#tutu fucker too

[faaake-radio]

pov: those yt ppl tiktok forbidden romance novels be like:

Omg!! an 8'11 mexican guitarist man falls for the 4'1 chinese martial artist (correct me if I'm wrong) girl???? What will her father say????! 🙀🙀🙀🙁🙁🙁😣😣😟😟😟😟🤨🙂‍↕️😴😴🥺🥺🥺🙀🙀🫶🫶🫶

[mediumgayitalian]

part one

———

Finding parking is, as expected, hard, largely in part because Michael wants to get them all killed.

“— yeah, that’s right, shitwad! Back off! We were here —”

“Will you please shut the fuck up,” Lee hisses, jamming the switch for Michael’s window. Unfortunately, Michael is sticking his fucking head out of it, so it won’t close.

“This fucking guy! This fucking guy thinks he can swoop up to our spot —”

“Motherfucker we’re in Wilmington, do you want to get fucking shot —”

“He can wait his godsdamn turn like everybody else! Hey, fucker —”

He succeeds, finally, in yanking his brother back in by the scruff of his neck and speeding away from the shitwad in question.

“I can’t believe you let him walk all over us!”

“If I end up with a bullet hole through my windshield, I am kicking your ass, Michael. I won’t need to worry about some trigger happy mortal taking you out. I’ll kill you.”

“Drama queen. Now we’re never gonna find a damn spot.”

They do, in fact, find a damn spot. Within forty-three seconds of Michael saying that, actually, Will points out not just a parking spot but a pull-through, which Lee takes, smirking. Michael aims a kick for his knee.

“Go help Will unbuckle, you bitter bitch. I gotta grab something.”

Ignoring both Michael’s grumbling and Will’s insistence that he can unbuckle himself, thank you very much, Lee jogs over to the trunk. He grabs his and Michael’s bows, just in case, and carefully grabs the bundle of roses he bought from the stand across from his apartment. The stems are a little crushed, but the flowers all seem fine, full and bright, sunny yellow. Even the paper is relatively uncrinkled, folding delicately around the thorny leaves.

Michael nods when he sees them. “Nice.”

“Thanks.” Lee tosses him his bow, slinging his own over his back. It flickers with his quiver under the Mist, settling eventually to look like a small backpack. “Got ‘em this morning.”

“Can I hold them?” Will asks.

“Sure, kiddo.”

He lays them gently in his arms, the same way Cass has taught him to bundle herbs and plants when they gather for poultices. Every step is suddenly much more deliberate, avoiding potholes and cracks in the pavement so he doesn’t trip and crush them under his body. When he nearly walks in front of a car, not paying attention, Michael plants a hand on his head, guiding him around like a claw machine.

“Okay,” Lee says, holding open the door. “Let’s find Diana.”

The lobby is crowded. There are people everywhere — families, grandparents, and of course dozens of dancers, shining hair pieces glinting in the low lights, tutus and rhinestones peeking out of studio sweatsuits. Faces heavy with stage makeup bleed into each other. The building is abuzz with sound, chatter and laughter and shouting and twenty different songs playing at once. Lee can hardly believe they’re all fitting in the same building, and almost convinces himself it’s actually enchanted, smaller on the outside. He glances down when Will backs into him, flowers clutched tighter to his chest, and rests a firm hand on his shoulder. He hooks his finger around Michael’s hoodie, too, and for once he doesn’t complain.

“You see her?” he shouts over the noise. Or, well, Lee’s pretty sure that’s what he said. He shakes his head, anyway, and Michael scowls, standing uselessly on his tiptoes. Even if that didn’t put him just barely over most people’s shoulders, the throng of people is too thick to see much. People elbow and push each other around to meet up with family members, and groups of dancers do their best to practice their routines in what limited space is available. Lee has felt less claustrophobic in Times Square at Christmas.

In a stroke of brilliance, in his very humble opinion, he lets go of Will’s shoulder, puts both hands under his arms, and hauls him over his head, settling him on his shoulders.

“Keep an eye out,” he shouts.

Will grins, tugging on Lee’s hair with his free hand in confirmation.

One hand clamped over Will’s knees, the other still hooked on Michael’s hoodie, Lee starts to wade through the crowd. He can start to see, as he gets farther from the door, the entrance to the stage, the ticket stands, the coat check. Several banners hang temporarily from the ceiling and stick to doorways, welcoming them all to the Twenty-Sixth Annual Believe Dance Comp!, and a table laden with trophies sits proudly by the stage doors.

Sitting under one of the banners, Lee notices a group of girls of varying ages, all wearing the green and purple Stage Lights Dance Academy Cass sometimes wears. He guides them closer, scanning each stage makeup-ed face to try and find his sister, but stops short before he gets too close.

Two girls, sitting at the head of the group, mime twisting their hair, exaggeratedly anxious looks on their faces. The rest of the girls roar with laughter.

Lee feels something heavy settle in his stomach.

“You think anyone will come for her?” a younger girl asks, hushed so that Lee can barely hear her over the crowd.

One of the older girls snorts. “Are you kidding? The only way her mom will come is if there’s an open bar!”

Lee is reminded of the one and only time he’d fought a group of empousai. There’d been a trio of them a Central Park, on a field trip he’d gone on with his ninth grade class, surrounding one of the oak dryads. They’d crooned at her, tugging on her leafy hair and trailing clawed fingers down her handmade dress, calling out backhanded compliments. But Lee’s skin felt like it was crawling, he remembers, and the dryad had been tense, green tears building in her eyes. Every bleat of their laughter had grated his ears, and he’d snapped, eventually, ripping off his bow and picking them off one by one. The third one had seen him, chasing him away from his group, but he’d been so mad that he wasn’t even scared. The dryad hadn’t done anything. They got nothing from poking at her. They’d just done it to be cruel, because it was fun for them.

“I don’t even know why she has the gall to show up. She missed the final practice.”

“Miss Breanna likes her, that’s why,” one of the girls scoffs. “Of course she can skiff off practice and still compete. She thinks she’s so much better than us.”

Michael shifts forward. Lee throws out an arm to stop him, shooting him a warning look.

“You think anyone’ll take your side?” he murmurs.

“They’re talking about —!”

“I know, Michael.”

“They can’t talk about her like that!”

“I know, Michael.” He forces his jaw to unclench. “I know.”

“Yeah, well, favourite or not,” another dancer says wickedly, “her seats will be empty again. And she’ll walk out empty-handed and alone, like she always does.”

Most of the adults milling about the lobby hold flowers, like they do. Except unlike them, their bouquets are large, unlike them the stems are not crushed, unlike them they are wrapped in ribbons, in embroidered banners. One is, even, shaped as a ballet slipper, and Lee notices the oldest girl in the group, the one who made the joke about Cass’s mother, eyeing it, smirking.

He pictures Cass holding it next to all the other girls from her studio. With their big, normal families, their wide smiles, their fancy cameras, their beautiful, expensive bouquets. Pictures the smirks that will be sent her way, the whispers. They can’t — gods, what was he thinking?

“What time is it?” he asks.

Michael glances at his watch. “Quarter to.”

“Hm.”

In her frantic IM, yesterday, Diana had ordered them to be here by noon. From what little he knows about dance competitions, Cass’s performance will be sometime after that, nestled among the many. When exactly, he doesn’t know.

If they leave now, wagering, they could miss it. And that would be the worst thing of them all. But…

“Will,” he says, suddenly getting an idea. “C’mere.”

He reaches up and sets Will back on the ground, clutching his hand as he weaves through the crowd, beelining for the far corner. He stops at a sign with a little stick person on it, gently taking the flowers from Will’s hold and passing them back to Michael.

“Listen to me carefully.” He crouches to Will’s level, meeting his eyes. “Diana is — somewhere, in there, getting Cass ready. Michael and I can’t go in there. We need you to go in and act really confused.”

“That will be very easy, because I am confused,” Will protests. “Why do I have to go in there? I don’t even really know why we’re here!”

“Just — go in,” Lee insists. “Trust me. If I give you more instructions, it’ll ruin it.”

Huffing, Will goes.

“Brilliant,” Michael mutters. “Lose the kid and Diana. Great plan, Lee.”

“Come on, does no one trust me?”

“No one knows what you’re doing, dude! You hang around Carter for five minutes and suddenly you think you’re Mr. Plan Guy —”

Lee flushes. “That is not what this is about!”

“I am not missing this! I swear Lee, if we’re late —”

“We’re not gonna be late!”

“Why is it that every boy on Earth is actually stupid,” hisses a new voice. The change room door busts open, damn near cracking under the heel of a heavy boot, and Diana comes striding out behind it, Will perched on her hip. Her short dark hair sticks out in every which way, shoulders tense as a line, mouth twisted in a scowl. Immediately, Lee and Michael snap their mouths shut.

“Hey,” Will complains, pouting.

She adjusts her hold on him, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Not you, sweetpea. Only Thing One and Thing Two, over here.” She glares at them. “Why did I find him wandering around in the change room? I told you to wait for me in the lobby! I swear you two want to — ruin this!”

“Hey,” Lee says, flinching back. “You know we don’t, Diana. That’s not fair.”

She scrubs a hand down her face, sighing. “I know. I know. I’m sorry. It’s just —” She presses another kiss to Will’s cheek and sets him down, leaning on the doorframe. “It’s been a rough morning. She keeps trying to call her mom, and — well.”

Lee hates that those girls were right. He hates it. He hates that they’ve been right before, that Cass has walked off the stage, face blank, alone. Hearing their giggling, probably. Twisting her hair around her fingers as she tries to hold it together.

His jaw tightens.

Not this fucking time.

“What time is Cass on?” he asks

“…Her solo at one-thirty,” Diana says. “But —”

“Great.” Lee grabs each brother’s shoulder, pulling them back. “We won’t be late, Diana, I promise.”

“Wait! Lee — dude, what are you —”

“We’ll meet you inside! Save us seats!”

“Lee! Get back here!”

“Seats!” Lee calls, glancing back. He makes a vague gesture in return to her incredulous, spread-wide hands, trying to convey the Situation. “We won’t be late! Promise!”

“I’ll kill you if you are!” she relents. “Be fucking back on time!”

———

In hindsight, it would have been smarter to take the car.

For whatever reason, both Lee and Michael assumed there would be a flower stand just outside the theatre. Neither of them had seen one on the way in, but it made sense. If Lee had a flower business, he’d probably put it next to a theatre. Where else would you put it?

Regardless, there isn’t anything close across the street, or even on the whole block. Will sits on his shoulders again, because it’s easier than trying to guide him, and every so often he glances at the watch Beckendorf made him, calling out the time.

“Will,” Lee begs, veering around a street corner, “you are not helping.”

“I am so!” He checks his watch again. “Twenty-seven minutes ‘til Cass starts. That’s why we’re here, right? To watch Cass dance?”

“So long as we make it in time,” Michael stresses. “Shit, Lee, maybe we should just head back. The flowers we have are fine —”

“Cass deserves more than fine.”

Michael snaps his mouth shut. “I know that.”

Lee slumps. “I — know you know. Sorry.”

Their steps fall in synch, footsteps making level prints in the light dusting of snow. On occasion a passing car drowns them out, but for the most part the only sound is their breathing, and Will picking at his nails. The shifting of their jackets.

“You’ll never undo it, Lee.” The road cross button makes a heavy click noise under Michael’s fist. The countdown for the walking man is loud, four, three, two, one. Three of the little lights are broken, making it look like its chest is cracked open. “There’s some shit you just can’t fix.”

“I’m not trying to — fix her,” he argues weakly. “I’m just…”

He can’t push away the horrible ache in his chest. The rapidly expanding feeling, the sinking chasm of expecting and hoping and being disappointed. Of looking out into the crowd to find a familiar face and not finding one. Of hearing giggles as you walk past and clenching your teeth, knowing. It balloons, pushing out on his ribcage, forcing its way up his throat.

Michael stops, arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed. Lee stares at a spot at the air above his shoulder, swallowing roughly, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood.

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are, Lee. You think competing with those assholes is gonna — go back? Gonna magically bring her fucking — hell, bring Dad?”

Lee looks away. “Of course not.”

“We’re going to be there. That’s what matters, isn’t it? That’s what’s really important.”

“Oh, to hell with high horses, Michael. I’m fucking tired of — of pretending it’s okay!” He starts forward again, ignoring the twinge of pain in his skull when Will grips his hair, yelping at the sudden surge forward. Michael jogs to keep up. “It’s — fight these monsters, train these kids, lead your cabin. Ignore the fact that your dad couldn’t be assed to visit a few times a year, he’s an Olympian, after all, you understand. Well, I’m tired of it! I’m tired of —” he trips over a crack in the sidewalk, barely catching himself — “I’m tired of being so damn understanding!”

For a moment Michael says nothing. Lee’s breathing is heavy, shakey, and it takes effort to still the tremble in his hands.

“The girl,” Michael says eventually. “The prissy one, who sat closer to the door.”

“…What about her?”

“I just.” He chews at his bottom lip. “I’m not saying I disagree with you, dude, but you have issues, dude, and shit you need to work out. For real. Besides just —” he gestures broadly at the mostly empty street — “ranting into the air.” Slowly, a smirk spreads across his face. “It would be really, really funny to see her face if Cass walks out with a bouquet three times the size of hers, wouldn’t it.”

Lee matches his grin. “It would be.”

“Betcha she’d seethe.”

“Probably turn purple.”

They turn to each other, finally back in synch.

“Nineteen minutes,” Will pipes up.

Lee startles. He checks his own watch. “Oh, shit. Let’s go.”

———

part three

[httpscomexe]

Runaway 2

Summary: He’s told to take care of you, and he’s entirely willing.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Logan Howlett x Hybrid!Reader

Warnings: Innocent reader, controlling Logan, manipulation of emotions, Wade Wilson and Logan Howlett, mentions of sex. (Individual warnings per chapter)

Tags: @shybluebirdninja @atomicheartbroken

Word Count: 4090 (Find all chapters here) CH3

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

“Wade would love her.” You’re hiding behind Logan. Your tail tucked between your legs, ears pinned down to your head. Honestly, you had every fucking right to be scared. Standing in front of Logan was a man, almost 8 foot tall, and he was built out of steel, his voice thick with a Russian accent. But he was wearing a tutu.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Logan asks, pulling a cigar out of the pocket on his flannel.

“We made the mistake of inviting Wade for a sleepover. This is the consequence.”

“He didn’t even let me take off my uniform.” Eloise walks by Colossus, a pink tutu around her waist, but she was still wearing her yellow suit. “Who’s that?” She nods her head towards you. You looked ridiculous. Hiding behind Logan, hands on his back, forehead leaning on him.

“This is the parasite I’ve been talking about.” He says, turning around, trying to ease you in front.

“She’s a hybrid?” Colossus asks, stepping forward, and you freak out, squeezing Logan from behind.

“Hey come on Bambi…” Logan groans, using the name he’s given you. “You’re okay… Piotr isn’t going to hurt you.” You loosen your grip on him slightly, and look at the large man from behind Logan.

“Hi little one. My name is Piotr.” He holds out his large hand, and you hesitantly move beside Logan, one of your hands still gripping his shirt, while your other hand meets Piotrs cold metal hand, and he shakes your hand gently, but you don’t tell him your name. You’ve settled on Bambi being your new one.

“I’m Eloise.” The girl tells you, but doesn’t shake your hand, instead only giving you a little wave.

“What the fuck?” You quickly scrambled back behind Logan. “And here I thought Negosonic teenage warhead was your first middle and last!” Another man comes into view, wearing a read suit with black eye patches.

“This is Wade, he won’t bite.” Piotr assures you.

“Not unless she asks.” His eyes land on you, and he removes his mask. “Hey there.” He comes a little close, but you feel Logan’s hand instinctively come in front of you, keeping you behind him. “My name is Wade. But with a face like that, you can me whatever you want. Wade, dipshit, fucker, motherfucker, Hal, Jesus, Ryan.” He stops talking, suddenly looking to his left before back at you. “Actually don’t call me Hal, that’s my biggest regret.” You ears twitches, and you tilt your head in confusion before looking up at Logan.

“You need to be tested.” He says.

“For what.”

“Everything.” Logan’s hand is still on you, keeping you behind him, but you’re more relaxed now.

“Well, Bambi is certainly welcome to join our tutu party.”

“Absolutely not.” You’re slightly disappointed. This Wade guy seemed funny.

“Jealous? You can come if you wear one.” He offers and you giggle at the thought of him wearing a pink tutu.

“We’re not coming.”

“Honey, do you let this honey badger make every decision for you?” You nod. “That was supposed to be a joke.” He adds, then turns back towards Logan. “It’ll be fun, we can actually get to know her instead of you hoarding her like she’s your belonging.”

“She is…” he pauses for a moment and looks down at you, “not my belonging. She’s a living being just like everyone here.”

“Then why can’t she hang out?” Eloise wonders, popping a piece of gum into her mouth.

“She said she’s tired. We were going to bed.” He tells them, wrapping his arm around you. “Right?” He looks down at you, and you nod.

“Well does she want a tutu?” Wade asks.

“Why don’t you ask her?” Logan questions.

“Oh sorry. I just thought you were her ultimate decision maker.” Wade reaches for an extra tutu sitting on the table. “Do you want one?” You nod, and he holds it out for you. Then he notices your ears, but doesn’t say anything. “Sleep well, Logan gets hot at night.” You giggle at his comments, and watch as the three walk away to continue their little party, you and Logan making your way back up to his room. The one he was letting you stay in.

He wasn’t lying of course. You were absolutely the most tired being on the planet. And it was because you couldn’t sleep. Logan tried everything to help you, but even when you did sleep, you squirmed and twisted like you were having nightmares. But you were simply uncomfortable. Eventually you both found you had better nights when you slept on the bed with him instead of alone on the couch. But only with his body against yours. So after some careful thinking, he realised it was because you couldn’t sleep in open places. You needed to feel cramped, like you were constantly being held. It made you feel safer when something was against you. Which led to Logan buying you a kennel.

Most nights it sat in the corner of his room. Thick white comforters and a big red heart pillow inside for the utmost comfort. It even had a nice white blanket over top to make it more comfortable, and little fairy lights on the inside in case it got dark.

“You sleeping in the cage tonight?”

“Are you leaving somewhere?” You were already crawling onto his bed. Dressed in you night shorts and a white tank top, a little hole cut in the shorts for your tail to peak out.

“No, I’m staying here tonight, leaving early though.” Your ears pin down a little as you hug one of his pillows, his scent clouding your senses as you lie there.

“When will you be back?”

“I won’t be back until late.” He tells you, sitting next to you on his bed. His fingers gently comb through your hair. “But you’ll be okay, just stay in here and study a little.” Study.

Years of being locked up of course had a toll on your education. You didn’t have a natural instinct for certain things like reproduction or affection. It took forever to get used to eating. So Xavier has you learning that sort of stuff instead of how to use your morph effectively.

“Okay…” You groan, rolling onto your back, his pillow under your chin.

“What’s wrong Bambi?” You groan and shove your face into the pillow.

“Can you braid my hair?”

“Of course, but you’ll have to get up.”

“I don’t wanna move…” You speak into the pillow, and sigh. He sighs in return.

“Alright, I’ll get some ties.” He tells you, and you feel the bed shift as his weight leaves the mattress, the bathroom door opening and closing before you feel his weight on the bed again, and his knees straddle your waist. “How many braids?”

“Just two.” You tell him, and you feel your hairbrush move through your hair, Logan gently pulling out any tangles as he strokes your hair with his fingers, careful not to touch your ears.

He’s learnt the hard way that your ears are sensitive. Just like a bird's wings are their most intimate part, your ears and tails were your most intimate part. It wasn’t that it turned you on, it was because they were sensitive. The slightest pull would hurt. But the smallest pet drove something into you. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. But whenever he scratched you behind your ear, or ruffled your tail to help you dry it after a shower, it felt like euphoria.

You were both quiet as he began tying your hair. Looping one strand over another until they were in long braids. “What are you gonna study while I’m gone?” He asks, trying to make conversation as he pulls the first braid together and ties it.

“I guess I’ll look at the health book.” He hums a nod, and his finger gently moves over the back of your neck as he grabs for one of the bundles of your hair, and your tags wags a little under him. One of your ears twitching slightly.

“Just remember to text me if you need anything. Or Jean.”

“Jean is mean to me.” He sighs. He didn’t believe you whenever you said she was mean. Constantly taunting you or bullying you for your ears and tail.

“Well then there’s Ororo when she isn’t busy. Last resort is Xavier.” You sigh, and his fingers continue looping through your hair. He’s careful not to catch your ear between any of them.

“Why is he last?”

“Because he’s always busy, he doesn’t have time for questions.” He takes another tie and wraps it around the end of your braid to keep it together. Then you feel his index finger behind your ear, gently scratching the same place he knows you love, but he’s careful not to touch your actual ear. A sort of purring noise comes from your throat. And he chuckles. “I think you got more of the animal-like part than the human part Bambi.” He tells you, leaning down to whisper it in your ear and you turn your head to face him. He was still straddling your waist, and his fists were now on each side of your head as he leaned down, both of you staring into eachothers eyes. “Still cute though.”

“I’m not cute…!” You groan. And he finds it adorable.

“You absolutely are.” He tells you, sitting back up but still straddling your waist, his fingers moving back to scratch behind your ear, and he feels your tail moving under him.

“Am not!” You shout, and try to sit up, but his hands move to your waist just in time, his legs now straddling yours to keep you still.

“You so are…” He whispers, keeping you in place as you look over your shoulder at him, your large ear hitting him in the face. “Rude.”

“You’re rude!” Your tail was wagging faster now, working against you to show your excitement to his teasing.

“Such a feisty cute little girl.”

“Stop!” You begin to shout just before his fingers begin moving over your waist and stomach, your hands trying to catch his as he tickles you. “Lo-” You giggle, tail wagging quickly as you try to pry his hands off of you.

“Admit it…” He tells you, fingers still quickly moving over your skin.

“No!”

“Say it!” He chuckles, pushing you back down to your stomach with his body, his hands never stop moving.

“Never!” You giggle, struggling under him as it becomes hard to breathe from laughing.

“Say you’re my feisty cute little girl…” He whispers in your ear, still tickling you.

Of course, you’re too innocent to understand what he’s asking you to say.

“Fine!” You shout, and he pauses so you can catch your breath. “I’m feisty and cute.”

“Nuh uh…”

“What?!”

“MY feisty cute little girl.”

“Hmph…” You slump a little, and the feeling of his fingers ghosting over your skin is enough to make you say it. “I’m your feisty cute little girl.” You say finally, and he’s satisfied, slowly getting up off you to sit next to you on the bed.

“Good girl.” Your tail begins wagging again, the smallest praise affecting you as you crawl next to him just in time for him to turn off his bedside lamp. “Are you ready to sleep, Bambi?” You nod, leaning your weight against his side. “Okay.” He groans as he moves, his hips bucking up slightly which causes the tilt of your head.

“Love you Lo.” You tell him as the both of you begin to settle under the blankets.

“Love you too Bambi, get some sleep tonight.” You lie under the covers, scrunched up against him as his arms hold you as close as you can get against him. One of his hands rests on your tail, gently stroking the fur as he holds you, making your own hips buck forward against his and he groans quietly before both of his hands wrap around you.

She’s too fucking young for you Logan. He tells himself.

“And don’t talk to Wade.”

You wake up early, the feeling of Logan's warmth missing from your side as you sit up, and he’s not there. The sound of students moving through the halls makes your ears perk up, and you hop out of bed, deciding to throw on a tiny black skirt and one of Logan's hoodies, the smell of him would be enough to get you through the day.

You reach into his fridge, taking out one of the bottles of starbucks coffee that he bought for you, then you tie on your sneakers before leaving the room, heading straight towards the library.

Once you get to the library, you find the same health book you’ve been reading through, hiding your drink from the librarian when your eyes find the ‘no food or drinks’ sign in the front of the large room, then you find your spot on a couch in your favourite corner.

Except someone was sitting on one of the couches. Normally, that wouldn’t bother you. But it was Wade. Dressed in his red suit with one leg over the other, a book with a unicorn wearing a tutu in his hands and he flips through the pages.

“Hi Wade.” You say shyly, and he looks up from his book.

“Oh, Bambi. Didn’t see you there. Lose your owner?” He asks, setting the book in his lap before straightening his posture.

“Very funny.” You chuckle, sitting on the other couch. “He’s busy.”

“What’re you reading?”

“Some weird health book. Xavier said I need to.”

“Like a book about sex or a book about how to wipe properly?”

“Sex?”

“Oh that’s why Logan likes you…” He says quietly, leaning forward to place his book on the table in front of the two of you.

“What do you mean?”

“I could give you a hands-on lesson. If you’d like.” You shake your head.

“Logan said I’m not supposed to talk to you.”

“But here we are. What’s he gonna do about it?” You think about it, trying to find an answer, but you aren’t exactly sure what Logan would do to either you or Wade. “How about we do something fun?” He asks, reaching up and pulling off his mask. “We could watch a movie, I can show you around town or maybe we could go shopping for new clothes for you?” He throws a bunch of ideas at you, hoping something would hit. “I have a pet dog?” He mentions, and the sound of your tail wagging slowly is enough for him to smile. “Wanna meet her?”

“Where is she?”

“She’s at my house, my maid is taking care of her.” He tells you, standing up and reaching his hand out to help you up as well.

“Okay… Let me just let Logan know-” He stops your hand from texting Logan.

“Or, hear me out. You do something without Logan watching you like you’re his meal.” You think about it. You know Logan won’t be happy that you aren’t listening to him. But you figure there was no harm in hanging out with Wade. He seemed fun.

“Okay, yea. I won’t text him.”

“Good, I’ll call my cab guy, let’s go wait up front.” He begins to pull you by the hand, dragging you to the front doors. “Hey Dopinder, come pick me up at the freak house.”

He opens the door to his little home, it smelt surprisingly good considering the mess of empty bottles, forgotten plates, and dirty laundry. On the couch was a woman, her hair looked like a cloud on her head and she was folding clean laundry, humming a song to herself as Wade stumbled in, you following behind him. Then he slams the door, fist pumping the air as your ears go down from the loud sounds.

“UH!” He pumps his fist excitedly, knee joining in the air. “Knew I could get you to do my laundry, I’m home by the way.” He walks past you, and your ears come back up.

“I could fucking tell.” She looks towards Wade, but not exactly.

“Hey, language, we have company.”

“Last time we had company, he went through every fucking measure to make sure you were dead. There was blood everywhere, and I swear to fucking-”

“This company is a girl, and she’s young, like 20.”

“18. “ You correct him, and he looks surprised.

“Well hi sweetie.” Her tone changes completely and she stands up, using furniture around her to stay standing. “I’m Althea.” She holds her hand out, and you take a few steps forward so you can take her hand and shake it.

“I’m Bambi.”

“Like the deer?”

“Yes?” You tilt your head, unsure of how she knows you’re a hybrid if she’s blind.”

“There’s no way that Wade made a normal friend.” She grumbles. “Do you have really long claws?”

“No.”

“Do you have blue skin?”

“No?”

“Mind control or 7 foot tall?” You giggle a little.

“No… I do not.”

“Well that’s a relief, but I’m still confused. How’d you meet?”

“Through Logan.” You and Wade speak at the same time, and you watch as Wade stuffs an entire cupcake into his mouth.

“Oh see now that makes sense.” She tells you, moving back to do the laundry on the couch.

“Wade said there’s a dog?” You step forward, eyes on Wade.

“Oh yea…” He hums as he takes another cake, and he calls the dog's name. “Dogpool? Mary? Little puppins? Where are you girl?” Suddenly, a little dog comes through an open door, and you move to stand next to Wade as he picks the dog up, showing her to you.

“Aww, she’s cute!” You tell him, putting your hands out so he would hand her to you.

“You can call her Mary. She’s got a licking problem.”

“I like the suit.” You tell him, looking at the dog's red suit that matched Wades almost perfectly.

“Thanks, I made it myself.” He pauses for a moment. “Or at least one of me did, but we don’t talk about him.” You exchange looks, Althea scoffing behind you. “How about a movie? I think I know one you’d like. The title is the same as your name.”

The movie named ‘The Lion King’ plays in the background of you and Wade baking cookies. He at some point changed when the movie Bambi had ended, so he was now dressed in sleeping pants, covered in little unicorn designs, his shirt earlier tossed off after you had accidentally dumped flour on it.

“Okay, does it taste any good?” Wade comes back into the kitchen, wiping his hands as he walks back up to you, picking up a cookie.

“I don’t know, you try it first.”

“No, you try it first.” He tells you, chuckling.

“No you.”

“How about we both try it at the same time?” He suggests, walking closer to you as he breaks the cookie in half, handing you the bigger side.

“Fine.” You’re about to take a bite out of your cookie, then his half is near your lips as he attempts to feed you, so you do the same with your half.

You both take a bite out of the cookie halves, and Wade's eyes roll as he chews his bite.

“Fuck that is amazing.” He says, a mouthful of chocolate in his mouth, then your phone buzzes in your pocket. “Who’s that?” He asks, and you pull your phone out, Logan's name on the screen, and you mentally prepare yourself before opening it.

You sigh a little as you read the last message. You should’ve known better than to disobey him, so now you’d have to deal with the arguing, and you’d have to hope he would forgive you.

“Everything okay?” You look back up from your phone to see Wade stuffing his third cookie down his throat.

“Hey!” You laugh. “Save one for Althea and one for Logan, Wade.” You tell him, grabbing three cookies and walking over to Al. “Here Al.” You hand her a cookie, and she blindly takes it.

“Thank you, hun.”

“Of course.”

“Logan isn’t gonna eat it, he hates sweets.” Wade tells you, trying to get you to hand him Logan's cookie, but you refuse.

“I’ll make him eat it.” You tell him, and open your phone when it buzzes again. “Logan is here, I’ll see you Wade! Bye, Al.” You tell them, blowing a kiss to Mary before walking out.

Logan is staring ahead, not bothering to look at you as you walk to the truck, crawling into the high passenger seat.

“Hey Lo!” You say excitedly, acting as if you weren’t in trouble.

“Hey.” He pulls out of park, and begins to drive.

It’s silent. And you don’t like it. He notices the way your ears fall down after a few minutes of driving, and he sighs heavily.

“I asked you not to talk to Wade. But you’re hanging out with him?” He asks, more of a clarification as he pulls up to a red light.

“I was bored…” You tell him, looking down in your lap at the cookie you brought for him, wrapped in a paper towel.

“What’s that?” He looks down at your lap and you unwrap it a little.

“A cookie… Wade taught me the recipe.” You say quietly, and Logan feels his heart break at your quietness.

“Is it any good?” He asks, pressing on the gas as the light turns green and the mansion comes into view. You nod, but he doesn’t see it and he sighs, assuming you’ve decided to ignore him.

“Want some?” You ask, and he shakes his head, making you look back down.

“Not in the car Bambi. I’ll try it in my room.” He tells you, and the ghost of a smile appears on your face as he parks where he normally does and turns off the truck.

“Will you teach me to drive?” You ask as pulls his keys out.

“Maybe. But let's focus on more important things first.” He tells you, stepping out of the truck and he watches as you get out on the other side, locking the truck before walking beside you, his hand quickly grabbing yours as he leads the way to his room.

Once you’re both inside, he takes off his flannel, draping it over his chair before he sits on the bed, sighing as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Logan?” You say his name quietly, the wrapped up cookie still in your hand as Logan sits on the bed, and you sit beside him.

“Yes?” He looks at you as you sit on your knees, not wanting to sit on your tail.

“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t answer you, only shaking his head in annoyance and sighing. After a few minutes of him not responding, you speak again. “Do you… Wanna try still?” You hold up the cookie, still warmly wrapped up in the paper towel. Your tail was tucked between your legs, barely hidden by your skirt, and your ears were down on your head.

He chuckles. “Sure.” A bright smile appears on your lips, and you open the paper towel, breaking off a small piece of the cookie and bringing it to his lips, tilting your head when he takes it with his teeth, awaiting an answer. Awaiting approval.

“Tastes amazing.” He tells you, chewing the piece of cookie you fed him.

“Wade's recipe…” You sing a little, breaking off another piece, only singing his name in hopes to encourage Logan to like Wade.

“Good thing he taught it to you then, right? Won’t have to see him again.” He tells you, his eyes staring into yours and you sigh.

“He’s fun…”

“He’s annoying.”

“Why do you hate him?”

“I don’t hate him. He’s just a bad influence for you.” You sigh again, looking away from him in annoyance. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t sigh and give me the attitude.” There’s a growl in his voice as he speaks to you, and his comes up to cup your face.

“I’m sorry Logan…” You apologise. Again.

“It’s okay, Bambi.” He tells you, turning on the bed so his entire body was facing you. “Just don’t do it again.” His fingers brush some loose hair from your braids behind your ears.

“I won’t.”

“Good.” He tells you. “Now let's get these braids out, and I’ll brush your hair before bed…”

[movieexpert1978]

Therapy?

So this idea came up a while ago as I was talking with @illiana-mystery​   We definitely agreed that Chandler Manning needs therapy. We also thought that maybe some of Alfred’s other cop characters, like Gamache, would be good counsellors for him. So here is that idea as a little crack fic. There’s some swearing and movie/tv show barrier breaking too. Just a little funny thing. 

Chandler Manning, Armand Gamache, Ricardo Morales, and Randall Pepperidge are featured here. Enjoy! 

The three men gathered in the living room and waited for the fourth. He was told a different time to get there so the others could brace themselves. When he finally came in, he huffed in annoyance.

“What the fuck is this shit?!” Chandler Manning huffed as he stared at the other three.

“Manning, we just want to talk,” The leader said kindly. He was in a burgundy sweater with a matching tie just poking above the zipper.

“You think I’m dirty too Gamache?” Manning shot back as he sat down.

“We just want to help,” another said. This one was in all blue. He was wearing a navy blue suit with a light blue button-up shirt and a matching blue tie.

“Really Morales? I figured you’d understand given that you’re a homicide detective,” Manning argued.

“Even homicide detectives need therapy,” Detective Ricardo Morales said.

“Therapy? I don’t need no fucking therapy,” Manning snapped. The third man smirked way too loud making Manning glare at him. He was in a three-piece grey suit with a brown tie. Of course, Manning was in all black.

“You’re right Arman, he is stubborn,” the man said with a British accent.

“Oh whatever….Govenah!” Manning mocked with an accent of his own.

“I’m the best British Chief Inspector, Randall Pepperidge, thank you very much. Gamache and I have been friends for years and he’s a lot more compassionated than most,” Randall explained.

“Yeah, I got that. He’s a little too soft if you ask me,” Manning huffed.

“Hey, knock it off Manning. Like I said we’re just trying to help, unless you want to end up just like your wife in the psyche ward,” Morales countered.

“Hey at least I’m still married,” Manning protested.

“My divorce was peaceful and my daughter still likes me,” Morales spoke back calmly.

“My daughter likes me too! I saved her life from that Ripper fucker!” Manning snapped.

“Are you in therapy Morales?” Pepperidge asked.

“Of course I am. It comes with the job and I’m not ashamed of it,” Morales directed that last part to Manning. He just rolled his eyes.

“That’s what bitching at your partner is for,” Manning said with a pout and crossed his arms.

“Manning, you’ve got a lot going on. You can talk to us,” Gamache spoke gently.

“I deal with some pretty heavy stuff…yes,” Manning huffed. “At least I didn’t humiliate myself and learned from my mistakes,” Manning snapped at Pepperidge.

“What are you talking about?” Randall asked confused. Now it was Manning’s turn to snicker.

“I didn’t lose a bet and wear a giant pink tutu with a pink fluffy handbag,” Manning laughed. Pepperidge turned beat red as the other two tried to hold back their laughter.

“Well it was my own fault. I had to hold up to my end of things,” he mumbled quietly.

“Not to mention that you pulled it off very well. What fucking middle-aged man can pull off a god-damn tutu…” Manning laughed. Now Morales and Gamache burst out laughing.

“Nice sock suspenders by the way,” Morales giggled.

“I did hear that you caught the bouquet too,” Gamache added.

“Yes, I did. I thought it was lovely…and I happened to be engaged now too!” Pepperidge snapped.

“Well, congrats to you, you big ballerina,” Manning teased.

“Well, at least we caught our suspect! You only caught a crazy woman who stabbed her husband!” Pepperidge argued back.

“Hey take that back!” Manning snapped as he stood up. Now things were starting to heat up. “At least I got teased for a potential sequel.”

“So?”

“I’m not in the reboot stage.” Pepperidge flinched at that.

“Come on Manning, be nice,” Morales insisted.

“And what about you DA boy? Can you make up your fucking mind? Oh wait not even your show runners can with the back and forth episodes!” Manning laughed.

“Yeah well…” Morales tried to argue but all he did was pout.

“Ok Manning, you’ve made your point,” Gamache spoke.

“At least my story didn’t end on a cliffhanger!” The other two let out a dramatic gasp.

“Low blow Manning,” Morales muttered.

“There is a petition going around,” Gamache said calmly.

“Ha! When was the last time that worked?”

“Well, Lucifer was picked up by Netflix and…what was that other show…oh yes! Manifest!” Pepperidge spoke up.

“It was a rhetorical question tutu,” Manning growled.

“I’ve got a lot of books…” Gamache spoke weakly.

“Oh, who the fuck reads anymore!? You get all these fuckers destroying all these good books with all these shitty movie adaptations. Half the time no one knows there was a book in the first place!”

“Wow…you really are one mean son of a bitch,” Gamache sighed.

“Maybe you’ll get a movie or something. That seems to be the latest trend now,” Manning added.

“Feel better?”

“Actually…fuck yes I do!” Manning cheered. “Thanks guys, see yah later,” Manning practically skipped out the door.

“Asshole,” Morales growled.

“You should get your sorcerer buddy for that one,” Pepperidge said to Gamache.

“No! They would have gotten along!” Morales said with dread.

“Yeah, and he hardly gets along with anyone as it is,” Gamache sighed rubbing his eyes.

“I heard that!” Horvath yelled.

[oneblueimp]

[A Fallen "Human"] by kirbygirl20 on ao3 has made me want to write a fic inspired by it cause DAMN I love the concept!! ((It's about Undertale-sans, as a human, replacing UnderFELL Frisk as the fallen human. And oh fuck it's fantastic!))

((((Like I don't even read undertale fics that often??? But yes????)))))

So now I'm working on my own "UT sans, as a human, falls into Underfell" fic, and I'm loving it.

Also said "Fuck it" and made it so two humans are still alive in the ruins with Toriel. Cause UF Toriel WILL use excessive force to keep her kids there after the first few ones were killed.

I mean, why not? I can put my own spin on things lol.

So yeah, that's fun.

Want some useless information about them? Yes? GREAT 👍

Perseverance:

Age: 10 (side note: fell down 3 months earlier)

He dreams of becoming a mechanic, like his dad. He's shy, and his love language is touch. Cuddle the child, please. He wants hugs and parental approval. Give it to him.

He never gives up.

(Side note: sans has a stubble -> Stubble -> Adult -> parent -> Perseverance wants sans approval -> he picks up on telling jokes -> fuxk the cute kid tells jokes now -> though he sucks at it -> too cute)

Sans (Patience):

Age: 17 [he absorbed the Patience soul from his universe, and they kinda fused. And since Patience was a kid and Sans was an adult: boom, teenager]

Just Sans (+ a few memories from a traumatised and abused child)

Chubby cheeks.

Integrity:

Age: 16 (side note: fell down at age 12)

Outgrew her ballet shoes and tutu a few years back. Settled for a normal skirt.

She looks a little scary, but she always behaves ethically and does the right thing, even behind closed doors ✅️ (side note: she does think she's the chosen one and that she's currently in hell, but nobody's perfect)

(side-side note: sometimes (read: most times) she's aggressive in her actions, even when they're ethically correct)

Barges into a police station, slams a purse onto the table. Glares. "Some fucker forgot it at the park" Leaves. Refuses to elaborate.

[sardonic-the-writer]

Egos in dresses. (I really wanna see Wilford in the strawberry dress) would they wear them and if so what would they look like? (How greasy does Engineers get? I'm guessing very)

I loved trying to figure out which dresses each would wear. And I think I nailed it!

━MARKIPLIER ☆

He would at the most wear a crop top. One, he would look amazing in it, and two he didn't want any of his fans to take seeing him in a dress too far; so a crop top it is.

Still kicks total ass though >:D

━DARKIPLIER ☆

This demon fucking rocks a dark satin ball gown. His inner diva comes out. Probably adorns one of those sleeveless dresses that does a little dip in the front to show off what would be cleavage, but just ended up being man tits (Equaly as good in my opinion.) Shows off his arms too!

Don't get caught making fun of him though. We all saw what happened to Anti when he stepped on the back of the dress. Hope he recovers well

━ANTISEPTICEYE ☆

Has a kilt with lots of chains and designs. Imagine Klaus Hargreeves but more mischievous and green. That's Anti in a dress.

He's been saving the kilt in the back of his closet for a while. It's only seen the light of day in more drunken hazes, but he brought the fucker our just for you >:)

━WILFORD ☆

Strawberry dress all the way. Even let's you put clip on earrings on his ears in the shape of berries and do his make up! An all around fashion shoe.

Wilford got a ten out of ten from the judges (aka you)

━YANCY ☆

Got a tutu from you on mail day! It was becuase he had mentioned wanting to try on a dress before just to see how it felt, and you stored that information away for later.

The jail wouldn't let you mail a whole outfit in case it was to conceal anything, so you had to get Yancy a pull over tutu instead.

He practically burst into happy tears when he opened your package :)

━ENGINEER ☆

No matter what dress he wears it always gets so fucking dirty. At this point you're considering taking a power washer and seeing if even that will get this man clean.

But no matter how many stains bleed through, you both still have so much fun doing a try-on-athon

━ACTOR ☆

This man whore (affectionate) wears a skin tight, blood red dress that stops mid thigh. It's honestly very fitting of his personality. Screams "fuck gender norms" as well

Actor looked very proud of himself when you couldn't stop staring at him with a red face

━ILLINOIS ☆

Illinois wears a potato sack as a dress. It makes no sense to you at first, in fact you think he's joking, but then it runs out he had a reason for doing that.

Apparently Marilyn Monroe wore a potato sack to a photoshoot once! It was to shoot down claims that she was "only sexy becuase of the clothes", so the lady picked out a sack of spuds and rocked that.

You had smiled at Illinois love for history, as well as how happy he looked in the brown outfit.

[darkmoongazer]

ATLA Fanfic Search

4Hi ya'll

I'm looking for a ATLA fanfic but I can only basically one thing and it's driving me mad.

it features Jet, Zuko, and Smellerbee (It could be one of the other freedom fighters but I'm almost certain it's Smellerbee)

It happens in Ba Sing Se

Jet still suspects Zuko of being a firebender

Smellerbee(?) thinks Jet has a crush on Li

Zuko reads a rejection letter crafted by Smellerbee(?) to reject Jet

Please help

---- 

NOW TURNED RECOMMENDATION!!!!

THANK YOU TUMBLR more specifically muffinlance

It was indeed "The Worst Prisoner" by emletish (AO3)

More specifically part II

But first let me tell you about part I and as all things I recommend it’s going to be a series of quotes of the best moments with no context

Gaang kidnapps Zuko fic.

Good uncle Iroh

“Trust me, you don't want Zuko,“He is a terrible kisser.” (Ch. 2)

“I am the only person here who hasn't accidentally wrecked a town,” (ch. 4)

Repeated use of the word “Hedgehog fucker”

“I think you need to push deeper ... into me ,” (ch. 10)

“And maybe he deserved to be kicked in his nuts eight times—” (ch. 11)

“This seemed to annoy the Giant Koi Monster. It stared at Zuko.” (ch. 15)

Secret Old People Flower Friends club (ch 16. )

“Is Pakku one of your flower friends?” (ch 16. )

Now, for part II (the one I was searching for)

“Death from too many love proverbs.” (ch. 1)

“Ah, yes! The Flower Friends!” (ch. 1)

“Hey, Azula, is that our dad wearing a sequinned tutu over there?” (ch. 1)

“Go fuck yourself, Jet!” .“I already did!” (ch. )

At least you've admitted you're stalking me now” (ch. 9)

Bossy Sexy Katara

“because you're both tall, grumpy bitches with messy dark hair and two swords.” (ch. 9)

Lee read Smellerbee's Guide to Letting Jet Down Gently out loud. (ch. 9)

They were arrested by the district guards not long after the fifth pineapple. (ch. 9)

Crush? The plot was rapidly thickening. (ch.10)

Frozen hell, the spirits had given Sokka a rare and hilarious gift. (ch. 11)

Code Names courtesy of Sokka (ch. 11)

“Do you think they'll ever figure out that Zuko's really a firebender?” (ch. 11)

“Oh no, not written instructions!” “Lee's one true weakness!” (ch. 12)

Yeah that’s all I got. I left out a lot of my favorite scenes because their too long. This story is so fucking good. 

Author Emletish is still working on the third in series but the other two parts above are complete. 

10/10 story. 

I loved rereading. 

[spiltscribbles]

Hi love!! I just took a look at the prompt lists u have linked and the prompt “you said what to your teacher?” sounds like it could be absolutely hilarious if u wanna write something for that!! <33333

Notes: OMFG HIYA DAN BABEYYYY!!!! Thank you SO SO much you absolute angel face!!! This was the first thing I tried writing and actually enjoyed and just wrote it all at once in the middle of the night dlkfsajlkgjasdofiewghklsdgj THANK YOU AND I LOVE YOU!!!!

.-

You Said What To Your Teacher? | Send Me A Prompt💜

.-

“Do you remember when we were nine and I gave you my last sparkler because Regulus was crying that he wanted your purple smoke bomb and I was left with only my shitty poppers to throw when the ball dropped on New Year’s.”

Sub half way to his mouth and mobile lodged between his shoulder and ear, Sirius gently sets down his sandwich and dabs off the splatter of mayonnaise on his cupids bow as he tries to parse out what in bloody hell his best friend is blabbering on about.

“Oh, hi, Jem. Yeah I’m doing well, mate, thanks for asking. Works the typical grind but I think Minnie is about to give me that promotion any day now.”

“It’s a simple yes, or no answer, arse.” James retorts haughtily, sounding somehow frenzied and buoyant all at once.

“Pardon me, I thought we would just have a normal conversation like typical blokes,” Sirius sniffs, tilting back on his chair and clicking around on his desktop to look at the revised dimensions of a new building his firm was employed to begin constructing in south London. “Now remind me, my sweet. Was this the same New Year’s that you stuffed that stink bomb in the back of my shirt after stomping on it so it’d explode on me?”

“That is neither here, nor there.”

“I still feel the debris on my poor back on especially rough days.”

“You’re a twat.”

“And you’re acting dodgy.”

“I need a favor, and I thought a transactional proposition would be the sort of thing that you corporate types would appreciate.” James jabs, laughter in his words. Sirius just hopes he could picture the middle finger he’s emulating through the line.

“Just because you’ve completed residency doesn’t make you a special snowflake, you do realize this, correct?” Sirius tells him, already shooting a message to Minerva and his team that he’ll be jetting off a bit earlier so he could do whatever it is that James needs.

“Slander! It makes me the most special snowflake, Black. And it eats you up inside.” James retorts, moving away from the receiver to yell something towards one of his interns about a patient or the other.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, gorgeous. Now are you going to ever tell me what it is you need from me, or keep trying to get in my trousers, because listen either option is aces on my end. I’ll just add it to the document I send Lily every week about how I’m so obviously your dream partner.”

“It always just comes back to your burning jealousy that I chose her over you, doesn’t it?” James pretends to sigh forlornly. “Listen, my love. It’s not my fault that some birds are just born prettier than others.”

“Psha, I’m the prettiest fucker you know, Potter.”

“It’s the attitude for me, just absolutely no decorum about you.”

“Is this about that snag with me teaching Haz how to properly curse at a United fan?” Sirius asks, moving to collect his satchel and jacket. “Because I stand by that. We’re a fucking Arsenal family, damn it.”

“We were at brunch when he called that poor woman a weasel faced toad, Sirius.”

“Good man,” Sirius insists, waving goodbye to the secretary who always gives him the most devoted heart eyes.

“Well, speaking of the sprog. I’m stuck here with a new bout of paperwork to get someone transported to us from a hospital in the states, and Lily’s stuck in the maternity ward till at least nine.”

“Ooo, a bit of God father/God son time then??”

“With great power, comes great responsibility,” James says gravely.

“What have I told you about your shitty nerd references and how they give me a rash.”

“Spider-man isn’t simply for nerds you absolute pleb! There’s been three bloody franchisements for him in the past two decades!”

“Imma let Harry eat ice cream for dessert, I reckon.”

“Then you’ll have Lily to answer to,” James warns, still seething from the jibe. “And if you’re taking the bike, can you at least park a block away. This new school we’ve enrolled him into this year is well and proper, and I’d not want them to think that our son’s God father is some sort of ne’er-do-well.”

“You put respect on Rosco’s name, or so help me!”

“Right, right, the only constant love in your life.”

“She’s the only one who understands me.”

“ Whatever, just try and behave decently, will you?”

“Hah, and why wouldn’t I?” Sirius asks as he tosses his helmet into the air, patting Rosco in apology for James’s impertinence.

“Hmm, we’ll see, won’t we.” James says in an irritatingly ominous tone before clicking off the line.

.-

There are a lot of reasons why Sirius could hate James. He could hate him for forcing Sirius to join him on his morning runs, or hate him for his intensely perky attitude about every sodding thing. Hell he could probably hate him for his complete disregard of the mad sport that is American football. But all that withstanding, Sirius reasons that for today he’ll hate him for his cryptic fucking warning and how he knew this would happen and is probably cackling over it as he fills out a new set of discharge papers.

That absolute, unceasing, weasel faced, toad.

The ‘this’ that Sirius is referring to of course is the fact that Sirius is left dumbstruck and gawping as he strolls leisurely into Harry’s third year class, eyes roaming over the small cluster of children who had stayed after hours for extra tutoring and who are now just lounging around, waiting for a guardian to come and pick them up. But instead of first spotting the dark head that belongs to his God son, Sirius’s gaze focusses on a man… A very fit, very golden, very beautiful man. A man that’s all lithe limbs and honey eyes, and a small, quietly encouraging smile as he kneels down to chat with a blonde girl who’s got on a blue tutu and rainbow poncho.

“Fuck you James Potter,” Sirius hisses lowly to himself as he tries to collect his wits about him, and remind himself that flirting with his God son’s actual, fucking professor is not a thing that is approved of.

“Uncle Pads!”

Sirius starts, feeling suddenly grounded as Harry bounds towards him and hugs his torso with a tight squeeze. “Hiya Prongslet,” he says, grinning indulgently as he ruffles a hand through Harry’s wild mop of curls.

“Am I coming to yours then?”

“If you’ll have me,” Sirius winks, tapping the bridge of his specs fondly.

“Brilliant! I’ll just tell Professor Lupin.”

Oh, that’s a very sexy name if Sirius does say so himself, though he tries not to marinate on the fact as he waits patiently while Harry leads that absolutely delicious looking man towards him. And God, the way he’s tipping back his head only slightly to meet Sirius’s gaze— It’s lewd.

“You’re Harry’s God father, yes?” Is the first thing Professor Lupin says to him, stretching out a hand that’s all long fingers stained by ink, and knobby knuckles that Sirius suddenly has the insane craving to nip at.

Jesus, he needs to get himself the fuck together.

“Ahem, yes, yes. I’m that. I’m Sirius I mean— Oh, my name, and erm— I’m also serious that I am his God father, that is a thing.” Sirius rambles, feeling like a complete idiot as he takes hold of Remus’s slender hand into his own, and shakes it with two, awkward pumps— holding onto it for a beat too long.

Sirius repeats, fuck James Potter.

“Right,” Professor Lupin says with something akin to amused. “Well he’s only got his maths to finish tonight, and a bit more reading for history.”

“Oh, good. I’ll definitely help with that. I’m great with numbers.”

“Wonderful,” Professor Lupin nods at him before peering down at Harry and grinning widely. “You did great today, just keep up with your novel for Professor Meadows and you’re splendid. Yeah?”

“Thank you Professor Lupin,” Harry preens, chest puffed out not unlike how James had used to do back in their school days every time they won a footie match.

“Nice meeting you Mr— ah?”

“Black!” Sirius quickly offers, straightening up immediately like a rose bud stretching towards the sun. “Sirius Black.”

The corner of Professor Lupin’s mouth twitches up, and Sirius is struck with the searing need to see the full force of his smile directed towards him— and also to snog it right off. “Remus Lupin, just to make things even.”

And fuck.

Sirius swears— hand on his chest and face to God— that it was a flirtatious inflection that Professor Lupin— Remus— used right then, but before he can even have the chance to toy around with the development, a mother in yoga pants and Starbucks strolls in and Remus walks over to greet her hello, and before Sirius knows it, Harry’s tugging on his hand and dragging him out the room.

Damn it.

.-

Despite his total and complete fail of a first meeting with Harry’s sickeningly attractive professor, the rest of the night turns out to go as perfectly as planned. Otherwise known as them stuffing themselves with greasy pizza, and heaps of ice cream, and staying up an hour past Harry’s typical bed time to play Far Cry instead. And if Sirius contemplates asking him more about this elusive Remus Lupin, he bites down the urge and concentrates on sticking his spoon onto his nose before Harry could beat him in their match.

It’s totally fine.

That is until it’s six o’clock in the ruddy morning and he’s woken up by the loud knocking of his front door, only to be met by the grossly chipper faces of Lily and James— that sort of glow is only a thing that happens after a good shag, and Sirius knows that for fact.

“We brought pasties,” Lily tells him as she sashays indoors, red main of hair billowing in the late autumnal breeze and her voice ringing out like she’s some sort of radio show host.

“How was last night?” James asks him as he toes off his boots and follows Lily to the kitchen.

“Fine,” Sirius gripes, still pissy from James’s cruel joke. “Haz is always great.”

“Mmm, I hope Remus didn’t give you any trouble picking him up, you’re on the paperwork and everything but it’s the first time he ever met you and all.” Lily says, faux lightly as she picks out the plates and turns on the electric kettle.

“You knew!” Sirius accuses emphatically, pointing a heated finger her way and then directing it towards James.

“Knew that he is exactly your type?”

“And that you’d look like a tosser talking to him for the first time,” Lily tacks on, giggling.

“Fuck you, and fuck your weird, married telepathy!”

“Nah, not telepathy mate,” James assures, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re just incredibly predictable.”

“We’d have to be thick not to know that you’d be a total idiot around him— You’re the worst whenever you have to talk to pretty people who you actually want to do more than just screw.”

Sirius feels himself go scarlet. “That is an attack on my person, Evans!”

“Yes, dear. I know.” Lily croons, patting him on the cheek like a doting grandmother. “But does it help that I think you should totally go for it.”

“Lily! He’s our son’s teacher!”

“Only for this year,” Lily shrugs, sitting on a stool that lines the island. “Besides, I really like Remus. We have the same cycling class and he taught me how to make my face into an emoji like I’m a Kardashian.”

“You guys talk about’m like he’s the second coming of Christ,” James harrumphs, doling out their mugs with a scowl.

“He’s just so pretty,” Sirius sighs, beyond dejected. “Did you see that little birthmark on his cheek that looks like a butterfly! And Jesus, his eyes are like a third of his face!”

“Don’t forget how well he fills out those trousers for such a skinny bloke,” Lily adds, mixing the honey into the tea that James had just poured her.

“I alas did not get a chance to give his ass the appraisal it warrants,” Sirius bemoans.

“I very much do not like the idea that my best friend and wife are thirsting over the same bloke.” James sniffs.

“Jealous, lover,” Lily leers, laughing at how James wrinkles his nose at them and kisses his cheek in reassurance. But Sirius doesn’t pay them any of his attention, is too distracted by painting the picture of Remus in his mind’s eye, and how he really does need a second look if he loves himself at all.

“He’s like those caramel lollypops from when we were kids,” he tells them unceremoniously. “But instead of that tart middle, he’s just sweetness through the center.”

“You want to lick him, huh?” Lily asks, smirking at him with a lecherous air.

“I want to lick him until he goes mad and begs me to just flip’m over and—“

“Enough!” James quickly cuts in with a smack of the hand against the countertop. “This man is Harry’s professor, I can’t have these sort of images of him while I go to pick him up after class.”

Sirius jerks forwards, beyond excited. “Then let me pick up Haz from school today, yeah? It’ll give me a chance to speak with Remus!”

“Why do you want to talk to Mr Lupin?”

The three adults turn around at once, met by the image of Harry in the spare uniform he keeps at Sirius’s house— hair sleep rumpled and specs askew.

“Hallo my beautiful boy,” Lily grins, her and James each kissing his cheek and giving his shoulders a squeeze as he sits between them.

“Why do you want to talk to Professor Lupin, Uncle Sirius.” Harry asks again, earnestly as he tares apart his cheese and veggie pasty. “Do you like him?”

“Oh, erm—“ Sirius feels his insides squirm, not sure where to step, afraid that his God son might not appreciate the fact that Sirius’s already planning out a reception party for his impending nuptials with Remus.

“I think it’d be cool if you did.”

And in an instant, Sirius feels his shoulders loosen and his smile go elastic. God he loves this kid. “yeah?”

“Mhmm,” Harry nods, taking a sip of his water to clear his throat. “Ron told me that Professor Lupin use to be married to his Uncle Fabs and then they broke up last year, so I bet he’s sad now. And you’re the best person on the planet and you always have fun! You should make him happy again.”

Sirius’s heart seizes, suddenly needing to be the person to help Remus with anything he could ever need.

“You’re a diamond kiddo, you know that?” Sirius says, standing up to lift his eight year old God son into the air and blowing a raspberry to his cheek. “Shove it to your dad, you’ll be my best man at the wedding, yeah?”

“Imma need to start smoking if he’s gonna be this much of a prat all the time now,” James mutters lowly, making it so Lily crows with laughter.

.-

That afternoon finds Sirius parked back outside Harry’s school, straightening the collar of his jacket and combing a hand through his hair. Though once he steps into the nearly emptied classroom, he’s still slack jawed when Remus looks over his shoulder towards the door and grins at him in such a glimmering sort of way, that it punches Sirius in the fucking solar plexus!

“Mr Black, twice in one week?”

“Hah— Yeah.” Sirius hopes his smile comes out more gentle than a grimace. “It’s not far from my work, actually. So I guess I’ll be around more often.” In fact, the drive is a good twenty minutes from his office, but Sirius doesn’t think that’s really relevant.

“Lucky us.” Remus retorts, looking up and down his frame with a slow, languid sort of gaze that makes Sirius feel filleted right open. “Well I can’t wait to get to know you better.”

“You can know whatever you want,” Sirius practically sputters, wonders if he should try and act cool, especially now that Harry’s wandered over towards them.

“Is that an open offer?” Remus asks, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and lying back leisurely against his desk.

“Yes. Yes, absolutely.”

Remus’s beautiful face goes absolutely incandescent right then. “Good.”

“Good,” Sirius repeats, completely devout.

“Oh, before you go,” Remus says, pointer finger raised to freeze them while his other hand fishes into a drawer of his desk. “It’s not a caramel pop, but at least the Tutsi ones are sweet all the way through.”

Sirius feels his jaw completely drop while Remus gently places the stick of the treat into his open hand, tossing him a quick wink before walking off to chat with a new parent who had wandered in.

“Harry— You said what to your teacher.”

“That you said he looked like a caramel pop,” Harry answers, totally owlish and unconcerned.

Sirius contemplates drowning into the lake, but then decides that this is a game he will not lose against Remus.

“All right, Prongslet. Let’s grab us some chocolate eggs and you can tell me everything you know about your dear Professor.”

“Okay, Uncle Pads,” Harry beams.

.-

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist💜

[antisociallilbrat]

Blue Steel Chp. 3

Read on Ao3

Chp. 4

Chp. 2

Warnings: Sexual themes and drug and alcohol use, implied prostitution

Rating: E

Pairings : Stan Uris / Bill Denbrough, Eddie Kaspbrak / Richie Tozier

It’s one lively night at King’s Palace, that much is for sure. Bill doesn’t know why, but he has a feeling that tonight is going to be a stand out. Or maybe there’s just something in the cosmos trying to make him feel a little better as he extracts himself from under (Henry’s?) the big guy’s hairy arm.

The man is laying across the couch in one of the private rooms at the club, smoking a post sex cigarette, not bothering to cover up his naked body. Not like his equipment is exactly impressive or anything. Bill on the other hand is quick to tie his silk robe back around himself. He wishes he could say he feels ashamed of agreeing to have sex with anyone at Robert’s beckoning call, but at this point he’s gone numb to it. Just another part of the job.

“That wuh-was real great hot sh-shot, I’ll see you around,” he smiles and winks at the man, under full knowledge that this ‘friend of Roberts’ will report everything back to the man.

The man just grunts in response as Bill makes his exit, a little wobble in his step.

“Hey watch out!”

Bill quickly pushes himself against the door, “Uh, sorry?"

One of the server’s narrowly avoids missing his toes with his skates as he hastily makes his way back to the show floor, not giving him a second glance. Nice ass though. Robert must only hire twinks with a little spit fire in them to be servers, they all seem to fit that mold. Eddie is the only server Bill’s bothered to learn personally though, so who really knows?

Making his way back to the house room, the room is in utter chaos, performances going strong. Strippers are in there either decompressing from a performance or getting ready to go back into the crowd and service a couple lucky customers. He has to avoid at least two other servers, who have changed into the picked uniform outfits of the night (little black skin tight unitards with a small royal blue tutu, courtesy of Bev) and making their way to the floor.

Bev appears to be restitching a button on another stripper's outfit, a prisoner costume, at her station when she looks up and spots him through the chaos. “William get that tight ass over here! You’re on in five!” She abandons her work before heading to the small platform in front of the full body mirror at the back of the room. Bev is scary when she’s show focused, and honestly this place wouldn’t be able to run without her.

He doesn’t get a moment to breathe before Bev is throwing a costume at him with an order to ‘change now!’. Dropping his robe (it’s hard to care about nudity in this industry) he quickly pulls on the black speedo that's much too tight, his ass hanging out of them. Bev descends on him, pulling a pair of black suspenders over his shoulders and attaching them to the garment. His ass stings a little when she tightens them, pulling the speedo up more. She pulls his hands into a pair black fingerless gloves also.

Doing a show right after being fucked is not his most ideal way of starting off, but the show must go on. The fucker ‘Henry ’ didn’t even make him cum, just grunted his way to his own orgasam, as Bill fake moaned encouragement to him before dropping over like a dead horse beside him once done. The guy even wanted to bitch about the ‘wear a condom rule’ and only compiled because it wasn’t Bill’s rule, it was Robert’s rule.

“Arms out Bill.” Bev tugs on a black trench coat, tying it around the middle, “It looks like it’s just gonna be you tonight for the big midnight show. Mike’s still in the private room with Robert’s other friend,” he doesn’t miss the way she spits out his name. He spares a glance at Robert’s office, but as always, the lights are out. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that Robert has a wife and kids at home, so he’s rarely ever at the club this late.

“They’re probably not even huh-having sex, he’s pruh-probably has the poor woman crying and b-b-baring her soul to him as he holds her in his big strong arms.” Mike just has that certain gift.

Bev snorts through her nose, “Yeah probably. All I know is I’m down a dancer for the main show,” she starts applying eyeliner on him. Bill doesn’t like a lot of makeup on his face but Bev always does it just right. "Unless you don't mind Charlie performing with you tonight, the guy knows the routines," she places a pair of aviation visor sunglasses on him when she finishes his eyeliner.

He quickly shakes his head, Charlie is a little off and frankly Bill just doesn't like him, “I can put a show on by muh-myself, I’ve done it before. Have a l-little faith in Blue Steel.” That gets him a punch to the arm.

“Yes I know William,” she goes to retrieve something at her work station.

Looking in the mirror for the first time, all he sees is the black trench coat which will come off during the performance, “Uh Bev, I know not to argue with your artistic abuh-abilities, but … what am I supposed to be?”

Coming back, he sees her holding a yellow hat, placing it on his head, “You’re a firefighter silly.” She checks her watch, “Shit! You’re supposed to be on now!”

She starts pushing him towards the curtains, when he stops at the side table. “Bill you don’t have time!”

“Give me a min,” he waves her off as she tries to push him, (it’s as good as pushing a brick wall) as he quickly snorts two lines of coke. His pre-show ritual.

“Billllll-”

“I know Bev, I’m going,” he takes his place behind the black curtain and waits as Bev heads to the microphone.

She mumbles her disapproval of his pre-show tradition as she scurries over there, “Good evening Ladies, Gays, and Theys! Is it getting a little hot in here?! Well have no fear, Blue Steel is here to cooool you down!”

He gets into character as “Fire Burning”, by Sean Kingston comes on the speakers and the curtain rises.

Sauntering on stage, he’s in a hurry to take this stupid trench coat off, it's hiding the money appeal. All smiles and kiss blowing, the club looks really full tonight. The couches are all taken by what seems to be a one huge party of middle aged women. More than likely a book club or something. Perfect.

The crowd is immediately screaming for him, and he hasn’t even shown off his body yet.

“How are we doing tonight ladies?!” His voice manages to carry over the music, a skill of the trade. The scream their response, money is already starting to fill the stage at his bare feet.

He smiles and chuckles, “A little buh-birdy told me that’s getting a little hot in here,” he unties his trench coat, “So I guess I’ll take off all my clothes!” he throws the coat to the ground. The line is cheesy and stupid, but they love it. They show it as he spots twenties and fifties now on stage with him out of the corner of his eyes, the women shrieking their approval.

Proceeding into the dance routine by himself is easy enough, only difference is he’s taking center stage instead of staying to the right due the absence of Mike. He’ll end up splitting the cash with Mike anyways. Them being the club’s best dancers and Robert’s most prized possessions means that sometimes their time with Robert’s ‘special guests’ will run over time and they may miss a performance. Mike has done the same for him before when one of Bill’s customers started crying after sex and he couldn’t just leave them. Mike and him have always had a mutual understanding and look after each other.

Thrusting his hips in the air, knowing that some lucky audience members are getting sights of side penis, since his junk is barely held in the flimsy material. Turning around and falling to his knees, he twerks his ass a little, getting a louder rise out of the crowd. He falls onto his forearms, ass barely still in the air as he brings his left knee, which is still on the ground, closer to chest, before doing a move that’s like twerking, but more thrusting into the air between the ground and his crotch in rhythm with the beat. His fake firefighter hat falls off sometime during the routine.

He pushes himself up, turning around to face the ladies again, jumping and dancing with beat. A bra gets thrown up at him, which he catches. He throws a wink and blows a kiss towards the direction that it came, seven drunk ladies screaming back at him, before he throws the bra back over his shoulder.

The song changes to “Rude Boy”, by Rihanna as he heads to his pole. Twirling his body around, showing off every spec of his marvelous body in beat to the music, closing his eyes, he feels powerful. The coke he's been snorting of course aides in this feeling.

The crowd wants him, they’re screaming for him, they’re throwing their good hard earned money (or at least their husbands) at him. Who else has this? This power? This seduction? Not many, that’s for damned sure.

He throws himself from his pole, landing solidly on his feet. There’s a woman sitting in the very center of the front couch, her gang around her trying to wave him over. He sees why when he gets closer, the woman in the center is wearing a “Happy Birthday ” sash.

The girls around her shriek when they realize his attention is all on them as he walks over. He jumps off stage, the ladies reaching to tuck money in his suspenders and speedo. The woman looks almost embarrassed as her ladies egg her on. That’s okay, Bill can work with embarrassed. He lowers his sunglasses to give her the once over, smirk prevalent on his lips, before taking the glasses off and throwing them over his shoulder.

He sits down to straddle her, her hands immediately going to his hips, and she gives him a shy smile. The woman looks a little worn with age, but she’s still pretty if anyone was to ask him.

Another song has started, “Can’t Be Tamed”, by Miley Cyrus, as he starts to twirl his hips in her lab. Using his hands on her petit shoulders, he pulls himself so that their chests are flushed against each other, her breasts poking into his abs. At this point he’s mock grinding down into her lap, which yes, it’d be a little nicer for him if there was a hot dick down there pressing back against him instead of a thighs and skirt. He’s breathing hotly down into her ear, singing the words softly. He doesn’t have to pull away to know she’s probably red as a tomato.

The song starts coming to an end and when he moves to stand, it looks like she almost doesn’t want to let go of his hips. Giggling, he takes her hands in his, kissing her palms. She’s red and stunned, but more importantly, looks ready to completely devour him. Just how he likes to leave his customers.

The woman hands him a handful money, which he gladly accepts, before jumping back on stage. He’s  smiling out at the whole crowd as he makes a show of stuffing the handful of cash down the front of his speedo (this cash he’ll keep for himself, he won’t give Mike his crotch money), making sure to exaggerate grabbing his junk. Oh how these people wish they could see what was underneath, he just knows it.

“Can’t Be Tamed”, comes back on, signaling that he’s to put on an encore. Not a problem in his book. He returns to the pole for the song this time.

That’s when he spots him, that familiar head of curls. Unfazed, he continues through the routine, his eyes now scanning the crowd. Is he here? Was that really him at the coffee shop? Surely it couldn’t have been.

He sees him again! Heading straight to the bathrooms! Well, more like drunkenly wobbling to the bathrooms. Suddenly for the first time in forever, he wishes his performance can end a little quicker, just so he can follow that mysterious stranger. He can't pinpoint what it is exactly, but he’s different. The way he looked at Bill that night hasn’t left his mind. And then the coffee shop incident happened, and if that is the same guy, he’s beautiful.

The ending of the song doesn’t come soon enough, when it does finally wrap up, he quickly kisses his goodbyes to the crowd. He disappears behind the curtain, the crowd almost whining for another encore. The money on stage will be picked up by a server and will be given to Bev who will count it and give it back to Bill. She’ll even automatically split it up between Bill and Mike.

“Hey Bill! Nice-”

“Not now Charlie,” He brushes past him, Charlie aka Officer Spank, who is getting ready to go on the stage for his own performance with another stripper, who’s named Big Daddy. Bill neither sees nor cares about the hurt look on his face.

Practically dashing to his dressing room, he starts throwing the money still in his costume haphazardly onto his vanity. He yanks his costume off and starts pulling on his ‘civilian’ clothes (a pair of black jeans and a blue t-shirt with a grey flannel) like a mad man. The crowd won’t recognize him if he’s dressed normally, a sad but true fact. But he gets the feeling that Man Mysterious did recognize him at the coffee shop, that means he was seeing more than Bill’s body and good looks, he was seeing Bill that night when he visited the club.

God, he really hopes he’s still in the bathroom, he wants this chance. A chance at what? He doesn't know for sure.

Narrowly avoiding anyone who looks like they want to talk to him, he makes it onto the show floor in two minutes flat. He keeps his head down as he navigates between the crowd, not wanting to risk a customer recognizing him and pulling him off his mission.

Out of all the years he’s worked here, he’s never used the club’s general restroom, always opting to use his private one in his dressing room. He half expects an overcrowded sleezy bathroom covered in filth. Like in the movies and tv shows.

Instead there’s nothing sleazy about it, it’s just your standard public bathroom, of course Robert would never have anything sleazy at his club. Except for the man himself. There’s not even anyone in the bathroom oddly, except for a man that sounds like he’s puking up his guts in one of the stalls.

He cautiously approaches it, the stall door slightly opened. Is this him? If so, how’s he gonna feel about Bill basically cornering him in the bathroom? Shit, that didn’t even cross his mind. His brain says ‘leave’ while his hand on the stall door says ‘push open’.

And that’s exactly what he does, he pushes the stall door right open, startling the man in question.

From where he’s crouched on the floor, he pushes himself up against the side of the stall, looking up at Bill with wide eyes. He resembles a scared baby deer, kinda like Bambi.

They proceed to have a staring contest, a heavy silence filling the air. Bill can’t recall the last time he’s ever felt this awkward. He’s supposed to be smooth and charming, he is those things, and this feeling of awkwardness almost feels foreign.

“Uh Hi?” Bill is the one to break the silence.

Mysterious man just continues to stare back at him, and he looks enchanted with Bill, even though Bill still has his clothes on! Ha! It’s almost makes him feel giddy to have such a pretty man looking at him like that, he feels a child with their first crush.

The guy must be heavily drunk though, if his appearance is any sign. His green button up is ruffled, half sticking out of his jeans. It reveals a silver of his collar bone and Bill really wants to lave his tongue over it. His curls are messy and hanging in his face, his pale cheeks flushed red from the alcohol and maybe a blush? Also, you know, the obvious, he was just vomiting.

Bill crouches down, the guy’s eyes never leaving his. “How are you fuh-feeling? Must not feel too h-hot.”

Out of nowhere the man starts crying, “I’m sorry Bill! I’m really sorry!” he mumbles through his sobs, snot and tears running down his face.

Bill is stunned. How does he know his name? When did he learn his name? Bill never gives out his name to customers. Many have asked for it too. It had to have been at the coffee shop, he must’ve overheard Audra. Was it on purpose? And how much did he hear of their conversation?

He expects to feel angry or annoyed by this, but instead just worries over the sobbing man and sitting on the bathroom floor. Sitting also on the floor, he pulls the man into his arms, the guy gives little resistance. The man starts to cling his shoulders and tucks his head under Bill’s chin as he cries, and he fits perfectly in Bill’s arms. He’s warm against his chest and Bill coos into his hairline, trying to calm him. Daring even to place a small kiss on his forehead. The smell of booze is prevalent on him, but he doesn’t mind, he just hugs him closer. This is not how he imagine spending his night, and he’s not too upset about what it’s become.

Eventually the crying subsides, turning into pathetic sniffles. Bill tries to speak to him again, “Why are you s-sorry? You can tuh-tell me honey,” he rubs soothing circles into his back.

It sounds like he’s about to cry again, but chokes it back, “Because, I spelt coffee on myself,” He’s just now realizing how slurred his words are, how much has he had to drink tonight?

“And why are you ap-ap-apologizing for that? It was kinda cute honestly.”

“I spelt coffee on myself,” he replies with more convection, starting to sound like a stubborn child. He even grips Bill’s shirt a little tighter.

He laughs a little, “Okay, you spilt coffee on yourself. That’s okay.”

The man takes a minute before he nods his head a little, “Okay, it’s okay.”

Bill tries to stand, and once realizes he doesn’t have the heart to extract the drunk guy from him, he just picks him up with him. The man only whines a little in response. He’s a little on the small side, not Eddie small, but still small, so it’s nothing for Bill to handle.

He carries him over to the sink and sets him down on the counter. Wetting a paper towel, he begins to clean him up. Wiping some vomit off his shirt and then getting a new wet paper towel to gently wipe away his tears. The man sits there pliantly as a comfortable silence falls over them. He’s not looking at him, but he knows he is staring at him, wide eyed. A little Bambi.

Moments pass and Bill has cleaned everything up, mainly just wiping his face as an excuse to keep touching him. (Why is his skin so soft?) The man seems to sober up a little but appears to still be very much intoxicated.

“You know, it’s not to-to fair that you know my name, but I don’t know yours,” he jokes casually.

Sniffles. And then very softly, “Stan, my name is Stan.”

He smiles, “Okay Stan, how are you feeling?”

Stan is quick to reply, “Very icky.”

“Well that’s no guh-good,” he grabs Stan’s hand, “Come on, jump down. Let’s see what I cuh-can do.”

The moment Stan gets off the counter, he nearly falls down, luckily Bill is there to catch him. “Okay, you’re definitely still feeling icky.” Stan nods in agreement, looking a little green.

He thinks for a moment. What is he supposed to do? Did Stan come by himself? He had a friend with him last time if he remembers correctly, but where is he? He can’t leave him, and not out of obligation like most times with past customers, but because he genuinely wants to make sure Stan gets somewhere safe.

“Are you here with anyone? D-Do you have anyone you can call?”

Stan looks like he’s suddenly remembering something, “Richie! Richie is here! But he disappeared with the server a while ago,” he ends softly.

Great, that doesn’t tell him anything.

Stan shivers, grabbing his attention, “Are you cold?”

They keep the temperature low because with all the people and dancers, it's easy to overheat. Its’s a relief for the dancers, because even with the AC on, Bill stills sweats on stage. But in the small bathroom, you can really feel how cold it is.

He shakes his head no, “Just tired.” Another shiver runs up his spine.

Bill breaks physical contact with him so he can shuck off his flannel. “Here, you can wear thu-this.”

Stan looks at him hesitatingly before accepting it. He’s really drunk so Bill has to help him into it, but it’s worth it. The flannel completely engulfs him, it’s cute.

“Let’s go find Richie,” he says as he grabs Stan’s arm, supporting his weight. Stan wraps his arms around Bill’s torso, it kinda makes his heart flutter. (When was the last time his heart ‘fluttered’?)

On the show floor Stan clings close, Bill wraps a protective arm around him. The crowd is too busy watching the dancers so they don’t pay the two any mind. Bill does stop by the bar to grab a Gatorade for Stan, which Ben gives him a questioning look when he sees the man practically clinging to Bill. He’ll answer his questions later. (And Bev’s because if Ben knows, Bev knows.)

He doesn’t have a clue what ‘Richie’  really looks like and really is just hoping Stan will spot him. Though he does keep an eye out for any servers that may be flirting with customers. That’s most of the servers, so that’s no help.

The search is starting to seem futile when a yell comes behind them.

“Stanley!”

Stan jumps under his arm and looks towards the source of the shout.

A man in an awful Hawaiian shirt with crazy dark curls and a pair of thick glasses comes storming their way. Is that Eddie trailing behind him? Looking … frazzled? What exactly were these two doing he wonders.

‘Richie’ doesn’t spare Bill a glance, completely opposite of the first time they ‘met’. “Stan I leave for a couple minutes, and you just, you just disappear!” He throws his hands up in the air before running one through his curls, “You just really scared me there.”

“I’m sorry Richie,” he’s starting to sniffle again as he presses closer to Bill.

“It’s fine,” he gives a pained expression back to Eddie, “Let’s just go home.” He finally acknowledges Bill by shooting him a grateful and knowing smile before trying to grab Stan.

Stan just stubbornly clings tighter to Bill, “I don’t wanna leave yet.” Honestly, Bill doesn't want him too either.

Richie glances between them exasperated, “Okay Stanny, you’ve had your fun, but now it’s time to say goodnight to the nice stripper.”

He can feel Stan shake his head beside him.

Richie’s about to plead again when Eddie interjects, coming up to place a hand on Richie’s shoulder, “Richie wait, this is Bill,” Bill gives a small wave, “And Stan is safe with him. We can leave Stan with him, I trust Bill.” That's actually not a bad idea now that Eddie mentions it. Stan can stay over and sober up at his place. Or really, the place he shares with everyone.

Richie looks like he’s torn in a battle between his dick and brain. (Been there dude.) “Stanny boy needs to sleep, I can’t just leave him with a stranger. Plus he’s going to be hella hungover tomorrow.”

“He can sleep at muh-my place.”

Richie gives him an untrusting glare.

“He’ll just sleep, I promise. I’ll even sleep in another r-room,” Bill replies, putting his hands up against his chest in mock surrender. Everyone at home will have questions, but it'll be worth it.

Richie looks between Stan and Eddie like he’s making the hardest decision of his life, directing his next question to Eddie, “You really trust him?”

“With my life Chee. I even live with him.”

Sighing, Richie finally relents, (It was probably the pet name) “Listen here Billiam, I expect you to text me when you get home, which you will leave for right now. Stan isn’t in any shape to be out right now.” Bill nods, already getting his phone out. “And if Stan is not in absolute perfect condition when I get him tomorrow, I will have your head. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.” Somehow this goofy looking guy actually seems a little threatening, him and Bev would be best friends. He hands Richie his phone.

“God, I’m such a bad friend,” Richie mumbles under his breath as he takes Bill’s phone, putting his number in. He’s about to pass it back when he gets a mischievous look in his eyes, “Say cheese Stanny!”

The flash is bright as he takes a picture of the two of them on Bill’s phone. Stan whines in response.

Bill gives Richie an amused look due to his reaction. Richie just shrugs his shoulders, “Stan’s emotional and clingy when drunk.”

When his phone is back in his hand he sees Richie has sent the photo to his own phone, “Oh, that’s just in case I have to report you to the police.” He smiles as he says it but Bill can tell Richie wouldn’t hesitate to do exactly that. Good on him.

“Okay, well Bonjour! Too aloo!” Richie grabs Eddie’s hand, “Stan the man you’re so going to be upset with yourself in the morning!” he starts pulling Eddie back through the crowd. Eddie gives Bill a sheepish wave before he loses sight of them.

Stan seems unbothered by anything that just happened. He’s leaning on Bill more now, seeming ready to pass out.

Bill is practically carrying Stan at this point as he makes his way to his dressing room. Bev gives him a playful smile while Charlie shoots Stan a glare. Bill glares back.

Quickly he grabs his backpack and hauls Stan out the back entrance of the club to his car. He’s sober enough to drive, only having done a couple lines of coke earlier in the night. His silver Volvo sits pretty under a light. He has to practically buckle Stan into the passenger seat, him whining as his physical contact from Bill was being taken away from him. When he gets into the drivers side, he realizes he misses it too. What was this man doing to him?

Stan looks half asleep against the door once settled and Bill reaches for his cigarettes in his console, lighting one and cracking a window.

It’s peacefully quiet when Stan mumbles something.

“What was that?” he didn’t quite hear him.

“Those are bad, you’re bad,” he mumbles louder.

Bill laughs, “Okay, I’m bad then.”

A/N: Don't drive while under any intoxicating influences! Bad Bill!

[hua-fei-hua]

what did u read this weekend!!!!! i remembered to ask im proundof myself

the way tumblr frames answering questions on desktop is so weird now make it go back i hate it here

anyway,,, thank you for remembering and asking the answer is absolutely none of the fics i already had open at the start of the weekend. i went looking for princess tutu fic bc i was thinking abt the show again ahahaha

Frame Story by jibrailis - became bookmark #14. it has spoilers for the end of princess tutu, so i won't go into the plot or anything like that, but i really really like the way the story is presented, with this seemingly unrelated story told spliced between the story we are expecting, and then they tie together at the end in much the same way princess tutu the show surprises its viewers with its narrator. it's a nice oneshot at around 9k words, and i loved the pacing and the characterization and just the sass inside.

Lost and Found by fantasyseal - very fun, very cute, again post-canon so spoilers for the end of princess tutu. i really liked the inclusion of some of the side characters, since they didn't really get to shine in the show, and at the end it felt like they'd been kind of dismissed ahaha. it's a short twoshot at a total of around 4k words, and while i had to suspend my disbelief on a bit of the characterization, the author was definitely right that we didn't get to spend enough time with some of the characters after their development, so the characterization issue is just a matter of my opinion.

that's all the fic i read but i HAVE been working my way through till we have faces by mr. narnia c.s. lewis himself. i found a copy of it when i was digging through our shelves for philosophy the other night and i read the back and it was like "this timeless tale of two princesses-- one beautiful and one unattractive-- and of the struggle between sacred and profane love is c.s. lewis's reworking of the classical myth of cupid and psyche" and i was like,

"LESBIANS???? LESBIAN RETELLING OF A CLASSIC ROMAN MYTH BY THE MAN WHO POPULARIZED CHRISTIAN FURRY STORYTELLING BY PUBLISHING NARNIA??????"

and the answer is no they are not lesbians they are sisters who are both heterosexual i think it doesn't matter, but it's not told from the pov of psyche, the one whom all the action in the original myth happens to, but rather, her sister, and at the point i'm at in the story i'm like, "girl if your sister psyche wants to fuck a monster just let her be a monster fucker."

it's been forever since i read narnia or anything by c.s. lewis, so it's fun to see his writing style again. it's a lot sassier than i remember, but there are also just a lot of good lines, like "love is too young to know what conscience is." like yeah... you get it mr. furry popularizer c.s. lewis.......

[rustybutterknife]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TELL ME ABOUT YOUR TRANS LYDIA HEADCANNONS PLEASE IM CRYINF

I’M FUCKIN HAPPY FLAPPING AND SHAKING IN EXCITEMENT HERE WE GO!!

Okay so I’ve said this before in a previous post but her full name is Lydia Jane Grace Deetz (middles names come from the lead singer of against me!)

She came out when she was about 12, to which Emily gladly welcomed her daughter with open arms. Charles was a bit hesitant at first, but soon followed after.

She went on E when she was about 14, and got her name legally changed a few days before her 15th birthday as an early birthday gift.

Emily very much bought her pride stuff before she passed. ( “A button for my button? Some pride for my pride and joy?” ;w; )

Her hair is her pride and joy, since she spent so long trying to grow it out. After her mom died. Chop. Small bob.

She’s not too open about it, but she has a trans flag under the lesbian flag pinned above her bed.

Her favorite outfit for Dysphoria days (trans people, you know the outfit) is these high waisted navy blue sailor shorts, fishnets, combat boots, and this black crop top hoodie with checkered sleeves.

On bad Dysphoria days, she’ll blast Against me!’s Transgender Dysphoria blues and True Trans Soul Rebel on repeat.

(Transgender Dysphoria Blues hits too close to home because bullies are some mean mother fuckers...)

( BJ once saw her singing along angrily because 1, it slaps. But 2, it feels good to get all the feels out. But the fact that she related to the song? That shit hurted. )

(If you wanna listen to the song, be aware that they say the F-slur multiple times.)

She loves hair clips because they make her feel more feminine

Also! Skirts and dresses? Fuck yeah! Euphoria!!

When she came out to the household, they all bought “I love my trans daughter” shirts. Except for BJ, he bought a “I love my trans niece” shirt. She cried.

They’re trans mlm/wlw solidarity!!

She has an old photo book of her pre-transition photos that she’ll look at on good Dysphoria days. (Euphoria? Dysphoria?)

Her favorite one is her at around 5 or 6, wearing a little purple tutu over her normal clothes, a puppy shirt and pale brown khaki shorts, with hello kitty sneakers and fairy wings with a heart shaped plastic dollar store wand in her hand. She has mini pigtails in her hair, and she has a big smile on her face.

Her and BJ will share pre-transition photos occasionally.

One time, Charles deadnamed her while drunk and BJ almost squared up with him.

It took Lydia and the Maitlands to convince him not to just sock him in the jaw for it.

BJ can and will square up with anyone for Lydia.

The girl loves makeup!! She’s great at it, and it makes her so euphoric!

She’ll sometimes practice on Hazel (her girlfriend! I’ve mentioned her in a couple of posts!), and they’re usually both covered in lipstick by the end of it :3c

She loves lipgloss because they make her lips look more plump, and “heheh, shiny...”

But yeah!! She’s trans!!

[therainroguefanfiction]

🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 034 [Jen versus Iida]

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Backward

Word Count: 2,040

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

〈“Take the hurt and the pain, I don’t need it! I wanna live, I wanna be the change. We can all be kings and queens, if we can just learn to believe.” Thousand Foot Krutch, “Fly on the Wall”〉

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

I made my way back to the seating area for my class, settling down behind Fumi. The match had already begun and Ochaco was going on the offensive first.

“Wow, look at her go! That’s a good start and all she has to do is touch him one time!” Zuku spoke up, his eyes shining with excitement.

“But it won’t be easy. You know Bakugo’s not gonna let her get too close to him.” Iida added.

“Which is why he won’t dodge. He’ll focus his energy on counter-attacking!”

She got in close to him and with a sweep of his hand, Bakugo launched an explosion at her. All of us were on the edge of our seats.

“Woah! She flew her jacket over as a decoy, what incredibly quick thinking!”

Ochaco appeared behind him, reaching her hand out but he whipped around, sending her flying backward with another explosion.

“Look at that reaction time!” Sero exclaimed.

“Seriously, that dude’s insane…” Sparky commented. “You can’t get the drop on him. And since Uraraka can’t use her quirk unless she touches him, his lightning-fast reflexes put her at a huge disadvantage.”

I wanted to make a smart remark to him but the sudden explosion in Ochaco’s face made me flinch, keeping my eyes on the match. I knew deep down that if he actually held back, it would be an insult to both of them, but still… it’s a painful match to watch. I can’t imagine someone so goddamn pure being on the battlefield, ya know? I kinda wish she didn’t want to be a hero.

Warmth enveloped my hand, breaking me from my thoughts. I hadn’t even realized how hard I was gripping Fumi’s shoulders until his hand rested over mine. I mumbled a quiet apology, loosening my grip but not pulling back.

Ochaco appeared behind him again to the same result as before. Over and over again, she kept getting blasted only to get back up and keep fighting. Why? What the fuck is driving her? Pushing her to give it her all? I just don’t get it, man. It’s obvious to everyone that she’s outmatched, and I hate to think that, but Bakugo is just in another league when it comes to combat. Even so… she keeps getting up. I know she wants to be a pro hero, but she doesn’t have to get her ass kicked by Bakugo to do it!

“Looks like she’s not resting between attacks despite being exploded. Poor girl…” Mic’s voice was low and devoid of his usual enthusiasm. What a fucking buzzkill. And then the audience started to buzz like angry bees.

“Hey, shouldn’t one of the teachers step in?”

“Yeah, this is too rough.”

“This is shameful! Listen, kid!” A man in the audience stood up, raising his voice as he pointed down at Bakugo. “You really want to be a hero? Then stop acting like a bully? If you’re so good, then just send her out of bounds!”

“Who the fuck -” I growled, standing up as my blood started to boil. “- does that dickbag think he is?”

“W-Winchester, calm down!” Sparky cried, swallowing hard.

“Stop toying with her and end this match!”

“Yeah, you heard the guy!”

“The crowd is now booing Bakugo!”

“Winchester!”

I rushed forward, jumping up onto the railing as my skin started to glow red. My narrowed eyes swept over the crowd before landing on the man that started this. “Shut the fuck up, all of you! All of you fuckers came here to watch these fucking kids beat the ever-living shit out of one another and now you want to boo and cry foul?!” My hands shook as small flames licked at my fingertips. “What fucking hypocrites! What right do you have to order that this match be stopped, huh?! Fucking Ochaco is fighting her fucking hardest to win, and so is Katsuki! You’re really going to rob her of her chance because you can’t handle it?! Stop being a pussy or fucking leave!”

“Winchester is now insulting the crowd! To be honest, I kind of agree with what the crowd is sayin – hey, woah! What the crap?!”

“Where is the man who started this uproar? Are you a pro?” Aizawa demanded angrily. “Because if you’re being serious, you can go home and hang up your cape! I’d suggest looking into a new career.”

I snarled at the man, waving my hand like I was shooing away a bug. “You heard ’em! Scurry off with your tail between your legs, you fuckin’ cunt.”

His eyes narrowed at me. “You rude little b -”

“Bakugo’s fierceness is an acknowledgment of his opponent’s strength. He knows she deserves to have made it this far, so he’s making sure he does whatever it takes to keep her at bay and come out on top.”

“I think it’s about time,” Ochaco said, grabbing everyone’s attention as she breathed heavily. “Thank you, Bakugo, for keeping your eyes focused on me!”

“What?”

Wait a minute… my eyes widened as my gaze snapped up. Ochaco, you little fucking minx! I didn’t notice it because I was so worried about her, but now everything makes sense. She kept attacking non-stop to distract Bakugo while she used her quirk to float up the debris he had made with his explosions.

With a cry, she brought her fingertips together. All at once, the debris started to fall from the sky, shooting toward Bakugo like angry missiles.

“A meteor shower!!”

“Now you notice…”

“She had a plan all along!” Zuku jumped up, gripping the railing.

Ochaco rushed at him, using the debris as a distraction. Bakugo held his wrist, the other palm facing toward the sky. He unleashed a powerful, large blast, the force nearly knocking me off the railing as it sent Ochaco flying backward. I huffed, kneeling down to grab the railing between my feet.

“Bakugo banks out a huge demonstration of power! He blasted apart Uraraka’s finishing move and remains untouched!”

No, he ain’t untouched. It’s really fucking subtle, but his hand is shaking. That blast took a lot of out him.

Ochaco shakily climbed to her feet and Bakugo rushed forward to attack, stopping short when she fell over, hitting the ground. Poor girl, she’s completely spent.

“Uraraka is down!!”

“It’s too much…” Iida breathed out.

“Yeah,” Zuku nodded worriedly. “She’s way past her limit.”

Ochaco started to crawl across the ground toward Bakugo, still not wanting to give up. Holy fucking Deadpool in a tutu, I never knew that girl had so much fucking drive within her. Midnight held her hand up to Bakugo and he relaxed his stance as she rested her hand on Ochaco’s back.

“Uraraka is K.O’d. Bakugo advances to the next round.”

“And that’s it for the second round! Ah, I was really pulling for her… Oh yeah, I guess Bakugo is moving on…”

I sweatdropped. Note to self: Kick the cockatiel next time I see him.

“You’re supposed to be unbiased, you know.”

“Let’s try to forget that depressing outcome!”

“Or not.”

“With that, the second round is complete! We’re taking a quick break and then we’re back with more matches!”

I hopped down from the railing and rushed off before anyone could stop me, heading toward the waiting room. Man, that was the most intense match, I hope Ochaco is okay. I bet she’s upset about losing, but she should feel proud. She did really fucking well against Katsuki. I rolled my neck as I stepped into the air-conditioned room. My match against Iida is next. He always annoys the piss of out me, so I surely don’t mind getting the chance to unleash some hell on him.

“Woohoo!! We’re finally about to learn who the winner is in the eleventh match – Kirishima or Tetsutetsu! Whoever prevails in this arm-wrestling match will advance to the third round! Let’s go!!”

I fell into the chair with a sigh, letting my head fall back. All this way and I can still hear that fucker as if he were standing here screaming in my damn ear. That’s one hell of a quirk, bro. I hope Kirishima wins his match. He’s so strong and full of spirit, but he lacks confidence in his abilities. I should really talk to him about that. Maybe I can take a piece of paper and write ‘You are strong, you are awesome, stop doubting yourself’ and smack him in the face with it. Why stop there? I need to do the same for Zuku.

“Kirishima earns his spot in the third round!”

Atta boy, Kirishima.

“Now we’ve got a full roster for the next round of the tournament! Let’s get the party started now, ya dig?!”

That’s my cue, ugh. I left the room, heading down the hallway.

“The first match of round three! He comes from an elite hero family, from the hero course, Tenya Iida! Versus! Her origins are completely unknown, also from the hero course, Jen Winchester!”

I sweatdropped as I stepped out into the sunlight. Elite versus unknown, huh? How fucking annoying. Iida’s eyes narrowed at me from across the arena, his voice low and full of distaste. “I don’t trust you, Winchester. Your attitude leaves much to be desired and you always act as if you know something we don’t, like you’re hiding something.”

I scoffed. “And? As if your holier than thou attitude is any better. Always prancing around like you’re better than everyone else, ordering people around like their beneath you, telling people how they should be acting. I’m gonna be honest, I’m really going to fucking enjoy knocking your ass down a few pegs, elite.”

“START!!”

My body temperature shot up as fire swirled across the ground in front of me. He took off running, his speed enough to dodge the onset of flames. I scowled, my eyes following his movement. There’s no point in trying to chase the fucker around, he’s too damn fast for me to catch. Instead, I’ll create an opening and let him come to me. Just as my flames were dying down behind me, he appeared in the air in front of me.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

“What incredible height on that jump! He easily cleared the flames surrounding her!”

“Recipro… burst!!” His leg connected with my forehead and I gritted my teeth, feeling my bones cracking from the force. Before I could recover, he landed and jumped again, slamming his leg against my stomach. The force sent me flying across the ring. I coughed loudly, wincing in pain. Fucking hell.

“Look at that speed! Winchester can’t react in time!”

Che. I grunted, slamming my palms against the ground as he rushed forward, but a wall of flames shot up between us, making him stumble backward. I coughed again as I pulled myself up. So he wants to end this quickly, huh? I wonder why that is? Doesn’t matter. If he wants to end is to quickly, who the fuck am I to deny him that?

Limit release!!

My shirt shattered as power rose from within me, rushing through my body.

“Oh no, it looks like Winchester is finally starting to get serious! I hope she doesn’t kill him…”

“She won’t.”

Thanks for believing in me, Dadzawa. I grinned, focusing my attention behind Iida. I appeared behind him just as he tried to jump over the flames again. Using his momentum against him, I slammed my flaming fist against his back, quickly grabbing his wrist before he could go flying. I turned my body once before throwing him toward the arena. His body slammed against the cement, rising up a few inches before falling back down. He grunted in pain, his eyes glassy.

“Learned that move from watching All Might at the USJ,” I grinned.

His teeth clenched and his hand shot up, snatching my wrist to pull me closer. He lifted both legs, slamming his feet against my stomach. The impact lifted me off the ground and knocked the wind from my lungs. Using what little bit of power he had left, he picked me up and tried to carry my body out of bounds, but flames erupted around me and he yelped, dropping me. I rolled, landing on my knees a foot away from him.

“Iida almost got Winchester out of bounds, but she saved herself at the last moment! How will this fight turn out?!”

I tasted metal on my tongue and spat out blood onto the concrete before wiping my hand with the back of my hand. “Is that all you got, prep? Sorry, but I ain’t that easy.”

His eyes narrowed and he made a move like he was going to rush me, but his foot only slip forward a bit, fists clenching at his sides.

“What’s wrong, bud? Run out of gas?” I smirked, holding my flaming hand up. “I hope you’re ready for this because it’s really gonna fucking hurt.” I flipped my hand over and the flames shot down into the cement before shooting up toward the sky. Like a huge wave of flame, it crashed into his body and forced him back out of bounds. My lips twitched up as it pinned him to the wall, the cement cracking behind him.

Midnight rushed up in front of me, giving me a sharp look as she held out her hand. I clicked my tongue and flipped my hand back over, the flames shooting back toward me as they died down until there were nothing but embers against my palm, floating away on the gentle breeze.

“Iida is out of bounds! Winchester advances to the next round!”

“Shooting into our hearts like a wave of fire, Winchester wins the first match of round three and advances to the semi-finals!!”

I stuffed my uninjured arm into my pocket and stepped down the stairs toward the hallway. As soon as the darkness surrounded me, I released my form, my shirt returning to me as pain started to overwhelm the adrenaline. I groaned. My arm fucking hurts. My stomach fucking hurts. I’m tired. I’m hungry. This is fucking torture.

Fucking bastard, I shouldn’t have held back. I admit, I underestimated him…

I released a breath as I turned the corner, grunting when I nearly ran into someone. I tried to walk around the kid, but he held his arms out, a haughty expression on his face. “What’s this? Is someone from 1-A actually injured? I thought all of you were too strong to be hurt and yet all of you keep getting injured. How shameful!”

I deadpanned. “Bro, I ain’t in the mood for your inferiority complex. Move the fuck out of my way before I shove a chimichanga up your ass.”

A bead of sweat rolled down his cheek and he swallowed hard, but that infuriating smirk didn’t falter. “That’s not a very heroic thing to say, is it! Looks like 1-A is training villains, not heroes. You, Bakugo and Todoroki aren’t fit to be heroes. Did you see how Bakugo treated that poor girl? And Todoroki went way too far against the tape boy. And there’s you. How shameful for you all!”

My eyes narrowed and I straightened my back. I’ve got a few inches on this brat, good. “You should really learn to keep your fuckin’ mouth shut, kid.”

He hummed, his smirk growing. “Everyone says class A is better simply because you all faced off against real villains, but we all know that your class did nothing in the attack! You only survived because of the teachers! Everyone saw how easily Shiozaki beat that electric freak! Such a loser, don’t you agree? And that poor gravity girl, who let her in the hero course? She’s not fit to be a -”

My fist slammed against his face. I felt the crunch and heard the crack before he cried out, falling to the ground and cradling his nose. I kneeled down beside him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt to bring his face closer to mine. “Now you listen here, you little fuck. I don’t know what your fucking problem is with my class and I honestly have no fucks to give you, but you better get this straight right now – Katsuki may be a total pain in the ass with the temperament of a deranged chihuahua, but he’s going to make a damn good hero one day! And yeah, Sparky can be a total dunce most of the time, but he’s still a better person than you could ever hope to be. Todoroki is a total edgelord with major daddy issues, but he’s fucking working on it, and he’ll be a damn good hero, too! Every single fucker in class 1-A – minus Mineta – is amazing in their own way and every one of them will be an amazing hero!”

I took a breath, clenching my fist tighter. “Yeah, they all have their issues and I’m convinced they are certifiably insane, but at least they don’t go around putting people down! At least they fucking try and don’t give up! Maybe if you fucking stopped belittling those better than you and actually focused on yourself, you can become half as good as those fucking brats are. Finally, don’t you ever put Ochaco’s name in your filthy ass mouth. You got a goddamn problem with class A? Then you got a fucking problem with me, kid, and I’m a fucking woman – I hold grudges for fucking decades!”

His eyes were wide and full of fear, blood leaking through his fingers.

“Holy crap…”

My eyes shot up and I cursed. Standing at the end of the hall was Sparky, Sero, Ryuu, Kendo, all looking at me with wide eyes. “Fuck my life…”

Kendo cleared her throat as she approached, taking the boy by the back of his collar. “I told you to stop messing with class A, Monoma, didn’t I? Now, look at what happened. Are you alright?”

Monoma stood up on his own, his voice nasally. “Ahahaha! I’m perfectly fine! As expected from a student of class 1-A, that punch was weak!”

Ryuu sweatdropped. “That bleeding nose of yours says something different…”

He simply humphed and walked away with Kendo following behind. Ryuu bit his lip, glancing at me. He looked like he wanted to say something but I refused to meet his eyes and he sighed, following after his classmates.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

▸ Forward

📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

[msjr0119]

Love, Fate, Destiny

Part 8- Lythikos

Riley Brooks is a waitress in a ‘Dive bar” in New York. One Saturday night, her past comes back to haunt her as some unfamiliar punters enter her bar on a bachelor party- one of them being someone who she was once close to.

Catch up on the series here

*CHARACTERS BELONG TO PIXELBERRY*

Tags- @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @drakexnadira

******

“I’m Bastien, Prince Liam’s and King Constantine’s royal guard. It’s finally nice to put a beautiful face to the name. You’re all Drake’s ever spoken about all these years. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Drake’s eyes widened at his father figure- pleading for him not to elaborate. First Maxwell, now Bast- for fuck sake, he muttered- hoping no one could hear him.

“Oh... nice to meet you too.”

Bastien hugged Riley tight, eyeing her up and down. He was delighted by her presence and had hoped that Drake would never let her go again. To be honest he was annoyed by Drake’s melancholy attitude for the last few years. Bastien had offered to visit New York with him on many occasions when he was off duty- to help him restore his love life. However, Drake due to his stubbornness refused assuming she would have moved on- possibly be married, have children and possibly will have forgotten all about his existence.

“I think it’s time we all head back... we all have an early start in the morning with the court travelling to Lythikos. Olivia wouldn’t be too thrilled if we are all late.”

Liam could foresee how awkward this conversation would turn- thankfully the others agreed. Taking a steady walk back- Drake held Riley back.

“I’ll walk you to your room. I’m so sorry for tonight...”

“Why are you sorry?” Riley questioned- she enjoyed the walk down memory lane demolishing her favourite dessert, she couldn’t understand why he would be apologising.

“Max talking about us getting engaged... Bast informing you that all I did was talk about you- I did. But it’s embarrassing. I could never get you out of my mind no matter how much I tried.”

Drake avoided Riley’s gaze not wanting to view her reaction, he spoke about her everyday. Kiara was throwing herself at him constantly. Liam and Maxwell had taken him out on the ‘pull’ many times but he refused to acknowledge any women. He was nothing without Riley.

“Likewise, I just wish you would have reached out earlier. Not leaving it so many years. I guess I’ll see you at Lythikos then. Night Drake. I love you.”

Riley pecked him on the cheek, holding him tightly. It killed her having to leave him every night. Due to the circumstances they couldn’t jeopardise anything for the sake of everyone involved.

“Wait! Why did you avoid the bit about being engaged?” Drake wondered. Did she ignore it because she never wanted to be married or because she may want it too in the future?

“Because Walker, that’s not you. You’re a grump. Not a sappy person- it took you seven years to buy me some flowers. I don’t think that you’re the marriage material. And I’m fine with that. I don’t know what the deal in Cordonia is regarding marriage- but in New York many people just live happily together. I mean look at Lo and Daniel- they aren’t engaged after all these years. Sorry I didn’t mean to mention them....”

“You don’t know what I want in life Riley, so please don’t try to think you do! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Drake stormed off into his room, slamming the door nearly taking it off its hinges. Feeling guilty that he hadn’t spoilt her in past, or showered her with gifts to prove how much he loved her. He was frustrated that she believed that he didn’t want to ever be married. Opening the drawer in his bedside table- he admired his grandmothers ring. The one he had told Maxwell he would have given to Riley. Looks like you will be here for eternity- the dust covering you, because my girl won’t ever want to wear you. I’m sorry Gran.

Closing the drawer gently, he laid back on his bed, placing his hands behind his head, sighing. Sitting up he poured himself a tumbler of whiskey- he noticed his phone light up.

Drake? I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. I don’t want us to argue. Please text me back. X

It’s fine!

Clearly it’s not fine.. please don’t blank me. If I said something wrong tell me and I’ll fix it. Please. I love you X

Brooks, it’s fine. Goodnight

No kisses. No love you. What am I even doing here?

******

Drake woke up the following morning- he hated Olivia and he hated Lythikos. He didn’t read the last text Riley had sent him- he decided to drink himself into oblivion instead and was now regretting how he acted. Shooting out of bed he headed straight to Riley’s room, not giving a shit at who saw him.

“Max? Where is she?” Drake demanded, if anyone knew where she would be it would be the person who was sponsoring her in this sham.

“I... I don’t know? All her things have gone.”

Drake’s heart sunk- thinking the last time they spoke it was a petty argument. The two men decided to scrutinise the palace searching for her.

******

Riley woke up in Hana’s bed after a spontaneous sleepover. She was grateful that Hana had let her stay. After explaining what had happened, Hana tried to comfort her friend. Hana had an inkling deep down that Drake wanted to propose and that Maxwell was testing the water. She obviously didn’t inform Riley of her suspicions with the state that she was in, when she knocked on the door in the early hours.

“Do you need me to let the Beaumont’s know where you are? You can come with me if you want- but I assume Max will want you to travel with him seen as though Bertrand isn’t going?”

“I’ll just come with you Hana, if you don’t mind. I’ll let Max know.”

Riley quickly text Maxwell, before beginning to pack for their short break to the coldest Duchy in the country.

Thank god you’re okay Blossom. 😘 Okay, we will meet you there. You ladies stay safe. Erm, Drake came to your room looking for you. What shall I say? 🤔 X

Nothing. He ignored my last text. He’s a stubborn mother fucker 😡..excuse my language. If he wants to talk he can talk to me later. 😞X

Okay, Little blossom. See you there- you’ll love it 🥶❄️ x

*******

Maxwell had informed Drake that Riley was safe and that she had just stayed with Hana. Drake slowly exhaled, he was now relieved that she hadn’t left them. His heartbeat slowly returned back to normal. Max felt guilty that he was the tip of the iceberg that had possibly caused this argument between the two lovers. Providing a soft smile to Drake, he pat him on shoulder- she would never leave us- leave you Drake. Travel with me to Olivia’s.

The men arrived at Lythikos, Maxwell was immediately scrutinising the area hoping to find his sponsor. Drake kept his head down- feeling like he had fucked up his chances with Riley again.

“Drake there she is. Wow! Look at Hana, she’s amazing!”

Drake looked towards the ice rink- of course Hana looked amazing, pirouetting on the ice gracefully. She is a very talented noble- even if she denied it. Then his gaze fixated on Riley, his beautiful Riley. Hana was attempting to teach her some tricks on the ice- Drake laughed at how terrible Riley was. He detested ice skating - but natural instinct told him to join them. Before he put one foot in front of the other- he noticed Liam catch Riley in his arms. Jealously shot through his heart, he needed to talk to her alone - he also knew she needed to keep up the facade.

“Max I’m going to head to the slopes, I’ll see you all up there when you hang your tutus up.” Drake said sarcastically, hoping Maxwell would assume that he was just ready to complete in ‘manly’ activities instead. In reality he was pining for Riley.

“Okay buddy.”

******

Liam noticed Riley stumble, and shot into action saving her as if he was superman. Helping her regain her balance, he stood frozen just admiring her beauty.

“I’m sorry Liam! I’m not as good as Hana, I’m such a klutz. Thank you for helping me.”

“You’re welcome Lady Riley. Are you okay?”

“Yes! Why wouldn’t I be?” Riley said defensively assuming he would know about her domestic with Drake.

“I was just wondering that’s all. Have you seen Drake? I haven’t seen him yet.”

“NO! I mean, no I haven’t.” Riley snapped before concealing her anger. Sighing, she knew that Liam would be able to read her like an open book.

“Is everything okay between you two?”

Liam placed his finger under her chin, tilting it upwards- when their baby blues met he could tell by her expression that everything wasn’t as it seemed. After all, he had been brought up to read people’s expressions and body language. Cupping her cheek, she brushed him off immediately. Before gazing to the ice below them, her teeth biting her lower lip. Liam’s hands drifted on to her hips- he knew he was with Olivia but there was something about Riley that he couldn’t remove from his mind.

“Yes... I mean no... I don’t know....It’s fine.”

“What’s happened?”

Liam was curious and pulled her closer to his broad chest- unexpectedly his hands rubbed her back before holding her protectively- wanting to do more. She sunk into his warmth embrace appreciating that he caught her preventing her making a laughing stock out of herself, but now he was there to comfort her- to talk to her as a friend.

“I don’t really know. When we returned to the palace last night. He apologised for what had happened... then he asked why I didn’t mention about Maxwell’s question about getting engaged. I said to him that he wasn’t marriage material and that people are happy just being together. Then he told me to stop assuming what he wanted in life and stormed off. I text him and he just kept saying everything was fine... but it isn’t- he didn’t put any kisses at the end of the text like he usually does. He didn’t even say love you back... I’m sorry for the rant.”

“Sounds about right for Drake. Don’t worry about it. He would be a fool to let you go again. You’re amazing you know that? You are beautiful.”

Liam caressed her cheek, fixating his gaze on her. She is beautiful, what does she see in Drake? - he thought. This time she didn’t brush him away- he gently wiped her tears away that were falling slowly down her cheeks. For the first time she looked directly into his eyes, their breaths both becoming heavier. He knew she had no feelings towards him but he couldn’t resist - he couldn’t fight against his thoughts that were going through him. Moving closer to her, their foreheads were close to touching. He was now inches away from brushing her cherry buds. She was frozen, not knowing what to do or what was happening. Politely she removed his hands, she was with Drake. No matter how much her heart was fluttering at this moment in time.

“I should go... I need to talk to Maxwell. Thank you again for helping me.”

“Lady Riley? No need to thank me. And there are other options other than Drake.”

Riley ignored his smirk and wink, she knew exactly what he meant. The option she wanted was Drake Walker. If she couldn’t have that option- she would return immediately back to New York. Riley found Maxwell and apologised for her midnight flit. Gently smiling at her, he was just relieved that she was safe. Shortly after informing her that they were all heading up the slopes. When Riley and Maxwell eventually reached the top she couldn’t believe how breathtaking the view was.

“Hey, beautiful.”

Riley ignored Drake, she wasn’t a pushover. She wanted to talk the previous night- he chose not to. So it was her turn to be stubborn - turning her head she spoke to Maxwell instead.

“Fancy a race Max?”

“Sure thing...” Maxwell said hesitantly after noticing the awkward tension between Drake and Riley.

“Be careful Beaumont. She’s a cheater when it comes to races. She has cunning techniques...”

“I do not!” Riley turned towards Drake- folding her arms, scowling at him as if looks could kill. He was just smirking at her. She loved him but at times he irritated her so much that she wanted to wipe that smirk off his face.

“At least you responded to me. I’m sorry for last night. I’m a jerk. As always. I don’t deserve you. You wasn’t in the wrong for anything. It was all me. I let my emotions get to me.”

“Why? I don’t understand why a good night turned so sour?”

“When Max brought up the engagement thing... I ... I love you ... and I want....”

Before Drake could finish Maxwell pushed Riley down the slopes with him closely following. Drake shook his head in frustration, and quickly caught up to them whizzing straight past Liam and Olivia, spraying them with snow. Drake noticed that Riley and Maxwell were heading straight towards a large branch, attempting to get their attention there was no response. Riley noticed the branch too late- both her and Maxwell went flying over it somersaulting in sync. Drake caught up, to the two of them and immediately removed his skis.

“Ri are you hurt? Max?”

“I’m unscathed buddy. I’m like an ally cat- 9 lives and that...”

“I’m fine.” She said, her eyebrows furrowed whilst rubbing her left hand that was now in excruciating pain.

“You’re not fine. You’re hurt. Let me carry you into the chalet.”

“Touché Drake. Just like everything was fine with you last night but it wasn’t! I’m fine. Just don’t fuss over me. Please.”

“I’m going to fuss over you. You’re my girl, I love you. Please just let me carry you over to the chalet and get some ice for your hand.”

Riley huffed, as she knew she was fighting a losing battle. Drake effortlessly picked Riley up, cradling her. Hurrying to the chalet- he laid her gently on the couch, and immediately attended to her injury.

******

After seeing to Riley’s hand he lifted it up to his lips, kissing it ever so gently- hoping his touch would take away the pain. As he placed her hand back down, thoughts wondered what his grandmothers ring would look like on her finger. Sitting next to her he wrapped his strong arm around her shoulder pulling her into his warm embrace, gently rubbing her injured hand. She snuggled into his chest, holding on tightly to his denim jacket- hearing his heart beat ten to the dozen. Her stomach and heart fluttered as they just held each other- content in each other’s presence. His touch made her forget the argument, forget the pain after the fall and forget about how close Liam was to kissing her- his touch made the room feel warmer along with the fire that was burning.

“Thank you.” Riley broke the silence.

“What for?”

“For helping me, for just being you. I love you Drake.”

“I love you too. So much. Just slap me next time I behave like I did last night. Fancy sneaking out? There’s something I want to show you.” Mischief was in his eyes, his infamous smirk had returned.

“But what about Liv? She will kill us.” Drake saw fear in her eyes and laughed it off. Surely she wasn’t scared of Olivia. If she was Drake was by her side- her protector.

“Fuck her. I don’t like her. The feelings mutual.” Drake shrugged his shoulders, not really caring what Olivia thought- she would most likely be shacked up with Liam anyway.

******

Drake led her outside holding her protectively as they trudged through the snow. Eventually they arrived at the spot, in the middle of nowhere- he gestured her to lay on the floor next to him. Riley was hesitating at first - the floor was damp, cold and covered in snow- did he want her to get pneumonia? Putting his arm around her, that intoxicating touch made her less tense. She melted into him. The warmth from his body- made the cold night air non existent.

“M’lady, look upwards.”

Riley followed his instructions. As she looked up she saw the second breathtaking view that Lythikos offered, her jaw was agape from the shock at how something so simple could take her breath away. The stars scattered with shooting stars lighting up the sky.

“Drake, this is gorgeous!”

“Not as gorgeous as you. I used to stargaze with Savannah all the time when we was younger.”

“Have you heard from her yet?”

Riley knew briefly about Savannah, Drake had told her a story about how his little sister disappeared without letting anyone know- he never elaborated on the true events. Instead he just insisted that one day he would find her even if he died trying. Even though Riley felt sorry for Drake at the time, she couldn’t now as he did exactly the same to her.

“No. I let her down. I let you down. I feel useless that I couldn’t look after the two people who mean the most to me.”

“You didn’t let me down. I understand- but I thought we had a future together and you just left. If you had of reached out and told me the truth I’d have understood back then. We could have kept in touch.”

“I am so sorry. I’ve regretted my decision all these years. Hence why I spoke about you to Bastien and Liam all the time. I was hurt and I know you would have been too. On the slopes before... I wanted to confess something before Maxwell pushed you...”

Riley looked confused. Wondering what he needed to ‘confess’. Her mind was working overtime. Panicked, not knowing what it was. Did he see her and Liam on the ice rink? A lump formed in her throat. Her heartbeat increased. Impatiently waiting for Drake to continue she held his hand tight - hoping she was overthinking the situation.

“I... when we came to New York for Liam’s bachelor party. We took Liam to the Statue of Liberty. It was something that he has always wanted to do- I tried to convince him to do something else- but obviously he’s a Prince and it was his escape from all of this. I wasn’t myself- that place was the last time I saw you. Maxwell asked me what was on my mind... I.. I told him about you. I told him that you was the one for me- that I imagined having a future with you... that I wanted to give you my grandmothers engagement ring...”

Riley now realised the reasoning behind Maxwell’s ‘random’ question, and the reasoning behind Drake’s outburst last night. Feeling guilty about how she said he wasn’t marriage material, she didn’t know how to react. It all now made sense.

“Drake...”

“It’s fine Riley. I know where we stand. I’m just happy to have you in my life.”

“You... you want to marry me?” Reality had finally sunk in. This man adored her. He loved her. And she never realised. Maybe she should have made more effort to contact him all those years ago- rather than just blame him.

Drake stood up, helping Riley to stand too. Cupping her cheeks he stared into her baby blues. He needed to knock his strong walls down, pretend they didn’t exist and tell her exactly how he felt about her.

“Riley Brooks, when we was together I felt complete. I felt loved. I know we wasn’t together a long time- it felt right and things are worth the wait. The first kiss. The first time we slept together. Every moment was precious. It felt like we had been together for an eternity. I want a future with you. I never moved on from you. I couldn’t. I love you, and it’ll always be you. I do want to marry you. I want children with you. Call me crazy.... But I know what I want and I want you.”

[n1ghtm3ds]

We also used to play a game where we would go to where the plow piled all the snow up an Tutu would just pick us up and throw us into the pile.  Im almost 6 feet tall this fucker could LAUNCH me across the back parking lot of The Manor practically from the back steps and id hit the top of the snow pile and then one day this kid who was too big to be thrown (like TuTus size but not even close to as strong) jumped into the pile and there was a stick and it went into his nostril and tore it open and we couldn’t play “snow pile” anymore

[dazzlingfantasiesblogs]

IT All Started With Ice Cream

Happy Lowman x Plus Size Reader

Warning/Triggers: Feeling a little insecure. 

Requested by the beautiful: @a-kay4711

Pics are not mine. 

When he seen her he froze. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. He watched as she played with the little girl that looked just like her. “Mommy… Ice cream?” she looked at her taking a deep breath. The ice cream she pointed at was expensive and at the moment she needed to get the necessities. “Not today baby.. Mommy is on a budget.. Soon my love I will buy you the world. Even if it is just us.” Happy was surprised when the kid didn’t cry, instead hugged her mom, knowing she was upset. The little girl wrapped her fingers around her moms pointer finger as they walked down the aisle. “Happy you coming?” Tig called from the other aisle. “I will meet you guys back at TM..” Tig looked down the aisle seeing the woman and little girl. “She is beautiful.. Nice and curvey. MM..” Happy punched his brother in the shoulder, walking to grab something down the aisle.

“Hunny get in your car seat, so mom can pack in the groceries.” Opening the door for the little girl, you helped her buckle in. Shutting the door after you opened the truck to your Durango. “Hmm.. mam..” turning your head you seen a tall man, wearing a Kutte. You knew who SAMCRO was, everyone in Charming did. You had been thankful to them, with donations they helped you raise for the school you helped at. “Hello!” you smiled to him gently. Happy took a deep breath, he was unsure how to say this without being an asshole that was kind of stalking the conversation. “I… umm…” he rubbed his right hand over his bald head. “You umm?..” You chuckled a bit smiling to him. “I.. I got this for the little one.. I noticed she liked it in the store..” He handed you a grocery bag. Opening it up you seen the ice cream your daughter had wanted. Happy was prepared for rejection, calling him a name maybe, thinking he could possibly have over stepped a boundary. “Oh my gosh.. Thank you..” He seen slight tears spring to your eyes. Grabbing him, you hugged him tightly. You felt him freeze slightly and then hug you back. Happy could smell your perfume, you smelt some where between heaven and heaven. “What is your name?” “Happy.” He held out his hand. “Y/N.” you shook his hand. “This is Kayleigh. Kayleigh hunny,  Happy bought you your favorite ice cream.” He nodded watching as the toddler turned around a bit smiling to him. “Thank you sir!” She smiled, giggling and slightly kicking her feet at the thought of ice cream. “Umm… can.. I.. ask you on a date… if..umm… your single?” you thought about how nervous he was. He looked like the man who would constantly get chicks. “Me..?” you pointed to yourself looking around. “Yeah… you are so gorgeous…” “Your joking..? This is not a sick joke right..” you felt confused. You thought you where pretty, but this man was apart of Samcro. You often got your SUV taken care at TM. Always seeing the smaller girls walking around. You had nothing against them, it just was not you. “Not at all. I understand if you don’t..” “Sure..!” you took out your phone, Happy took out his aswell. “Here..” Grabbing the phone you input your number, Happy doing the same. “Tomorrow night? Seven?” He smiled asking. “Wonderful!”

After laying Kayleigh to bed for the night, you hurd your phone go off.

Happy: “Hey Y/N. Still on for tomorrow?” J

You: “Sure thing Happy! I am excited!”

Happy: “Me too. Sleep well beautiful!”

You: “You too handsome! Here is the address for tomorrow.”

{Current Location Icon}

Smiling you finished doing the dishes, walking to your bed room to get ready for bed. Falling asleep.

After eight hours of work, you went home to see Lyla waiting to watch Kayleigh. “Hey baby, how was daycare? Thanks for picking her up Lyla!” “Mommy we painted animals..” you looked at the picture with a  bunch of blue and yellow blobs all over. “Wow! Lets put it on the fridge!” Kayleigh ran into the house, grabbing a Nemo magnet, putting it on the fridge next too another hundred magnets. “Mommy needs to get ready for a date.” Kayleigh nodded going to the couch. “Mommy, Cinderella!!!” laughing you put on her favorite movie.

Hearing the doorbell you walked to the door. Looking through the peephole you seen Happy standing their with a bunch of flowers. Opening the door you smiled. “Hey Happy!” opening the door he looked you up and down taking a deep breath. “Fuck… your beautiful.” He looked you over seeing the clothes fit your beautiful curves to a T. He could not help but imagine all sexual scenarios that could carry out. “Happy!!!!!” Kayleigh ran around the corner seeing him at the door. “Mommy flowers!!” you smiled as Happy handed them to you. You knelt down showing them to her. “Mm.. smell good!” she looked to Happy, grabbing his finger, pulling him in to follow her. “Sorry..” you whispered. “All good!” He smiled a bit as the girl brought him to the couch to watch Cinderella. Lyla appeared around the corner. “That Son is unlike any of the others, very complex.” She peered over the wall. “Well thanks for telling me about him Lyla. Also.. thanks for being my best friend.” “Single mommas stick together!” “You have Opie..” you laughed a bit. “You have Happy..” She smirked. Walking back to the living room you seen Happy singing with the Godmother. “Bbbity bobbity boo!” him and Kayleigh singing along as she spun around holding his finger. He laughed watching her. She decided to wear a pink tutu, blue leggings and a pink shirt and who where you to stop her fashion sense? She was two! “Happy you ready?” he looked too you nodding. “Bye Kayleigh.” “Aww… no leave Happy..” you seen your daughter sad as he stood up. “Hopefully your mom likes me enough to come back.” Chuckling at that he walked to you, Kayleigh hot on his heels. “Mommy.. like Happy!”

The first date was amazing and so was the twenty after that. He found out your ex was a douchbag, wanting to track him and kick his ass. You found out he did not the best stuff for the club, still caring about him anyways. Tonight was the night you met the club. You stared in the mirror, taking off another outfit throwing it against the mirror. “UGH!” you groaned. You wanted to look perfect meeting his family. “What’s wrong girl?” Lyla walked, sitting on the bed holding Kayleigh as they both looked at you. “I can not find anything to go in.. all those girls always looking at him when I go to get the car serviced.. ugh..” you sighed. This was not like you. Usually you would flick a girl off, but today was not one of your best days.” “Sit down, let me do your makeup first. I promise, no porn star makeup!” you laughed a bit. “I have never judged you for what you do! Hell I am trying to get by!”

Arriving at the club house, you called Happy to meet you outside. He had recently got out of church and was not able to pick you up. Getting out of the SUV you felt your nerves getting the hold over you. You flattened your outfit down. You seen the door open and close. Happy walked out in a black t-shirt, jeans and his kutte. Looking as mouth watering as ever. He flicked his cig out striding to you. “Fuck baby..” He held your hand having you twirl for him. “I am going to have to kill a few fuckers today..” He mumbled, slapping your ass gently, kissing your cheek. His hand held securely around your waist. You molded into him as you both walked into the smoke covered club. He led you over to a group of guys. One whom you met because of Lyla. Opie bent down kissing your cheek. “Fuck Happy.. she is a dime!” you looked over at the black, curly haired man. “Welcome lass.” You looked to a man with scars that adorned his face. He was very handsome, giving you a gentle smile. “Thank you!” “Hello beautiful!” a blonde man stood up from the stool. You  read his kutte. ‘President’. He grabbed your hand kissing the top of it. “Watch it charming.” You seen a brown headed girl smile at you. “Hi, I am Tara.” She held her hand out to shake yours. “Hello, I am Y/N.” She nodded smiling. “Whoa! Who is that!” a mohawked man came in. he smiled a huge smile at you. “Juice!” he held his hand quickly. “Y/N.” Happy pressed you closer to him, eyeing his brothers. “Whoa, calm down killer!” Tig slapped his shoulder. Happy froze at the nickname. Lyla had already told you the truth about what he does. You laughed a bit. He bent down kissing your lips. “We are going to get some drinks.” Happy pulled you with him. “Did you tell them I was curvy and they wanted to make me feel better?” He laughed nodding no. “No, I told them you are mouth watering and they better keep their fucking dicks in there pants!” You smiled taking a sip of the drink Happy got you. Walking to the pool tables you sat next to Tara. Both of you chatting. Agreeing to go shopping with you and Lyla. You told her about you daughter and Kayleigh. She was shocked at how good Happy was with her. You told her about the first date and walking to find him singing and twirling her. You at first thought it was just to get you and in bed that he was being nice. Then you learned he loved kids. You told her he often talked about Abel and Thomas.

After a few drinks you where dancing with Happy. His hand on your hips, kissing your neck as you grounded into him. “Gotta use the rest room.” You looked at him. “You can use mine in my dorm.” You nodded following his instructions. You seen a girl pass you. “Why you..?” She looked you up and down snarling. “Because, I am a classy woman. I don’t need to wear a bra and panties to get mine.” You smirked walking into his dorm.

Drying your hands you walked back out. Happy sat on the bed waiting for you. “Man that croweater could not shut up about you after you ignored her bullshit.” You laughed a bit sitting in his lap. “I have nothing against women who wear certain clothes.. but no reason to be a bitch..”

Two years later.

“Girls, I am home!” You walked around the corner to see Happy walk in kicking his boots off. “Dad!” Kayleigh ran to him, hugging him. He kissed the top of her head. She pulled him to her room. Stopping to kiss your lips deeply. “I love you mami!” you smiled to him. “I love you too little man.” He put his hand on your stomach winking at you. He continued to follow Kayleigh to her room. “Mom..” you looked down to see Kayleigh holding her favorite bear. “There is something on it..” you see the small arm of the bear having a ring around it. Happy walked in looking at you with a smile. “You said you didn’t want a huge engagement when I brought I up.” He read your face as disappointment. You looked at him surprised. “Marry me?” “Your not doing this because I am pregnant right and feel stuck and no other way out?” He laughed a bit, always testing his reasons. “No. Because I love you.. I wanna grow old with you. I want to see our kids grow old.” He smiled kissing you deeply as you nodded yes. “YAY! I can’t wait to tell Grandma Gemma!” You laughed watching as your daughter danced around the kitchen, Happy grabbed the ring from the bear sliding it on your finger.

It was hard in the beginning but you where so glad you daughter wanted that ice cream that one day. Happy was so hard against other people, but loved you more than words. His thick beauty. Your life was full before with just you and your daughter, friends and family. However, Happy made you feel so much more happiness than ever before.

[happylittleroleplays]

Sentence Starters: Texts With My Best Friends Pt. 2

“I read the whole damn thing and I cant stop laughing. Every time I think i’ve pulled it together, there’s something else.”

“If all else fails wear a scarf.”

“I’m meeting my mom in an hour and I have choke marks around my neck. Im gonna need you to tell me how to fix this.”

“Remember that time we showered together? Not to be weird but like...I just remember that you had great tits.”

“I WILL THROW HER INTO THE SUN FOR BEING MEAN TO YOU”

“You deserve peace of mind more than he deserves his ego.”

“I literally can’t wait to tell your child someday about the time I bubble wrapped your head and punched you.”

“These candies are really good but my mom says I have to stop eating them or they’ll give me the shits and I have a two hour car ride coming up.”

“Dan Scott is basically our president so I mean, yeah, I’m kinda depressed but aren’t we all?”

“I’m just a girl. Sitting, fully dressed in her bathtub. Staring out her window and spying on the neighbors.”

“I called the cops cuz these fuckers are going a ‘boom boom’ and I cant tell if theyre having a party or shooting each other.”

“Fuck you’re hot. I wish we were gay because it would be so on.”

“You’re lipstick makes it look like you went down on Papa Smurf. Sorry boo, not digging it.”

“Well I wrote a slam poem and im proud of it but I might barf on stage so there is that.”

“Drop everything I need to go pick up a kitten i found on craigslist.”

“I swear i replied to this but honestly maybe I’ve finally gone crazy.”

“Oh wait so....you don’t want me to tell your boyfriend of three weeks that you tried on wedding dresses like a crazy woman today?”

“If you forget ranch for my nuggets then our friendship is over.”

“I’m not taking your money, get the hell out of here with that nonsense.”

“Uhm...Did you just threaten her or promise her your friendship? Because it sounded like both and tbh I’m a little afraid of you right now.”

“I drank my weight in tequila and told him that I was still in love with my ex and he said ‘yeah duh, im in love with your ex too’ so like.....can i assume its okay to bring up a threesome now?”

“You’re mad at me because I posted your nudes online in your dream?”

“I’m coming over so please make sure everyone is wearing pants this time.”

“Am I hamster serial killer?”

“When you say that she had a dead cat in her car....im going to need more explanation about that.”

“Wow your dog sings better than you. What a life.”

“I had ice cream but I didnt want to share so I said it was potato salad. God, no wonder kids hate me.”

“Get your free shit and then kick that bitch to the cuuuuuuuurb”

“I am not qualified to be a parent thank god.”

“Infants need specific water now??”

“I’m a grown up wearing a tutu making smores and drinking Vodka. What is my life?”

“She just screamed penis so loud everyone heard her and I am mortified.”

“I’m not sure when I started liking anal sex but my bosses sure seem to like fucking me in the ass.”

“Alright so its a new game of how many times can you tell me not to get back together with him, just for me to not listen, before you start punching me?”