#this has happened a few other times but the gum thing really stuck with me AS YOU CAN SEE

[lilnasxvevo]

Okay this is a really specific social situation and I’m just wondering if anyone has any insight on whether this is autistic vs allistic stuff or if it’s just plain rude so:

A couple times in my life, when I’ve, like, given people a piece of gum or paid for something small, I’ve gotten the response “OMG I’ll pay you back,” and even if I say “No, you don’t have to, it’s just a stick of gum/it’s literally 2 dollars/etc” they’ll say “No no no, I’ll pay you back” but then they…don’t?

And my thing is, if I give you a piece of gum or if I pay for something small that’s just because I like you, and I don’t expect anything in return, and I’ll probably forget about it just as soon as I do it.

But if you insist TWICE or more that you’ll pay me back, to me that’s a PROMISE you made, and I’ll remember that. It’s important to me now. So then if you DON’T ever pay me back, well, now I’m disappointed in you and I trust you a little less than I did before, because either you were consciously lying when you said you’d pay me back, or you’re flaky as hell.

Am I being…weird about this? I do get the feeling that people are just trying to be polite when they say they’ll pay me back, but in my book there’s nothing less polite than blatant dishonesty. Like, just say “Thanks,” you know? It doesn’t have to be A Thing. You don’t have to make it A Thing.

[yooglefics]

The casual type: 05 . The art of paying attention

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader Wordcount: 3,354 words Genre ( for the whole series ): AU. College!verse. Strangers to friends with benefits to ???. Eventual smut. Hurt / comfort at times. Fluff for cute friends. Summary:  ( Series ) • Hobi and his girlfriend set you up with a friend of hers to help with whatever happened months back. However, no one really expected things to end the way they did. ( Ep. 05 ) • Sometime the little details mean more than people think. More info under read more.

Includes ( this chapter ): The squad<3. Subin my love. And other new characters. A kind of out of nowhere jump in time ( just a few weeks ) because the writing just flowed like that, I don't know what to tell you. A mini-drama ( this is the spoiler I posted on ko-fi the other week ) and a bigger drama.  Author's note: so… I'm sorry this took so long to be updated Y_Y As you may know, inspiration hasn't been too good these days, but after some lovely comments and knowing people are interested in this story, I finally finished this chapter, so thank you! Also, let me know if you figured out what the drama was before the end, or if you had a theory about it, etc. Hopefully you like this one, and remember to leave a comment, reblog, send an ask, follow or what not, to help my motivation. Thank you for reading <3

“Kang Subin, queer and honorable member of the divorced parents club.” Is how your roommate introduces herself friday night, pointing to the latter as the reason she is only now, a month after classes started, arriving to campus and the city in general. 

She says her dad insisted on doing a year abroad as he did, assisting to his Alma Mater and hopefully fall in love with the city to move full time with him. And she did love it… a little too much. She admits the change of scenery was liberating, she could be a totally different Subin from the one in Seoul, and sadly that meant neglecting her notes and putting at risk her art history degree.

You're glad to note she will be joining you ( and some of your friends on occasion ) for classes, since she managed to keep her notes high enough to not lose her first semester. And then you spend the weekend getting to know each other, practically becoming friends overnight. Subin says it must be a you thing, and shaking your head no, you confess essentially begging the administration for a roommate because you're stuck with silly boys and all girls hate you because you aren't cool like them. She laughs, asks if that means the plan is making everyone hate her too and be stuck with you. And you freak out a little, but her laugh keeps flowing across the dormroom and you know she is joking; you know that things would be fine.

Monday arrives and between classes, you continue to give Subin small tours of the campus, mostly the art building and where all the vending machines are. 

“There's more than I thought, could you make me a map?” She jokingly asks.

“I'll ask Jungkook for the one we made last semester,” you know he has it because it was offered to Yoongi before.

“Hey, y/n!” calls Taehyung, appearing at the other end of the hall with Yoongi, and when he asks “you got some gum?”, you know they were just on a smoke break.

“Oh, hi, Tae. Nice to see you.” Sarcastic tone all over it, “are you having a nice morning?”

He rolls his eyes and Yoongi laughs at his side.

“Sorry, I'm actually not. And I'm running late,” still you give him a look and as a little kid he repends. “Hi, you guys look pretty today, as alway.” He adds before you can argue anything, and only then Subin chuckles, understanding this must be part of your dynamic. “Do you happen to have some gum for us, your lovely friends?”

“Yes, actually.” Taking one strap off, you move your backpack to your front, looking for the little package they keep stealing from. “Here,” you hand one wrapper to Tae, who starts running in the other direction immediately, screaming how much he loves you. And a “nice to meet you!” to Subin.

Everyone laughs, Yoongi turning back in your direction after Taehyung disappears down the hallway.

“You want one?” You ask and before being able to stop yourself, you add, “Is cherry, though” 

“Of course it is,” he smiles and you look away, pretending it's only to search for another one to offer Subin. Memories of friday’s night invading your psyche and shyness your whole body. 

Well, that's your own fault.

“Thank you,” she says, looking at the two of you while unwrapping it. “I'm Subin, by the way, the new roommate.” 

“Oh, she actually found one!”

“Just hoping she doesn't abandon me too,” you pout and Subin wraps one arm around yours.

“Never.”

“Yoongi,” He introduces, thumb pointing to himself and then behind, “And that was Taehyung, but I guess you'd meet the whole squad later.”

“Ah, yeah. I've been told she collects cute guys.”

“Did someone actually say that?” Yoongi asks when you're not even surprised.

“Yeah and when I asked about girls she looked relieved,” subin goes on, “I actually wanted to know, you know.”

Yoongi and you laugh, “someone doesn't like competition,” both say in unison.

“I told you, they lied.”

“Well, I can't really say that yet. I've to look first,” Subin insists, walking through the cafeteria's door. And it doesn't bother you because it comes from a place of curiosity and not horniness. No shame to anyone, your friends are hot, but you've known them for so long and know they have other great attributes that sometimes it feels superficial and it bothers you.

Besides, as a friend, you need to keep their egos just high enough to be healthy for everyone involved.

“Listen, kids,” calling for the table's attention, you stand in front of them, “this is Subin, my—”

“New roommate?” Asks Jungkook, remembering the text you sent, and you nod excitedly.

“That's Jungkook, he is in music and sports.”

“Which ones?”

“All. Some. We don't have time for that,” you joke, but only continue with the rest of his introduction after the youngest clarifies is soccer and box this year. “Oh, he also takes an art class with Taehyung and I, and now you, this semester. You know Tae from earlier, the one who keeps stealing my gum.”

“You're the one that tells me to not show up to class with cigarette breath!” He pushes back against accusations.

“I think she wants you to buy your own,” Jimin suggests.

“Or quit,” adds Hobi and the table laughs even more.

“That’s Hobi, the group's mom.” Tae offers after.

“Does that make Mai the dad?” Jungkook asks, with a serious expression on his face.

“I'm telling her so,” Yoongi says, already phone in hand and texting his best friend.

“You'll have to meet Mai later, she is great,” you continue, “but Tae is in arts. And Hobi and Jimin, are both dancers,” index finger pointing at their direction as you say each name, “and well, you already know that's Yoongi, he is in music too.”

“And the last new guy, right?” Subin remembers from your talk earlier after she met him for the first time, “I guess I took your title.”

“Are we enemies now?” He jokes, “I was about to offer you my chair, but now I don't know.”

Again, laughs all around and before anyone can think about the sitting arrangement too seriously, Jungkook is standing up, saying he needs to go back to the house before his next class.

“Oh, you are the biker from friday!” Subin exclaims as Jungkook’s helmet comes into view, everyone turning to look at her, “can't believe I forgot to ask you.”

And then five pairs of eyes are on you, all but Yoongi's, since he doesn't need an explanation. 

“...What?” Asks Tae, finally.

“Had to call her to my rescue because I lost my key and from the hallway's window I saw someone drop her off on a motorcycle,” she explains, “that's when the girl told me about you collecting cute guys.”

“But that wasn't me,” says Jungkook.

“Yeah, you weren't with us that night. We were all at the house, so who was it?” Ask Jimin, and the curiosity in his voice makes you nervous. You have never lied to them, and starting right now without preparation is terrifying.

However nothing compares to the feeling on your stomach when Yoongi answers, “it was me, actually.” And without a beat, your friends are looking at him now, “What?”

“You what now?” Mister interrogation Tae goes on, “Why were you together? What time was it? Was it late?”

“You were alone? Why?” Asks Hobi.

“We can't hang out now?” You ask back, wasn't he who set you up in the first place? And yes, it didn't turn out the way they planned it, but wasn't the whole premise to get to know Yoongi?

“Not what I meant,” he corrects, “Just… you didn't say anything.”

“Well, you guys canceled, what were we supposed to do? Not do anything just because you weren't with us?” Yoongi answers before you. 

“And we just hang out, you know, eat junk food and chat. Nothing to write home about.”

“Aww,” coos Jungkook, sliding his arm over your shoulders, “does that mean you missed us? You really love us, uh?” you pull back, sticking your tongue at him and pushing him towards the exit, telling him to hurry because if he is late to class you aren't covering for him again.

Thankfully, that's enough to get them off your back and Subin’s arrival provides better entertainment through the lunch hour, as your friends don't hold back on their questions to get to know her. And you're glad they seem to like her as much as you do.

“So… should I've not mentioned the bike thing?” worries Subin later, when everyone has left and is only her and Yoongi at the table.

“Don't worry about it.” He reassures her, offering a tangerine slice when she doesn't return the smile. “Seriously.” 

Is not her fault, he thinks. He can't blame the guys either for wondering and going into big brother mode as soon as they hear you're hanging out with someone, since the prevalence of that is not the best right now. And although he does feels bad about keeping things a secret from them, mostly Hoseok, who Yoongi himself give the “you better be careful with what you do with my best friend” talk, it consoles him a bit to know that the both of you are on the same page with what you have. 

Maybe if they knew it wouldn't be a big deal, he thinks. Better him than anyone else, right?

Putting away your phone and with the excuse of going to the bathroom before class, Subin and Tae follow their journey to the second floor without you and without suspecting anything. As you walk in front of one of the classrooms, a hand wraps around your forearm and pulls you in.

“What th—!” scream is interrupted when you recognize Yoongi. “You almost gave me a heart attack! I could've punched you.” And with adrenaline still running through your body, you actually push his shoulder with less force than you first intended.

“Ouch.” He rubs the place you hit, dramatically, as he explains, “Sorry, I panicked. There were people around and I didn't want to scream your name”

“Yeah, we should be careful after what happened at the cafeteria. Good save, by the way.”

“You own me,” he quickly returns.

“I do not,” you deny, crossing your arms, “You were the one insisting on going into the parking lot, I told you to leave me at the gate.”

“Well, forgive me for being a gentleman.”

You laugh, “and modest.”

Yoongi smiles, relaxing his body against the wall beside the door, “are you telling Subin about us?” he asks before you can question him about why he asked to meet.

Uncrossing your arms, you fiddle with your nails instead, scratching the acrylic paint off of them. “What is your opinion on that?”

“You can't answer a question with a question, miss.”

“Well… I don't know.” Is your final answer after a few seconds of silence. “She is cool and I really think we’re going to be friends and maybe I can gossip to her about you.”

He chuckles at that.

“And also she said sorry and asked if it was supposed to be a secret.”

“Really?” Yoongi sounds surprised, “She asked me that too earlier and I told her to not worry.”

“I feel bad about it because it seems like she is actually worried she messed up,” you share, “maybe I should just come clean. Only to her, at least. But of course not, if you don't want to.”

“No, it's okay. I think is good you have someone to talk to. And she seems nice.”

You nod in agreement, relieved you don't have to start hiding things from Subin as soon as you two met.

“Also,” Yoongi goes on, holding your hips and bringing you closer to him. You allow him to without much thinking. “It was nothing to write home about?”

“What?” 

“Friday night, you said that earlier.” 

“Did your ego get hurt?” You tease.

“No. But I didn't know you were a liar.” he throws back and you laugh. “I'm going to call you Pinocchio now.”

At that, you gasp, “stop giving me nicknames!”

And your attempt to pull away is just that, an attempt, because between laughs he holds you closer. “But is funny. And all of them are true.”

“They aren't.”

“Are so.”

“I don't like you.”

“That's not what I got from friday.”

“Yoongiii—.” you gasp again, his laugh louder this time.

Wanting a clarification stops him from dumping his phone back into the duffle bag and so, throwing the strap over his shoulder, he makes his way over to Chris and other teammates. 

“Are you ready to go?” His roommate asks, and Yoongi nods, “good, I'm just waiting for Ha-ri.” 

“Hey!” As they turn around, it is not difficult to recognize her as one of the cheerleaders since she is carrying her pom-poms and all, but is only as they continue talking that Yoongi realizes who she is, “sorry, I was saying goodbye to the girls and planning for next practice.” 

“Don't worry, babe.” 

“You must be Yoongi, hi,” she waves her free hand enthusiastically enough the pendant on her bracelet makes a jiggly sound, catching his attention “welcome to the university. And the team. Go, Bears!”

She seems nice, Yoongi thinks, “Go, bears!” first in the air, he chuckles in response before they all make their way to the parking lot and to Chris’s car.

The drive home is short and filled with questions about his last school and the reason he transferred, which Yoongi manages to give simple and vague answers that satisfy Ha-ri’s curiosity. It definitely helps that he has been questioned about it more than once the last few weeks, giving him more than one chance to practice before today.

The more weeks pass, the less people ask. And soon the mystery of his arrival is pushed to the side as people decide to talk about his accomplishments in the basketball games.

Every now and then someone recognizes him as an ex Tiger's player, and asks why he changed teams, but before anything can get to deep, a “well, now you are on the right team,” or something alike is thrown his way and he couldn't be more glad for the rivalry between the universities.

For what is worth, the change has proven to have been a good decision. Of course he is nostalgic for the past and he misses hanging out with Mai more often, but he has friends, basketball and music. He has even been planning to perform at school events with Jungkook as he did with Jay back then. 

It feels like he is starting to build a new life, and it wasn't as difficult as his brain told him it could be.

With chuseok around the corner the university starts to plan the events for the weekend and some professors feel generous enough to give extra credits for participation. Others just used it as an excuse to make the assignments related to it, that's his and Jungkook’s case.

Yours is the first one, because getting a good grade for hanging out with your friends sounds too good to pass out. That's why for the last few days you have been following them around taking pictures and notes, preparing your article about their performance Saturday night. 

“Are you done?” Yoongi asks from his spot at the end of the bed when you take the headphones off, the ones he made you wear so he wouldn't have to listen to himself on the interview recording.

“Yep. I only need Kook's side and I'm done,” end of the sentence elongates a bit, arms in the air as you stretch your back.

“How long for him to be here? I need him to go over something before he eats and gets a food coma.”

“I'm glad you're already prepared for that,” you giggle, “Because he is not even seeing my texts.”

“He is still busy?”

“Yeah, kissing someone for sure. Does he think I don't have things to do too?” 

“Like making out with someone too?” he jokes, putting his guitar down on the bed, deciding to take a break too.

“Why? Are you jealous?” you tease, trying not to laugh and is surprising when you're met with a serious expression as you spin around on his desk chair.

 “I thought the rule was to tell if there were other people.”

“I'm just kidding,”

“Wow, a comedian.” he rolls his eyes, and you know he is only pretending to be annoyed.

So, you push. “I'm funnier than you, don't get mad.”

“Cocky.” 

“What, you don't find confidence attractive?”

“Oh, I find a lot of things about you attractive.” 

Touche; you think as a smirk appears proudly on his face and makes you turn around, shy reaction at the security of this voice.

And he laughs. Of course.

“Shut up, Yoongi.”

“If you want to kiss me, just do it,” he only has to stretch a bit to pull on the chair, making you turn to him again and bringing you close.

And you do kiss him.

Not only to erase his stupid and attractive gummy smile, but also because you've missed it.

With projects and exams, with Yoongi not only being in a different major but also in his third year, hanging out only the two of you hasn't happened as much. 

You don't mind. You understand that is not a priority and there is something relaxing about it being an unspoken agreement, something that you truthly appreciate. 

But you would be lying if you said that you didn't miss Yoongi's lips against yours and the way his hand cups your cheek, still gentle as he tries to lead the kiss. 

Looking for closeness, your hand finds balance on his tight, making you contemplate ditching the comfiness of the desk chair for a sit on his lap.

“Is pizza night, baby!” breaks through the house before you can make another move, making you jump and pull away on instinct. Moving out of Yoongi's reach, even hitting the desk with the back of the chair as you stand up in record time.

“Careful,” he murmurs and you don't understand why he isn't freaking out. Even dears to chuckle.

“Min, come out!” another voice calls out.

“That's not Jungkook,” you say as a matter of fact, your brain still in shock.

“I'm starting to think he stood us up.” He stands up, looking at his phone still without texts from the younger guy, “Wanna meet my roommates? They have pizza, apparently.”

And your empty stomach makes the executive decision to hide your shame, and disappointment, in exchange for some food.

You're introduced to Jin first, who introduces Namjoon while taking the knife out of his hand with a “let hyung do it.”

“I swear he never lets me hold a knife for more than five seconds,” he says and you find it adorable, but Namjoon seems genuinely confused and maybe a bit hurt by it. 

You wonder what more there's to that. But before you can ask anything, a third roommate comes out of the kitchen, “Is for your own good and the wellbeing of everyone involved,” he says, making your whole body tense as the familiar voice rings through your ears.

“That's Chris.” Jin says, and you almost answer that you know, but for a second it is even hard to breathe.

Nevertheless, you don't need to say anything, because your silence is everything Yoongi needed to confirm that an introduction isn't necessary and in fact, you'd probably rather forget about him. 

Because is him.

The guy who hurt you.

A/N: I missed writing this! again thank you to anyone who has show interest one way or another, you're the reason this chapter was actually finished uwu♡. A/N 2: I'm working on the intros for the characters that aren't part of the squad, and sometimes I ask for your help with fc's suggestions or names, so... that's something to know if you're interested. Send a tip on ko-fi and get some rewards!!

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[wookiez]

On my knees begging for eunhyuk x male reader oneshot🙏 Just fluff, the reader is golden retriever like and follows him around a lot? And then they yk kiss kiss 😘 Sorry that it’s not very descriptive. Of course you can always discard this and if you don’t, please take your time<3

𓆩❤︎𓆪 little follower !!

pairing : lee eunhyuk x male reader

genre : fluff

synopsis : golden retriever reader follows eunhyuk around like a puppy the whole day and they end up confessing to each other.

author's note : love the fact that it's male reader, we need more male readers in fics!!but anyway, I hope this fluff fits up to your expectations.

lee eunhyuk is a calm-headed and rational guy. you've met him when you've first moved into the green home apartment, way before the tragedy happened. you still remember the first time you met. you had bumped into him while writing a uni essay that was due in two days, he was holding a cup of coffee and it spilled both on your shirt, and your essay paper. you panicked since you worked so hard writing that particular essay for days and it's exactly due in two days and you desperately tried to wipe the coffee stain off, but it was inevitably ineffective. the essay was wet and long gone. eunhyuk took notice of that and decided to lend a hand by rewriting your essay for you. that's when you started to take interest in him. slowly that interest built into love.

since then, you've always tried to interact with him in any way you can. though currently, the whole residence of the green home apartment is struggling especially with what's going on outside currently. It's been a few days since it happened, when strange monsters started appearing and spreading.

you've noticed how eunhyuk has taken the role of a leader and has led the remaining residents. due to that, he has a lot of responsibilities and burden on his shoulders.

so now currently in the present, you're following him around as he orders some of the residents. then, you followed him to the bathroom. as he was about to unzip his pants to pee,

“why do you always follow me around everywhere?” eunhyuk questions.

“is it wrong for me to follow you everywhere, hyuki?” you reply, with a bright smile.

he stares at you, expressionless as he always does, “it's somewhat a violation of privacy, but I guess not. do whatever you must as long as it doesn't affect anything bad.” he says

“okie dokie!”

“now, please could you leave and let me pee in peace.”

“lets pee together, hyuki. I've already seen your dick before!”

you've been following him around the whole day, like you always do. right now, all of the remaining residents are here as eunhyuk was strategizing a plan. they were all looking at him, eyes full of hope that he'll come up with a good plan to ease them of the disaster-like happenings.

“your cuteness is making everyone stare, hyuk!” you say in a teasing tone.

he looks at you, deadpan. he's used to your random comments by now. that doesn't stop you from noticing how red his ears are though.

the other residents also, are used to your random comments. you've always stuck to eunhyuk like a piece of gum, you're literally inseparable.

after explaining the plan and strategy, all of the residents separated to do whatever they wanted to do. you're left with eunhyuk.

“hyuki, I know you like me! I saw your ears turn red earlier!” you say gleefully.

“maybe I possibly do.”

“huh?" you let out, as you were caught off guard.

“maybe I do like you. no, I do like you. ”

you were taken aback, processing the situation.

“i'm aware that this situation isn't really the best time to confess considering that things that have been happening outside lately but, I just had to let it out.” he continues.

you suddenly regained your consciousness back and a big smile engulfed your face.

“you darn loverboy! I knew I was irresistible!” you joked, while giggling.

“i'm really glad you do though. because I love you so much that it makes me feel as if any time without you is far too long.” you continue.

“is that why you follow me around so constantly?” he asks.

“yep!” you reply.

“anyhow...” you say as you take his glasses off,

“you're so pretty, eunhyuk.”

he stares into your eyes, you lean in closer giving him a peck on the lips.

“hehe, I've always wanted to know how your lips felt—”

you feel hands grabbing your neck and pulling you closer into a deep kiss. his lips touched yours. deeply kissing you into a high state. then you both pull away, faces both red.

“...that was really something, hyuki.”

“yeah...never expected I could do that type of sort.”

extra !!

you were currently playing with eunhyuk's hair as he read a book, sat between your legs. you call out to him.

“hyuk!”

“hm?” he looks away from his book, now his gaze is on you. you gave him a soft peck on the lips. you have a thing for giving him pecks on the lips nowadays.

then you said,

“my mega schlong is bigger than yours.”

honestly, I didn't have much ideas for this unfortunately because sweet home is quite the sad dark action horror story it's quite hard to make it fully fluff but I sure do hope you liked it.

©wookiez

[aerodaltonimperial]

Prompt: They won their match but lost each other in the months that followed. So Hook's not expecting the text he gets one afternoon on a quiet day in the middle of his bogus suspension: "What could Danhausen have done differently?"

(You know me too well and keep hitting all my damn fave tropes lmao lmao)

He's already hit the gym, had breakfast, and marathoned an entire season of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt (which will never, ever go anywhere beyond himself and his Netflix account), so admittedly, he's already in a fairly odd state of mind when the text comes through, which might explain why all he can do is stare at it for several minutes stretched long and languid.

What could Danhausen have done differently?

Hook's heart thunders against his ribs.

Done differently? Is he...is he talking about them, like them as in the heavy with meaning, full of finality them Hook still finds himself choking on in the darkest parts of the night? But neither of them have bothered to reach out for months: their whirlwind tag team had slowed into only occasional lunches, then to a few erratic texts, and then...silence.

Of all the things that Hook regrets, this is easily the biggest one; the one that sometimes stumbles him when it gums up his legs, the one that still sends butterflies out into his stomach when he catches sight of the familiar face paint backstage. He's out of it, and bored, and antsy and that's the only reason that his fingers manage to type back a reply before the roar of self-preservation panic can stop them.

It wasn't your fault. Hits send.

Then his heart flares huge, swelling through his throat as he struggles to keep his food down. He shouldn't have answered. He shouldn't have--

His phone screen lights up. But Danhausen must have done something wrong.

"No," Hook whispers, to his quiet apartment, the space he barely knows anymore. Writes back: You did nothing wrong.

The seconds feel like hours.

Then why did Hook disappear? Danhausen thought we were friends.

We were friends, Hook types, and hates how awful it sounds. Past tense? Well, he certainly can't lie, not about this.

The response: What happened? Please tell me.

Hook bites down on his lip. Thinks. Hates the way his stomach has begun to churn.

Before he has time to formulate a reply, another message comes through: Danhausen misses Hook very much.

Hook misses Danhausen so much he's fairly certain he'll be devoured by the agony, but he can't...he doesn't know how to write it, explain it.

He's stuck, unable to offer an explanation that doesn't give his whole heart away. And he's too fucking scared; that's the rub. He's always been too fucking scared, and so he bolted.

He must delay far too long, because Danhausen sends another text, clearly assuming Hook is refusing the rest of the conversation: It's okay. Hook is not beholden to Danhausen. He does not need to explain anything. But

The text stops. There's nothing more. Why isn't there anything more? Hook stopped breathing two minutes ago.

Finally, the rest pops up: Danhausen thinks Hook is more valuable than anything else in the world, even if Hook never wants to speak to him again.

"What?" Hook inhales, the air cutting like glass shards along his throat. His nerves flare spiky, barbed.

He types, blindly, head spinning, you were the only thing I could think about. All the time.

He breathes. Thinks he might die right here, on his couch.

Really? His phone displays. But Hook was the only thing Danhausen wanted. All the time.

He can't...he can't mean that...

Hook writes: wanted how?

In every way possible, comes the reply.

Hook slams his thumb down on the green CALL button so hard he nearly breaks his phone. It rings once, twice, and then Danhausen picks up with a cautious, "Hook?"

"I've loved you since June," Hook says, and he doesn't know how, isn't sure how he gets the damn words out past his teeth, isn't sure how he hasn't puked by now. "D, I couldn't... I didn't know how..."

"Oh," Danhausen says, an exhale. A sigh. "Oh, Hook. We have been very foolish."

"Have we?" Hook whispers. He's too afraid to hope.

"Yes," Danhausen says, soft. "Hook. Danhausen loves you, too."

Hook swallows, his whole body shaking. "Yeah?"

"Mm." There's a pause, and some sort of scuffle in the background, noise Hook can't identify. "Hold please, Hook. Danhausen has just seen Stokely."

"What--"

"I'll call you back," Danhausen says. "Danhausen must go commit murder for you."

"Wait, wait, wait--"

"Hello, Stokely!" He hears, just before the line clicks dead, leaving Hook to stare at his phone trying to figure out what just happened and how to function normally with the euphoria mixed with trepidation flooding through his veins.

What, and he cannot emphasize this enough, the fuck?

[kinshenewa]

I'm going to do a little lore rant about something I made. Arcade Land is a thing I have had existing for such a long time, and my favorite character from my creation is Helpful Hare. I love how he's evolved, and I adore him.

He is the kind of sweet that will give diabetus, yet also can hold dark aspects. He is manipulative, but not like how most are. While most manipulative men would say, "You are lucky to have me! Without me, you would be nothing! You are mine, and you will do as I say!" He's the kind of dude to say, "I am so lucky to have you. Without you, my days would be so dull and bland. Oh how happy I am to have earned your heart, and claimed you. You are MINE, and I don't plan on sharing your heart or your body, anytime soon!" He's just a silly little goober that I can't help but giggle about.

None of the animatronics can ever do things to someone if that person don't want things to happen. Animatronics can't kill without reason, or cause harm without a reason, and certainly can't touch inappropriately without that person agreeing. Arcade Land also offers Sex Ed classes, with the average age being 15 for most students, and 15 is the absolute youngest that animatronics can possible even idly wonder about the topic.

The amount of safety protocols in place is insane, since Ludwig (creator of O'Hare Inc and Arcade Land) wanted his animatronics to be better than Fazbear Entertainment's (who exists in the same universe and inspired Ludwig in the first place). The safety protocols are like 'morals' for the animatronics. There was once a project to try and make balloon based animatronics, but that flopped after a year, since the safety protocols took up a lot of their memory, and they were disobedient and disrespectful.

Balloonics can still be found in basements 3 and 4, though no one really cares about them anymore. Only a few are active at a time, and a few get destroyed each year. After the place is abandoned, almost all of the balloonics are activated, but usually spend time in their cubbies charging. The only balloonic that is on year round is Drake, him being a prototype balloonic. He is different because he has the exoskeleton of a Performer but is hollow inside. He can't float like other balloonics, but he is intelligent, unlike other balloonics. He is a tad arrogant, but hey, he's one of a kind and the smartest balloonic in Earth, of course he would be smug.

Basement 3 was supposed to be a waterpark, but the plans showed that was a bad idea, so it was made into an employee only area. There is a pool, though that is farther back into the forest that neighbors Arcade Land, and has a skylight that connects it to the above world. The pool of full of anigoo, sometimes called animatar, which is a byproduct created from when animatronics digest things in their artificial stomachs for fuel. Many animatronics like to take mini vacations there, where they have little martinis and animatronics that give massages. That is usually where animatronics will spend their time when they need to use their mandated unpaid vacation time.

Animatronics work around 46 weeks a year, the daytime animatronics working around 80 hour workweeks. They can't get tired since they are made of metal and wires and rubber, and don't spend all of working hours working. They take paid breaks, and eat when needed. Sometimes, they spend a lot of time in their rooms, usually making sure they look their best. The animatronics who have fur spend around 2 hours each day freshening up their fur and cleaning it out of anything that could get stuck, like gum or soda.

More to come soon.

[blog-reflection]

ONE / Thirteen - Fragile - Pls be Gentle

Well back I am.

I’m back in Dover and well, nothing has changed. Except, power is back on. I may or may not got some help from Lucia, who helped me out after I told her what all happened. No sight of Mildret being here, everything’s how I left it a view days ago. 

Brighton is far away from all that Bullshit I had to deal with. And the best of it, the train to Windsor only takes around two hours which is one hour less than from Dover. It's not like I visit Jesse that often, but it's great to know that even the opportunity is given. I already texted them the good news, they were so happy and offered their help if needed. Soo Next thing will be, packing up everything I own. I already saved up a lot of boxes over the last month just in case that I do figure out a way to leave this place. Luckily, it’s a whole apartment. I’ve started with my desk, which I rarely used last month. Folders I’ve already forgotten, more than one million pens, pencils, acrylics, you name it, a tone of different coloured papers, books I didn’t even know I own and…what the actuall fuck!? How in the hell did Jesse snoop one of their tank tops in here? This thing must be in here for at least 10 years prior to today. It even smells like they frequent if I’m honest. It’s a basic one, dam coloured, leaves a tiny bit of transparency, has really small stripes and no sides. I think I’m going to keep it, not because I want to wear it but to have it as a memory of Jesse. Still funny though. I will nail this to my wall just because I want to see their reaction. If I’m honest I don’t even think they miss it at all, they lose track of so much and have a really small recall ability. I turned on the music and continued packing the boxes while doing awful and probably embarrassing dance moves throughout my room getting lost in memories of the old time, our old time. Jesse is quite a loud and extroverted person, after they were out of school. Apart from that, Jesse is living with the best person ever; Charles, Jesse's dad. He is just the nicest human being. He never had anything against anything. The way he had handled the quite emotional outing from Jesse was just done in the dreamiest way possible. Ever since, he uses the right pronouns, makes sure Jesse is doing just well and ensures to give them the time they need to not get stressed out. He cares a lot about Jesse without controlling them nor so ever. Some people say Mr. Owen doesn’t care about Jesse because he gives a fuck about everything. Truth is, he knows how Jesse's mind works and does everything to not get Jesse stressed. A few years ago, he left the two of us alone in the apartment for around a month. This was nuts, a lot of chaos and fun. I actually haven’t seen Jesse since I graduated 9 years ago. But we still haven’t lost connection at all. We chat on a weekly basis, update the other one with the latest tea and gossip, laugh and play a lot of online games, like Minecraft together. 

They are just the most talented people on the planet. Doing their own music, playing the guitar, is a master in arts and craftsmanship and a true gamer. Whenever we started something, they made it better. Even in school. The only subjects where I was superior were either history or forms. They are even able to read but compared to me that’s not really a hard thing to do. They are aware of me being jealous. Jesse can take it. I explained why it is the way it is but even this can’t tear us apart. We stuck together like a bag of wine gums in the middle of the summer left in the car. I started packing some boxes again, since there was no chance for me to sleep now.

I played some music in the background and continued filling some of the boxes. Four hours passed and I got around 30% of my stuff wrapped. I had some breaks whenever I found some old things that revived memories, especially the ones with Jesse. We somehow managed to get a lot of memories in a really small amount of time. Most of them are from my time in Windsor, when things were much worse. We had so much fun during that time. I looked towards a picture underneath the book that I just put away. We were so young. Jesse was so small, they were even shorter than me. Now It’s the complete opposite. Based on the pics we exchange sometimes, Jesse must be around six feet and some inches by now. I myself managed to get stuck on five feet and around eight inches. Their skin had this bright coffee touch, light brown curls with a touch of red all over the face. Jesse is a person that never sweats and is always a walking radiator. I barely see them wearing any clothes as soon as the temps rise over 20°C, especially in summer. They don’t show it off though, it’s just Jesse being Jesse. For me that’s normal. We’ve seen each other naked so it’s literally no big deal rather or not they wear fabric. Sometimes, I’d wish I’d be as confident in my body as they are. Jesse is just all pure, pure skin, pure mind, knowledge, smart, clever, outstanding, you name it. I could never pull off any of their trades. I’m really insecure sometimes, which makes life even harder than it should be. But Jesse knows that. They know I have a tendency for low self-esteem and, honestly, they support me so well in almost all the stuff, especially when I get stuck in BII. 

The picture was taken on the last day of year nine and showed the two of us. I wore one of Jesse’s tank tops and Jesse themself was not dressed at all. I can see that moment right before my eyes. It was mid-summer, a really really hot day, so we went to a local river Jesse knew about. It was a really spontaneous idea; therefore, we weren’t really prepared. We grabbed some stuff at a local store before heading to the lake for some good chills. We were alone, no one really knew about that spot, so Jesse did some proper skinny dipping. I for myself haven’t had proper swim wear, which resulted in me jumping in the water with my clothes. We had a lot of fun, but when I got cold and got out, I realised that I had nothing to change. Jesse said I can have their clothes, a tank top and some really short pants. I took it and dressed to feel warmer. We stayed at the river for a really long time. We talked a lot, laid in the sun, enjoyed the small breaths on our backs, made some kind of sandcastle and so on. Even when the sun went down, it was so hot that the temps did not fall. My clothes haven’t fully dried yet, since I’ve been jumping in and out of the water, so I asked Jesse if they brought anything to change. They just looked me dead in the eye, shrugged, got out of the water, shaked their hair like a dog after a rainy day, grabbed their bag and started walking. I remember how they looked back at me asking whether or not I’d follow. At the end, Jesse walked home naked,only covert by the night, me next to them, dressed in their clothes. This constellation was so horrendous, we laughed the entire way home. I’ve known that Jesse does not care about others opinions, but that got it up another level. When we got home, we took that pic to remind us of how much fun we had that day. That’s for the good old days. I framed the picture with a spare frame I found, wrapped it in paper and carefully put it in one of the boxes. I closed it and rested my elbows on it, holding my head. I looked through my room and thought…what a mess. 

Boxes all over the place, some of them were open, most of them closed and stacked above each other. It lowkey looked like a toddler, trying to build a cardboard castle or something. Truth is, it’s still a mess. Blankets everywhere, pillows, plants that I don’t even remember I had. I have lived in this room for around eighteen years. Never realised how much I got in those years. I changed the music to some Loft vibe music and set my focus on boxing and unboxing again. One shelf left, the one with the most values in my entire room. There are a lot of pics, one from my graduation, one from Jesse attending Royal Holloway for the first time, one with a not so happy family and yes, I did rip my dad out of it, trophies and certificates as well as a collection of pics with Jesse as well as with Lucia. I took the picture I framed before out of the box and took a slightly smaller one to proper store all of these memories. I found a cute pastel pink ribbon to secure the box, took a pink sticky note and wrote “!fragile, pls be gentle!” In a bold font of the note before sticking it to the box. I placed it on top of one of the smaller box towers next to a plant, which is held in a self-made macramé mesh and used to hang from my sealing window next to my fairy lights, which are now tangled up somewhere in those boxes. That’s it, within a week, this room will be empty. Or already occupied by something my mum has in mind. Truth is, she’ll be pretty alone once I’m gone. And if love is genetic, she will stay single for a while. I’ve never had an official boyfriend, at least not one I’d count to that. There is more experience to prove the fact that I like boys. But that’s all, no deeper connection, no hard feelings, most of the time we barely even talk. I looked over to my phone. Four am. Well, now I know why I took these weeks off work, so I can focus on the move. I got out of my jumper and crawled onto my bed. 

Orrr come one for fuck sake, not again. I stretched my leg to reach my phone, which is laying on the floor about four feet away from the bed. I almost fell out of bed when my toes finally hit the screen of my phone. I reached out a little further and with a hard pull I managed to kick it under my bed. I took a disappointing look towards the middle of my room before getting upside down and grabbed it. Now it’s chill time. I plugged in my phone and browsed through a variety of social media until I eventually fell asleep, around 6am, in the morning. 

Fun am I right? I’m not even tired. Well, not anymore.

[daidoruyume]

Chapter 4 Beloved photograph and fireworks

 I considered it quite unfair how little I understood things, but how easily I understood pain. I always thought I was too young to be broken that way. I felt hopeless, amongst the many things that were destroying me. But I heard once that there’s light. That there’s something that shines bright, and that is so worth it that everything else has a meaning when you remember it. To me, it was this girl. 

 My mom had a terrible relationship with my dad’s mother, but me and my siblings didn’t understand it well at the time. I remember the fights, and I remember, as the oldest, being the one who would say “it’s nothing”. My dad seemed impotent, and so were we. On that day, there was this huge discussion over how my grandma didn’t want my mom hanging out with us. She had her hair dyed blonde that time, and a few tattoos. She thought she standed out too much and that it ruined our harmony. I heard that a couple times, for how “weird” I was. That I should restrain myself, and be better, so I wouldn’t end up like my mother.

 But I am her daughter regardless, so I’ve always been a pain to my grandma. We went out anyway, and at that time I had my hair cut really short against my own will. It happened that I was quite stupid and glued gum to it, and my grandma did it without asking my parents. I cried a lot, and I was so mad, because I liked having long hair. It was the only thing that made me feel like a girl, and she had taken it from me. I wasn’t delicate and cute like my sister… I felt so bad, so wrong, so worthless. And I was about eight at the time. I dressed in the yukata she had picked for me, and it matched my sister’s. But it didn’t feel like it. I was too different from her. We were almost like different species. At least that’s what I heard once, as mean as it sounds.

 We arrived there, and I didn’t like the crowd too much. They had to go eat the food I didn’t like, the texture seeming unbearable. I don’t eat meat nowadays, but at that time I didn’t make these kinds of choices, so we had to get some Takoyaki. I remember vividly how weird that octopus felt in my mouth… I hated being disrespectful towards food, but it made me want to throw up. It was so, but so weird! I didn’t finish one single ball and they were so disappointed at me. But I saw they were setting off fireworks, and that felt interesting. I asked if I could go, and my grandma said yes. Maybe she wanted to get rid of me for a bit. I felt glad. 

 Amongst the many people, I saw a girl. She was quite chubby, but I didn’t see it as a bad thing, and I still don’t. I thought she was really cute, and the little piece she had on her hair made her even cuter. She had short black hair, just like Snow White’s. She smiled at me, and I guess I gave her a dumb look. I heard the sound of those fireworks while I stared at her, unable to talk.

 “Do you want to play with me?” She asked, in the friendliest voice. I just nodded, still with the words stuck in my mouth. But, slowly, that feeling eased, while we played with those fireworks, and we talked about our lives. She said she didn’t have any friends, and I told her it was the same with me. It felt so, but so unfair. That girl was so fun and so gentle to me, how could anyone be so mean to her? 

 Time went by, and we were enjoying it to the fullest. Not once we told each other our names, but the connection we had… that was destiny. Suddenly, her dad came, saying she had to leave. There was a stand taking photos of us, and I asked if I could take one. I had some coins and it was thankfully enough to pay for the photo. Her dad said it was okay, and we took the photo. I told her I would keep it, but one day I’d find her and give her a copy. I promised, from the bottom of my heart, we would enjoy the fireworks again. We would have fun again, and we would be each other’s best friend forever. She left, and soon my sister found me and we left too. My days felt empty without her, with the soon realization that I wouldn’t be able to find her easily.

 That summer was about to end, when I fell very ill. I spent a long time at the hospital, and it was uneasy. I didn’t go to school, which made me quite happy, but I couldn’t do anything I liked. I had nightmares every night, and I wasn’t getting any better. One day I got worse, really worse, and my heart stopped. I was technically dead for a few seconds. They did reanimate me, but something happened that day. Something big.

 I was in a huge garden, walking around, when I saw a dahlia. I remembered it being my mom’s favorite flower. She talked to me, asked me what I wanted. I said: “I want a world that’s fair. I want a world where I can play with her when I want to.” The flower looked at me, with pitiful eyes. She granted my wish, and told me I had to want it purely and intensely, then, whenever I fell asleep, I would be able to go to this world and meet her. She asked me if I wanted anything else, and I said that, not for me, but for my poor, worrying mother, it would be good if I got better. She stared at me pitifully again, and said “I’ll give you that, and something else you’ll have later. Don’t you want to be seen? Don’t you want to be understood? Don’t you want to be loved? Don’t you want to shine? I’ll give you that, that and much more.” I wondered if the dahlia wanted anything from me, or if it was deserven. I wondered if that was real, or if I just hallucinated or had a vivid dream. I wondered and pondered for a long time, but in a week I was back at home. 

 Whenever I looked at that photo and wished from the bottom of my heart for us to meet, whenever I wanted it more than anything else, I met her. I guess… I guess she didn’t recognize me, since I appeared in many different forms, somewhat scared of myself. Then I grew up, changed how I looked, screamed my name to the world, and somehow, destiny linked us again. But she, no matter how many times looked at me, couldn’t remember who I was. I had that wish that the dahlia granted me, I had some fame and everyone had heard my voice. But the most special thing for me, those fireworks in the night sky, the comfort I felt… I couldn’t bring her to remember it was me. My dreams were some kind of safe place, but I started getting sad… the hints I gave her were useless. So I did what had to be done… I made it more obvious. I wrote a love song. 

[toujokaname]

A Handsome Man In The Midst Of Good Luck / Episode 3

Author: Chitose Umeda

Characters: HiMERU, Kaoru, Tomoya, Aira

""HiMERU" is the only one who can decide for "HiMERU"."

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Season: Winter

Location: Break Room

The next day

HiMERU: (A luxury blend coffee exclusively available in these vending machines... HiMERU will buy it.)

(...Mm? Come to think of it, this vending machine comes with a prize. The roulette is spinning.)

8, 8, 8―8?

(Amazing, all the numbers are in order.... But now is not the time for leisure. Once HiMERU has won, he has to choose another drink.)

(But for HiMERU, this one coffee is enough... Hm?)

―Hakaze-senpai, you're just in time.

Kaoru: HiMERU-kun? You want something from me?

HiMERU: HiMERU won the vending machine roulette. He has to choose a product in about twenty seconds...

Could you please choose a drink to your liking and accept it?

Kaoru: What? I get to choose~? The time limit will be up while I'm at a loss.

Well, I'll take your word for it... I'll get this juice ♪

I'm sorry that you had to give it to me when I was just passing by.

HiMERU: No, it was simply more than what HiMERU bargained for. It was a relief to come across Hakaze-senpai.

Kaoru: But still... I've never seen a vending machine with a perfect roulette wheel. I guess you can win at this kind of thing.

HiMERU: HiMERU also did not expect to win. And it should not be a high probability, either.

Kaoru: You're lucky, aren't you? Could it be the power of Inaba-kun, the White Rabbit? ♪

HiMERU: ...Why does Hakaze-senpai know that name?

Kaoru: I heard about it last night as I talked with Rei-kun when he came home. "Something like this happened in today's recording~" He said.

When I heard about it, all I could think was that it must be a strange feeling to have a rabbit tell your fortune.

And so, when I actually come across HiMERU-kun experiencing good luck... "What if the fortune-telling was right...?" I can't help but think that~

HiMERU: So that's how it is. It is true, but even though he got a strange feeling when Inaba-san jumped onto HiMERU's lap...

HiMERU does not believe that the divination will bring him immense fortune.

The way he won the roulette in the vending machine was also nothing more than a coincidence... He considers it just a low-probability event that he encountered.

Kaoru: Really? I think you'd have more fun if you thought of yourself as lucky.

I mean. You just said "also" about winning the roulette. Could it be that you had some other lucky break?

HiMERU: ―Nothing that can be called immense fortune.

However, on the way home from the TV station last night, HiMERU didn't get stuck at a traffic light even once.

And in the game Nagumo was playing, he got what might be called a "godly pull". But that's about it.

Kaoru: Huh, so then you did get other lucky breaks.

So, it means that you might be in for a big stroke of good luck from now on, right~? Because they even told you to be prepared for the whole day tomorrow, didn't they?

HiMERU: So you know that much.

Kaoru: Ahaha, sorry? Rei-kun talks, and I'm a good listener ♪

...Oh, that's right. Didn't they recently put bags of random sweets that you can win in the break room?

HiMERU: Yes, they did. Such as candies and chewing gum that you can find in a candy store.

Kaoru: How about trying your luck with it?

Well, though I wouldn't call it "immense fortune" if you're just winning some cheap candy.

HiMERU: ―Alright. As a token of gratitude for accepting the juice, HiMERU will go along with your idea.

Kaoru: Okay, so... Candy, chewing gum, chocolate, gummies. It doesn't matter which ones, let's draw a few at random.

HiMERU: Well then...

Kaoru: Whoa? Without looking, you grabbed what was at the very top.

HiMERU: HiMERU thought it might not be a pure test of luck if he examined them too carefully.

Kaoru: That’s true, too. If you really are lucky, you should be right no matter which one you take.

HiMERU: HiMERU himself doesn't believe it, but that's the way it is. Let's open them now.

Kaoru: Okay. These things have a label inside the bag or package that says if it's a winner or not~

Wow, the gummy I just opened is a winner! How about you, HiMERU-kun?

HiMERU: ...Candy and chocolate, both are winners.

Kaoru: Eh? Hold on a sec. I'll try to open the chewing gum that hasn't been opened yet―

HiMERU & Kaoru: "Winner"...

Kaoru: ...No way. I know I'm the one who suggested this, but this is an unexpected turn of events, isn't it?

HiMERU: ―HiMERU, too, is honestly at a loss on how to comment on such a series of coincidences.

Kaoru: I wonder if it's just a coincidence... Don't you think your good luck has started after all, HiMERU-kun?

HiMERU: No, it is just a coincidence. In the first place, we don't know how many of these candies there are, or how many of them are winners.

Kaoru: Mmm... I just opened some gummies and chocolates, and they were both "losers".

"I thought I could ride on this wave...!" That's what I thought, so I'm a little disappointed.

...And that's the state I'm in. But you don't seem to be pleased with all these wins.

I could feel it in every word. HiMERU-kun, are you the type of person who doesn't believe in fortune-telling, no matter how good the results are?

HiMERU: ...That may be the case.

One's words and actions are not necessarily those of another person or third party―In the current situation, it's fortune-telling...

HiMERU doesn't feel comfortable being perceived in a fixed way by forces outside of him or by something he can't see.

"HiMERU" is the only one who can decide for "HiMERU".

Kaoru: Hmm... Is that what HiMERU-kun's policy is?

Well, everyone has their own way of thinking. If you're going to stick to it just being coincidence, so be it.

???: Ah~! HiMERU-senpai, there you are...!

???: I finally found him! Sakuma-senpai, this way!

HiMERU & Kaoru: ...?

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[phoeniix17]

bubble-gum b*tch

TITLE : bubble-gum b*tch

FANDOM : Stranger Things

PAIRING : Eddie Munson x Reader

WORD COUNT : 989

WARNINGS : little swearing 

SUMMARY : Being a metalhead in Hawkins isn't always a good thing, and your lifelong rival has made that clear by sticking gum in your hair. But just when you thought you'd have to cut it all off, Eddie may come to your rescue.

High School was hell. Actually, it was that annoying because of that bitch Lydia. She hated me for no real reason except that I was different from the others, clothing-wise. But I had never disrespected her, or even spoken to her. She just hated me because I was a freak. 

And today, she had found the worst possible crap that could be done to me. She must have stuck at least four or five pieces of gum in my hair that I cherished so much. By the time I realized it, it was too late. I immediately left the cafeteria without taking the time to finish my plate and ran to the bathroom hoping to save a few strands. 

But when I saw myself in the mirror, I couldn't hold back the tears. It was over for me, I was going to have to shave everything and end up completely bald. She had amused herself by placing them in such a way that they were spread everywhere so that I could not save anything. I hated her. And my anger quickly turned into sobs that I could not hold back. 

- Y/N? someone asked me outside the bathroom. 

Shit. Eddie. I hadn't said hello to him today, and he must have seen me running across the cafeteria without even giving him a smile; me who usually always came to chat with him at the Hellfire table after I finished my plate. 

- You good in there? he asked me. 

- Yes, everything is fine, I answered with a trembling voice that betrayed my tears. 

But I heard him enter the bathroom. I quickly wiped my eyes with the back of my sleeve, but I knew he wouldn't be fooled. He slowly approached me and gently took my face between his fingers.

- What happened darling? he asked me. 

- It's that bitch. It's stupid but- she stuck gum in my hair and- I started to explain before I started to cry again, I was pathetic.

I felt him take a few strands of hair and look at them. I didn't even want to imagine what he must be thinking right now. 

- Easy, I'll take care of it, he just said. 

- How?! At this point I'll have to cut everything! I'll end up bald! I cried with anger.

- I've been through this before, dummy. Do you really think they were going to make me cut my hair off because they stuck gum in it? he laughed.

I was confused. He grabbed my hand and led me into the kitchen. He explained the situation to one of the women working here and she returned a few moments later with a bowl of ice cubes. I didn't know what we were going to use it for, but apparently Eddie knew what he was doing, so I trusted him. Nothing worse could happen anyway. I then saw him take a cube and place it on my hair where the gum was. And after a little while, it came off without any difficulty. I couldn't believe it, and I was grateful to him for getting me out of that situation with dignity. 

After a good 15 minutes, he was done, and my hair looked as good as it did before. 

- And we're done, he said with a proud voice. 

- You know that I am eternally in debt to you now? I said.

- It's nothing, I'm used to doing that, he replied with a small voice.

- Really? I asked him with sadness. 

- What can I say? The important thing is that your hair is saved, he said to change the subject. Now, show me that Lydia so I can deal with her. 

- No, it will be fine, I promise, I begged him.

He agreed without a second thought, but I could see in his eyes that he would still find a way to get his revenge, he was Eddie, I couldn't change him. Just then, the bell rang, a sign for us to return to class. But just before we did, I stood on my tiptoes and placed a brief kiss on his cheek in thanks. 

----

By the end of our class day, he had convinced me to get revenge. He assured me that he would not do anything illegal, but that she had to pay for what she had done to me. I wasn't completely against it, although I felt some remorse for putting her through whatever torture Eddie had invented. And let's just say that with DnD, he had many ideas. And when he explained his evil plan to me, I was almost afraid. 

He had gathered the entire Hellfire Club to put it all together. Lydia had a fairly precise routine. On her way out of class, she would always stop by the basketball court to chat with a player she particularly liked. And that was the perfect place to set up the plan. 

They had managed by who knows what ways to get their hands on a jar of white glue, the kind that went off easily with water when it was on your skin, but took years when it was in your hair. 

And they planned to empty it on her when she was in the right place, which was right next to the locker room because they could hide behind a small wall without being seen. 

These boys were evil, but I was beginning to appreciate how things were going to work out. Eddie and I were a little out of the way so we could get a good view of the scene.

And when it happened, I felt my heart fill with satisfaction. She deserved to pay the ultimate price for what she had put me through for months. I looked at Eddie with a mischievous little smile, and he kissed me on my forehead. He then grabbed my hand and we ran off to avoid being seen.

Karma was a bitch. 

[absolutepokemontrash]

You Can’t Handle The Tooth

A very very short fic where Luke needs a loose baby tooth pulled, but he’s really nervous about it.

Genre: Crack

Warnings: Teeth stuff

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Wiggle…wiggle…wiggle…

Luke toyed with his loose tooth in front of the mirror, brows creasing as his eyes followed each little shake.

Wiggle…wiggle…wiggle…

“Luke, you’re going to be late for school, are you still in bed?” Simeon knocked before slowly opening the door and sticking his head in the room. Luke didn’t have time to answer, he had much more pressing things to deal with! “What’s wrong?”

“Oh Simeon!” Luke cried, pointing at his loose canine. ���My tooth! It’s awful!”

“Ah,” all the concern melted off Simeon face, and an almost cheeky smile replaced it. “How long has it been loose for? I could pull it out for you-”

“NO!”

“E-eh?”

“NEVER! You’re not touching my tooth!” Luke covered his mouth protectively with his hands, pushing a little too hard on the loose tooth and causing a dull ache in his gums. “Not after what happened last time!”

“L-last time?”

Luke shuddered at the memory. “We tried to pull one of my front teeth too early… and it hurt sooooo much and got stuck… one of the older angels had to get it out with pliers…”

The little Angel said that last part in a whisper, as if repeating what happened would summon dozens of plier monsters to steal his remaining baby teeth. Simeon chuckled slightly before covering it up with a cough, but even Luke could still see the ghost of a smile on his face.

“I promise I won’t hurt you, would you like to try-”

“No!” Luke shook his head so hard his hat slipped onto his face. “It needs to fall out naturally so it doesn’t hurt!”

Simeon blinked a few times in surprise, before shrugging and sighing. “If you say so, Luke. Now we’re going to miss school if you don’t get going.”

—————————

And wait for the tooth to fall out naturally, Luke did. But OH MY GOD WAS IT ANNOYING.

After a fatal incident where Luke bit down on a cookie Barbatos had made, his tooth was majorly loose. Every time he bit something, the tooth would click back and hit the roof of his mouth, causing one of the most aggravating pains of Luke’s (albeit short for an Angel) life.

Eating soft foods at lunch? “OW!”

Hopping up and down stairs? “OW!”

Just talking? “OW OW OW!”

As much as this was grating on Luke, it was grating on the demons and the other exchange students more.

“You know, Luke,” Beel said, munching on a muffin that Luke had given up to him. “I could pull it out for you.”

“Wh- no! I already told you!” Luke huffed, crossing his arms and slumping forward, causing his teeth to click together and once again, hitting the loose tooth. “I’m waiting for it to fall out naturally.”

Belphie, who was asleep next to Beel, let out a surprised snore, opened his eyes, and scanned the area before his eyes landed on Luke.

“Snrk- ugh… loose tooth?” He asked.

“Mhm…”

“Give me five minutes, let me get the pliers.” Belphie shifted to get up, but the horrified expression on Luke’s face froze him in his tracks. “Y-you alright Chihuahua?”

“NOOOOOOOOOO!”

Luke screamed and ran down the hall and completely out of sight, leaving the two bewildered twins behind.

————————

“Owwww…” Luke whimpered, rubbing his upper lip in an attempt to massage his sore gums. He was sitting next to Leviathan in the library during what was supposed to be a relaxing study period, but nope. His tooth was once again ruining his day.

Levi grimaced and rolled his eyes as his thumbs just missed the next tiles. Piano Tiles was a game meant to be won with little to no distractions, but the chihuahua was really getting on Levi’s last nerve. He slowly turned to look at Luke, what he hoped to be a gentle smile on his face.

“L-listen, why don’t I help you with that?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

Levi went redder than ketchup as embarrassment rushed to his face. “W-well! I know yo-you probably d-don’t want the help of some worthless Otaku, but I can get your tooth out.”

“Huh?”

Levi turned to face Luke fully and lowered himself to his level. “Y-yeah, just let me get some twine and-”

The Avatar of Envy reached forward, and as quick as a bolt of lighting, a resounding CRACK echoed through the entire library. Levi’s face snapped to the right as a red spot began to grow on his cheek. Luke’s chair screeched as he roughly pushed it out and bolted for the door.

“SIMEEEEEEOOOOOOOON!”

His shouts revived an angry shush from the poor librarian.

“G-geez…” Levi rubbed the spot on his cheek, it didn’t particularly sting, and Luke had really soft little hands. “Like being slapped by a squishamellow…”

———————

“Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!” Luke whined as he went down each step of the school’s front stairs. The Avatar of Greed let out an annoyed groan from behind him.

“Fido, I’m serious, if ya don’t stop with the whinin’ I’m gonna take away your extra walkies.”

Luke went a colour that could only be described as the brightest shade of red ever conceived as he turned to berate Mammon. “My name is- ow- it’s Luke!”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Mammon rolled his eyes waved his hand in the air. “What’s the big idea about this stupid tooth anyway? Don’tcha know what you’ll get once it comes out?”

“Hm? What..?”

“Money!” Mammon said with a megawatt smile. “The tooth fairy’ll give ya some pocket change in exchange for your tooth! A pretty fair trade if ya ask me.”

“I don’t need money.” Luke huffed, frowning up at Mammon. “I save my allowance. Unlike some.”

Mammon choked on a gasp before coughing up a storm. Luke turned around and kept walking. No use in trying to reason with scumbags like him!

“Oi! That’s a pretty mean thing for an Angel to say!” Mammon shouted. He grabbed the back of Luke’s collar and spun him around. “Listen kid, I know ya want your tooth to fall out ‘naturally’ or whatever, but what if the Great Mammon made takin’ your tooth out fun?”

“F-fun?” Luke asked tentatively, Mammon grinned and nodded.

“Yeah! I’ll get a bit of twine, wrap it around that sucker and attach the end of the twine to the bumper of my car. Then I put the pedal to the medal and the tooth becomes a distant memory! What do ya say?”

Luke and Mammon had about four seconds of awkward sustained eye contact… until Luke raised a small bottle and sprayed its contents right into Mammon’s eyes.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHH!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”

The two of them screamed as Luke ran off towards Purgatory Hall at top speed. Mammon clawed at his eyes before he realized… Luke had sprayed him with water. Not holy water. Regular water.

…damn it chihuahua.

—————

“Ah, hello Chihuahua.”

No… in his own home…

There stood in the doorway to the living room… evil incarnate. The worst of the worst… the baddest of the bad… the sadists of sadists… the most refined scum in the entire Devildom… the giver of bad nicknames…

Lucifer… the Avatar of Pride…

Well, the most refined dickhead in the Devildom was wearing quite the chipper smile on his eeeeeeviiiil face.

“What do you want?” Luke sneered, Lucifer only smiled and sat next to the Angel.

“I’ve heard about your little debacle and I’m here to help.” Lucifer said, slowly reaching out his hand. “Just hold still.”

“NO!”

“LUCIFER FREEZE.”

Ah! A SAVIOUR!

Standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips, stood the human exchange student. Lucifer sat frozen mid grab for the tooth with a expression that could only be described as pure inconvenience. Himiko gently glided across the room and took Luke’s face in her gentle hands, he immediately sank into her touch.

“Oh you poor poor thing!” Himiko cooed, her eyes filled with sympathy. “Has your tooth really been bothering you?”

“Mhm…” Luke sighed mournfully. Even though he would have loved to have told Himiko off for treating him like a little kid… he had to admit, she had a way of making him feel like the most special little Angel in the entire universe.

“Aw, and everyone’s been bothering you? Shame on them!”

“Yeah!”

“Excuse me-”

“Shut up, Lucifer.” Himiko growled before turning back to Luke with the sweetest look he’d ever seen. “Oh Luke, I’ll help, okay? You don’t have to take your tooth out. I know an old human truck that can make all the pain vanish.”

“R-really?” Luke asked, his voice tinged with hope.

“Mhm!” Himiko nodded with the warmest of smiles on her face. “Here, lay down.”

She gently guided Luke’s head to rest in her lap, then patted his head three times.

“Step one! Pat, pat, pat!”

Luke giggled as Himiko then began to boop his nose.

“Step two! Beep, beep, beep!”

“Hi-Himiko…” Luke said through peals of childish giggles. “How’s this supposed to help?”

“Shhh, now for step three. Close your eyes and say aaaaaaaah.”

“Aaaaaaah.”

Luke closed his eyes and he felt Himiko’s fingers close around his tooth, then- nothing. Huh… there was the tiniest of dull aches but he didn’t feel any discomfort. Luke opened his eyes a crack and slowly felt around for his tooth with his tongue. Did Himiko click it back into his skull or something-

THAT HUMAN STOLE HIS TOOTH!

Himiko triumphantly held the baby tooth in two pinched fingers, Lucifer let out a chuckle and shook his head. Luke’s jaw dropped as he leapt off of Himiko’s lap and nearly fell backwards into the coffee table. He pointed an accusatory finger at the two of them as he tried to sputter out a reply.

“Y-y-you tricked me!” Luke gasped, he turned to Lucifer with a furious expression on his little face. “Your awful demon-ness has rubbed off on her! That was sneaky! And cruel! And mean! And-”

“Clever?” Lucifer offered.

“I was going to say awful!” Luke stomped his foot.

“Luke,” Himiko said gently, holding out his tooth. “Come on, it didn’t even hurt, did it?”

“N-no! But you’ve betrayed my trust! I’m never speaking to either of you again!” Luke said as he stomped off towards his room.

Himiko and Lucifer shared a glance as they heard angry footsteps coming back to the living room. Luke stuck out his hand, his cheeks still red with anger.

“I want my tooth back. I deserve some tooth fairy money for this!”

———————

Author’s Note

Betrayal… betrayal of the highest order��� this was just a quick little thing to get me back into the swing of writing :3

I hope you enjoyed!

[looooooooomis]

F I N A L  G I R L  |  F O U R

You were his final girl.  And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t   f o u r  |  k e y s

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 4.4k warnings: angst, s m u t, some more s m u t, teasing, finger-licking good billy boy, implied/referenced cheating, def not a healthy, functioning relationship (but like eh we persevere), some more s m u t. 

Despite your best efforts, the last few days had been miserable without Billy.

You hadn’t realized just how much of a routine he’d become over the last seven months, how much you’d both come to rely on each other and, fuck, did you miss him. You missed his smell, you missed that small little cheeky grin of his, you missed curling up beside him and feeling him over every inch of your skin. Your body craved for him in an almost primal way but, while you could live with denying your body its needs, it was your heart that hurt the most.

What was supposed to be a quick release for the two of you had never been that easy. You’d been in love with the idiot since freshman year, seen him through his various ups and downs and he’d seen yours, too. Which was precisely what made this entire situation that much harder. Not only were you dealing with your own heartache, but you were witnessing his, too.

Billy’s grief was more or less a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it sort of thing. Ever the stoic silent type, you hadn’t expected to see much of what he was feeling splayed out on that handsome face of his, but shocking even you, his regret was palpable. And each and every time those brown eyes met yours, that grief that was as clear as day struck you blind.

You’d tried telling yourself that it was for the best because, in all honesty, it was but that didn’t make the pain go away. Nor did it make you miss him any less. You were trapped in a vicious cycle of missing Billy, sticking to your guns, and worrying about him all at once.

God, you’d really fucked up with this one.

“You sure you’re okay?” Tatum asked, narrowing her eyes at you as you shoved a handful of books into your locker. “You’ve been scatterbrained all week.”

“I’m fine,” you shrugged, “why wouldn’t I be?”

“You tell me,” she leaned her hip against the locker. “Is this about Steve?”

You blinked as the question played on loop in your head. “Steve?” You asked, giving the strawberry blonde your full attention. “First of all, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart: ew. Secondly, huh?”

Tatum smirked. “Don’t play dumb, you’ve been acting all weird since Billy went psycho on his ass last week.”

“No, I haven’t,” you hoped your laugh didn’t sound as fake as it felt. “Also, Steve’s an asshole. If the day ever comes when I am interested in that big oaf, feel free to euthanize me.”

“Promise,” she made a motion of crossing her heart, “but in the meantime, you swear nothing is up?”

“Cross my heart,” you mimicked the gesture and shut your locker. “What are you up to after practice tonight? Want to go see that new Brad Pitt movie?”

Her shoulders fell. “Can’t, Stu’s coming over,” she unwrapped a lollipop and shoved it in her mouth. “I’d say ask Sid, but she got into it with Billy last night so she’s in a mood.”

You tried not to care, you really did, but her words hit you like a freight train. “They did?” You asked, hoping beyond hope that your voice didn’t sound quite as high pitched as it sounded in your head. “What happened?”

“Who knows,” Tatum shrugged, “Billy’s always been a little intense and Sid’s been a little cagey since…well, you know – so, it’s bound to happen.”

You swallowed hard and continued to nod along to Tatum’s words. Were you nodding too frequently? Did you appear too interested all of the sudden? Catching yourself, you focused on the leftover gum on the locker just behind your friend’s head and cleared your throat. “That’s shitty.”

“Relationships,” Tatum waved off, “they’re all pretty shitty sometimes.”

Before you could finish putting your foot in your mouth any further, the third bell rang out signaling your next class. Your most dreaded class: Biology. With a groan you tossed your bag over your shoulder and frowned across at Tatum. “See you at practice?”

With a nod, Tatum took off towards her class as you slowly sauntered towards your own. You were halfway down the hall when you heard a set of heavy footfalls running towards you from behind. Glancing over your shoulder, you barely had time to register Stu’s smiling face before he threw an arm around your shoulders. “How ya doing, pal?”

“Peachy,” you scraped your eyes along his profile and blinked. “If you’re about to play the rule of dutiful henchman for you know who, I’ve got a class to flunk.”

“Harsh,” Stu beamed, “I see why our boy’s so smitten.”

With a roll of your eyes, you glanced around at the people around you and glowered up at him. “Stu,” you warned, “I’m not in the mood for this.”

“For what?” He feigned innocence. “I haven’t said a word.”

“But you want to,” you mused. “And I don’t want to hear it.”

Stu chuckled. “All I was going to say is, like, I get it.”

You shouldn’t have taken his bait. What you should have done was push him off of you and continue on your merry way to class. That would have been the smart thing to do, the responsible thing to do.

Too bad you were neither of those two things.

Roped in, you sighed in defeat. “Get what?”

“I’ll be the first to admit,” he began, “when Bill told me that you and him were…you know, I laughed. I mean, two broads, man? I can barely handle the one how’s he going to deal with two of you?”

“I’m hoping there’s a point coming,” you groused.

“Right,” he laughed again, “my point is that I get it. I get why you two work. Why he’s knee deep in this big fucking mess because of it. You two work.”

“Stu,” you threw your head back and glared at the ceiling. “Stop.”

“What?” He asked. “Am I wrong?”

You gently pushed him away from you and dropped your voice into a whisper. “That’s not the point. He’s with Sid.”

“So?” Stu made a face. “Her mom just died, what do you want him to do? Dump her and break her heart? Her mom just died, that’d callous, man.”

“We’re breaking her heart either way, whether she knows it or not.”

Stu stopped walking and there was a compassion in his stare that left you reeling. For as long as you’d known him, Stu Macher had always been the goof. The reckless, chaotic idiot that seemed to fit just perfectly into your little mish mash of a group. But the sincerity in his blue eyes as the two of you stood in the emptying hallway was a look you’d never seen before.

“And by doing this, you’re breaking yours.” He limply shrugged. “Billy’s, too.”

Your shoulders fell as the weight of Stu’s words sank in. You couldn’t exactly say much in terms of a rebuttal, naturally, because he was right. There were no happy endings for either of you at this point in the charade. Sid had still been lied to and cheated on, Billy was still trapped in a relationship he no longer wished to be in in fear of hurting the girl he once loved and you were stuck in the middle, watching two people you cared for fall to bits while having to remain stoic in fear of showing your hand.

What a fucking mess.

After another minute of silence, Stu wriggled his eyebrows and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. “Just something to think about.”

Taking off down the hall, Stu left you to your own devices as you stood in the middle of an empty hallway with far too much on your mind. In an almost zombie-like trance, you took off in the direction of your biology class, not quite caring that you were about to be marked as tardy for the third time that week. But, before you got to that god-forsaken class, you heard the click of a door not far off before a pair of arms encircled around your middle, yanking you into the nearest classroom. A surprise yelp tore out of your mouth, but the full-fledged scream died in your throat as soon as you realized just who it was who had grabbed you.

“Jesus, Billy, you scared the hell out of me.” You grasped your chest and took in the dark, empty classroom around you. He was still holding you against the nearest wall, you could feel the heat of those large hands through your thin shirt. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Sorry,” despite the desperation in those brown eyes, his voice never wavered. It was still as calm and collected as ever. “I’d go to your house, but it’s been like Fort Knox for the last week or so.”

You chewed on your lip for a moment before averting your eyes to the ground, not quite being able to stomach the weight of his stare just yet. “Billy, unless anything’s changed, I—”

“In case anything’s changed?” He reiterated with raised brows. “Everything’s changed. I miss you, Y/N, more than you can even comprehend. I know I’ve fucked up, I know that, but I need you. The last nine days without being able to really see you or feel you or kiss you or—”

“I get it,” you held your hands up and gently pushed him away. “And it’s been hard on me, too, Billy. But it doesn’t change anything.”

For a few, long, agonizing moments, Billy remained still as a thousand different emotions splayed out across his face. There was anger and grief, sadness and desperation. But the look you got as he dropped to his knees in front of you was pure, unadulterated fear. “I promise you, Y/N, the second I can, when the time is right, Sid and I will be no more. But me and you are it, sweetheart,” his hands gently circled around your hips before embracing you around your middle. “I’m so fucking sorry that this is how it has to be right now. And I’m sorry that I’m too fucking selfish to let this go, but I can’t. I need you. I need us. You’re everything good in my life and I know I need to start proving that to you.”

Still, you remained quiet. Your fingers itched to reach out and run your fingers through that slightly greasy, unruly mop of hair, but instead you kept them pinned down at your side as you considered his words. There was no doubt in your mind that he meant them, the desperation on his face said as much, but you had your reservations. Taking your silence in stride, however, Billy simply reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box.

Your heart nearly stopped.

“Oh, jesus,” you grumbled, burying your head in your hands. “You better not be doing what I think you’re fucking doing.”

“Open the box, Y/N.”

“No,” you held your hands up. “Not if it’s…that.”

Billy sighed. The muscle in his cheek twitched. “It’s not a fucking engagement ring.”

Somewhat relieved, you continued to stare down at the box in slight disdain. “So, what is it?”

Billy sighed. “Fucking open it and you’ll see.”

“Buying the ‘other woman’ jewelry, Billy?” You shook your head. “You’re like a walking cliché at this point.”

“Shut-up and open the goddamn box.” Standing up to his full height, he continued to hold the box out towards you and breathed out a quiet laugh when you remained unwavering. “It’s not a fucking bomb, Y/N, open it.”

With a sigh, you snatched the box out of his hand and, rather unceremoniously, opened it up to reveal a key. Not a fancy skeleton key or a charm in the shape of a key but a regular, run of the mill house key. You blinked, mildly surprised. “Okay, I’ll give you a point for creativity with the box,” you pulled the key out and observed it. “But what is it?”

“It’s a key,” Billy said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“I see that,” a small smile pulled at your lips as you looked across at him. “What’s it for?”

“It’s a key to my parents’ cabin.”

If you were meant to understand the significance, the story was lost on you. Looking back down at the key, you surveyed its tiny ridges briefly before nodding. “And what’s that have to do with me?”

He took a step towards you and grabbed the hand still clutching onto the key. “My dad doesn’t go up there much ever since my mother left and I figure we could both use a place where we can just…be.” His raked his thumbnail along your knuckles. “No Sid, no anyone. Just you and me.”

You were trying to remain unfazed by the sentiment, to remain icy and cool to the man you were supposed to be pulling away from, but between the softness in those warm brown eyes and the weight of the key still clutched in your hand, you could feel your defenses waning. “You expect Sid to just not care that you’re disappearing up north every once in a while?”

“I’ll make it work,” he shrugged it off. “And, to be honest, I don’t care what she thinks.”

Your answer came in the form of a long, drawn out sigh. “Billy,” you began, but before you could dive into the rest of your speech, his large hands slid up your arms and neck to cradle your face.

Slowly, he backed you into a nearby desk and traced the apple of your cheek with his thumb. “We can sneak up there whenever we want. Spend a whole weekend up there, just the two of us. I can worship this fucking body of yours in every square inch of that cabin. I can go into town and hold your fucking hand in public. We can do whatever the hell it is we want to do up there, whenever we want, without worrying about any of our idiot friends seeing us.”

Your pulse quickened at the thought of being able to parade around like a normal couple in a town where not a single soul knew who you were. You swallowed, trying to steady your excitement with a dose of realism. “It’s still not fair to Sidney.”

“Fuck Sidney!” Billy’s voice echoed out around the vast, empty classroom, alarming you with just how angry he sounded. His chest heaved with a white-hot rage that you couldn’t fully comprehend, and his jaw was wound shut as his nostrils flared with each and every heavy, uneven breath he took. You swallowed hard and watched the man steady his nerves, unsure of your next move. You’d seen Billy angry before, but that level of emotion was definitely new.

You weren’t sure whether to be terrified or turned on by the sudden outburst.

But, just as quickly as it happened, Billy’s eyes slowly opened to reveal those molasses coloured eyes again. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he appeased. “But I can’t have her stand in the way of this. I won’t.”

You remained silent as you shimmied on top of the desk that had been poking into your ass for the last few seconds and tried not to focus on the way your body seemed to melt into Billy’s as he stepped in between your legs, still looking at you with all the intensity of the world.

“If we do this,” you found yourself muttering, “there’s going to be some ground rules.”

A sense of hope blossomed in Billy’s chest as he vigorously nodded his head. “Anything you want,” sliding his hands up the sides your stomach, he gently held your waist and gave it a small squeeze. “You name it.”

“When we go up to the aforementioned cabin, we go out.” You told him. “While I’m more than happy to blow you in the living room without worrying about your dad walking in, it would be nice to go on an actual fucking date.”

Billy nodded and, with his hands still on your waist, he tried not to focus on the thin cotton of your shirt bunching between his fingers as his thumb danced along your ribcage. There was so little between you in the empty classroom, barely any space as the two of you were practically nose to nose. And between that short little skirt you had on and your pert nipples beneath your thin tank top, it was enough to make his cock twitch inside of his pants. “Anything else?” He asked, his voice husky as he nudged his nose against yours.

“Yeah,” you ran your tongue along your now parched lips as you sat with Billy standing between your thighs, holding you in place as his thumb traced agonizingly close to your tit. Were you even breathing? It didn’t feel like it. You were wet, too, which made his inhumanly close proximity almost too much to bear. “Lock the fucking door this time.”

A roguish grin enveloped his features as he stepped out from between your legs. Crossing the threshold of the classroom in two seconds flat, Billy locked the door and made his way back to you with that same mischievous glimmer in his eye. His eyes were hungry and, as his hands shifted down to your ass, he tugged you even closer to the edge of the desk. Closer to him. With your legs still open and on either side of his hips, you just about died when your clit managed to rub against the zipper of his jeans.

A quiet, low moan tore out of your throat from the sensation.

“Anything else?” He asked, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Yeah,” your breathing was ragged as Billy’s slow, methodical fingers, trailed up the side of your stomach. He was being extraordinarily temperate and slow to further tease you but, despite knowing how risky this was, you were putty in his hands. “Touch me.”

His nose brushed against yours again as he shifted his hips just enough for the zipper of his jeans to rub against your clit again. The bastard knew what he was doing.

“This feel good?” He asked as his hips toiled into you again.  

You were practically dry fucking against the desk, you could have been caught any second. But, fuck, when he pulled you in a little more and slowly gyrated his jean-clad pelvis against your clit again, you couldn’t care less. “Mhmm,” you hummed.

Slowly, Billy’s dept fingers slid up from your waist towards your breasts. Raking his thumb against the swollen bud, he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on the side of your neck.

He knew his jeans were rubbing against your clit and, as he looked down and saw the visible wet patch on your blue thong, he wanted nothing more than to rip them off of you and bury his face in between your legs. “God, I’ve fucking missed you.”

When his hand squeezed your breast, you arched into his grasp. “I bet you did.”

Billy smirked and rolled your nipples between his fingers through the fabric of your shirt. With every roll of your hips, the strap of your shirt slipped down just enough to expose your breast. Without missing a beat, Billy leaned into your chest and allowed his mouth to consume your nipple, swirling his tongue around it expertly before biting down. You hissed as a combination of both pain and pleasure ripped through your body.

Your fingers curled around the hair along the nape of his neck and gave it a firm tug as is hands held you firmly in place. “Fuck, Billy” you moaned, breathless.

He released your nipple slowly, nipping at it one final time before leaning his forehead against yours again. You wanted like hell to close the distance between you. You wanted to feel his lips on yours. Feel the tickle of his stubble along your upper lip and have that expert tongue brush against yours.

But you also wanted to make him sweat a little.  

You weren’t sure what had come over you as you slid your hand down your torso. Maybe it was adrenaline of being caught or the relief of having Billy in your arms again but as you allowed your fingers to dip beneath the hem of your exposed thong, the look on Billy’s face made it all worth it.

“What are you doing?” His Adams apple bobbed up and down as he watched you touch yourself. You were in an awkward angle, but as your finger circled your clit and you watched the bulge in his pants grow, you were coasting high.

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” You hummed, feigning innocence. “When I say touch me, I mean it, Billy. I’m taking matters into my own hands.” You pinched your clit and arched your naked chest into him. “Fuck.”

You heard him swear under his breath as his lips ghosted over yours. “You’re doing my head in, woman,” he growled, sliding his fingers beneath your panties. You gasped when his thumb began to circle your clit. And when he slid two fingers inside of you, you nearly saw stars.

His mouth found yours, mid-moan. Reaching the hand that had just been down the waistband of your shorts, you ran your fingers through his hair as his tongue coaxed yours. Everything about this man was electric. His fingers quickened their pace and before you knew it, you were thrusting into his hand. Placing sloppy kisses down from your mouth and along your jaw, Billy nipped at your ear. “How’s this for touching you, sweetheart?” He hissed, licking and biting his way across your neck.

Your breathing was rampant as you felt yourself edging closer and closer. “It’s alright,” you teased with a cloudy grin.

“So stubborn,” he laughed into your neck and curled his fingers so that he hit an area inside you that felt almost primal. The moan he got in return made him bite down on your collarbone. He curled his fingers again and you nearly choked. “You sure?”

Pulling his hair, you steered his face back to yours and crashed your lips against his. “Fuck me.” You mumbled into his mouth.

He applied the smallest bit of pressure to your clit and flicked his fingers one final time, sending you over the cliff. With a long, shaky moan, you bucked your hips uncontrollably as you came into his hand. Every inch of you felt as though it was on fire as Billy made you ride out your orgasm, not for a second easing up on your clit as you writhed beneath him.

“Play with your tits,” he barked out through hooded eyes.

“You play with them,” you argued, but the resolve in your voice was gone. You weren’t entirely sure if you knew your name at that point. All you could focus on was the feeling of his finger pinching your highly sensitive clit and that was it. Everything else was a blur.

“God, you’re so fucking stubborn.”

You were so wet and so turned on you could barely think straight. “Billy,” you pleaded, your entire body heating up almost unbearably so. When he ignored you and instead continued his attack on your clit, you whimpered. “I need you to fuck me.”

With a bruising kiss, Billy released your clit and, in seconds flat, tugged his jeans far enough down his hips before slipping inside of you. The moan that escaped your lips was undeniable as he pumped into you. Reaching up, he grabbed your tit and squeezed as he bit down on your exposed neck. It was a sensory overload coming from all angles.

“Fuck,” Billy’s hoarse voice was in your ear as he pumped into you. “You feel so fucking good, Y/N.” He reached for your face and tilted your chin up towards him, meeting you halfway with a sloppy kiss. Moaning into his mouth, you managed lose yourself in that instance.

Gone was the room around you.

Hell, gone was everything up until this point.

All you could focus on was the feeling of Billy inside of you. Biting down on his lip, you tugged it back as he rolled his hips in a way that made you quiver. He was thrusting, hard, in an almost animalistic that made your entire body shake with the velocity of every desperate push. He moved between kissing your lips, to biting them to suckling your neck as he continued to rail into you with all of passion in the world. He was a man, unhinged, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever seen him so sexy.

Not surprising in the least, it didn’t take him long to come. You’d riled him up to the point of no return and, as you felt him come inside of you, you all but laughed when his forehead dramatically fell against your own.

For a few minutes, neither of you moved, simply just remained still and firmly pressed against one another. But, as the weight of your current whereabouts slowly dawned on either of you, you both slowly pulled away from each other, both wearing a small smile as you re-dressed yourselves.

Once his pants were done up, Billy stepped into you once again and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Cabin this weekend, okay?”

You nodded and hopped down from the desk. “Yeah, maybe,” you teased, fixing your skirt.

Billy’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, maybe, eh?”

“Yeah,” you winked, “I’ll think about it.”

“Smart ass,” Billy smirked. “That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one of these days.”

“I’m counting on it.” Once you were both fixed up, you nodded towards his hand which was still slicked with your juices. You laughed. “Oops.”

But Billy didn’t seem fazed. Instead, your breath hitched in your throat when he raised his hand to his lips and licked your slick clear off, relishing in the taste of it with a knowing smirk on his face. “This weekend.” He reiterated, driving the point home.

“This weekend,” you agreed, walking towards the door. Ensuring nobody saw the two of you leave an empty classroom together, you unlocked the door and gave Billy a small, knowing smile. “See you at lunch, lover boy.”

[agerestorybits]

Skitter bitty

 Virgil has a problem. The fact that when he regresses his spider traits come out. Multiple eyes and long spider legs out of his back. He also shrunk down to child size normally around eight or younger. While in his littlespace he would hide and panic every time he heard someone get close. He often climbed up into the corner of the ceiling of his room where it was darkest, or under his bed, or the back of his closet. 

But he could only hide it for so long...

(During Selfishness vs selflessness redux)

Virgil was about two and deeply upset, to the point of curling up under his bed his oversized hood pulled over his head. The patches on the back were carefully placed so his spider legs could slip out an unsewn side of the patches and hug him tightly. He heard the door open before something landed heavily on his bed. He cried out in fear before slapping a hand over his mouth.

Remus’ head was suddenly in front of his upside down, “So THERE you are! I-” Remus trailed off as he looked at the multiple solid blacks eyes staring back at him from a too small face. Remus rolled off the bed to lay on the floor face to face with Virgil.

“G-go away.” Virgil said, trying to not sound scared. He pointed towards the door as he curled further under the bed.

“Mmmm nah. That would be irresponsible to leave you alone Spider bitty.” Remus said before pulling out a clean handkerchief and gently drying off the tears from Virgil’s cheeks. Virgil flinched from the first touch but when Remus waited for him to move towards him, he relaxed and let Remus keep going.

“You’re not grossed out?” Virgil asked hesitantly.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Really? You think I’m going to be grossed out by a couple cool extra legs?” He let his tentacles out so they could lay unthreatening on the floor.

“Oh.” Virgil blinked before tensing. “You gonna to hurt me?”

“I won’t.” Remus said softly. “I know I’ve not been the nicest to you but I’m not going to hurt you.”

Virgil slowly crawled out from under the bed, his spider legs uncurled from his body and pulled him out of the dark. Remus retreated a bit so that he wasn’t right in front of Virgil. Virgil stood up on his human legs, Remus stood as well.

There was yelling and Virgil jumped before climbing up Remus and clinging to his back. Remus wrapped a tentacle around him to make sure he didn’t fall off. “Shhh it’s ok.”

“Don’t like loud.” Virgil whispered, pulling his hood down over his face with both hands.

Remus summoned some noise cancelling headphones and gave them to the boy. Virgil snapped them over his ears before taking a deep breath. He started biting his fingernails so Remus made him a cobweb shaped chewie. He had been tempted to make it a fly but didn’t think Virgil would willingly put something that looked like a bug in his mouth.

He slowly shifted Virgil around so he was clinging to his chest instead and sat down cross legged on the bed. He smiled as Virgil curled up against him. He rubbed soothing Circles on his back listening to the yelling from outside.

He leaned back against the headboard, stuck under a toddler. Otherwise he would go join in the chaos. He sighed heavily at the missed opportunity. Oh well. He looked down at Virgil to find him limp and almost asleep. He smiled again, missing out wasn’t that bad.

---

Things were tense afterwards. Virgil cornered Remus and made him swear to never tell anyone, in return Remus demanded that be allowed to hang out with Virgil when he was little.

“Why?” Virgil asked, narrowing his eyes.

Because you need something to help you. “You’re a spider boy, I’m not going to pass up the chance to see that.”

“You already did.” Virgil pointed out stiffly.

“Still cool.” Remus shot back causing Virgil to blink before huffing out a small, “fine.”

Remus beamed.

So well Janus tried to get Roman and Logan to talk to him, and Patton was busy having a crisis, Remus was busy repairing his friendship with Virgil.

Remus got used to Virgil summoning to find him small and hiding until Remus showed up only to cling to him. “Baby day spider bitty?” Remus asked as the little gummed at his fingers under a pile of clothing in his closet. Virgil hummed before crawling out and up onto Remus’ back.

Remus laughed and snapped his fingers, a plush of a jack the skeleton appeared in his hands and handed it to the little who squeaked in excitement. “Yeah You’re welcome.”

Virgil patted the back of Remus’ head and started chewing on Jack’s arm. Sunk out to his room to continue painting.

He had been working for about a half hour before his door opened and a very angry Janus stormed in causing the duo to freeze. “Honestly! I’m trying to communicate! Why is it so hard for them to-”

He stopped and blinked before Virgil covered his face with his hood again. “Is...is that Virgil?” he said, causing Virgil to whimper.

Remus was quick to shift him around so he could hug him. “Hey, It’s just Dee, he's not gonna judge you.”

“Of course.” Janus said off balance. Virgil peeked at him with eight solid black unblinking eyes. Each one tearing up. Janus snapped out of his shock. “It’s alright skitter.”

“Ssste?” Virgil muttered around the fingers that had found their way back into his mouth. Janus frowned and made a pacifier with a jack o lantern button on it. He handed it to Virgil one looked at it before squeaking in happiness and chewing on the handle. Remus snorted.

“No, You put this part in your mouth.” He said taking the paci, causing Virgil to reach for it, before popping the correct part in his mouth. Virgil hummed and rested his head on Remus’ shoulder while looking at Janus.

Remus swayed a little in place. “So you had something to tell me?”

Janus blinked. “That’s unimportant. How long has this been going on?”

“A few weeks?” Remus shrugged, “I haven’t kept track.”

“Do you know what’s causing it?” Janus asked, risking reaching out towards Virgil who grabbed one of his fingers and closing his eyes before sighing contently.

(That didn’t warm Janus’ heart at all by the way.)

“As far as I know he age regresses so...stress?” Remus shrugged again. “Not my job, I’m just keeping the bugger safe and calm while it happens.”

Janus stared. “You are keeping him safe and calm?”

“Yup! It’s my new side job.” Remus said.

Janus sputtered. “Since when do you do either of those things?”

“Since a few weeks ago, Come on Dee keep up!” Remus said rolling his eyes back into his head. Janus looked down at Virgil whose spider legs were hugging Remus’ chest keeping him solidly attached to him. He didn’t know how, but Remus had managed to get Virgil to trust him, and that trust was surprisingly not misplaced.

“Well, as long as it’s not harmful.” Janus trailed off as Virgil opened his eyes to look at him. Virgil let go of Janus’ finger to reach for his face. A tiny hand brushing against his scales.

Virgil almost poked Janus’ eye out before poking at his own face. “Yeah you both have really cool eyes.” Remus said.

“An eggs!” Virgil slapped Remus’ chest.

Remus laughed, “And we’ve got legs that’s right.” Then he dropped his voice really low. “You know Dee has extra arms too!”

Virgil gasped, making his paci fall out. “Rrrs!” He pointed at janus repeatedly. Janus let his other arms out and was shocked when Virgil pushed away from Remus and reached for him. Janus carefully took him, holding him not too tightly against his chest.

“Rrrs! Eggs! Ees!” Virgil said, waving his hands around.

“And it’s super cool.” Remus said grinning ear to ear watching Virgil get excited.

Virgil squeaked excited and bounced a bit in Janus’ grip.

Virgil rested his head on Janus’ shoulder and Janus totally didn’t smile warmly or sway a little. He did smack Remus for laughing.

---

“Where’s bitty? Where’s Vee?” Remus called out playfully as he walked through the hallways of the dark side. There was a giggingly from above him and he looked up to find Virgil on the ceiling.

Remus got him down with his tentacles causing Virgil to laugh loudly. Janus peeked his head out from the kitchen. “You done playing hide and seek?”

Virgil gasped, “Food?”

“Yes it’s food time.” Janus agreed before disappearing back into the kitchen.

Virgil tugged on Remus’ sash, “go! Food!”

Remus set Virgil on the ground and watched him scutter off into the kitchen. Over time he had become comfortable with his spider traits, almost proud of his extra abilities. The speed he could run at on his extra legs and being able to climb up things. Seeing in the dark.

Remus turned the corner to find Virgil on Janus’ back, One of Janus extra arms holding a plate for Virgil to eat off of while he made himself some.

Things were even getting better with big Virgil, who no longer hissed or tensed up when they entered the same room. He even leaned against Janus during movie night and got Logan and Roman to talk to him.

Of course the other ‘light sides’ didn’t know anything about what was going on with him and Virgil still threatened to maim them if they spilled. But Remus had no reason to tell them and possibly ruin what they had.

No sense in letting them take Virgil away a second time.

Besides, he was finally comfortable and happy with himself like this. Remus was never going to do anything that could ruin that.

[hailhydra920]

Branded For Ruin Pt.3

Chapter 3: Therapy Buddies

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary:  Bucky Barnes just wants to be a better person by living alone and eating ramen. Too bad court mandated therapy and the girl he met in the waiting room have other plans.

Warnings: None

Part 1 Part 2

           Keen blue eyes searched the hall, darting toward every doorway. Once satisfied, Bucky exited his apartment, his basket full of clothing held close to him, Alpine walking beside him. He snuck off to the laundry room, hoping Dot wouldn’t pop out and start up a conversation with him. Worst case scenario, he could toss Alpine onto her face act like it was an accident. Or maybe that was best case scenario. He shook his head and kept walking. His red and blue clothes were drowned by his black and gray clothing, helping him blend into the shadows easier. Finally making it to the laundry room, he let out a soft breath of relief. The only other person in there was Mrs. Kalright, and she was one of the few people Bucky didn’t mind talking with.

He greeted her and walked over to the washing machine. Alpine curled on top of the dryer that has Mrs. Kalright’s clothes in it, his soft body reveling in the warmth it brought. Bucky messed with the buttons on the washer for a while, wondering why Westside Apartments could buy the fanciest washers and dryers on the face of the earth, but couldn’t fix the railing on the stairs. Why did the darned washer need so many buttons anyway? He wanted clean clothes without trying to program it. He saw Mrs. Kalright struggling to carry all her items.

“Do you need any help?” Bucky asked softly.

“You’re such a dear. I would deeply appreciate it.” She said as Bucky took the laundry soap from her hands.

Bucky walked with her back to her apartment. He listened to her sweet old voice as she talked about how her husband hid her favorite mug again, and she hates it, but he thinks it’s funny. Bucky smiles as she talks about her relationship with her husband. Maybe if he hadn’t been drafted, he would have had a life full of love and happiness.

“That Dot woman get you to go out with her yet?” Mrs. Kalright asked with a smile.

Bucky sucked in a breath and shook his head. “No ma’am. I, uh, don’t think she’s my type.”

She laughed. “I don’t think so either.”

They eventually got to her apartment and Bucky helped put her stuff away.

“Thank you for your help, James. Therapy today?”

Bucky sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. “Unfortunately, but I guess it’s part of life.”

“Well, do take care, James.”

“Thank you. I will.” Bucky replied before he left.

~~~~~

           “We’re going down! Everyone in the cockpit disappeared! Does anyone know how to fly a plane?!” A flight attendant nearly screamed.

           People were screaming in terror as they watched loved ones and friends dust away in front of their eyes. You were breathing fast, what in the world was happening?! The plane was descending fast, and you quickly unbuckled yourself before going up to the frightened attendant.

           “I have experience.” You said before siting in the pilot’s seat.

           You struggled to get the plane back on course, a layer of sweat was starting to cover your skin. You pulled up with fearful force. You tried to connect to a nearby station but got only static. You cursed as another plane was headed toward you guys. Maneuvering the best you could, you prayed for the best. The opposite plane harshly crashed into the left wing of the plane, and a horrid groan was heard throughout the sky. A forest was coming closer and closer into view as the plane toppled toward the earth. You tried to steady it the best you could, but it looked like the end.

           “Brace yourselves!!!” You screamed into the earpiece as the plane crashed into the thick brush of the forest.

           You woke up in a cold sweat, your breaths uneven. You threw the covers off of you and set your feet on the cold floor. That was five years ago, when the world was thrown into chaos by Thanos. Only five people other than you survived on the plane that day. You took a deep breath as you remembered. Deciding a warm shower would help ease some of the tension in your body, you ambled toward the bathroom. Therapy was going to be horrible today.

~~~~~

           Bucky looked at the stairs like he was looking at Mt. Everest. Therapy was on the sixth floor, and here he was on the first. Taking a deep breath, he started his long journey up the carpeted stairs. He thought about using the railing but saw a few pieces of gum stuck to it and thought better of it. Weren’t people supposed to clean those things? Humming an old 40s tune, he picked up his pace a little. He was looking at some of the pictures that decorated the wall before he stepped wrong and fell. Cursing, he stood up.

           “I hate stairs. I hate life. And I especially hate that worker at Starbucks that gets my order wrong on purpose.” Bucky grumbled as he kept trekking his way up.

           About halfway there he noticed someone sitting on one of the steps. As he got closer, he recognized the person.

           “It’s you.” He spoke gruffly.

           Your head jerked up quickly, then you relaxed when you noticed who it was. “Yeah. I’m, uh, Y/n, by the way.”

           “Bucky.” He said stretching out his hand.

           You shook it with a weak smile.

           Bucky stood there awkwardly for a few moments before speaking. “So…therapy, huh?”

           He winced as he registered the words he had just said. Had it really been this long since he has had a normal conversation with a stranger?

           “Not that therapy is bad.” Bucky said quickly. “But, uh, what’s wrong with you? No, sorry. I haven’t had a decent conversation with people in a while. Um…”

           You smiled as he rambled, and you found it cute. He was trying so hard not to seem rude and though you usually didn’t talk to people, you found an odd comfort with him.

           “It’s okay.” You replied. “I have court mandated therapy, because of some, um, issues. What about you.”

           Bucky rubbed the back of his neck and breathed out. “Pretty much the same as you. Do you, uh, want to walk the rest of the way with me? You don’t have to of course, I just thought—”

           You laughed. “Sure.”

           He let out a sigh of relief. You stood up and walked beside Bucky up the stairs. You walked in silence, but it was a silence you could be calm with. It was a peace you hadn’t felt in a long time. And you may have found yourself a therapy buddy.

Perm Tags:  @sleep-i-ness​​​ @thefridgeismybestie

[feferipeixes]

Child I Will Hurt You

One of the weirdest things to Alcor about being a father was how automatically Toby trusted him.

Which really freaked him out because he didn’t feel he should be trusted to raise a child. After all, he was practically still a child himself.

(See the most updated version on AO3!)

===

The thing that scared Alcor the most about raising Toby was how fully the boy trusted him.

He’d experienced and marveled at that kind of trust before. When Mabel found him after that fateful day in 2012 and threw herself at him, sobbing with relief that he wasn’t gone after all, he felt it. When Stan took him and Mabel into his home a few years later, patted him on the back and said “It’s no problem, kid”, he felt it. When he warned Mabel that he shouldn’t be trusted with the triplets’ true names and Mabel shouted him right out of his self-flagellation, he felt it.

The first day he brought Toby home after finding him alone and shivering on the street, he felt something very different.

Panic.

Panic over who the child in front of him truly was underneath that thin layer of flesh. Panic over what would happen if he didn’t stop whatever Bill was planning. Panic as he remembered Weirdmageddon over and over again in complete, horrific detail.

“Listen kid,” he said, floating a few feet off the ground so he could better tower over the child, “no funny business, okay? You hear me in there, Bill?”

Toby only cocked his head, scraggly and unwashed golden locks tumbling away from his face to reveal his scarred eye. He still wore the half-scared half-curious look he’d had when he’d first caught the demon’s attention, but there was something else bubbling up. Something that tasted suspiciously like trust.

It really freaked Alcor out because he didn’t feel he should be trusted to raise a child. Trust was something you gave to adults who knew what they were doing, after all, and he was practically still a child himself.

Alcor grimaced, and lowered onto his knees so he could look the boy directly in the eyes. “I mean it. I’m watching you. I’ll know if anything bad happens.”

To his surprise, Toby smiled at that. “You can make the bad things stop?”

“Yes,” Alcor replied, his voice cracking like it hadn’t in centuries because he was already messing this up, he was sure of it. “N-no getting into trouble. Not on my watch.”

The boy’s face lit up, trust shining brilliant from both eyes, and before Alcor could tell what was happening, Toby had reached up and hugged him around the neck.

And the demon remembered

Bill’s little pipe cleaner hands iron-clad around his neck,

Squeezing the life out of him,

Blue fire rushing all over his body,

Over and into his soul,

Screaming until there was no more breath left in him,

And the little boy’s smile radiated such trust and hope that Alcor was left completely speechless.

“Thank you,” Toby squeaked, and Alcor felt it.

---

“Oh stars, I can’t do this, I can’t do this!” Alcor was in his human disguise, head in hands, elbows resting on the counter, rambling like the world was ending. “I’m way in over my head. Raising a child? Me? I mean I looked after Mabel’s triplets but this is so different…”

“...Sir?” The cashier’s hand hovered over Alcor’s head, unsure whether it was appropriate or comforting to actually pat him. “Are you alright?”

“No!” he fumed, lashing out and knocking over some of his groceries. “I have a six year old at home and he trusts me to look after him and keep him safe! How could this possibly have happened?”

“Uh…” The cashier peered behind the man to the customers in line, most of whom looked some degree of disgruntled or confused. She gave them a little wave to indicate that they should probably move to a different register, and then turned back to the man who appeared to be hyperventilating now. “Do you have a partner? Anyone who’s helping you?”

“Of course not, I’m alone, I’ve got no friends,” he moaned. “There’s no one who I trust enough to foist Toby off to. The poor boy has such bad karma -- he needs me to protect him from that or he’ll get eaten alive!”

“Well… it sounds like you’ve got the right instincts at least. You want to keep him safe.”

“That’s just it! I don’t!” Alcor picked his head up and the cashier saw streaks of a strange yellow liquid running down his face. “Everything I’m doing for him is just stuff I picked up from watching my sister raise her kids! I don’t have any kind of adulting instincts -- none at all! I transcended when I was fucking twelve and that’s where I’ll be stuck until the end of time. I’m just a pointless child! I’ve got too much power and no actual ability to help anyone!”

The cashier sighed and -- after the man nodded to say it was alright -- put her hand on his shoulder. “Listen, man, all of that stuff sounds normal.” (Except for the parts that made no sense to her at all but she opted to ignore them.) “No one knows how to raise a kid, and no one ever feels like they’ve grown up. You learn it as you go. Trust me, my kids ran me ragged and I had no idea what I was doing. But they turned out alright. So will yours.”

Alcor’s voice began to wobble, and he pressed gloved hands to his temples. “But he won’t! I’m developmentally frozen. I’m not capable of learning anything! Seriously, what kind of adult buys this much candy?”

She glanced at his cart, which indeed was half filled with Giddy Cowboys and Sneakers bars. “That is a lot,” she admitted. “I would not advise giving your kid that much candy.”

“What? No.” Alcor stopped sniffling and pulled a face like he’d just smelled poo. “That’s for me. I’m buying all these vegetables and milk and chicken for Toby. He’s a growing kid, he needs to eat healthy, get all those food groups in, you know. I’m not stupid. But I am childish for liking candy so much that I’d eat this much of it in a week! I mean, seriously! Oh stars, I’m hopeless!”

The cashier lifted an eyebrow and removed her hand. “You eat all of this… in a week?”

“I know, I know, I’m ridiculous!”

“That’s not what I meant,” the cashier cut in, before he could start gibbering again. “I’m just worried about your teeth. Your… teeth…” She trailed off as the man suddenly yawned, exposing two rows of jagged knives that could sink into her flesh in an instant. “Your, um, your- your-”

Alcor pulled a mirror out of seemingly nowhere and started picking at his teeth. “What, do I have something in them?”

The cashier’s eyes widened even more as the man’s gloves came off. “My… what pointy claws you have…”

“Thank- wait.” Alcor froze, one long blackened nail still pressed into his gum. “Wait a minute. Pointy. Sharp. Cutting and slicing and ripping open oh stars!”

“Um- um- um-” the cashier tried to say, but with every word she felt like she was shrinking until she’d be swallowed up by her clothes. “Slicing?”

Alcor shook his head furiously, and this time his fist was positively trembling when it came down onto the counter. “I haven’t child proofed the knife drawer in the kitchen!”

He flipped his hat off of his head and pulled out a wad of cash, which he then thrust into the cashier’s hands just as her lights went out. Before anyone else could react, he vanished into thin air, taking his groceries and the shopping cart with him.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before,” Alcor grumbled as he zeroed in on the offending drawer. He pulled it open and there they were -- obscene, dangerous implements that he was a wicked and cruel caretaker to have potentially exposed his child to. He couldn’t stop imagining what might’ve happened if Toby had tried to pull open the drawer and it had fallen on him -- couldn’t stop thinking about his little boy sticking his adorable hand in and receiving cuts and lacerations and awful, awful sobbing filling the house…

With a snap, child locks were in place. Alcor tested them out by trying to pull the drawer open -- and it took a few tries before even he was able to. Sighing with relief, he leaned against the counter and slid down to the floor. His feet bumped up against the shopping cart sitting in the middle of the kitchen, overflowing with Reece’s Mugs and Chortle Taffy and Quasarbursts.

He couldn’t do this. He was too irresponsible.

Alcor dug a hand into the cart and pulled out a candy bar. He sank his teeth into it, enjoyed the rush of sweetness that was almost as good as flesh and bone. Slowly he began to unclench his muscles -- even though his form was imaginary, the cramps shooting throughout his body still hurt. He slid down the counter a little further, almost letting his head touch the floor -- and then he noticed it.

The stairs.

Bolting upright, Alcor let the candy bar fall from his hand. The stairs. How hadn’t he thought about that before? What if Toby fell down and tumbled into the banister and lost his other eye? What if what if what if?

Not a minute later, the demon was wrestling with child safety gates, somehow struggling even with all of his considerable power just to get them to attach to the wall. At one point he tipped his jaw back and used his tongue to line the edges with spit, which then solidified like glue. The stairs had to be safe. He couldn’t risk Toby getting hurt.

And with that thought came even more thoughts that sent Alcor racing through the house. What if Toby slipped in the bathtub? What if Toby climbed on top of the fridge and couldn’t get down? What if Bill slammed his arm in a drawer again and again and again and again until it was full of forks and then he poured soda into his eyes and laughed like a maniac while Dipper drowned in the vast emptiness of the Mindscape???

Alcor stiffened. He set down the intricate contraption he’d been building to keep Toby safe from wild animals in the backyard. And he looked into the mirror.

What was he doing?

This was Bill’s soul he was fretting over. It was always him, on the inside, and he’d known it from the very first day he’d seen the boy. He knew what was lurking beneath the surface, what kind of monster slept in that innocent form waiting until one day he could reach out and traumatize his father once more. Reach out and steal his beating heart, and laugh, and live, and die, and laugh, and live, and die, in a way he’d never be able to again.

A chill passed through Alcor’s body. Something had to be wrong with him, because he knew what Toby was and he’d spent the entire week worrying about the boy. Why did he care so much?

Quietly, he crept down the hall, and peered into the bedroom on the right. There he was -- the beast himself -- sleeping soundly in a bed decorated with race cars and rocket ships. A few more steps, and Alcor could see how small he looked, how even in his sleep he seemed so broken. And the demonic instincts that had rushed through Alcor since the day he’d gone up in flames were quelled, because every fiber of his being told him he needed to protect this child.

He rested a hand on the boy’s forehead, and watched him dream about running around in a field of grass, playing catch with his new father.

---

Thus started a new routine. A demon, trying day-to-day to take care of a small child. Playing grown up even though he felt so utterly unprepared for what he was doing. But Alcor’s life didn’t stop when he became a parent.

Neither did any of his other regular obligations.

“Oh, you’re asking for it now!” Alcor roared, jumping to his feet. “I’m gonna run you through with my sword! Die die die die!”

The dungeon master -- Damien -- peered over his half-rimmed glasses at the demon and smirked. “Not gonna work, I’m afraid. The slime beast’s armor is too thick to be pierced by a sword such as your own.”

Alcor gaped with disbelief. “Whaaat? I call foul play! You let Anushka do it!”

“Anushka’s sword has a fire enchantment on it. Slime armor is weak to heat.”

“Also, I said die five times,” Anushka added with a shit-eating grin on her face, jabbing Alcor in the side with her elbow. “Die die die die die!”

Alcor snorted and dropped back into his chair. “Well, you got me there.” He looked at the other players, disappointment rolling over into amusement. “Can I change my move or am I locked in?”

Damien shrugged. “Go for it. I don’t think you’ll be able to beat it this turn though, and you’ve only got one hit point remaining.”

Nat leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Yo, I’ve got an idea. You should defend this turn and try to survive the slime’s attack, and then on my turn I can fire enchant your sword.”

“Huh. Maybe…” He patted his head to get the spittle out of his ear, and surveyed the map of the dungeon they were in. Then he sat bolt upright in his seat, a large exclamation mark appearing over his head. “Damien. How many sword actions do I get this turn?”

Damien rolled a die. “Two.”

“Yessss. Okay. First, I lunge at the slime again! But with the blunt end of my sword so it gets knocked back.”

Damien rolled another die. “Yep. That works. Are you gonna use your free movement to approach it again?”

Alcor shook his head. “Nope. I’m gonna throw my sword -”

“Your sword doesn’t have enough piercing damage to make a difference from that distance, I’m afraid.”

The room’s dim lighting glinted off of razor sharp teeth. “- at the cable holding up the chandelier.”

Anushka and Nat dropped their pencils, and looked straight up, momentarily forgetting that they were not actually in the dungeon they were traversing. “You what?”

Damien rolled a die again, and sucked in a sharp breath. “Alright. The chandelier falls onto the slime beast before it can react. It quickly catches on fire, leaving it too weak to attack. Congrats!”

Beaming, Alcor scribbled some numbers on his character sheet. “Heck yeah. No slime beast is strong enough to get one past the Dreambender.”

“You’re so creative, Al,” Nat said. “Seriously, wow. I never would’ve thought of that.”

He wove off the compliment. “Naw, I’m just basically a large child. Being silly and immature is what they’re good at.”

Looking up over his dungeon master partition, Damien furrowed his brow. “Why do you say you’re immature -”

There was a ringing in Alcor’s head -- a tug on a bond -- and he held up his hand. “Wait, hold that thought. Speaking of children, my kid’s calling me. I’m gonna have to leave early this week.” He stood up, and did a dramatic bow. “I’ll see ya all next week! Don’t lose my summoning circle!”

Toby -- lying flat on the floor of the Mystery Shack -- perked up at the sight of his adoptive father walking through the door. Tyrone looked about as human as they come -- a man in his mid-thirties with soft brown eyes, no wings, and feet that always touched the ground. He opened his arms and Toby came running to hug him.

Right away there was that trust again, that total trust that Alcor still couldn’t believe he deserved. How could someone like him -- someone who’d just spent two hours playing a tabletop role playing game and laughing about memes -- be trusted to take care of a child?

Gingerly, he took Toby into his arms and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “How are you doing?”

“I’m boooooooored!” Toby whined. “Can we play a game? I wanna play pretend!”

Chuckling, Alcor put Toby down and then sat beside him on the floor. “Sure thing, kid. You know, I’m pretty good at playing games like that. I was playing one with my friends earlier today.”

Toby’s jaw dropped. “Whoaaaaa! You have friends?”

A vein bulged in Alcor’s forehead. “Of course I- never mind. What’s the game, kid? What are we pretending?”

Toby jumped up and started pacing in a circle. “I wanna make up a story! It’s gonna be great! I’ll be the hero and you’ll be the bad guy -- an evil king who wants to kill all of the good people in the land! Is… is that okay?”

There was a mirror mounted on the wall behind where Toby had been sitting. Without the boy in his way, Alcor found his gaze fixed on it. He could see Toby gesturing as he walked and he could see the nostalgic decorations hanging on the wall of the Shack. But there was no Tyrone to speak of.

It took a moment for him to realize that Toby was talking to him. “What? Oh yeah. Of course, kid. I’ll be the bad guy.” He took a deep breath, discarding the voice in his head that furiously objected to him being the villain to Bill’s hero. “What’s my motivation?”

Toby cocked his head. “Moti- what?”

“What’s my backstory? Why am I evil?”

The boy continued to stare at him with a blank look on his face. “You’re evil cause you’re the bad guy and bad guys are evil!”

“That’s kinda boring- never mind.” Alcor grimaced and looked back at the mirror. “So you’re the hero, eh? How are you going to defeat me? What’s the hero good at?”

“Everything!!!!” Toby squealed, and his reflection grabbed onto something invisible. “The hero is the good guy so I should always win and I’ll have all of the magic and the biggest swords ever!”

Alcor shifted so that Toby was hanging onto his shoulders rather than around his middle. “Everything? But if the hero always wins, what’s the point?”

“The good guy always has to win!” the boy chirped, squeezing tight around Alcor’s neck. “Always!”

Oh my stars this is so boring, Alcor thought. How fricking uninventive is Bill’s soul? Children are supposed to be good at being silly and creative. I guess all Bill’s soul can think about is being powerful again.

A figure stepped into the room on the other side of the mirror. It was short -- looked to be about 12 years old -- and had clawed hands, bat wings sprouting from its hips, and a fancy suit that looked out of place for someone so young. Alcor’s jaw dropped as he watched the figure pick up Toby’s reflection, pat him on the back, and then stare directly out of the mirror at the demon.

“This is a game for children,” the figure said in a low growl.

“What?” Alcor yelped.

Toby giggled at the interruption. “I said that all the evil people should die because they’re mean! No one should ever do a bad thing!“

“This is what children are like. They see in black-and-white because they know nothing about how the world works.” Cold, black eyes bored into Alcor’s skull. “Have you forgotten what that’s like?”

“B-but I’m silly,” Alcor stammered, sweat starting to drip down his face. “I’m irresponsible. I love playing games and coming up with interesting stories. Those are childish things for someone as old as me to be doing.”

“Dad?” Toby asked. “What are you saying? I can’t hear you.”

The figure sneered, baring two sets of sharp teeth uncomfortably close to Toby’s head. “Whoever told you that must’ve really hated the idea of growing up.” Toby stirred, and it spent a moment cradling him so he’d calm down. Then those eyes -- now bright and full of gold -- flicked back at the demon. “Who said it? Was it you?”

Alcor gasped and fell over. Toby shrieked as he suddenly found himself tumbling to the ground, and the sound broke Alcor right out of his trance. Quick as a whistle, he pirouetted and caught the boy in his arms, pulling him close to his chest in a tight hug.

“Oh no, oh Toby, are you alright?” he fretted. “Did you get hurt?”

“I’m okay!” Toby squeaked, his face pressed against Alcor’s collarbone. Alcor loosened up on his hug, and took in Toby’s smile. “That was fun! You always catch me! That’s how I know you’re really a good guy.”

“I’m a good guy?” Alcor gulped, and glanced back at the mirror. This time he saw himself, in his present human disguise, holding Toby close, and looking so, so utterly responsible. It freaked him out.

“...Dad?” Toby asked, brow crumpled. “Daaaaad what are you thinking?”

“I think…” Alcor sighed, and gave his son a little kiss on the forehead. “I think it’s time you got some friends your own age.”

---

From that day on, things were a little different.

Alcor bought a house in the physical plane, because a memory of a shack in the Mindscape was no place to raise a child.

“Dad?”

He doctored forms and documents so it not only looked like a certain Tyrone Pines actually existed, but also that he and his adopted son Tobias Pines were legal residents of a sleepy town in the middle of Washington. This let Toby attend school with kids his own age.

“What is it, Toby?”

He went to the library on the weekly to check out parenting books, having long exhausted the meager supply of advice his omniscience had to offer -- as it turned out, parenting was very much a learn-as-you-go experience with few absolute truths to guide you.

“What’s a demon?”

Alcor froze, his hand halfway in the process of turning a page in his book. He started to turn his head around to look at the boy, and remembered just in time to turn his body around with it.

“Where did you hear that?” Alcor asked carefully.

Toby kept his head down, opting to study his father’s shoes instead of his face. “I, um...”

There it was again, that emotion bubbling up inside of Alcor, that instinctual distrust he couldn’t help but feel for the soul who had once taken everything from him. It was all he could do not to jump up and yell “Aha! Caught you red-handed, Bill! I knew you were in there all along!”

He got out of his chair and knelt in front of the child, using a finger to gently raise the boy’s head so they could see eye-to-eye. “You can tell me,” he said softly. “It’s okay.”

Alcor saw Toby reach into that pure, automatic trust he had for the monster who was raising him. The boy gulped, and squared his shoulders.

“Um... Devon’s dad said it to Devon.”

Alcor blinked. “Is that so? Devon, the kid in your class who asked you to play baseball with him?”

Toby nodded. “H-he was asking me again, and I know you said I wasn’t allowed to, but he started showing me anyway. He got his bat and swinged it and it looked really cool. Then his dad yelled at him and said ‘Devon, you little demon, cut that out right now!’“

Alcor could only stare, mouth agape, in response. Toby started to tremble as he continued speaking. “Then Devon’s dad took the baseball bat and Devon got really sad and I didn’t know what it means but it looked bad and I don’t want to be a little demon and I’m really really sorry I said I wanted to play baseball I don’t want to be a demon I don’t I don’t -”

He cut off with a squeak as his father took him into his arms and hugged him tight.

Alcor was a being with access to more power and magic than almost anything else in the universe. He could level mountains, he could turn cities inside out, he could institute universal basic income on the moon with a snap of his fingers.

But when he held Toby in his arms, when he saw the awestruck look on the boy’s face when he played the violin for him, when he listened to Toby babble excitedly about whatever he’d learned in school that day, Alcor felt powerful.

All of his magic crumbled beneath the obscene power granted to him by way of this child’s trust in him. He had the power to protect this child, to support and encourage him to grow up to be the best person he could be. He could also betray Toby’s trust so, so easily.

He could punish his son for no reason if he needed an emotional pick-me-up. He could disregard the boy’s concerns and laugh in his face. He could even raise his voice just a little too much, caught in a moment of frustration, and leave Toby wincing in distress -- an ephemeral moment in Alcor’s life but an upsetting and formative moment in Toby’s which could forever mar their relationship.

That would be childish. That would be immature of him.

Alcor had killed reams of cultists, had bestowed disturbing curses on people who’d only sort of deserved it, had terraformed the western coast of the United States in a fit of rage. He’d done a lot of horrible things with his magic, but.

This power, this power he had to shape Toby’s life.

This power horrified him.

“You’re not a demon,” Alcor said, (and it felt so unfair to be saying that to him of all people -- so cruel and dirty that he wanted to scream until his hair fell out. But he didn’t.)

“Don’t cry,” (even though no one had held him when he cried that day in 2012, because he’d simply slipped through their fingers, and he wanted to repay that favor. But he didn’t.)

“Daddy’s here,” he whispered, before kissing Toby’s tears away. “You’re not in trouble.”

The words came so naturally, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. As if he had the experience to understand what was upsetting his son, and the power to make it better. As if he had the maturity to push past his own conflicted feelings, because he was an adult, and this was a little child.

He set Toby down, and kneeled to meet his eyes. In that moment, he felt tall. Sort of grown up.

Toby sniffled. “You’d never yell at me? Even if I do something wrong?”

Alcor thought once again back to the day he’d seen Bill Cipher on the side of the road. Thought about the furious, vengeful part of him that enjoyed the boy’s suffering because that’s what he deserved. Remarked on how the universe had served him up his greatest enemy in the most vulnerable form possible, giving him the opportunity to take Toby’s trust and do unspeakable things to him.

“Sure thing, kiddo,” he said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “I promise.”

Remembered how he’d instead chosen love.

---

It was a dark and stormy night that found Alcor wandering the streets of a mostly-abandoned city.

He’d been summoned -- it always started with a summons -- and he’d been angry. It didn’t even matter what had made him angry, because there were so many things these days that people absolutely would not stop doing no matter how much he screamed and threatened and threw flaming balls of plasma into their twisted places of worship. They never learned. And neither did he.

Alcor couldn’t stand how many people had to die because of him. How many people were killed in his name. How many lives he’d taken with his own hands because he couldn’t seem to stop, like an immature brat who throws tantrums when things don’t go his way. He wondered if he could ever change, or if he was just stuck this way.

It was deep in these thoughts that the demon heard a little noise. A squeak, barely audible over the rain. He dismissed it at first, because his grand thoughts were more important than the world around him, and right after a bad summons was the perfect time for self-hatred. It felt good -- it was one of the only things that still did. He considered burning the entire city to the ground. Maybe that’d feel even better.

Something told him that it wouldn’t.

He heard the squeak again, his eyes darting over to a heap of trash bags between two buildings, and that’s when he saw him. A little boy with golden hair, no older than six. He was dressed in rags. He looked like he hadn’t seen a scrap of food in days. The left side of his face had been eaten away by flame, leaving it patchy and discolored.

Alcor had seen right through Bill’s disguise, of course. There wasn’t a meatsuit pitiable enough to blot out the sins his soul had committed. Perhaps that was why he had been abandoned on the side of the street to begin with -- karma was finally catching up with him. Alcor wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t. Something strange was going on inside of him. Some sort of instinct buried within him -- not one tipped with blood and claws, but one that creaked and groaned under centuries of exertion.

It was this feeling that prompted him to gather up the child in his arms. He felt how fast the boy’s heart was beating; saw in his past how much he’d been hurt without an adult to protect him. He knew that feeling well.

“It’s okay,” he murmured as Toby began to fuss. “Things will be better now. I’ll protect you. I might only be a child myself, but I promise I’ll protect you.”

One year later, one year of introspection, growth, and unbroken promises later, he had to admit he’d been wrong.

(AO3 link)

[babylooneytoonz]

protector

Geralt of Rivia x fem!reader

Summary: Set in episode three of the Witcher where Geralt goes to Temeria to take down the striga, and reader is his companion, and his friend, although Geralt never admits it. Requested by @dashingcavill [ hope you like it, my love.🤍]

When Geralt and the reader are each other's silent protectors, what else do they need? Although they don't admit having each other is the best thing that has happened to them.

warnings: Geralt is a soft, big bear with a heart that is full of love, only he doesn't like admitting it. **I tried to add fluff, I really did. • [My Masterlist]

*Please reblog if you like it, do not repost, copy or claim my work as yours.

"No."

"No? You do realize I'm still going to follow you, right?" You blinked, running a hand through your messy hair, only to let your fingers get entangled into them, making you groan silently. As if the broody Witcher wasn't enough for you to be able to handle, add the rustling winds into the picture and your hair were already resembling a hen's nest.

"I can handle it," Geralt grumbled under his breath, his baritone deep and low.

You shook your head, more at the obvious stubbornness of the white haired man next to you, making you pause for a moment. It was only when you looked up, you realized that Geralt had kept walking, and was now, almost ten steps ahead of you. You muttered a resolute curse under your breath, as you picked up pace and darted after your companion of fifty two days, to be exact.

"You're thankless, Witcher. I saved your ass a dozen times too," you huffed, finally catching up to him, as you grabbed the edge of his armour to try and slow him down but he didn't, "What makes you think you can take that thing down alone?"

Geralt craned his neck slightly to give you a look but he did not utter a word. Instead, you were greeted by his monotonous grunt and you gave him a coy smile,"I know what you're thinking, Witcher. Can I say it?"

He raised an eyebrow, almost and regarded you for a second through his golden orbs before he turned his face back towards the direction he was walking towards, muttering under his breath, "Will you not say it if I say no?"

You shook your head, almost like a twelve year old trapped in a body of a twenty five year old, "Not really. Now can I say it?"

Geralt groaned in fake annoyance, kicking a pebble that he spotted on the ground, a hint of a smirk breaking out against his lips, that he knew you couldn't see as you weren't really paying attention.

"Well you must be thinking," you suddenly changed your voice into a lower note, almost making yourself a fake Geralt baritone, "I should have let her be eaten by the wyvern. Why the hell did I save her life? Now she is stuck to me like gum."

Geralt's lips twitched, and he couldn't help but look down and shake his head, "Hm."

"You weren't."

"Do you ever stop talking?"

You did that thing with your lips, pushing your upper lip upwards in retaliation to his words, and Geralt just took a deep breath and he turned away from you, a faint smile still draped over his lips, the smile only dropping when the castle was finally in sight.

"Stay out here."

"But I told you—"

Geralt raised his palm in the air, in front of you before you could fight him on this. He had already made up his mind, he wasn't going to put you at risk. He knew you were skilled, and he knew your father had always wanted a son, a son who could fight a battle, yield a sword, and spill blood. But he had instead gotten you. He taught you all those things though, skilling you in his to hold a sword, and just how to use a sword to silence the enemy, and you were pretty good at it.

However whatever it was, lurking inside the castle was something Geralt never wanted you to face. Maybe it was fear, a fear of losing you to whatever the hell it was, and an ounce of doubt on himself, the what ifs, what if he couldn't keep you from harm's way and what if something happened to you.

"I'm coming with you," you announced, only to receive an animalistic growl from the Witcher. "It's daylight, and that thing doesn't usually attack during the day. I should be safe. Besides, you need my help, because although you do excel in bodily strength, you're in an obvious lack of brains."

"I should have left you with that wyvern," Geralt spat, a hint of an amusement calling out of his tone as he began walking into the castle and you followed.

The structure was exactly like you had expected it to be, dirty and dinghy, cobwebs dangling everywhere, and it was difficult to breath, but you didn't complain as you followed the Witcher around, from one room to another, investigating. The hallways were dark, dinghy and you could smell the death, even without the Witcher's sense of hearing, making you wonder for a split second, what Geralt was actually feeling. He was walking next to you, his eyes fixed on the surroundings while you were looking at the dried blood trails that decorated the floor of the hallway. In one corner, you spotted a decaying head of a human being, and something churned inside your gut, forcing you to look away.

"You can still leave," his loud voice ensnared towards you, and you involuntarily grabbed the fabric of your sleeves, curling them into your fingers, shaking your head.

"This really doesn't scare me, Wolf. It will take a lot more than that to actually scare me," you lied through your lips. Who were you kidding, he could feel the racing of your heart, and the signs that you were actually afraid, of the unknown, unlike him but he also knew that you were the most stubborn woman he had come across, and although he never admitted; this was one of the things he had grown to like about you, that, and the fact that your mouth was the exact opposite of his, something that never stopped moving. Your talkativeness was refreshing to him, and he could keep listening to your useless banter for hours and not get bored with it. Not that he would ever openly admit that to you.

You looked at the massive portrait that hung from the wall, of Adda and Foltest, when they were children and you couldn't help but let thousands of thoughts fly through your mind. A lot didn't make sense at the back of your mind, but everything to you pointed towards Foltest being the father of the striga, a concern that you had already vouched to Geralt, and he did seem to agree.

The sound of Geralt kicking open a door pulled you out of your trance and you quickly entered Adda's bedroom after him, eyeing the state of unrest the room was in. The chandelier lay fallen on the floor, shards of glass broken and decorating the floor. The bed was unkempt, the sheets slept in, and musty.

You noticed Geralt stiffen when he saw the bed. You bit your lip, moving to the cabinet, running your hand along the dust coated surface of it when Geralt took a deep breath, and you understood what he was doing. You immediately turned, taking long steps towards him and you grabbed the leather of his sleeve, pulling him to turn towards you, your eyes searching for answers in his face, "You found out. You smelled it. What did you find?"

Geralt pursed his lips together, as he looked down at you, "Ostrit. I smell him in the sheets." You were startled by the revelation, your eyes almost popping out as you looked at the bed and blinked, the bits and pieces coming together in your mind. Of course.

You turned towards Geralt, your lips tugging upwards, "Not a pretty picture in your mind I suppose?"

"I never thought I'd ever have to picture his ass in the back of my mind," he looked at you, his voice gravelly, his baritone thick but you could sense the jest in his voice.

Anxiety was not a pretty picture, especially not when you couldn't keep your mind off Geralt. He had forcibly left you at the tavern, and although you had a massive pitcher of ale to drown in, you couldn't stop worrying about the big man, your palm laying flat against the table, your fingers tapping against the wood in nervousness and anxiousness.

Geralt's warning words still rang through your mind when he had asked you to stay here, and not step out of the tavern until he came back. In fact, what had made you angry at him as he left, you fuming from the inside that he had actually had the audacity to slip in some coins to the owner of the tavern, just to have eyes on you, so you didn't sneak out.

What you hadn't told the Witcher and neither did you plan on telling him was the fact that you had watched him die in your nightmare, just a few night back, and it was still haunting you, deep inside, no matter how hard you tried to shove the thoughts away from your brain, drowning yourself in ale. A lingering question was eating you up, what if your nightmare was actually a premonition? What if this was destiny's way of telling you something? What if something was going to happen to the White Wolf tonight? The striga, after all, did kill the other Witcher. How were you so sure she wouldn't overpower Geralt?

That's it, you slammed your palm against the table, almost knocking off the half empty pitcher. You grabbed it, and brought it up to your lips, chugging the contents of it all, like a man, until you slammed it back against the table. You stood up, pinching your nose as you confidently walked up to the owner of the tavern.

"How much coin did the Witcher pay you for keeping me trapped in here? What if I pay you double?"

The bald headed man looked at you, his gaze flicking to the pouch of your coins as you tossed it up and down in the air, the rattle of the coins echoing through his ears, making him lick his lips.

"Give me a ten, and run out of the back, not the front," he hissed, in a low voice.

"Good man," you smiled, as you loosened the noose of the pouch, pulling out a fistful of coins, that were in fact, more than ten, but you still laid them down on the counter, and the man hungrily placed both his hands on it, dragging them away from you. You winked at him, running a hand through your hair, as you turned around and started running towards the back, thinking how jealousy could be your downfall. A fist on the jaw from the Witcher, and all that coin would be used for fixing up his damn face.

A trail of blood leaked down his temple, the back of his head lay against the flooring as the striga climbed on top of him, her hollow, toothy mouth flared open as bits of drool fell on his face. The cursed being let out a shrill screech, her clawed hands grabbing the Witcher's armour as she lifted him up and slammed him hard against the floor again, and Geralt's sword fell from his hand, sliding inches away.

"I swear if you die on me, Witcher, I will never forgive you," you cursed under your breath, your sleeved palm wiping the base of your neck as sweat dripped down your chin, drop by drop. You were panting, gasping from air, your legs almost beginning to give away but you dared not stop, until you finally reached the castle. You began running up the front, when a loud, eerie screech resonated from somewhere inside and you were forced to draw out your sword.

"I swear I will never get bored of saving your ass, Geralt of Rivia," you spat as you ran inside, jumping over a half eaten arm of an unlucky man right at the entrance.

Geralt's eyes locked on yours, and he gave you a look that warned you of anything but happiness. He pursed his lips, his fists clenching as he began taking a step towards you. That's when you saw the thing, it was dangling from the wall, just above him.

"Geralt, look behind you!" You screamed loudly, throwing out your pointy finger towards the air but before he could, the striga pounced on him, making him land on the floor, on top of you, his face pressed between the valley of your breasts. If you weren't going to get killed, any time sooner, Geralt would have appreciated the dark humour that escaped your lips, the striga looking right into your eyes.

"What better way to die than a man's face pressed to my breasts— Aaaahhhh fuck.."

The striga's knee pressed down hard against your shoulder and you swore you felt a crack of a bone or two as her monstrous hands came to rest on your throat. Her fingers slowly began squeezing the life out of you, your eyeballs almost bobbing out as you coughed, trying to gasp for air. Geralt tries to push himself as much as he could, his arm outstretched so he could grab your sword. "G-Geralt.. Ger.." Your vision was turning black, your mind already swimming in pain and confusion, owing to the pain in your shoulder, and the cut off of oxygen supply from your body.

His fingers finally reached the hilt of your sword, clasping against it. Fixing himself up on one of his elbows, as much as the creature on top of him allowed him to move, he struck the side of the striga's face with the hilt, the force being enough to knock her off for a bit disorienting her.

Geralt jumped up to his feet as he bent and slid his arms underneath your thigh, lifting you up into his arms as he charged towards the stone coffin like structure that lay in the center of the hall. Upon reaching it, he threw you inside like a sack of grain, without showing a tiny ounce of compassion or gentleness. You couldn't blame him though as the Striga was already charging in your direction now having recovered from Geralt's blow.

Geralt jumped into the structure just after you, and before the striga could get to the two of you, Geralt had managed to successfully move the slab over the top, covering the two of you up. He also secured it using a sign he made, an added protection so the Striga couldn't try and open it, even though she wanted to do it.

A breath escaped your lips. You could hear the cursed being screeching outside, as she tried to claw through the stone slab, trying to get it to open, but it didn't work. The pain in your shoulder was unbearable and the inside of the structure was cramped, and with the Witcher's heavy, bulky frame on top of you, it was hard to breathe. Yet, you were content.

Geralt didn't say anything for a few seconds, but his forehead rested against your other shoulder. You could feel the rise and the fall of his chest, and you could sense that his elbow was resting next to your head, as he struggled to keep the weight of his body as light as though afraid to crush you. You noted this soft gesture and you wanted to smile, but you couldn't, not when the throbbing of your shoulder was making tears prick into your eyes.

A few seconds turned to minutes, and Geralt's frown widened as he noticed how silent you were. You silence now being deafening to him as the screech now died down, making him assume that the Striga had given up on trying to pry open the structure and was now waiting for them to open up. Finally, the adrenaline turned into anger and Geralt's nostrils flared. He slammed his fisted palm into the stone next to your head but you didn't even wince,"Now you decide to stay quiet. I told you not to come."

You let out a warm gush of air from your lips, hitting Geralt right against his neck. He sighed, fluttering his lashes a little. He knew there was no point in arguing with you for you were a stubborn one.

"Funny, I lost the coin," he added, in a dry tone, trying his level best to lighten up. If the two of you were to stay stuck inside for a few more hours now then why not make a use of it? Although Geralt had never thought he would see a day when he would be the one trying to coax words out of your lips.

His frown widened and he sniffed lightly, and the more he concentrated, it didn't take him long to realize the metallic copper smell, that was almost too strong for his liking— the smell of blood. He tried to move adjust himself better so he could look down at you, and as he inclined himself, more towards your left shoulder, the smell worsened.

"Fuck, [Y/N]?" His otherwise low pitched, serious voice suddenly clouded with a sliver of worry, his hand came to rest against your forehead as two fingers swiped over your sweat drenched face. His fingers slid down to the side of your neck, and he felt your pulse and a sudden alarm fled him up. You had a pulse, but he could barely feel it, and the sound of your heartbeat was much lower than usual."Fuck, fuck, fucking — where did she get you?"

"I'm... Fine .." You tried, but the sound of your teeth now chattering was an enough signal for him to know you were blatantly lying to him. Gently, he placed his palm over your injured shoulder only to jerk his hand back as you let out a scream of agony. Now he could smell and feel the wetness on his hand where he had touched you. That's when he realized that the impact of the striga's knee had dislodged your bone, that had pierced through your skin as was now protruding, and you seemed to have soaked through your leather shirt.

He growled, and placed his hands on the slab above you, and slowly began moving it. You reached out, placing your hand on his wrist.

"D-don't, Geralt, w-what are you doing?" You whispered.

"Killing that thing and getting you out of here."

"No, close that damn," you coughed, "slab, Geralt. All these efforts.. to.. to lift that fucking curse.. and you're.. you're going to kill her .. for what?"

Although he pulled it shut again, his frown was deep and lasting.

"I'm not going to let you die, even though you are stupid enough to walk yourself into a death trap."

You laughed, coughing and wincing at the same time as the movement caused the pain to flare again, making you still once more, "You're daft for a Witcher. I'm not.. dying. I'm conserving my energy.. a broken shoulder doesn't kill people."

His eyebrows almost flew upwards. You amazed him at times. Out of all the times you had been sassy with him, this was probably going to be the most memorable one for him.

When he didn't reply, you slowly let your uninjured hand travel through the cramped space up to his face, and you placed your fingers lightly against his jaw, tracing the outline of it. He blinking, glancing down at your fingers for a bit before looking back at you. His own fingers slowly, reluctantly traveled to the side of your face, as he began cupping your jaw, "Geralt, I'm not dying so soon. You think.. you're gonna get rid of me.. you're wrong."

He released a sound straight from his lungs; something between a growl and a snort, perhaps a mix of both as he let his head rest against you. The two of you stayed like that for a few seconds, and you were about to flutter your heavy eyelids shut when you heard his low voice, "Don't you fucking die on me."

"I'm cold, Geralt.." you whispered suddenly, and he propped himself up again on his elbow, "but you.. you're so warm. Like the sun."

He smiled, sadly, his thumb toying with the side of your cheek.

Geralt knew it wouldn't be long now before the rooster crowed three times and the sun would rise up, and the curse would be broken. He only begged, to anything or anyone that was listening to him, to give you the strength to hold on for a little longer. It was then he realized that you had dozed off.

You woke up with a shudder, and your body still hurt, even with every breath you took. The sun was now shining over your face and you realized that the slab above you was open, and Geralt wasn't anywhere beside you.

Slowly, you wiggled yourself slightly, but the pain in your shoulder made you bite down on your lip. You shook your head, and looked around, and your eyes fell on the bloody shirt fabric that was hanging loosely from your shoulder where your bone had ripped you. You pried the fabric off and fisted it into a ball stuffing it into your mouth so you didn't scream. You sat up, tears streaming down your eyes as you screamed into the cloth.

Geralt heard your screaming. He was kneeling down by the girl, now the curse having been lifted as he studied her face but at the sound of your scream, he jumped up to his legs and ran towards the structure, finding you seated, your shoulder red like cherry and a bone visibly popped out.

"Come on," he commanded, but he didn't let you stand up. Instead, he dived his beefy arm underneath your thigh and lifted you up effortlessly as he carried you out of the castle.

"What about her, Geralt?" You whispered.

"She is fine, someone will come for her."

You woke up in a castle, but this one was much different from the other one. Your eyes fell on your shoulder, and you realized that your shoulder had been dressed, the bone probably pushed back into its original place. Slowly, you craned your neck to see an older woman, definitely a healer for you could see all sorts of herbs stacked on the walls in jars.

When you asked her about what had happened, she told you how Geralt of Rivia had brought you to her. She told you how you had been in and out of a drugged sleep for almost four days now.

When you asked him where he was, she informed you that he was at the tavern, and you were free to leave although she did recommend you taking it easy and not embarking on tiresome journeys as your wound was still raw, and healing.

Pulling a shawl made of raw wool tighter around your shoulder, to keep it and yourself warm, you reached the tavern, immediately spotting the tall man from the back of his long white hair. He had his palm drawn towards the tavern owner who was trembling and placing coins one by one back into his palm.

"What's going on here?"

You gave him a lopsided grin, as he turned at the sound of your voice, and his lips twitched slightly. He eyed you carefully, his eyes lingering on your wounded shoulder for longer before he turned away his attention back on the owner, "Just getting what is mine."

"Can we leave this wretched place? We have had too much of a drama, and I really need to forget. Besides, the healer gave me a clear pass to travel, before you ask."

He smiled, bringing the pitcher of ale that he was drinking, up to his lips, and you saw his Adams apple move as he swallowed a mouthful. You groaned, grabbing the pitcher from his hand, and prying it away, throwing it up to your lips and chugging it all down, not leaving a single drop of ale for him.

"You witch, I should have never taken your cursed coin." The owner suddenly began, his beefy finger pointing to you.

You were met with a cracking noise and you couldn't help but give a smile of content when you saw Geralt's fist collide with the owner's jaw, making him topple backwards. "Want your coin?" Geralt asked you, his eyebrow raised in amusement and you smirked, shaking your head, "Nah, let it be. He will need all the coin to get that jaw treated. Though, I expected a better punch from you."

Though Geralt's lips were pressed in a firm line, the edges of it were drawn upwards as the two of you stepped out of the tavern. His heart sighed with relief and it was refreshing fir him to hear your voice again. He didn't want you to stop speaking, although he didn't say it out loud.

After a few minutes of a slow walk, you reached the stables and Geralt brought Roach out.

"Geralt? Will you let me ride her?"

He always said no. If there was anything Geralt didn't let you do, it was riding Roach. And so far, you were okay with it.

"Come here." He suddenly said, tapping on the mare's side, and your jaw dropped.

"what?"

"Come before I change my mind."

If you could have run towards him, you would have. If he could have lifted you up in his arms, he would have. All these would haves, but those really didn't really happen. What actually happened when you reached Roach's side, ready to lift yourself up on her, Geralt suddenly turned you towards him, and pressed you against the mare's side, his lips pressed to yours.

The kiss lasted only ten seconds, but you found yourself licking your lips when he broke it, tasting Geralt on you. He was smirking as he didn't say a word.

"What was that for?" You asked, licking your lips.

"For trying to get killed," he grumbled under his breath.

"You could have said, for trying to save my life. You're welcome, Witcher."

He only gave you an amused smirk, helping you get on the mare and took its reins as he started walking with it. You looked down at him, and blinked, giving him a smile and he raised his brow, his own lips turned upwards, "What?"

"Will you let me sleep in your tent now?" You bit your lip.

"Hm, only if you promise not to snore."

Henry Cavill All Characters Taglist:

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[cacoetheswriting]

fluff alphabet - spencer reid

A = Attractive (what do they find attractive about the other?)

It would be safe to say you’re strangerly attracted to his genius. Many people find it annoying, how he spits facts completely unwarranted, but not you. His vast knowledge of quite literally anything is what sparked your interest in the young doctor in the first place.

Spencer on the other hand is captivated by your smile. The kindness behind it; how truly genuine it always is. He especially likes when he is the reason that smile spreads across your face, from cheek to cheek, illuminating your perfect features.

B = Baby (do they want a family? why/why not?)

Definitely yes, and you know Spencer would make a great dad. He has a way with kids and it comes to him so naturally. Frankly you can’t wait for the day you get to tell him you’re expecting.

C = Cuddle (how do they cuddle?)

One arm wrapped securely around you, pulling you in as close to him as possible. Your head resting on his shoulder landing just below his chin. He smells your hair taking in the scent of your shampoo before placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. 

D = Dates (what are dates with them like?)

He likes to take you out to the movies where you share popcorn and a large soda. A lot of coffee dates where he enlightens you on books he read or reread and you fill him in on the latest pop culture gossip. Nothing too adventurous but never boring.

E = Everything (“you are my ____” (e.g my life, my world…))

“You’re my home.” Spencer whispered, his hands cupping your face. You blinked a couple of times registering what he just said but before you got a chance to respond he continued. “When I’m with you, I feel so comfortable and at peace. I can truly be myself around you, no judgement or scrutiny.” He took a soft breath. “When I’m with you I feel at home and that doesn't make much sense to me but you’ve told me before that not everything has to make sense. Especially when it comes to love.”

F = Feelings (when did they know they were falling in love?)

One evening at a bar with your friends you repeated a fact to the group that Spencer had told you earlier in the week. It caught him off guard because no-one really listens to the rambles that come out of his mouth. Yet here you were, the biggest smile on your face as you reiterated: “chewing gum boosts concentration.”. You glanced at the young doctor from across the table. His eyes lit up as they locked with yours. That’s when he knew. 

G = Gentle (are they gentle? If so, how?)

Spencer is one of the gentlest souls you have ever met. He has an incredibly pure and kind heart. He always puts you first and would never dare to do anything that could hurt you. Your happiness is his priority and even though he’s not the most physical person he always does everything in his power to make you see how loved you are. 

H = Hand/Hold (how do they like to hold? how do they like to hold hands?)

For many reasons he isn't the biggest fan of public displays of affection. But when he does hold your hand, he traces down your fingers gently with his own before intertwining them. He’d then lift your hand to his lips and place a soft kiss on your knuckle.

I = Impression (first impression/s)

At first Spencer found you quite hard to read. He’s usually not good at social cues or interactions therefore it took him longer than the rest of the team to really get to know you. 

You on the other hand were instantly mesmerised by the young doctor. The wealth of knowledge he possessed was captivating and in a way inspiring.

J = Joker (are they into pulling pranks?)

Definitely; Spencer loves a good practical joke. He also has quite a good sense of humour. Not everyone always understands his jokes but they never fail to make you giggle.

K = Kisses (how do they kiss?)

When Spencer kisses you he does so with all his might. Unlike his usual gentle demeanour, when he kisses you it’s always with immense passion. He cups your face with his hands and pulls you in as close as humanly possible. 

L = Love (who says I love you first?)

You do - however completely by accident. “Did you know nutmeg can be fatally poisonous?” Spencer asked as the barista handed you a brown paper bag with a pumpkin dessert bar inside. “A little dash of nutmeg in a pumpkin pie or on your eggnog gives it extra flavour Spencer.” You noted flashing him a smile. “Too much nutmeg, however, can be toxic. Two to three teaspoons of raw nutmeg can induce hallucinations, convulsions, pain, nausea, and paranoia that can last for several days.” He stated. You couldn't help but laugh. “I love you Spencer but I’m not going to die because of a sweet indulgence.” It took you a second to register what you just said. Your free hand travelled to your mouth covering it with a soft gasp. “Shit Spencer, I didn-” “You love me?” He interrupted. All you could do was nod in response. 

M = Memory (their favourite moment together)

After a particularly hard case Spencer drives you home, like he has done so many times before. He walks you to the door of your apartment and waits until you are safely inside. He places a soft kiss on your forehead and says goodnight - which is when you ask him to come inside, stay the night. Rather than going to sleep however you stay up baking what turned out to be the worst brownies either of you have ever tasted. 

N = Nickel (do they spoil? do they buy the person they love everything?)

Spencer is not an overly material person. He prefers to shower you with words of affirmation and subtle compliments. Although when he does give you a gift it is always extremely thoughtful and definitely something that means a lot to the two of you.

O = Orange (what colour reminds them of their other half?)

If he had to associate a colour with you it would be yellow. Yellow - the colour of optimism. The colour of sunshine and enthusiasm. It stimulates the left side of the brain, helping with clear thinking and quick decision making. 

P = Pet names (what pet names do they use?)

He shortened your name. It was unintentional when it first happened but you liked the way it sounded so it stuck. You on the other hand, if you’re not using his first name, usually call him ‘honey’ or ‘sugar’ which he used to hate. If you’re feeling giddy you’ll call him by the original nickname you came up before you were dating: ‘suspence’.

Q = Questions (what are the questions they’re always asking?)

“Are you okay?” - you are his priority therefore he likes to make sure nothing is ever wrong. “Do you need anything?” “How are you feeling?” 

R = Rainy Day (what do they like to do on a rainy day?)

When the weather outside is far from ideal and the two of you are not out working a case, Spencer likes to curl up on the couch with you. He’ll put on an old back and white movie as you provide the drinks.  

S = Sad (how do they cheer themselves/each other up)

If he’s feeling sad you find yourself reaching for a random book on his shelf and reading the first few chapters aloud. His head rests in your lap, eyes closed, as he listens to the sweet sound of your voice. 

If you’re feeling down, Spencer will draw you a bath. He’ll light a couple of candles and dot them around the bathroom. He’ll play relaxing music through the speaker of his phone as the two of you enjoy the warm water together. 

T = Talking (what do they love to talk about?)

The short answer, everything. You never run out of topics to discuss and the conversation flow is always pleasantly smooth. 

U = Unencumbered (what helps them relax?)

Quite simply you. No-one knows Spencer the way you do and even though the two of you haven't been together for very long you know exactly what to say or do to calm him down.

V = Vaunt (what do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

Spencer is modest which is one of the things you admire about him. The one thing he truly shows off is his knowledge of pretty much everything - even if he does it unintentionally. 

W = Wedding (when, how, where do they propose?)

“Almost fifty percent of all marriages in the United States end in divorce or separation.” Spencer said turning off the documentary you just finished watching. “Researchers estimate that forty-one percent of all first marriages end in divorce.” He continued. “Well, lets hope when we get married we’ll be in the lucky fifty-nine percent that lasts.” You teased, a small smile circling your lips.

X = Xylophone (what’s their song?)

Let’s Groove by Earth, Wind & Fire. The song was queued by Penelope at one of Rossi’s famous get togethers - before you and Spencer were dating. She swayed and twirled, soon joined by Morgan, as the rest of the group watched and laughed. You glanced at the young doctor and before he got a chance to protest you dragged him into the middle of the room to dance. 

Y = You’re the ___ to my ___ (e.g the cookies to my milk, the macaroni to my cheese)

“You’re the Holmes to my Watson.” He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Why am I not Watson?” “Because you’re not that kind of doctor.” You nudged Spencer playfully. He couldn't help but laugh under his breath. “That is a terrible analogy.” “Terrible or not, it’s true.” 

Z = Zebra (if they wanted a pet, what pet would they get?)

He wouldn't want a pet for now. The job is too demanding, he’s away for long periods of time and there'd be no-one to take care of it. Perhaps in the future, when you’re married and have kids. Perhaps. 

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