-girl.

           “You know,” Skylar explained, holding out her hands to their full wingspan. “About this big, dorsal fins, huge teeth.”

           “Skylar,” Staci said in a slow voice, as if talking to an idiot. “There aren't any sharks in Montana.”

           “I know,” Skylar shot back. “They're Demonfish.”

           “Children, children.” Joseph held up his hands, forestalling their argument. “We're getting away from the important thing here. Me.”

           Deputy Rook idly wondered if the buffet table sporks graciously given out for the macaroni salad would make a good enough weapon to stab Joseph. Before they could act on that train of thought, an old, bearded man in an apron jogged into the middle of the crowd, shouting unintelligible madness.

           “Mphyadn, Shawdamnh Birthday,” the seemingly crazed man said. “Hadph, doart cake mera fer lpod.”

           “My child, do have peanut butter in your mouth?” Joseph offered the man a glass of wine. “You sound like you could use a drink.”

           “No Padfd Btha.” The man shook his head, but took the glass from the Father and downed it all in one quick throw. “Baday cake Tephda, Aldkh?”

           “Err,” Whitehorse broke in, seeing as none of the cult members (or their leaders) could understand this man. “Chad here's saying that for his gift, he made a birthday cake for you. He was asking if he could clear off some space to bring it out.”

           “Of course, my child!” Joseph said. “But leave the macaroni, all my children seem to be enjoying it.”

           Chad looked disbelievingly at the Father as a cry of “Your macaroni sucks!” came from the crowd, but nodded and went to his truck where he retrieved the cake, made some space on the table near Joseph, and set it down.

           “Quite an...” Joseph looked at the giant meatball in front of him. “...Interesting-looking birthday cake.”

           “Mera o Mtabaffth,” Chad explained.

           Wordlessly, Joseph turned to the Sheriff.

           “It's more of a meatloaf,” Whitehorse said. “Chad's a world-class BBQ chef. It makes more sense than him actually baking a cake.”

           “I see.” Joseph nodded, carefully cutting a small piece of the giant meatball and eating it. After a couple moments of chewing, his eyes lit up and he took a bigger piece. “This is actually quite good! What kind of meat is this?”

           Chad smiled and then said, in perfectly understandable and unaccented English, “Bull testicles.”

           The Father stopped chewing, and audibly gulped. He set his tableware to the side and nodded. “Thank you, my child. I think I'll save the rest for all my guests.”            “Oh wow, you sure?!” a man in aviators and a flannel vest pushed his way forwards before grabbing a literal handful of the cake. “Look, Kim! They got testies!”

           “...Great job, honey.” A pregnant Asian woman congratulated him from the gaggle of guests as she hung her head in shame.

           The Father watched on in fascinated horror behind his glasses as the man savagely ate the handful of testicles with an “Om nom nom!”

           “Is it really that good?” one of the Project at Eden's Gate followers wondered aloud.

           “It must be, look at him go,” another said, pointing at the man filling his cheeks with testicles. “Chad is a world-class BBQ chef, after all.

           “Hey, yeah, let’s go try some.” And so, the entire crowd of guests meandered their way forward and made quick work of the testicle cake.

           “Oh my,” Joseph said drolly. “I wish my macaroni salad would go as quickly.”

           The worshipers looked away from the Father. A cry of “Your macaroni sucks!” came from somewhere in the crowd.

           “Hey man, it's like, nature.” Sharky Boshaw, Hope County's resident firebug, said, spraying bull testicle everywhere as he did so. “You can't stop nature. Everyone wants to get some balls in their mouth.”

           “Young man,” Joseph preached, gesturing towards where his siblings stood. “Of course, you can go against nature. Why, look at my siblings.”

           Turning, Joseph only saw Jacob there, with a disassembled gun in his lap.

           “Where did John and Faith go?” Joseph asked his brother. Jacob grunted and motioned towards the table with his head. Turning, the Father came to the sight of his youngest brother and sister stuffing their face with testicles. Looking at his siblings voraciously eating the balls, Joseph could only come to agreement with the young man in front of him. “Nature is truly a frightening thing.”

           “Yeah, man. Anyways, happy B-day,” Sharky said, before digging in his pocket and tossing the Father a lighter. “That's a favorite of mine, real sentimental value.”

           The Father examined the bright blue plastic lighter. “It's a Zippo.”            “Good brand,” Sharky agreed with a nod.

           “It has a 99-cent sticker on it,” The Father argued, before spinning the striker. “And it's empty.”

           “Real sentimental value.”

           Joseph set down the lighter in the “trash” pile next to John's gift. “Thank you, my child.”

           “Oh yeah! Sharky kills it again!” The pyro pumped his fist. “Beat that, po-po!”

           Sighing, Deputy Rook rose to bring their gift to the so-called prophet.

           “Oh, the Lamb of God!” Joseph rose from his chair and held out his hand. “Wait, wait!”

           The Father grabbed the left shoulder of his suit coat with his right hand, and in one fluid movement, ripped off his whole suit top and dress shirt and threw it to the side, revealing his tattoos to the world. He looked over his glasses at Deputy Rook and held his arms towards them, motioning for them to 'come hither'. “Come, my child.”

           The Deputy's whole dumb eyeball mask rolled. They woodenly marched forward and reached into their jacket and dropped, into the Father's outstretched hands, a remote bomb. On it was a sticky note that read, ‘Not every problem can be solved with a bullet. This isn't a bullet.’

           Suddenly, everyone was pointing weapons at each other.

           “PUT THE GUN DOWN!” John was yelling at Sharky as he pushed his gun against his forehead.

           “YOU FUCKING PUT THE GUN DOWN!” Hurk yelled back as he pushed his rocket launcher against John's liver.

           “YOU AREN'T GOING TO FUCKING DO IT!” Faith shouted as she rapidly moved her shotgun between them.

           Deputy Rook, meanwhile, rolled the detonator between their palms.

           Joseph sighed and set the gift down in the trash pile. “Peace, children, peace.”

           “Joseph,” Jacob grunted. “You're sitting next to a bomb. Peace is a little out of the picture.”

           “Now, brother,” Joseph said placatingly, pulling out a silver stopwatch and checking the time. “Let's wait until we get the last gift.”

           “What last gift?” Jacob hissed at his brother, who turned his head skyward.

           “That.” A whistling was heard in the distance. Then, Joseph's church exploded in a shower of wood, sawdust and moonflowers. The kinetic energy from the blast sent everyone except Joseph, who was standing in just the right spot, hurtling to the ground, ears ringing.

           The Father walked up to the object jutting out from his now destroyed church, and lay his hand upon its cool, metal surface.

           Jacob was the first of those not blessed by (a dark) God to recover. He looked up at his brother to see him stroking an undetonated ICBM. On it was Cyrillic characters that he recognized; Russian. He only knew a brief smattering, so it took him a moment to translate what it said, but when he did, he could only mutter, “Crazy bastard.”

           On the missile it read, Happy Birthday, Joseph – God.

           Smiling, Joseph meet his older brother's eyes. “It is all as foreseen.”

           Then the world was covered in cleansing fire.

         Fin

[discoveriesofbishmont]

restless (bishmont, 1x04 fic)

@kuningatarmirka prompted matthew helping diana through a nightmare.

set during 1x04. i added in scenes where matthew calls miriam and hamish because i love them. will probably write a series of fics with diana and matthew comforting each other in the future. one post 1x06 where diana has a panic attack is already in the works, and also one where matthew has a PTSD episode for @begins-with-an-absence-of-desire

AO3 Link Here or you can just read the tumblr post...

Matthew waited until Diana’s heart rate had slowed enough to indicate she was deeply asleep in the upstairs room of his tower before exiting his study, traipsing down the staircase out back into the main keep of Sept-Tours. The vampire had work to do and phone calls to make, and he didn’t want to risk Diana waking up and overhearing. He still had his senses tuned to her so he could be able to hear her even on the other side of the castle.

The witch was napping after their morning ride together, still exhausted and weary after the events in Oxford over the last couple of days; she was especially worn out after the revelation that her parents had been killed by witches, not humans. Although she’d run off at first, understandably upset, he’d returned to the tower to find her there and nearly dead on her feet.

He headed towards his father’s office. The study would provide a quiet, calm space with stronger vampiric scents that would hopefully get the alluring smell of Diana out of his nose. Despite feeding only at the weekend, being around the witch was making his blood thirst much harder to control. Matthew would take whatever break he could when it come to getting away from Diana’s scent. While he loved spending time with her, he didn’t want his craving for her to overshadow his feelings - even though he was still in denial.

Matthew opened up the office and stepped inside. It had barely changed over the centuries - bookcase cabinets lined the walls, filled with de Clermont memoires, with old hunting scene paintings decorating the cobblestone walls. The mahogany desk and its accompanying chair had piles of old account papers on top of them and the candle stubs had been burnt down. The air was stale but Matthew could detect both his mother’s and Marthe’s scents within the room. His father’s scent was no longer detectable.

Clearing the chair, he brushed off the gathered dust before sitting down and pulling out his phone. After some debating, he chose who to call.

“Matthew,” Miriam greeted him shortly down the line.

“Miriam,” he acknowledged. “How’s Oxford?”

She began answering questions he hadn’t even asked yet. “Knox isn’t aware Diana is out of the country, although we think he is searching for her. Marcus and I moved into the Old Lodge and made sure a trail with Diana’s scent was left behind from New College to Woodstock. There don’t seem to be any creatures suspecting you took Diana to France - at least, not yet. Everything seems to have quietened down for now. How’s Sept-Tours?”

“Fine. It’s going to take a while for my mother and Marthe to get used to a witch living within the castle walls.”

“I can imagine it must be quite a change. For Ysabeau, Marthe, and Diana, to be living in a house full of vampires.”

“Diana is adapting well,” he relayed.

“So Ysabeau hasn’t ripped her head off yet?”

“Nor do I think she plans to.”

“Marcus owes me twenty pounds then,” Miriam said, satisfied.

“You had a bet about whether or not my mother would attempt to kill Diana?” he asked disbelievingly, some anger seeping through into his voice.

Miriam switched the subject tactfully. “Marcus has been acting as my lab assistant since you left, mostly due to the fact that he wants his own blood analyzed quickly so can find out why his siring attempt with James failed.”

“Any news with that?” he asked.

“I ran his bloods and have the results. Marcus has some of the markers we’ve seen before in cases of failed sirings,” the female vampire sighed. “I’ve emailed you copies of the gel x-rays. When you have the time, can you look at them for me?”

“Of course.” He paused. “You want me to tell him?”

“I think he’ll take it better from his father.”

Matthew nodded. “That might be better.”

Miriam went quiet on the other end of the line again. “Are you scared?”

“Of?”

“Diana.”

“Of Diana - no. But for her? Yes.” Matthew ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “I don’t even want to imagine what Knox and the Congregation might do to Diana if they get their hands on her. Accidental elemental magic, witchwind… her parents’ bloodlines obviously carry power that the witches were jealous of, which is probably why they were killed. Then there’s the entire situation with Ashmole 782…”

“Marcus thinks you’re being stupid taking Diana to Sept-Tours,” Miriam said. “I think you’re being smart. If Diana is powerful, but has no control, and there are witches after her because of the manuscript or her magic, maybe both… there’s no place safer for her than with you and your mother in France.”

Matthew exhaled. “Thank you, Miriam,” he answered sincerely.

“Tell Diana to give me a call anytime if she wants somebody else to talk to,” was the last thing the female vampire informed him, before hanging up.

Before Matthew could put place his phone down on the desk, it pinged with a text.

From: Marcus - So… you might want to call Hamish :/

“Merde,” Matthew muttered.

What exactly had Marcus told Hamish about Diana and their trip to Sept-Tours? Spinning around in the chair, the vampire swiped up his phone and thumbed through it for a moment, wondering whether or not it would be a good idea to call his best friend when he knew it was likely he was just going to get lectured.

In the end, he just sighed and placed the call. Hamish picked up in under two seconds.

“I tell you to take a step back from Diana Bishop and what do you do? The exact opposite.” Hamish said sharply. “And then I have to hear from your son that you’ve partially mated to this witch and you’ve taken her home to France?!”

“Diana and I are not mating,” he countered immediately. “And I’m sorry, Hamish - things took a turn for the worst concerning the manuscript and Diana was being threatened by other witches. I had to act fast. I would have called you if I’d had the time. I’m sorry. You were right - I care about Diana and I can’t let her get hurt. I’m in too deep now and I’m not sure if I want to get out of it.”

“Dammit, Matthew,” the daemon bristled. “You make it so fucking hard to be mad at you, you know that?”

The vampire smiled. “I would let you punch me if you were here.”

“And you’d deserve it.” There was a pregnant pause and then Hamish commented, “Marcus told me he had to talk you down from directly attacking the Congregation.”

Matthew sighed. Of course, his son would have snitched on him to Hamish about that. “I wasn’t going to attack the Congregation - I was going to hunt down Knox. He’s made it clear that he’s willing to do whatever it takes to get his hands on Diana and the Book of Life, even if that means threatening and manipulating her. Diana can no longer trust her own people to protect her, which is why she needs me.”

“From what I’ve heard, it sounds like she can protect herself,” Hamish said dryly. “Witchwind?”

“Marcus really needs to learn to keep his mouth shut,” the vampire growled.

“It’s good that she can defend herself, Matthew. That means she’ll be able to fend off Ysabeau when she eventually strikes.”

“Why does everybody think my mother is going to attack Diana?” He hand tightened around the phone. “She’s not. She promised me. She won’t go back on her word.”

Hamish hummed thoughtfully. “If she swore, then she’ll keep to it. Ysabeau de Clermont might be many things, but dishonorable is not one of them. Now, tell me more about the manuscript. Marcus mentioned that Diana tried to recall it, but failed. What happened?”

Matthew was about to respond when his enhanced hearing picked up a faint whimper from the direction of his tower. He froze, switching all of his attention from Hamish over to Diana. Seconds later, a pained scream split the air. He dropped his phone onto the desk with a clatter, ignoring his best friend’s frantic demands to know what was wrong on, and the vampire full-out sprinted from the office back towards his tower. He was running at such speed that he actually cracked some of the stone walls when slamming into them, struggling to get around the corners fast enough.

He wasn’t ashamed to admit he was panicking. Diana sounded as if she was in agony, and although he couldn’t scent any strangers within Sept-Tours, there was always a possibility that somebody might have broken in. As soon as that thought entered his mind, his anxiety transformed to anger, fear, and guilt; Matthew had promised Diana she would be safe at his home.

Taking the tower steps five at a time, he was at Diana’s bedside barely a minute after hearing her initial scream. To his relief, she wasn’t being attacked or harmed. It appeared that she was trapped in some sort of intense nightmare. The witch was trembling all over, her limbs shaking with the effort of flailing as sleep paralysis gripped at her. Matthew could feel his heart clenching as he saw the tortured expression on her face.

“Wake her up, Matthew.”

He turned, tensing when he saw his mother and Marthe framed in the doorway. They were respectfully remaining on the staircase and hadn’t entered the tower, as that would be an invasion of his territory. Ysabeau had been the one speaking to him, her voice unusually soft, although her eyes were as cold as ever.

“She is suffering a cachavièlha,” his mother continued. “It would be cruel to let her sleep on.”

Sitting down on the bed beside her, Matthew gently placed his hand on her nearest shoulder, wincing when she flinched at his touch. “Diana, wake up,” he urged. “You’re just having a nightmare. Whatever you’re seeing is not real. You’re safe and I’m here with you. Wake up!”

The witch jolted upwards so suddenly that all three of the vampires startled, Matthew in particular jerking away slightly. Her breathing short and uneven, Diana’s hands were like vices as he gripped onto Matthew’s forearms, her eyes wide with alarm and fright. The vampire stared directly back at her, his own hands grasping her elbows securely.

“Matthew?” she breathed. The frantic, haunted look on her face as she glanced desperately around the room told him that Diana wasn’t sure whether this was real or not. “Knox… he was just…” She placed a shaking hand over her heart, as if remembering some past pain.

“He’s not here,” he shook his head. “It’s just you, me, and my mother and Marthe. You’re safe.”

Something in his expression must have reassured her, because Diana crumpled and threw himself at him, wrapping her arms around Matthew’s neck and burying her head into his shoulder with a broken, relieved sob.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, embracing him to her tightly. “I’ve got you. It was just a bad dream. It wasn’t real.”

“It was definitely real,” Diana murmured, voice trembling. “Knox was looking for me, chasing me… no matter how far and fast I traveled, he was always there right behind me, ready to strike me down. And then you were there helping me get away but Knox was still hunting us.”

Matthew shushed her and stroked over her hair soothingly. He met Ysabeau’s icy eyes and Marthe’s warm, sympathetic ones over the top of the witch’s head. “He can’t get to you here.”

“He got to my parents.” Diana’s hand fisted his shirt. “They were on the run and the witches got to them despite that. What makes you think they won’t find me here?” Her breathing was speeding up and she began to hyperventilate, on the verge of a panic attack. Her shaking only intensified. “Oh god, Matthew.”

He shot his mother and their housekeeper a sharp look, silently ordering them to leave. Marthe dipped her head and vanished down the staircase, and after one last narrow-eyed glance between her son and the witch, Ysabeau departed as well.

As soon as they were gone, Matthew scooped Diana off the bed and slipped underneath her, lying down so he could settle her against his chest. Encasing her in his arms, the vampire sighed when her ear rested over his heart and fingers hooked onto his shirt collar. He reached down to tug a blanket over them both, aware that Diana was still shivering. After a minute or so, the trembling stopped and the witch lay on top of him quietly.

"I'm here," he whispered, dancing his fingertips over her back.  "It's all right."

“No, it's not. Knox’s looking for me,” she said, sounding dazed. “He’s using a location spell. But you have to use a map and the one he’s working with is only of the UK. But soon he’ll realize that he needs to search further out and then he’ll find me.”

The glazed-over look in Diana’s blue eyes told Matthew this was not just an educated guess of hers; she was utilizing some kind of witch power. Perhaps she was using seer abilities. “Even if he does discover you are here, he won’t come to find you,” he promised. “You’re safe here.”

Turning, she propped her chin on his sternum. “I’m safe with you.”

Matthew stared at the ceiling, swallowing down the suddenly erupting burn at the back of his throat as he heard the witch’s blood begin to hum in her veins due to their proximity. “I don’t deserve your trust,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what I ever did to earn it in the first place.”

Diana leaned up and brushed her lips against his tenderly. His body stiffened and he reminded himself that such relations between a witch and vampire were forbidden, trying to find the inner strength to push her away. But sensing how unresponsive Matthew was beneath her, Diana pulled away and slid off him, curling up at his side with a sigh.

She was asleep again within seconds.

“You smell like her,” Ysabeau muttered with a disgusted wrinkle of her nose when Matthew eventually forced himself to part from Diana’s side, heading downstairs to his study where Marthe was stoking the fire and Ysabeau was sitting in the chair beside it. “I can deal with one witch who smells like fresh grass and morning dew, but I will not have my son smelling the same way.”

“Diana is fine, thank you for asking,” he responded flatly.

His mother looked away dismissively. “I knew she would be fine the moment you woke her up. Nightmares have no lasting effects on witches.”

“I’m not so sure that was a nightmare Diana was suffering from.” Matthew frowned, cracking open a decade old bottle of wine from the vineyards down the road.

“La sorcière est une voyante?” Marthe asked.

“She is a seer?” Ysabeau snapped, unintentionally translating what their housekeeper had just questioned.

Matthew inclined his head. “Perhaps. I doubt she knows what she is capable of when it comes to magic.”

His mother stood abruptly and left. Marthe finished adding firewood to the grate and hurried out after the other female vampire.

Matthew sighed. He needed to return to his father’s study to fetch his phone, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the tower in case Diana suffered another nightmare or vision, and needed him to comfort her. Instead, Matthew gathered a couple of books so he could work upstairs sitting beside the bed; that way he could watch over the witch while she slept for a couple more hours, before he would wake her mid-afternoon for a late lunch, so she could get some of her own work in before dinner with Ysabeau later on.

He had no idea whether Diana would remember her nightmare or her actions when he’d woken her up. The idea of her forgetting kissing him caused a twisting sensation in his chest.

As long as Diana was safe, though, Matthew would be happy.

[sistertzipster-blog]

Hello my fellow Tumblr, if you are in the mood to have read a taste of my upcoming novel Once She Called Me Darling I have posted both the synopsis and random excerpt from this  tale of tragedy, love and magic! 

Any feedback negative and positive are welcome! Thank you 

Synopsis: 

Many stories begin their tale with a dialogue, an introduction of an event or scene, or a voice that narrates the story in one’s mind waiting for it to unfold into the unknown. My story has been written many times over, it has been produced onto the stage such as Broadway and even journeyed to Hollywood and has been re recreated many times with slightly different twists and subplots.....however despite peoples attempts to portray me in the magical, whimsical, mischievous sense, no one has ever asked ''who is he, how did he become the person he evolved to be?''

Most people are quite content to believe that I was born selfish and disturbed; others simply don't care enough to even entertain the question. They are perfectly happy with that I was a born monster.....someone who his parents abandoned as an infant and left me somewhere. If that were the case I wouldn't be writing any of this....if it were true I wouldn't have gone the great lengths to find myself a home, a haven, the only place I belonged and at great sacrifice.

Some of you probably have guessed my name, and maybe some are left wondering who this very person is dictating their tale onto these pages.....

My name was William Pennington; born in England 1665 the son of a wealthy barrister....we will start when he is at the nice age of sixteen in his childhood home, Cambridge 1681....

Excerpt from Chapter One: 

I woke up to find myself yet again on the mysterious island. Titom was always there to welcome me...''Ah William it is always a pleasure to see you return'' said Titom in greeting. ''Yes'' I exclaimed happy to see my old friend. ''You know, today is my birthday, and I have invited all the creatures here to celebrate with me, would you like to join?'' asked Titom. I nodded excitedly. ''How do creatures such as yourselves celebrate birthdays?'' I asked my curiosity and excitement brimming....''Oh! It is great fun, we play music, build a bonfire, dance around it and eat as many berries as possible! I think you will like it...'' replied Titom. ''I am honored to attend when should I come by?'' I asked. ''We will begin at sunset, you can come with Grigorn, he knows where to meet everyone'' with that said Titom walked away. I felt my blood rushing through my body, I was not only thrilled to be invited to an island event but the atmosphere of the island accelerated me once more and as tradition would have it I ran through the jungle; I even swung through vines, climbed trees and jumped from branch to branch....when I went to the pond to drink some water I had found the goblet sitting there, I assumed I absently left it there and it was sitting by the edge of the pond waiting for me....I picked it up and filled it with the water. I then realized that I should bring some sort of a gift. Although I didn't know if it was custom here to bring gifts I decided to think of one anyway. I tried to imagine something that he might appreciate from England, however nothing seemed to fit.....I decided to walk around the jungle, perhaps it would clear my head and I would come up with an idea.....it was a bit colder today than it was the last time I was here....so I gathered some sticks for a small fire. Even though in England I had never made a fire or camped in the wood I somehow understood survival skills only on this island....when I had gathered enough wood I was about to dump it where I wanted the fire to be....I then noticed something about the sticks I picked.....they were perfect, smooth, and a deep shade of chestnut.....my mind suddenly felt a rush of an impulse a drive that I could not explain.....I placed the sticks down and ran back to the beach.....I collected a few of the most beautiful rocks I could find and tore off a few vines. I went back to my spot and was glad to find that the sticks were still there. I sat down and realized that I needed a small knife and lo and behold a knife appeared in my hands. It was an exquisite carving knife, the hand seemed to be made of some bone and ivory with blue, black and purple designs.....I then began my project. I cut the sticks so that the ends were even, I then placed the sticks I selected all beside each other and cut them to size but each one was taller than the other....I then took each stick and made them hollow.....I set my knife down and began crushing the rocks, this did take some time but eventually the powder was a beautiful shade of green.....I shaved the outer layer of the vine and cut it to the length of the sticks sitting beside one another, when I was satisfied by its size I dipped the vine into the powder and covered it and shook off the remainder dust.....I didn't think it would work but somehow the powder stuck to the vines perfectly and the color was mesmerizing.....I wrapped the vine around sticks and then shaved another part of the vine to create a string like material and tied the green belt around the sticks. They weren't sticking together as I hoped and tried to think of a way to make everything glue together. From the corner of my eye I felt something dripping onto my head. I put my hand on my head and felt something incredibly sticky. I looked up and saw that it was coming from the tree I was sitting under. I thought fast, I grabbed my knife and poked a small hole from the tree and a gush of tree sap flowed out. I didn't need much of it....I then picked up a leaf and used it as a brush that I dipped into the sap and was able to stick all the wooden pipes together plus the vine belt....I was happy with my creation. I then wanted to see if I indeed made a real instrument. I held whatever it was in my hand and began to blow into the pipes. Nothing came out except for air.....I tried again and indeed nothing.....I was disappointed but it still was a nice decorative piece. The earth began to tremble beneath me, I wasn't sure what to do....was this an earthquake? I then heard loud hoof beats and slowly turned to find the centaurs stampeding. I was still holding my instrument in my hands and was cognizant not to drop it as I jumped out of the way. The centaurs must have recognized me for they stopped abruptly. ''You can come out William'' shouted Rumus, the centaur who was close to my age...at least in centaur years. I clambered out and greeted all of them. ''Hi Rumus, how are you?'' I asked, Rumus was one of the friendlier centaurs. He had long brown hair that glistened in the sunlight and his eyes changed colour depending on his mood, that was common amongst the centaurs. ''What brings you to our island?'' asked Rumus. ''I don't know, I just like to visit often I guess'' I replied. It was hard to describe that I was just dreaming and how Rumus wasn't actually real....how would you describe that to a centaur? ''You must be here because it's Titoms birthday!'' remarked Rumus. ''Yes, I even made him a gift'' I said proudly holding up my wooden instrument. Rumus peered at it, and smiled. ''I don't know what it is, but it certainly is quite lovely, I think Titom would like it very much'' exclaimed Rumus. ''Are you attending his celebration?'' I asked. ''Yes, of course, all the creatures celebrate each other even if we don't know them personally'' commented Rumus.....''Would you like to ride on my back today William?'' asked Rumus. I nodded and hopped on. ''So that your extraordinary gift does not break I have a string, made out of centaur mane, how about you tie it around my neck'' offered Rumus. I nodded and placed my gift onto the string, it was very thick but felt silky nonetheless. Once it was secured Rumus immediately took off along with his herd! It was no different than riding a horse, however Rumus seemed to float rather than the bumpiness of a horses gallop. We ran through meadows, streams, and climbed mountains....centaurs ran up mountains with ease as if it were a mote rather than a mountain. This was a unique quality of the centaur, they can gallop up mountains without breaking a sweat, the best though was yet to come....Once we reached the peek of the mountain all the centaurs stood close to its edge. Unlike horses centaurs could jump with grace and with little effort from mountain top to mountain top! The leader always starts and lunged himself and the rest followed. I held onto Rumus terrified yet didn't want to back down. ''Are you ready?'' asked Rumus. ''Yes I squeaked'' Rumus smirked. ''Do not worry human, just hold on tight and if you do fall just simply believe and you can fly yourself to safety.....now lets go!'' Rumus jumped and time seemed to run in slow motion....my stomach flopped and my grip on Rumus's neck tightened.....I was amazed and petrified of the view, I was at eye level with the clouds that were pink and yellow....the mountain tops were far below me yet I could see the exotic flowers waving in the breeze and the rocky terrain. I suddenly felt a diving sensation when Rumus soared downward toward land. I screamed in horror and the most amazing feeling that always felt new even though this wasn't the first time doing this with Rumus. I marvelled at how centaurs could be hundreds of meters in the air and still land on their feet....I fell off of Rumus and laid down on the grass. ''I can always catch up with my herd later, lets take a break!'' said Rumus. We laid on the grass together and gazed up at the sky. ''Do humans have a world like this?'' asked Rumus. ''Not at all, my land is much more boring, we do have creatures there but there is no magical aspect'' I replied. ''Sounds extremely dull'' Rumus remarked. ''Yes, it can be at times, but there we have other yet simpler amusements'' I said. Rumus and I both dozed off, I woke to the hoof of Rumus...''Wake up William.....it is time!'' I then remembered Titoms birthday and quickly made haste. I jumped onto Titoms back and the two of us journeyed to the center of the island. When we arrived I clambered down from Rumus and observed the scene.... I noticed Grigorn and his flock sitting on the grass relaxed, there was the rest of Rumus's herd mingling with the Pegasus. I also recognized the unicorns, griffins, chimeras, jackal-opes and the mermaids, who have the ability to come on land and their fins turn into legs! It was marvelous seeing all the island creatures together in one place. Titom was being assisted by a few jackal-opes with setting up the bonfire. I walked over to him. ''Happy birthday Titom!'' I said. He turned and beamed at me and came over to me. ''William it certainly is an honor to have you at my festivities....come, help me with the bonfire'' Titom suggested. I helped with the bonfire and when it was ready to light a dragon appeared, his name was Kelisius as I recall from my visits beforehand.....he lit the bonfire and the flames danced in the darkness. Other fauns appeared too holding small drums and what seemed to be fiddles, which is when I remembered my gift. I found Rumus and lifted the pipes from the centaur hair that was holding it. I then approached Titom....''Titom, in my land it is tradition to hand a friend a gift for their birthday, thus I made you this'' I then presented it to him. Titom seemed quite amused. ''It is certainly a creative and decorative piece.....it seems like its an instrument?'' Titom asked. ''Yes, yes it...well was....I tried making music from it by blowing into the pipes, but I couldn't perhaps you can'' I said. Titom smiled and began blowing into the pipes.....the music that came forth from the instrument was extraordinary, I had never heard music such as that. Just then the other fauns began tapping their drums and Titom played the pipes merrily. All the beasts began dancing around the bonfire and singing along to the melodies. The tunes were light and full of joy and mystery. Kelisius even did wonderful tricks and visuals with his fire, scenes of fauns dancing jigs, and beautiful dragons dancing an ancient dance from thousands of years ago.....the intriguing mystical images remained in my mind in times to come. 

[sunnybimbo]

i definitely didn’t forget tumblr was a thing what

so have this really niche concept that is my shunkeith cowboy+ au

Summary: 

Hunk owns a library in his small town, and is happy to spend the rest of his days caring for it. But then Shiro and Keith tornado into his life, those damned cowboys, and Hunk finds himself flipped over. There's something strange about them, though 

Or, the cowboy/old west AU with a fantastical twist.

Read it on AO3. 

Freshly laid hay crunches beneath Hunk’s boots as he escapes from the borough streets and summer heat, fanning himself with his wide-brimmed hat. He offers a grin and a quick nod to the other townies as he unlocks the library door.

A bundle of wildflowers is plopped at his feet, and he pauses to bow down low to the little town orphan that loves to pretend she’s royalty. He tucks a few of the fuller flowers behind her ears, and tickles her under the chin before he sends her on her way.

The heat is no better inside than out of his cozy little library, but the heavy rays of the sun don’t scratch across his skin like a hot poker any longer, so it’s still a plus in his book.

Oh! Speaking of books. Hunk hurries to gather the few he’d forgotten to put away the night prior. He sets them in their rightful places with a quick round through the few stacks his business boasted, and dusts a few off the groddier shelves. A quick bandage before he finds his duster later.

He makes his way to the front again and props the heavy door open with an oddly shaped rock he’d found years ago. Then, dusting his hands, he heads towards the back to prepare for the lunchtime rush. That is, the few children sent over by their parent to study and/or to stay out of the way of household business.

The door to his office squeals like a piglet that’s hungry for milk when he pushes it open. It pulls a cringe from him, and he picks at his ear as he flops against his desk, shoving aside old papers for a few fresh sheets.

Expired contracts, old deeds, ripped book pages all fall off the edge to tickle his mud-stained boots; things he’d meant to throw out but never got around to. Oops.

He bends to gather them up with a soft sigh, but a familiar knock interrupts the motion. Two raps with the knuckles, then a palm against the wood grain.

From the doorway, almost shy if not for the imposing figure he cut with his scarred nose and barrel-chest, Shiro waves at him. “Good afternoon.”

He’s got a faint smile on his face, like wisps of something larger that had faded to the edges of his lips, and his eyes shine even in the muted sunlight of the backroom that was Hunk’s office. It took Hunk quite a long while not to get too enraptured with them, when they’d first met. Starlight grey, deeper than the oldest pools of time. If he were an artist, he’d probably never need another muse.

“Afternoon, Shirogane!” Hunk chirps, dusting his hands off once again before ushering him in, hurrying to pull the blinds of the tiny window in the corner. He knew how much Shiro loved whatever privacy he could get. Or, well, he assumed he knew, and Shiro never really refuted. “What can I do for you today? Another letter to write?”

“Just returning the book you lent.”

Shiro steps forward, easing the door shut with his foot enough that no one passing could peak in, but keeping it cracked enough that the noise of the outside muffles. Then, it’s only them two.

Under his arm, Shiro’s carefully nestled the book of maps Hunk had offered him.

“Did it help much?” Hunk takes the offered text with a smile, ever present on his face whenever Shiro is around, and sets it on the desk with as much care and deliberation as Shiro had handed it over.

“Helped plenty.” Shiro sweeps his eyes across the office, mostly out of habit. Never knew what lurked in a dusty corner, after all. Then, with as much of a joking tone as Hunk has come to expect from the cowboy, “Maybe I’ll advance to real books soon.”

“These’re real enough.” Hunk hurries to argue in Shiro’s own defense. “But if you ever want to try a new genre, I’m always here.”

Shiro’s faded smile comes back brighter, and Hunk ducks his head down. “I mean, the entire library is at your disposal. Of course.”

“I’ll remember it.” Shiro says, as he always says when Hunk offers. Then, he repeats back in a cheeky tone, “Of course.”

“‘s what I’m here for.” Hunk murmurs, the subtle shimmy of shy fingers tickling across the back of his neck.

Before the silence can stretch the distance between them, Shiro nods his head and moves to tip his hat with his one hand. “Thanks again.”

He waits for Hunk to dazedly lift his hand in a slow wave before he departs. He leaves behind a trail of red sand on the tiny rug Hunk had stuffed in front of the office door, tracked in from the mountains. But it’s nothing a few shakes outside won’t fix. He’s more focused on the color, really.

Sand that vibrant and pure doesn’t exist in the small world that is his hometown. But Hunk wonders if it’s just as wonderfully magical as his imagination supplies— if it smells like fire and burns like ash, or if it’s something more soothing like the waters of a purifying bath.

Not that he’s yearning for travel— no thank you ma’am. He’s entirely too happy with the comfortable routine he’s built over the years, repetitive and calm, and very much so predictable. It’s not in his blood to hop from place to place or never have a comfy bed his own.

Hunk frowns at himself, then. He has no clue where it is that Shirogane disappears to at night. Whether or not he has a bed to snuggle up in when it’s cold and wet and dreary during a late night desert drizzle.

Would it be too hasty to ask him to stay, someday?

Absolutely.

Hunk plops down at the desk again with a soft sigh, pulling his oil lamp out of the drawer rather than drawing the blinds again. He preferred working by ombre lights, anyway.

---

By the drop of night, crows have started pecking at the corners of the roof and mice scratching under the floorboards. Atleast, Hunk chose to believe they were mice.

Shiro hadn’t come back later that day, but Hunk hadn’t much been expecting him to anyway.

He goes through the motions of closing up ‘shop’. He dusts the shelves and pushes the chairs back under their snug little tables, and he subsequently gets frightened to near death when he finds Keith nestled in a corner.

His cut-off, weary yell frightens both the crows and the maybe-mice away, but Keith doesn’t even blink as he looks up from the cookbook in his lap with a muttered, gentle, “Hunk.”

“Keith,” Hunk wheezes, hand over his heart. He’d use a more proper, formal name for the man if he’d been given one, but he settles for what he gets. “You scared the bones outta my body.”

Keith frowns, eyes narrowing half shut as he looks Hunk over— as if a few bones had actually popped out and escaped. After a moment, his expression softens again, and Hunk can only fondly sigh as Keith mumbles a soft, “Pardon.” as apology.

Hunk hooks his sconce on the wall and takes a deep breath to calm his heart. Honestly, he was sure he’d tasted death’s lips moments ago.

“You tryin’ to learn a recipe today?” Hunk asks as he squeezes himself beside his squatter. The wallpaper crinkles behind his back, and he mentally reminds himself to replace it sooner before later.

“No.” Keith says, looking down at the pages. His hands dance across the letters, as if he could pluck every line out if he wanted to and fiddle with them before smoothing them back out to where they belonged. His nails catch at a creased, cat-eared corner, and he thumbs across it with a look that makes Hunk’s gut clench. The feeling reminds him of that one time he’d saw Lance break a bone falling off his roof.

Keith stays silent for so long that Hunk assumes that’s the last he’s going to say until he adds, “The words are smaller here.”

Which is very true, if not a tad cryptic. Most recipes had no need for words over four syllables, which meant less letters for him to trip over, but they were still more competent than most young children’s picture books. When he’d said as much to Keith way back when, he’d taken it without fuss and sat down in the very corner they were near-cuddling in now. He’d poured over it for hours until Hunk had ended up falling asleep in his office.

And, speaking of being a tad cryptic, Hunk had awoken that very next morning with that same book right by the front door, propped up in the perfect angle as to wedge the door shut and keep out stragglers. Hunk had no clue how he’d done it, but Keith had that air about him.

“Need help?”

“This one.” Keith points a grungy finger across the page, squinting at the bold letters. He mouths at the pronunciation, mumbling under his breath until Hunk leans over to see.

“Zucchini.” Hunk nods. “A vegetable. The, uh… long, green one?” He measures the length out with his hands. “I’m sure there’s a picture somewhere around here.”

Keith only grunts, flipping the page. He was more interested in how to say it rather than what it meant.

Hunk buries his smile against his palm, leaning his elbow against a nearby chair leg. He watches Keith trace over the paragraphs fondly, outlined in orange-gold firelight, until he yawns so hard that his jaw cracks.

Neither Keith nor Shirogane knew how to read. Both had come to him, one after the other, to seek out his assistance. He wasn’t sure if they knew the other was coming to him for help, or if they kept it a secret for some reason. But Hunk had put together enough clues to realize they atleast knew of one another.

But, besides that: because neither knew how to read, neither knew how to write. It’s Shirogane that asked him for help with that dilemma, which is how Hunk had taken to writing his letters once in a blue moon, usually while Shiro is skipping through the dictionary like a grade-schooler at lunch time. Really, he didn’t need much help, but Hunk wasn’t about to cut their sessions short, if only to be a bit selfish.

But Hunk was also too nosy not to be curious about the entire spectacle.

“Why’re you tryin’ to learn?” He’d asked Shiro, once. He hadn’t meant it to be rude, but Shiro had winced anyway as he smoothed the crisp collar of his shirt.

He’d gotten that cryptic look on his face he sometimes gets when he’s remembering his past, shrouded in storm clouds that darken his eyes. The kind of look where one side of his mouth dips lower than the other, and his jaw clenched tight. It made his scar stand out a bit more as it scrunched around the bridge.

Shiro had only shrugged a shoulder, though, and mumbled an excuse Hunk couldn’t remember anymore.

When he’d asked Keith, though, Keith looked at him like he was a striped chicken riding a blank cow.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He’d asked in return. “This is the first chance I’ve gotten in a while.”

Maybe he was speaking for the both of them back then, now that Hunk was thinking of it.

It’s on the tip of his tongue, now, to ask about Shirogane. Surely two fastmare riding cattlemen who came into town within three days of one another had to know each other, right? Atleast heard the rumors or otherwise. Hunk’s gut was only rarely wrong about these things.

He doesn’t ask, in the end. He just sits to help Keith pronounce words that have no business being as complicated as they are, cookbook or no.

He huffs as much as he leans over to squint down at one such word in the dark, and it’s that which urges the softest chuckle out of Keith’s lungs and into the static library air.

Hunk feels his heart buckle at the gentle sound, like the first flutters of a baby bird wing. He wants to hear more of it, soft and sweet and— he may be falling too deep too fast.

---

Hunk never went home that night. It’s not a rare occurrence, but it must have happened enough times in a row that his neighbor, best friend, and general troublemaker comes looking for him.

Lance saunters into the library much like a rooster knocked off its perch, before it can bellow out its morning glories, would stalk up to a farm and bite them on the big toe. He slips his way through the shelves, finds Hunk nestled between a globe and a dusty corner, and drops a bag of horse feed at his feet with a sharp bark of, “Rise ‘n shine!”

Hunk doesn’t even get out his shout of surprise fully before Lance has turned heel to open the library doors. The troublemaker.

Hunk gathers his wits as he rubs sleep from his eye and dodges the morning rays that threaten to blind him. He rakes his hair back into a messy bun as he slides his knees under himself, shaking the rest of the tired off with a quick stretch of his arms behind his head.

It’s getting longer now that summer is ending, and with the length comes the coiling curls his hair likes to form. He’s much too busy to be bothered with actual styling, though, so he allows himself to settle for keeping it back and giving it a nice, relaxing, comb-through the next time he finds a water bucket to shower with.

Hunk beams bright despite the rude awakening as he passes Lance, and claps invisible dust off his hands before he gets his day started.

Lance comes to watch him sweep off the front step of the library a few minutes later. When he’s least expecting it, Lance murmurs, “You fuckin’ someone?”

“Lance!” Hunk squeaks, much louder than he means. Those that litter the streets glance over at the commotion, but Hunk rushes back inside before they can stick into his business (as he would surely have, if the positions were mirrored). “What on Earth are you spoutin’ today?”

“You’ve got that walk!” Lance huffs in defense, arms crossing. “And you keep doin’ that thing— brushin’ your hair behind your ear.”

“It’s long.” Hunk stutters, though he does catch himself reaching up to tuck it again. “And I’m not… fuckin’ anyone.”

“Hmph.” Lance hmphs.

“Haven’t in years. You know that.”

“Wouldn’t know, what with ya never comin’ home at decent times, if ever.” Lance lifts his nose in the air, offended like a prissy kitty cat.

“What, you wanna hear my canoodlin’?” Those walls are thinner than your chest hair.” And then, when Lance lets out an embarrassed yelp as he covers his chest, Hunk gives a snicker and punctuates with, “Just teasin’.”

Lance throws a nearby doily at him anyway.

[stedesbonnet]

wowzas it’s been a while. how have y’all been??!

(looong rambles and life update under the cut) 

soo i’ve been MIA on tumblr for a couple of years. occasionally i’ve downloaded the app and reblogged a couple of things but never wanted to get sucked back in, because honestly my relationship with social media has been strained this year. 

e.g. i used to live and breathe twitter but it’s just so.... angry nowadays. i get nervous to even be on that app lmao, there’s so much negative energy radiating off of it. so i just don’t open it, and it’s currently sat on my phone gathering dust. same with instagram - although it’s more that there hasn’t really been that much going on in my life to post given the uuhhhh global pandemic.

i placed this pressure on myself to consistently post perfect content on social media because i suspect there are people who lurk on my accounts from the shadows, and for some reason it took me until a few months ago to finally go private on my socials to combat that. i’ve always hated the idea of making my accounts private but it actually makes sense for me right now to do so - not sure why i made a big deal about it, but there we go.

i think nowadays i just want a more passive social media experience? to watch funny videos, look at pictures and laugh at bad jokes. i’ve loved being on tiktok this year for that reason, it’s so easy to consume content without any pressure.

which brings me here. ughhh i’ve missed tumblr so much. i’ve missed fandoms and gifsets and those ridiculous tumblr controversies and the sense of community amongst it all.

[not me getting sentimental about arguably the worst period of time in social media history jgkgkdfj]

at the end of the day, i just want to obsess over din djarin in my own corner of the internet. and what’s more accepting of that than this hellhole?

and before i forget, a little life update in case y’all are interested in what’s been happening with me since the last time i posted a long text post on this godforsaken site:

i moved out of my uni town to a place closer to job prospects and support networks. it’s less accessible for me to get around by public transport but maybe one day i’ll stop being scared and actually learn how to drive a car kkdfspj

i bought a little place with my bf. probably my biggest achievement of the year. had a heck of a lot of help with it and sure it’s not the biggest, most impressive place, but it’s home and it’s ours. 

mentally i’m feeling a hell of a lot better than i did. i’m off antidepressants, and have been for a while. honestly, graduating from uni was the catalyst for actual improvement, it meant that i could finally put distance between myself and a lot of stuff causing me pain. wish i could afford therapy to really heal and process things properly, but i’ll take what i get. life gets better, i see that now.

on a lighter note, i have a kitten! her name is evie and she’s adorable:

(she’s grown up a bit since this photo but still just as cuddly)

and i have an ‘adult’ job and have been working from home since the march lockdown. it’s a good job and i’m glad to have the security during all this. it’s a luxury i know a lot of people don’t have right now. 

had my first ever tier 4 christmas! ooooh~~~ like much of the south east of england i found out a few days before christmas that instead of having 5 days with loved ones we’d have to scrabble together a small gathering of just our household instead. whilst under lockdown rules. queue (slightly) panicked christmas food buying, facetime present opening, and trying to cook a full roast with the worst oven in the world. we managed it, and it wasn’t too bad!

and lastly, i’m safe, and i hope you and your loved ones are too. it’s been a really tough one, and here’s hoping that 2021 is kinder.

[ambitiouslyamanda-blog]

20 THINGS TO SELL FOR SOME QUICK CASH — 05.19.2017

As Spring is on it’s tail end, it’s finally time to do some Spring cleaning; cleaning the gutters, throwing out things you don’t need, and tending to the garden — but instead of the usual ritual of throwing things to the side of the road, let’s try to sell them for some extra, easy cash. Not only will this declutter your place, but also make you some good money to save or spend on something you’ve always wanted. Not sure what to sell? Read on for a list of 20 Things to Sell for Some Quick Cash…

1.       Last year’s textbooks

Have textbooks you no longer need for the present school year? Don’t let those suckers collect dust — sell them to younger students in your program for some quick, easy money. Join textbook selling groups on Facebook, advertise on Kijiji or Craigslist, or post on your social media pages to get the job done.

2.       Scrap materials.

In my post, Fifteen Ways To Make Money This Summer Without a Part Time Job, I stated that I had made $50 selling old bike frames and a skateboard. People everywhere are looking for scrap materials to make their own items, whether it’s bike tires or sheets of metal. Advertise your junk on Kijiji before you throw it out and let the surprise encompass you when you have some offers on your trash.

3.       Formal wear, like suits and prom dresses.

Let’s be honest — are you ever going to wear your prom dress again? If the answer was no, feel free to list it in your local buy and sell groups to get some easy cash.

4.       Video games.

Have a bunch of PS1 games you’re never going to play? Sell them. Gamers everywhere are looking for games to buy for cheap, new or old; so if you have something you haven’t played in a while, get over your nostalgia and sell it.

5.       Video game systems.

Speaking of video games, the consoles in your basement collecting dust aren’t doing much for you either. Some people shell out big cash for old systems like the NES and certain editions of the N64, so if you’re not playing them, get rid of them.

6.       Sporting goods.

If you have lightly used sporting goods that haven’t been touched in ages, list them on Kijiji for some decent cash.

7.       Vintage clothing.

Go thrifting and find some good name brands like Levis, Wrangler, Gucci, etc — and sell those items on Depop for a profit. Just make sure you know how to ship them out without getting shilled for your money.

8.       DVDs, CDs, Records, Cassettes, and VHS tapes

Collectors are everywhere, and some are scrambling to find certain CDs, VHS tapes, or records to complete their collections. Advertise these items in a collection for a quick, straightforward way to get rid of all your unused medias — or list one by one to make a bigger profit. If you have old Disney VHS tapes, search them online — some of them are worth a fortune. Always do your research!

9.       Handmade items.

If you have a penchant for creating things, why not turn your hobby into profit? Selling at local farmer’s markets, on Etsy, or local buy and sell groups can garner you a pretty penny from interested customers. Make jewellery, clothing, cool computer hard drives — whatever! Someone will probably love what you’re selling.

10.   Old computers or computer materials.

Lots of people are now into making their own motherboards by using different drives and materials than what their original computers came with. Some people are even working from the ground up and making computers from scratch! List these products on Craigslist to reach lots of people and allow the money to pour in for something you weren’t going to use anyway.

11.   Comic books!

Another collectors item, comic books are a popular sell on local sites like LetGo and Kijiji. Go through your old collection and sell the most valuable issues for some quick coin.

12.   Musical instruments.

Have a guitar in the corner of your room just gathering dust? Sell it. If you haven’t learned it after all this time, you’re probably not going to pick it up again, so you might as well sell it to someone who will actually use it.

13.   Cars or car related things.

Have a bunch of spare tires? Or an old hunk of junk car you’re never going to fix or drive again? Sell these items for a reasonable price and I’m sure someone will be more than happy to take it off your hands.

14.   Old electronics, like cell phones, DVD players, and stereos.

People are often enamoured with the past — especially past technology — so don’t be afraid to list these items in fear of no one buying them. Someone will take interest.

15.   Baby stuff, like clothing, strollers, and toys.

I don’t think any parent wants to pay full price for a shirt their kid is going to grow out of in a month — so don’t be wary of putting lightly used baby items online! Strollers, toys, car seats, shoes, and bottles can all sell for a decent price, garnering some extra cash in your pocket.

16.   Furniture.

If you’ve recently purchased a new couch or dining room table, sell the old one! If they’re in good condition, I’ve noticed these are the kind of things that sell quickly online and for fantastic prices. You can also thrift furniture pieces for cheap and sell them for a higher profit, if you don’t have any of your own furniture to spare.

17.   Power tools or building equipment.

Tools like hammers, saws, and drills are also big sellers on Kijiji and Craigslist. If you’re not in need of these items or have extras, sell them and use the money you make for things you’ll will use instead.

18.   Books.

Have books you’ve read a million times or some you’ll never read again? Sell them in a yard sale or online for some quick cash. Children’s books sell especially well.

19.   Sell your clothes!

Before you run off and donate them to your local thrift store, you can always try to sell them on apps like LetGo, Depop, and Etsy. What once was your favorite shirt may just be someone’s dream tee — so at least try to sell your clothes before running off to the Salvation Army to get rid of them.

20.   Glassware, dishes, picture frames, and other household things.

If you’re like my mom and have way too many dishes, sell them! The same goes for picture frames, vases, pots, pans, and glasses.

Excited to start making money this summer? Let me know down below what you’re planning on selling in the comments, and as always, thank you for reading.

Ambitiously,

Amanda

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