#we're gonna ignore them after that just fyi

[jayswritings13]

Multi-fandom: Hello Nurse

Summary: After they get injured, you help clean them up.

Included: Robby Keene (Cobra Kai), Danny Fenton (Danny Phantom), Santana Lopez (Glee), and Moana (Disney), April O'Neil (TMNT), Moxxie and Millie (Helluva Boss)

💗Masterlist | WIP Page

Robby Keene (Cobra Kai)

"This is gonna sting."

"Do it." You nodded, quickly placing the alcohol soaked rag on Robby's cheek, hesitating when he winced in pain.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" Robby tried to grin, but even that couldn't hide the pain in his eyes. "You didn't do this."

"I know, but still," You shrugged, "I don't like seeing you like this."

Silence.

"While we're on that subject, who di-"

"It was no one important." He said. "I was training with Mr. LaRusso and Sam."

"Okay," you said, "must've been one tough training for the great Robby to get injured."

"I don't know about 'great'."

"I do." You said, placing a bandaid over the cut on his cheek, "so keep the rough shit for the mat and not training."

Santana Lopez (Glee)

"I told you," Santana rolled her eyes, "I'm fine."

"I'll believe that when you stop bleeding, San." You spat back, pressing the damp towel to her forehead.

"Oh, please," Santana scoffed, "You should see the other guy."

"Stay still. You're dripping all over the floor."

"Good, then maybe that little gremlin will face some consequences."

"What happened?"

"Just a little rumor that needed to be squashed and a huge ego that got brought to size." She shrugged, though you caught the small smirk edging the corner of her lips. "Just the regular stuff."

"And that led to you bleeding."

"I was getting there," Santana said, "Anyway, she didn't take it well and went at me." She paused, grinning, "But, you know me...."

"I do." You laughed, slipping your hand into hers, "I know you pretty well."

Danny Fenton (Danny Phantom)

"Just because you're half ghost, doesn't make you invincible, Danny!"

"Ow!" He grimaced as you tightened your grip on his arm. "Some nurse you are." He grumbled.

"I mean, what the fuck?!" You continued, ignoring his comment and wrapping more gauze around his arm. "Were you trying to get yourself killed? I know that Vlad is your uncle and all-"

"That doesn't mean anything. Things just went too far."

"You got too cocky," You paused, dropping your grip on his arm, "is what I think you meant to say."

"I'm okay, FYI."

"This time, Danny!" You sighed, "This time you are." You dropped his arm, sitting down next to him. "What about next time? Or the time after that?"

"I've gotten myself out of things like these before and I continously will," Danny said, "Or, well, as long as I have you by my side, I will."

"That was so cheesy."

"But, it worked, didn't it?"

"Shut up," you laughed, "and just be more careful."

Moana (Disney)

"Please don't tell my dad," Moana muttered against your shoulder as you helped her over to the sand, helping her sit down.

"Please, right now that's the least of my worries," You said, kneeling in front of her red and swollen ankle. "How do you think that he's not gonna notice this?"

"It's not that noticeable."

"Really?" You scoffed, "You can barely walk on it, Moana. I'm sure that if he doesn't notice, you're mom will."

"Just..." Moana sighed, "Please don't tell him. Please." She gripped your hand, taking your attention off of her ankle. "I don't need another lecture from him."

"You hurt your ankle walking through the village with me this morning."

"What?"

"You're gonna need a cover." You said, "He means well, but I know what you mean."

"Thank you." Moana winced, as you wrapped her ankle.

"Just be careful out there. For me please."

"Of course." Moana smiled, "Now, help me up."

April O'Neil (TMNT)

"It's just a scratch."

"Just a scratch. You're bleeding on my couch, April." You said, handing April a tissue, while you pulled the first aid kit closer to you.

"I'm fine." April said, holding the tissue to her cheek. "It barely gazed me."

"It- Grazed?" You shuttered, shocked. "Were you in the alley fighting with Jones?"

"It's called training."

"I call bullshit." Grabbing gaze and some tape out of the kit, "You know better than to do that shit with Casey. How the hell do you think he got that fucking gap?!"

"Whatever, I totally kicked his ass this time."

"What'd you do? Widen that gap, April?" You laughed.

"Maybe," April winced as you placed an alcohol soaked cloth on her cheek. "Ow! You don't have to press so hard?"

"You don't have to get hurt this hard." You countered, smirking. "Maybe, I should go teach Casey a god damn lesson."

"Too late." April grinned, wincing in pain.

Moxxie & Millie (Helluva Boss)

"Wow, I thought that you said that the hit was 'no big deal'...?"

"It wasn't."

"Bullshit. Why are you both bandaged up?!"

"Well, we- I mean, I sort of-"

"It's not a big deal," Millie shrugged, "We're fine, (Y/N)."

"What if you weren't?!" You exclaimed, "What if you two were seriously fucking hurt and didn't come back?"

"(Y/N)...."

"No, I know what you're gonna say. You're gonna tell me to have more faith and that you too are a team, handling it together." You sighed, "But, that doesn't mean that I can't worry about you two. I mean, you guys literally kill people for a living and seem to have a target on your back from others."

"Not entirely our fault." Millie said, as Moxxie nodded.

"Yeah. Who knew that Blitz had so many people who hated him?" Moxxie said. "And I mean like a shit ton of peo-"

"What I think Moxxie is trying to say is," Millie interrupted, "We'll try to be careful for you."

"Thanks," You smiled, "Now, get over here. Whoever wrapped your wounds did a fucking terrible job." You laughed.

"Hey! It's hard to do it one arm!"

[liauditore]

Pssst if you’re still doing the shipping bingo, how would team rancher/solidaritek fill your bingo board?

OFC. RANCHERSSS ALWAYS AND FOREVER 😭😭

ok but.. real talk i think ranchers is like. my number two "I actually ship this no strings or footnotes attached" ship right after ethubs.

I am usually not one to be moved by ships that are just "they are fun and healthy together and love eachother" but oh GOD the ranchers. See I think the thing is they just.. make sense for eachother even if you don't expect it until the point they realise they're soulmates.

Jimmy's situation has been talked about to hell and back at this point but Tango is also very out of his element in the life series. He says himself that pvp is not his specialty and he doesn't have the time or resources to make his skill set shine. So he ends up either somewhat ignored or outcasted for most of the games. (<-- fyi fun fact this is where the whole 'mech pilot tango' idea came from lol. i feel like he'd have a dva-style mech outside of the life series)

In particular i LOVE his relationship with team BEST and I NEED desperately to talk abt it more. the way he's constantly talked over by his own teammates, intimidated, asked to sacrifice his own lives for their sake, "tango's Easy", etc. etc.

‘Cause inside, nothing’s fine It should be clear to prying eyes But I won’t let the feelings See the light So tell me, why should I even try? I’m frozen away in time

(Koala, Will Stetson)

They both have this habit of hiding their own insecurities behind a facade of boisterousness, but no matter how much either of them puff out their chests and raise their voices, their message of "please take me seriously" never seems to get through.

The Ranchers are just.. two losers against the world. and they inspire confidence within the other that they can't find in themselves. and yes the world forces them apart but you can Feel that influence they've had on one another in the background.

Guess I went and caved I wonder, is there another way? Because I want to believe That one day I’ll be okay So now, I’ll give it another try I can finally see with a clearer mind Even if the bumps in the road Might try to stop me, Still it’ll be alright Keeping it inside Isn’t clearing up the sky So you tighten your hand in mine Following the light like a cute Koala Laughing in stride

Plus I, uh... Unhinged but I have this thing with the life smp where there's this running theme throughout the story about how it doesn't really matter who wins or who dies first.

Because for every epic battle and every tear-jerking death there was fun and laughter and stupid, trivial drama before and in between and those little moments may not be as memorable or written down in history but they're what makes the series enjoyable. Yes, we're all gonna die, but isn't it cool that we laughed with eachother and made dumb jokes and adopted a frog and said "I love you" on the way there?

j-just like real life. life smp. evangelion moment im sorry

Though both of us will die one day Though this life is useless anyway When you’re here by my side, you make me feel like it’ll be okay And yet we laughed despite it all At this life which has no meaning at all Two lonely and broken souls leaning on each other’s sides I’m glad that you’re you, that I’m me, and for us two I’m kinda glad that you’re evil too When the day starts anew, hope I spend it with you I’m glad that I fell in love with you

(I'm Glad You're Evil Too, Rachie/Anthong translyrics)

The Ranchers epitomize that.

They are doomed. They both know this, I think. Neither of them can fight, they're left begging for scraps by session 2, no one on the server takes either of them seriously and they lost a life literally like 10 minutes into the first episode.

But they built a home together, raised livestock, stood up for eachother. and they were happy together.

and isn't that what really matters?

and neither of them are even aware of how much they really meant to the other one. the game ends. tango tells jimmy to go home. go. they certainly don't break up to the extent of Some Other Pairings In This Series but i like to think tango distances himself, thinking jimmy would be happier with his friends and not stuck with him. jimmy thinks the same. but they still wave hi and call eachother rancher and now they're running a salad restaurant together or something i guess.

It's just.. everything that gets the two of them condemned and made fun of in their other relationships is what's Celebrated in theirs. They can just be themselves, mistakes and silliness and imperfections at all, with no pressure to perform amazing feats and make amazing stuff and I think that's great.

um yeah i like ranchers.

[weartirondad]

Sometimes Home Is A Mess

Prompt: “Please don’t leave me, I can’t do this without you.”“(With bby Peter and Tony) The Avengers are paroned from the according and return to the tower but haven't really asked for forgiveness. Baby Peter remembers days his dad returning with a limp and dent heart. Peter being a little genius connect the dots is now clinging to his father he felt he could have lost. Seeing the avengers gives no only Tony anxiety but to Peter as well. He scream and cries when he's so much a inch away from his farther heart. begging him not to go or leave his side.” (Anon)

A/N: Set after You Made Me A Believer. You don’t hafta read it together but you could.  Also check out this amazing song Home - by Stefanie Heinzmann 

Summary:  When the Avengers break apart, Tony is tired and worn and broken but Peter is there and it helps. -- When the Avengers get pardoned a year later because the world decides they need their heroes back Tony is worn from the fights he fought to get them there and Peter is still there.

FF.net I ao3 

--

There’s a dull ache behind his temple when his fuzzy mind clambers back into consciousness and a throbbing pain sits right behind his sternum. The feeling of his chest split open and his every muscle battered and bruised is a distressingly familiar one and for the briefest of moments the air around him feels too humid and dirty.

He can taste the blood and the sweat and smells the burned flesh and metal. He hears the crunching of sand between his teeth when he moves his jaw. He sees red and feels cold.

He’s not there, though, he knows that. Knows it by the way his ribs are cracked in a meticulously designed half-oval and by the memories he can’t push away.

His near death experience years ago in that cave in Afghanistan feels small, manageable, compared to the new betrayal. The new incision cut open scar tissue he’s been trying his hardest to forget but it’s different this time, somehow, more personal.

A humorless laugh slips past his dry lips at the thought of something being more personal than what Obie did to him and soon after he starts coughing, wincing when each and every fiber of his body is cataloging more pain until he feels it’s all he is.

“Jar?”

The name is out before he can think better of it and when it is – warm and familiar and soothing on his tongue – the wrong voice replies, hesitant in a way JARVIS wouldn’t have been. But Jarvis is Vision now and doesn’t have to answer to him anymore – not like that at least. Just another soul slipping from his desperate fingers that are always searching for a meaning, closeness, a family.

“You seem agitated, boss. Do you want me to call for help?”

He wants to scoff at the notion but thinks better of it, eyes still closed, mouth still dry.

“No,” he croaks out eventually because he doesn’t want help – doesn’t deserve it either. If he has to keep living, he wants to do it like this – in darkness and alone. He wants to embrace the shadows that have been hovering at his doorstep for as long as he can remember.

Some famous dead guy once said ‘We're born alone, we live alone, we die alone.’ and that’s exactly what he wants to do. Somewhere without the hurt, the constant betrayal and disappointment. He just wants peace.

That's all he’s ever wanted.

It’s all he’ll never get.

When F.R.I.D.A.Y. stays quiet he feels tears burn in his eyes. JARVIS would’ve ignored his orders.

He’s close to drifting off again when a small commotion startles him awake – survival instinct kicking in, even in a tower better secured than Fort Knox he’s always alert, always expecting something to attack.

This particular assault, though, makes his heart lighter and his muscles relax for the first time since… since that bunker probably. Since that god forsaken video.

“Peter is here to see you, boss, he asks if you’re up.” The AI’s voice is fond and it eases the pain of missing his old friend. F.R.I.D.A.Y. and Peter are getting along. Peter loves the Irish voice and the way she’s coded. To him she’s family just like Vision is.

“Let him in.”

It’s only been a few months since that fatal shooting that lead him to the boy and his aunt but ever since then they have taken up such a huge part of his life that he can’t remember a time when he didn’t have a kid running through his living room, dropping pens and paper and Lego everywhere.

When Peter is there, every corner of the empty tower is filled with life and laughter and love. He drives the ghosts and memories away, replaces them with new ones – better ones, purer ones – without realizing what he’s doing.

The squirt comes barreling into the room, arms clutching a lime green notebook to his chest, eyes twinkling and lips moving with rambles Tony’s dazed mind doesn’t quite catch.

He is young. He is life. He is hope.

He is everything Tony isn’t.                                                          

But then he stops and takes him in and his mouth slams shut, the audible click of his teeth like a gunshot in the sterile room. The smile in his eyes drains like a plug being pulled and there’s something wary in them now – a mind trapped in a memory – and there’s fear and hesitation.

“Tony?” he asks, voice eons away from the happy one he craves to hear. “Wha – What happened?”

Peter doesn’t drop the notebook like Tony might have. Instead he clutches it more tightly to his chest when he slowly steps closer to the bed, entire posture guarded and tense, ready to bolt at any second but not really wanting to.

“I,” he sighs because he hates lying and then tries not to wince which goes less than successful, “I got into a fight,” is what he settles on but he can see by the frown forming on Peter’s forehead that he’s suspicious. “You know how the super hero life goes – criminals don’t like being stopped.”

It’s a pathetic attempt at a joke and he knows that even with six years Peter can see right through his façade. Damn this kid and his emotional intelligence.

“Normal criminals don’t get that close,” he retorts quietly and then adds, voice dropping: “Pepper said you went out to help Captain America.”

Ah. Well, that’s just unfortunate.

“I did.”

“He hurt you.”

“Maybe I hurt him too.”

That makes the boy pause and look down, gaze stopping on his bruised hand that is connected to an IV stand next to his bed. Somehow, when he looks up again he looks older.

“Mister Vision had to fly out to get you back. If Captain America was that hurt he would’ve brought him back, too.”

Tony hates the matter of fact way he says it and the distrust that swings in his voice when speaking about one of his child hood heroes. He wants to take it all away but he finds that he’s too worn to lie, too tired to comfort, so he does what he does best and deflects.

“I thought you didn’t like hospitals.”

Peter shrugs like it’s not a big deal but his knuckles are turning white with the force he uses to clutch his notebook and when he mumbles a reply he doesn’t meet his eyes, “’S not a real hospital. ‘S like home. I was –“ He breaks off blushing and voice small when he finally looks at him again, “Are you okay?”

A small smile graces Tony’s lips and, to his utmost surprise, it doesn’t feel fake. He likes it when Peter calls the tower home. It feels like a spark of hope that it might be one again one day.

“I’m better now that I’ve got my favorite person in the whole world around to blow kisses on my booboos,” he grins and scoots over to make room on his bed for Peter.

It’s what they usually do when he gets back from a mission and is resting on the couch or his bed and Peter doesn’t waste another second to comply, jumping up and nestling into his side like a cat like he always does.

Like clockwork Tony’s arm winds around the boy’s back despite the pain the movement elicits and Peter leans forward to receive the usual kiss to the top of his head. When he leans back to scrutinize Tony his nose is adorably scrunched up and he looks slightly indignant. “Y’ know, booboo is a baby word and I’m a big boy.”

“Oh, you’re a big boy now, are you?” The offended puppy eyes melt away the last of the Siberian ice and he yields to the little boy. “Okay, okay. You’re a big boy,” he acquiesces, “So what kind of big boy stuff have you been up to while I was gone?”

Peter jumps right into it, pulling up his notebook and showing him how he has been practicing writing cursive. It became a thing just before Peter started school in summer that Tony would start to teach him the art of cursive writing. The moment he saw May’s awful handwriting for the first time he knew he couldn’t let the poor boy learn on that alone, so he took it upon himself to coach him on the intricacies of it.

Despite popular belief he actually loved writing things by hand and he had a good handwriting – it was just impractical most of the time and when did he ever do things for fun?  

The kid is still flicking through his book looking for a particular page when Tony startles both of them with a laugh.

“Did you,” he snorts and blinks away the moisture in his eyes that he’s not sure comes from the pain or the laughter, “Did you really write my name on there? C’mere, show me that!”

The hand not holding Peter in place tugs the book out of his hands and flicks to the side where he had painted a big Iron Man helmet and had written his superhero’s persona’s name next to it for Peter to practice writing the capital I. Peter, being Peter, though had decided to defy him on all accounts and had written his name – Anthony Edward Stark – over and over until the page was full. Ending on a half- finished Anthony Edw –

The writing is shaky and awkward because some of the letters they haven’t even practiced yet but all of them are correct and in that moment Tony loves Peter more than he could ever put into words, more than he ever thought he could love someone and he laughs again and this time he knows the tears are from both the pain of what he’s lost and from the bliss – the future ��� he’s holding in his arms.

“You think you’re being really funny, don’t ya?”

Peter scoffs and sticks his tongue out at him. “I am funny.”

Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou

“I really love you buddy, you know that?”

“’Course I do. You tell me all the time.”

 -.-

When the Avengers get pardoned a year later because the world decides they need their heroes back Tony is worn from the fights he fought to get them there.

He’s scared and anxious and angry but when he steps out into the penthouse Peter is sitting there – the picture of a content child – working on a LEGO set Tony is sure is above his age range and his inner storm calms when he approaches and sits down cross-legged next to him, watching him align the pieces carefully and with his tongue tucked between his teeth.

Maybe it’s selfish to break him out of his concentration, maybe he should just let him be but he needs Peter’s strength right now, needs his smile to build up his own because he’s tired and he’s wary and he needs to be reminded what he’s doing all this for.

“Hey bud,” he greets him with a hair ruffle and presses a kiss to the top of his head, lingering an instant longer than he normally would to breathe in the familiar scent. It’s home and it’s safe and it’s wonderful.

“Whataya up to?”

Peter beams up at him and somehow it makes his heart lighter and heavier at the same time. “May got me an AT-AP Walker Set! Pepper promised to help me build it but Morgan was hungry and I think she pooped herself,” he sniffs as if thinking back to a truly awful memory and Tony can’t help the smile forming on his lips. “Do you wanna help, too?”

“I would love to,” he sighs dramatically and leans back against the couch, watching Peter with a lazy smile. When he’s here like this he can almost forget what comes after. “But I still got an important meeting in, uh, five minutes and just wanted to drop by to, uh, say hi.”

Almost.

Slowly Peter puts down the grey bricks he has been working on and eyes him critically. “You never come home early when you still have a meeting,” he notes, “Unless you’re not going to the meeting but I think Pepper’d be mad if it’s important.”

“Shush,” he rolls his eyes and reaches out again to ruffle his hair. A part of him just wants to hold his boy close and never let go but the bigger part doesn’t want to worry him and to keep him as far away from all of this as possible. Which might not be very far for long.

“I promise I’m going. I just wanted to see something cute before I spend the next few hours with all these boring old folks.”

“I’m not cute,” the squirt quips back and goes back to sorting his bricks, “Morgan is cute. I’m –“

“Yeah, you’re what, Petey? Adorable? Precious? As sweet as the marshmallow fluff that’s giving you cavity? Delightful, maybe? Or what about-“

Suddenly his mouth his covered by a small sweaty hand and he can see how Peter is trying to be serious but he’s failing to suppress a giggle. “I’m not cute.”

Seizing the opportunity he tackles the kid into a hug and holds him close, “Okay, whatever buddy,” he breathes into his hair, “You know I love you, right?”

Soft curls tickle his nose when Peter nods dutifully and he knows he has to leave soon, knows he’s already running late and he can’t be – not for this. But suddenly letting go is so much harder than just getting his muscles to release the small body. The conference room suddenly seems so much farther away than just two stories down, it feels like they’re worlds apart and he likes this one better.

“Steve Rogers is requesting entry to the penthouse,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. interrupts his musings and just like that he feels Peter freeze in his hold and look up at him, eyes wide and betrayed and scared.

“What’s he doing here?” he demands, “What does he want? Why’d you let him in? Wh –“ Then, suddenly, he stills and glares, pushing away from Tony’s grasp and crossing his arms in front of his chest in a way that looks less like defiance and more like he’s shielding himself.  

“He’s your meeting, isn’t he?” he all but spits out and it sounds like the ultimate betrayal. His voice is shaking with anger and his doe eyes, usually soft and loving, are as closed off as Tony has ever seen them.

He pushes himself up to sit on the couch instead of on the ground so they’re eye-level and leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Without looking away from Peter, he raises his voice to talk to his AI.

“Tell him access denied and I’ll be with them in just a sec.”

“Them,” Peter narrows his eyes, “Who’s them?”

“The Avengers, Peter, I’m sure you’ve heard of them,” he retorts and immediately feels guilty when there’s a flash of hurt in his eyes. He sighs, head hanging, “Look, I’m sorry, Pete. I’m –“

Before he can decide on what to say, he’s being interrupted, something Peter rarely does and never when it’s important but the boy in front of him who dropped his arms and has his hands clenched to fists, shaking with fury isn’t the boy he usually deals with.

“Why are they here?”

“To talk.”

He wants to walk over to him and take him in his arms again to stop him from shaking like a leaf but he doesn’t want to tower over him, doesn’t want to crouch to be on his level either. This conversation is important and he knows he needs to stay put for now.

“The world needs the Avengers, Pete. We need them to protect the world. I need them to protect Morgan and – and to protect you. To protect my fa-“

“NO!” He all but screams and it has Tony mentally take a step back and stare when he’s stomping his foot and pulling his hair.

“No! No, no, no, no, no. NO!” he yells again, “I don’t need them! We – We don’t need them. We have you!” He scowls angrily. “You’re – You’re Iron Man! And they – I don’t trust them! I hate them! I want them to – I want them to go! Tell them to go away!”

Now, without trying to be braggadocios, Tony would say after helping raise Peter for almost two years and having a toddler of his own he has a pretty good grip on the whole parenting thing but – for fuck’s sake – he’s had it easy so far and never really had to deal with an actual tantrum before.

Sure, Morgan fusses and cries and wails like the world is ending sometimes but a four-month-old tantrum is much different from Peter having a meltdown in front of him. Peter, the most well behaved boy on the planet who rather screams into his pillow than at people and who, for reasons he tries not to dwell on, never ever pushes May or him away in fear of pushing too far and losing too much.

Peter is a good kid. Sometimes he’s angry, sometimes he’s sad and sometimes he has so many emotions he doesn’t know how to deal with that he shuts down but the last time Tony has seen him this helplessly angry was the night he found him in a dark alleyway bend over his uncle’s dead body.

The entirety of his small body seems to be filled with rage. He’s trembling with it, overflowing with fury and what looks like something that’s much too close to hatred for Tony to ever want to see it in his boy’s eyes ever again.

He remembers the first time he had to calm him down, remembers the blood and the pain and the harsh light of the streetlamps and he hates it. Hates the Rogues for making Peter feel that way again more than he hates them for leaving in the first place.

“Kiddo,” he murmurs and slides down from the couch, sitting cross legged and with open arms in front of the shaking kid. He doesn’t scoot closer even though he wants to and tries to beckon him towards him with his voice alone. “They won’t hurt you, I promise. I would never let anyone hurt you.”

“But they hurt you.” Peter hasn’t moved yet but his voice has dropped a few pitches and some of the anger is seeping out of his shoulder. Tony would only count it as a half-win, though, when it’s instantly replaced by sadness and fear. Those he knows how to deal with at least.

“I don’t want them to hurt you again,” he whispers, taking a timid step forward and letting Tony reach for his hands that are hanging listlessly by his side. He watches him uncurl them quietly and when he looks up to meet his gaze again there are tears running down his cheeks. “You have to take care,” he demands reverently and takes another step forward, dropping into Tony’s lap and throwing his arms around the older man’s neck.

“You have to take care and come back,” he presses into his collarbone, “You can’t – Please don’t leave me all alone. I only have May and you and I can’t do this without you. I can’t. You have to promise!”

Oh Peter.

Tony pulls the small boy impossibly closer, rubbing a hand over his back and pressing a kiss to his temple.

“I promise I’ll always come back home to you, kiddo.”

And maybe that’s an unfair promise to make when he can’t ever be sure he’ll be able to keep it. Maybe lying makes him a bad parent. But right now he has his kid crying into his t-shirt and he’d do anything to make it better and so he promises himself that he’ll always do his best and fight his hardest to make sure he’ll always be there to make it better.

[whatsnewalycat]

Just Dumb Enough to Try

Chapter 25: Pitch Dark

Word Count: 4.3k+

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Tags / CW: swearing, cheating/infidelity, domestic abuse, smoking, kidnapping, pregnancy, tension, cops, gore and violence, I don't really want to say anything else to prevent spoilers but I think if you've made it this far you'll be fine???

Chapter Summary: The search comes to an end.

Notes: Chapter title from "Pitch Dark" by Chelsea Jade. FYI: the playlist for this chapter is a banger. I'll post chapter 26 probably on Friday this week because I'm going to the WWWY festival in Vegas next weekend (pray for me I am very neurodivergent why am I doing this). I cannot belieeeeeeeeeve we're almost to the end of this story. I'm a proud mama. OK ANYWAY HERE YA GO!

[ Masterlist for Series ] [ Taglist ] [ Spotify Playlist ] [ AO3 ]

8734 177th Rd, Laredo, TX July 31, 1998

After you’re roused from sleep by creaking footsteps outside the closet door, and come out the other side of your subsequent full-body panic attack, Dan drags you out into the foyer again.

The foyer, with its dusty hardwood floors, and cobwebs, and fucking yellow wallpaper, and the woody ammonia mouse piss smell. Morning sun hits the other side of the house, making the vacant room all dim natural light and shadowy corners.

He deposits you in the same spot he did yesterday, his presence suspiciously neutral as he sits down facing you and takes the gag out of your mouth. You take a deep breath of air and choke on it, triggering a coughing fit. Fearing the metallic, rotten wad of fabric being stuffed in your mouth again, you gasp out, “Sorry- not- trying,” when your seizing lungs let you.

He pulls a chocolate chip granola bar out of his pants pocket and opens it, ignoring the coughing completely. You note that he’s in a clean set of clothes and is no longer covered in blood. On his skin and hair, though, faint red stains remain.

It reminds you of Halloween 1995, when you dressed up as a vampire. You bought a tube of fake blood for $1 at the local drug store to smear on your face for dramatic effect. The red dye was unforgiving and left your face tinged red for a week, no matter how hard you tried to scrub it off your skin.

Again, you wonder if it’s Javier’s blood. But unlike last night, the thought doesn’t make you spiral. Because something happened.

I hear you, cariño.

The words play on repeat in your head. In the midst of your good morning panic attack, you were praying to God or anybody, his voice cut through the fog, crystal clear. It perplexes you.

Dan pinches off a chunk of granola bar the size of a quarter and brings it to your lips. You open your mouth and grab it with your teeth, trying not to be too obvious about how hard you’re avoiding touching your lips to his fingers. Between bites, he tips a plastic water bottle to your lips and you take sips.

He gets up and retrieves something from behind you, then sits down, crossing his long legs in front of him as he sets a first aid kit on the floor between you. You flinch when his hands land on your shoulders. He doesn’t react to the involuntary movement, just murmurs, “I’m gonna remove the rope to clean your wounds. Don’t make me regret it.”

“Ok,” you exhale in a shaky breath and watch the wallpaper like you expect it to do something. He moves methodically, untying the knots around your ankles, then your wrists, then your shoulders. His blonde curtain bangs hang loosely in front of his face, swaying from side to side as he tends to you.

Steady hands crinkle the weak plastic of a disposable water bottle when he twists it open, then pours some water over the lacerations. He dabs them with paper towels in an attempt to clear the wounds of debris. The pop of a cap being pried open makes you flinch, then he advises gently, “This is going to sting,” before he pours rubbing alcohol on the wounds.

Sizzling, searing pain rips a howl from your hoarse throat, and, even though you try your damndest to sit still and work through the pain, your feet smack against the dusty hardwood floor with a mind of their own.

“I’m not trying,” you whimper when he stares at you with a clenched jaw, deep blue eyes drenched in annoyance at your outburst.

He shoulders soften as he sighs, “I know.”

The searing pain fizzles out to a faint sting. He applies goopy ointment, then wraps the wounds in gauze. Once the rope burns are cleaned and dressed, he moves you closer and has you face him so he can clean your split cheek. The first couple of times he reaches out to touch you, you flinch.

Eventually, though, the movements don’t seize your breath, and it feels... strangely intimate. He’s calm, face almost appearing sympathetic, when you whimper helplessly at the rubbing alcohol burn this time. It dawns on you that the man you’ve spent the last four years with is still there somewhere.

You try to make casual conversation like you have across the dining room table hundreds of times before, asking him, “How was softball?”

To your surprise, he responds to this with a shrug, “It was fine. Average, I guess. We played a scrimmage, went ‘n’ got some drinks at Cowboy Slim’s after.”

“How is your new glove working out for you?” your throat feels raw and bruised when you swallow hard, tiptoeing into the realm of non-violent interaction.

“Kinda sucks, not gonna lie,” he mutters as he tapes down the gauze on your face, “Still breaking it in. So pissed I lost my old one. That one was perfect, I had it for so long.”

“Yeah,” you nod, staring forward at the yellow-tinged wallpaper, “Sometimes you lose things and just… have to move on, you know? It’ll get better.”

He stops moving, and you can feel his eyes burning into your profile. Abruptly, he stands up, picking up the first aid kit, carrying it out of the room down the hallway.

You inhale sharply as you remember the unattended front door. As you saw when you were ushered into the foyer, you can’t be more than a dozen steps away from it. There are creaks at the back of the house as he rummages around for something.

He might not notice. How much of a head start could I get?

Before you can think twice, you clamor to your feet and turn around, taking a step towards the screen door. Your bare feet are silent as you take another quick step.

Then another. A few more. Each step gives you a fresh surge of adrenaline.

Two steps away.

One more. You’re so close.

When your fingers touch the door handle, a creak sounds from directly behind you, and you hear the metallic click of the safety being pulled back on a revolver. You freeze.

“If you move, I’ll shoot you right in the fuckin’ skull,” Dan growls from behind you, burying the barrel in your hair. The cold metal circle presses flush against your bruised scalp. Your heart thuds in your chest and your field of vision goes white with panic.

He speaks quiet and calm as he instructs you, “Put your hands up.”

You comply, extremities breaking out in tremors as you slowly raise both arms at your sides. One of his hands encloses your wrist.

“Unfucking believable,” he grunts as he puts the safety back on the handgun and the cold circle of death is pulled away from your head. He brings your hands down behind your back, securing them in place with a zip tie, making you wince as the plastic digs into your fresh bandages. You can’t decide if this is an upgrade from the rope or just a different kind of hell on earth.

“Do you have to use the bathroom?” he asks as he turns you around to face him. It was a mistake to try escaping. His features are shadowed again, steeped with fury.

You ponder his question briefly, taking inventory of bodily functions you’d been completely neglecting to monitor, then shake your head.

With this, he yanks on your arm, leading you back to the closet. When he opens the door, you step inside obediently. He closes it. Your legs shake when you try to squat down into a sitting position, and you end up toppling over backwards against the wall behind you.

With a groan, you shimmy your ass to the floor and accept this as your seat. You stare at the slit of light shining under the door. Thoughts bounce around your brain like it’s a pinball machine.

“Did you love him?”

You wonder whose blood was on Dan yesterday. The red stains on his skin and hair. Was it even blood?

“Well that was pretty fucking stupid, wasn’t it?”

You wonder if there’s anyone searching for you. If Claudia or your parents know you’ve been kidnapped. If your parents would even care.

Something tickles your face.

Probably a spider.

You wonder what the odds of surviving a black widow bite are.

A shudder runs down your spine as you remember the cold circle of a revolver pressed against your bruised scalp.

You wonder what the odds are of surviving a kidnapping are.

Probably about the same as a black widow bite.

Your thoughts take a sharp turn, and you remember that it’s Friday, then wonder when The X-Files will start airing on Friday nights again.

Will I ever find out what happened to Agent Fox Mulder’s sister? Will he and Scully ever kiss?

This summer, you wanted to see The X-Files movie, but it came out the same day as The Truman Show, which you wanted to see more.

What if, instead of spiraling into an existential crisis while teetering between tipsy and drunk from giant margaritas, you gabbed Javier’s ear off about the possibility of extraterrestrials?

He might not have witnessed you bearing your soul, spilling your guts across the table in front of him (I don’t want to have to gut you, too ) as you came to the realization that being with him was the first thing you did for yourself in a very long time. Would you have come to that conclusion if the two of you had seen a different movie?

In his car two weeks prior, he talked about how, back in 1993, he didn’t like to be around Michelle other than “the fucking, yeah. Not like you…“

“What do you mean not like me?”

“I like being around you.”

“I like being around you, too.”

And it’s clear to you then, that it doesn’t matter what movie you saw, or where you went, because it would have resulted in your breath on his, hot and pleading for him to fuck you. You could have done anything in life, and you would have ended up tangled together in bed, Javier playing with your hair as you write love notes onto his skin.

It’s kismet.

This thought brings you enough peace that the erratic pinball that is your stream of consciousness settles into a lull, and you close your eyes. Maybe just a little nap. It’s not like you have anything better to do.

—

The sound of the hardwood floor creaking outside the door wakes you.

You blink a few times before coming to grips with your surroundings, realizing you’re propped up in the corner of the closet, settling into the dust and spiderwebs. The door groans open, spilling sunshine into your enclosure, and you hum with relief as the (relatively) cool air hits your sweat-drenched skin. You’re groggy and delirious when Dan asks, “Do you have to use the bathroom?”

You take a bodily inventory and determine that: yes, for the first time in probably 24 hours, you have to pee.

When you nod, Dan hoists you up and folds you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, then starts carrying you down the hallway in a direction you haven’t been yet. Your head is spinning, dazed, like you’re in a dream.

He comes to a stop and lowers your feet to the ground. You think he does, anyway.

Your feet are numb phantoms, but you’re upright and semi-stable. The muscles you can feel scream in protest. You roll your head on your shoulders to squint and find Dan’s face, and when you do, he has a mask on again. Neutral as he guides you backwards through the threshold of a room, until the backs of your knees press up against cold porcelain.

He lowers you down onto a toilet seat, then pulls your shorts down until they meet the zip tie at your ankles. The big, shiny, red button gifted to you from the crows slips out of your pocket and clatters onto the ground.

You swear you can hear cawing.

Your face falls and you frown, voice coming out in croaks like your vocal chords are shards of glass, “Oh no, I didn’t feed the crows today.”

He says nothing.

You expect him to leave, or at least fucking turn around to give you some privacy, but he kneels down in front of you, one hand helping keep you steady as you weave back and forth, pulled by the weight of your spinning head. It’s not until your body releases a stream of piss you realize his other hand is in the toilet bowl.

He’s giving me a pregnancy test.

Not able to emote yourself properly in your delirium, you scrunch your face up and shake your head, asking with curiosity in a hoarse whisper, “Why?”

“You’re not fucking leaving here until I know whether or not you’ve been knocked up,” he growls.

That’s gonna be a problem.

—

Middle of Fucking Nowhere, Laredo, TX July 31, 1998

Someone broke the news of your disappearance to the media. Probably some fucking blabbermouth. Javier knows it’s bad when he finds himself pushing his way through throngs of people as they gather around the established perimeter.

As he reaches the blaring yellow crime scene tape, he scans the area for Detective Anderson. A petite blonde woman in a neat, fitted pantsuit widens her eyes as she spots him walking up beside her, then lays her hand on his forearm as she asks, “Excuse me, are you Javier Peña?”

This catches him by surprise.

He turns to face her and takes a step back, surveying her short stature as he answers, “Yes.”

He shouldn’t have answered.

“Do you have anything to say about the photos of you and the missing woman?” she questions, pulling a pen and a pocket notebook out of her smart navy blazer.

“No,” he snaps as he turns away to face the blocked off crime scene. He picks out Detective Anderson standing at the back of a cop car, hovering over a map, marking things off with a dull pencil as he talks to a few other law enforcement officials.

“Do you feel responsible for her abduction?” the woman questions next. Javi can feel the heat rising to his head.

The fucking balls on these people.

He steps over the crime scene tape and approaches Detective Anderson. Greg follows his lead, holding the list of empty properties under his damp armpit, while Claudia stays behind the barrier to shoot daggers at the blonde news reporter.

The Webb County Sheriff looks up from the map and nods at Javi. Anderson follows his gaze, then waves Javi and Greg over. They make room around the map for the newcomers.

“Sorry about the circus,” Anderson grumbles sideways to Javi, then clears his throat, “No blood in the car as far as we can tell, so we’re working under the assumption that she’s still alive. Organizing a search of these areas here,” he taps the eraser of his pencil to the areas circled on the map.

He starts dictating specifics about who he wants where, and the men nod as they listen along diligently.

Greg looks over the map, then flips through his papers, cross-examining the two documents. He prods the map in two specific areas with his sausage fingers, explaining, “We searched the empty properties here earlier today and didn’t find anything,” then points to two other spots, “These two haven’t been cleared yet, we can go check 'em out if y’all haven’t already.”

“Fine by me,” Anderson nods, which surprises Javier.

With this, Greg and Javi double back towards Greg’s truck. Anderson catches up with them, tapping Javi on the shoulder. Javi stops and turns to the detective, who instructs, “If you find anything, call right away and we’ll be there in a jiffy. Especially if you find the suspect. Don’t confront him. We don’t want any bloodshed.”

Javi’s mouth forms a flat line and he nods, “You got it.”

He doesn't mean it.

—

The two properties in question are on the same country road, about a mile away from each other and where Dan’s car was abandoned, forming an equilateral triangle on the map. Greg parks at the mid-point of the subject properties at Javier’s suggestion to approach with stealth, not come roaring down the driveway in a pickup truck. He wants to get you out alive. If you're not already dead.

“No blood in the car as far as we can tell, so we’re working under the assumption that she’s still alive.”

There’s hope. He’s been tortured by the unknown for the past 26 hours. The notion that he spent a decade avoiding serious relationships while in Columbia, only to come home, fall in love, and have her ripped away, is driving him fucking mad.

Javier’s hands shake as he lights a cigarette and their ragtag search party of 3 starts off towards the first house. The gravel road crunches and stirs dust up under their steps. He wipes beads of sweat off his forehead with back of his hand and grimaces at the sun that’s beating down on them.

Claudia glances to the cigarette clamped between Javi’s index and middle finger, “Can I have one?”

“I didn’t know you smoked,” he comments as he digs the pack out of his back pocket and holds it out to her. She plucks one out and presses it between her lips. Javi flicks his shiny silver butane lighter ablaze, holding fire to the end of the cigarette.

She inhales deeply, then exhales a plume of blue smoke, “I quit when I was pregnant with Michael, but my nerves are fucking shot. I need it.”

Javi nods in understanding, taking a drag, then tells Claudia, “I tried quitting a few years ago, but I couldn’t stick to it.”

“It’s fucking hard. If I didn’t have that motivation, I’d probably still be a pack-a-day smoker,” she scoffs.

“I think I’m going to try to quit again,” Javi announces.

“Yeah?”

“With the baby and all. I don’t want this shit around the kid,” he tilts his head and considers something he never had previously, “Plus, I should probably try to stick around for them as long as I can. Don’t want lung cancer to take me out at 50.”

A toothy grin spreads across Claudia’s face and she nods, “How are you feeling about it? Being a dad?”

The acid that was previously at a simmer in his stomach shoots up in his throat at a full boil. He clears his throat to lessen the feeling, then admits, “Fucking terrified. What if I’m not… I don’t know, good at it?”

“I’ll let you in on a secret: Nobody knows what the fuck they’re doing when they become a parent,” Claudia chuckles, taking a puff off the cigarette, “You’ll do great, I know it.”

Javier takes a drag off his cigarette. His eyebrows press together as he asks her, “How do you know?”

“Javi, look at what we’re doing right now. All you’ve done in the past day,” Claudia gives him a reassuring smile, “There’s nothing you won’t do to make sure your family is safe.”

Although he doesn’t point out that it was his own ignorance that put you in danger in the first place, he supposes she’s right. You’re part of his family, and he won’t find peace until you’re home with him.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, and one corner of his mouth upturns.

—

The first house was a bust.

While they did find approximately 17 feral cats in the barn, there were no humans in sight. The search party is silent on their route to the second house. Claudia and Greg shoot concerned glances back and forth, eyeing Javi from behind as he blazes ahead of them.

Javier ignores the fatigue settling in his bones and the burning in his calves as he quickens his pace. There’s a decent chance you’re at this next place. He remembers what you looked like in his dream. Beaten to shit.

What if you’re not there? Or worse, what if he’s too late? Would he be able to live with that guilt?

When the 8734 mailbox comes into view, he goes from a brisk walk to a jog. The driveway is long, winding back from the road a quarter of a mile, Javi estimates. Claudia and Greg catch up to him when he stops and crouches down upon hearing crows cawing. He thinks he sees a pair of fat, black bird loitering in front of the run-down rambler.

“She’s here,” he tells them, squinting up at the home, once again cursing himself for not seeing a fucking optometrist.

Greg crouches down further, “Do you see them?”

“No,” answers Javier as he pulls out his pistol to verify it’s locked and loaded, “Crows.”

While Claudia nods knowingly, Greg tilts his head and furrows his brow, “Crows?”

“Just trust me,” Javi sighs, then looks between Claudia and Greg, “Ready?”

—

Dan pulls you to your feet and steadies you against the sink as he tugs your shorts up over your thighs, sticky with sweat and streaked with dirt. He doesn’t button them, just shimmies them up to your waist and then hoists your dead weight over his shoulder again, carrying you into the adjoining room.

Without warning, he tosses you onto the floor like a rag doll.

Your back hits the dusty hardwood floor and the wind is knocked out of you. The ceiling is spinning above you. You’re gulping for air like a fish out of water, only able to rock from side to side as you try to curl into a protective ball and suck in air at the same time.

Your clamp your eyes shut and spin in the darkness.

When you open them, he’s standing over you, head spiraling like you’re being flushed down a toilet drain. He pulls you up to your knees by the zip tie around your wrists, and you don’t even feel it cutting into your swollen hands. The spinning slows and you’re able to take a broken breath in, out, slowly, his face centers and stills in your vision.

“You fucking bitch. I would have given you everything ,” his eyes bore into you, darker by the second, and you meet his stare with your own, trying to muster the illusion of bravery. He holds his hands to your shoulders to ensure you don’t topple over.

Then they come up to your throat.

As you realize what he’s doing, you scream and try to get away, only falling backwards for a moment before he catches you, spindly fingers wrapping around your neck. He squeezes down and holds you suspended. You wheeze when you try to breathe around his grip. A smile creeps across his stone face and he clamps harder.

Panic.

Telling you he loved you in the park. Making out in the photo booth.

Can’t breathe.

Hand resting on your bare leg, fingers drawing sweet nothings onto your skin. Playing with your hair.

No noises, no airflow.

Kissing your knotted wrist that was once a gaping wound.

You try in vain to rip yourself away.

Can’t move.

His lips against yours. Silky dark hair your fingers comb through. The slope of his nose. Dimpled smile. Bedsheets that smell like the love of your life. Puppy dog eyes.

Buzzing in your ears.

“I hear you, cariño.”

Sizzling. Ringing. Popping.

In a tunnel, all you can see so far away, surrounded by black.

Flashes of people you love: Grandma, brothers, Claudia, Javier. Jellybean.

Energy drains from your body and you feel your eyes start to flutter shut, even though you can’t see anything anyway.

-BANG-

You fall onto the ground, collapsing in a heap, gasping for air. Choking. Coughing. Your arm is wet and sticky and scarlet.

It’s blood.

You search frantically for its source, then see Dan.

He’s laying the floor, staring at you. You’re gasping for air, heartbeat exploding in your chest, trying to kick yourself away from him and the impossibly dark red circle expanding around him.

His blonde hair is a gushing, black, viscous spring. A waterfall of it spills down across his face. Pooling the darkest red in his mouth, gaping wide. Streaming over his open, vacant eyes. Not vacant like they were before.

No, this time, they’re vacant as in dead.

You scream but it’s silent and sets your throat on fire.

Just the whistle-high pitch like a teakettle that’s almost ready to pour. Then there are hands on your body, pulling you away from the pool of blood. You buck away from the contact in a frenzy of confusion.

The grip anchors in your shoulders and shakes you.

Your whole body goes numb and your ears start ringing. Because you see him then.

He’s wearing a gray polo shirt, hair wild and flying in all different directions, just like the last time you saw him. It feels like a lifetime ago. Dashingly handsome, looking more terrified than you’ve ever seen him.

Javi. Holy shit it’s him.

Your ears come out of the tunnel and tune into earth, and you hear him saying your name, mumbling, “Baby it’s ok, I’m here, I’m here, I got you, it’s ok.”

Someone else cuts the zip ties on your wrists and ankles, and you throw your arms around him weakly. He pulls you in, burying his face in your neck, hugging around your chest so tight, you start to cough again.

“Fuck, sorry,” he gasps, then he lowers to the floor and pulls you onto his lap, stroking your dirty, blood-soaked hair. Your body wracks with sobs when it dawns on you that this is real.

It’s real. He’s here. He’s alive. You’re alive.

He cradles you in his arms and yells at Greg to call an ambulance. You inhale the musk of his sweat and curl into him as your body heaves. His lips on your forehead, promising, “You’re ok, you’re safe now.”

[ Next Chapter ]

[wornoutmouse]

I'm doing a Haikyuu male reader next of my own devising since hoes don't want to request 🙄.Fyi i write smut, angst, and fluff just tell me yeah charcter, category and plot of you want.

Sukuna x Gojo x femReader

Don't ask the time period i don't even know man😓😭 I'd like to say it's set in Africa during like the era when Japan still had emperor's.

Once again sorry I'm working so slow sometimes plots don't work and i have to restart.

But reciving the news of my teacher/second father's death this morning has urged me to bury myself in work.

Yokai Gojo and Sukuna

When they speak japanese it will be bold

Warnings: manipulation, behind the scenes murder, hidden angst

You were a fool for venturing out in the wilderness by yourself. Have you learned nothing from your grandmother?!

The sound of crows and cicadas vibrated around you as you walked through the forest. You were only out here for some berries, so how on earth did you get lost?

Your feet were bare and sore, and the sky was only getting darker as the sun lowered. Finally deciding that continuing to walk wouldn't help, you opt to climb a tree.

As you climbed further, you prayed that you wouldn't fall as numerous species of insects crawled throughout the tree and unfortunately on your hands and back.

Reaching a height great enough that you could see over the trees, you spot water in the distance. It was the river just east from your village and that was a promising sign that you weren't a complete idiot.

Climbing down the tree with less grace than you came, you head in the direction of the river, and soon the forest floor is shrouded in shadows as the sun finally sets. You hug yourself and press your arms close to your shaking body.

As you walked, you noticed warm light peeking through shrubbery ahead. You slowed your steps and walked with your feet at an angle. By some miracle, you avoided the sticks below you. "Wait till I tell father about this he'll have to let me hunt with him"

You grimace, "Assuming he'll let me leave home ever again after this" Thinking of your father put a sour taste in your mouth. The man loved you, truly, but the only way he deemed you safe is if you are at home all the time or if you are with your future husband at all times. One of which you were not ready for, and the other you'd rather not.

You got as close to the light as you could without being noticed, and crouched. Two men stood next to each other facing a fire in the opposite direction of you. Good, you could stay down wind. A rough voice spoke, but you were not able to understand the strange language he spoke.

They were tall and pale and the clothes they wore, was not of your region. The closest you could compare it to was the robes worn by the elders once they reached a certain age.

Their hair color was strange as well. The tallest one had hair the color of winter snow meanwhile the other's hair was pink like your mother's roses. They spoke more but you still couldn't understand what they were saying.

The one with white hair seemed familiar to you yet you couldn't quite place it. Either way, you didn't feel safe approaching them on your own so you decided to walk around.

You shift from one foot to the other and fall back on your bottom as something flies over your head. Looking behind, you saw a knife in a tree behind you.

"Screw this!" You whispered to yourself, taking off. You run blindly through the forest, jumping over fallen trees and on many occasions running on all fours when you fell down.

Fear should have been on your mind but all you could think of was how your mother would kill you when she saw the tears that were most likely forming on your clothes.

After you get a good distance, you stop and take in your surroundings. To your left, you gaze with wide eyes, at the reflection of the moon on the lake. Hopefulness filled your heart as you saw twinkling fire coming from your village in the distance.

You were finally home, is all you thought as you took a step forward. You freeze as a shiver goes down your spine and moments later, something wraps itself around your ankles, dragging you back into the dark forest.

You cover your face as you're dragged across the floor. It was a long while till you stopped and when you did, you found yourself back to the two men as they towered over you.

They looked down at you, well one did, the others eyes were covered and that scared you more than the man grinning sinisterly above you.

"Would you look at that, you got pretty far,, my vine couldn't even reach you till you stopped." The vine releases you and you quickly crawl back. "You should have kept running I love a good chase." The man with white hair grinned down at you, hands in the sleeves of his robe.

The pink haired man crouched in front of you, and you flinch as your see fangs flash in the fun light. "Demon." You whimper as you look at the smaller eyes surrounding his normal ones.

Black markings surrounded his face and down his chest that was strangely bare despite the cool air. "You like what you see?" While you couldn't understand him verbally, it was obvious that he was gloating.

You turn your face haughtily, "She doesn't speak Japanese." Gojo finally spoke up, looking at you with subtle interest. He recognized you from his visit to your village. Well it wasn't necessarily a 'visit' more like he watched from afar.

You had seen him before though, whether you knew it or not.

Gojo cleared his throat, "Can you tell us what you were doing in the bushes?" Your eyes widened at his ability to speak your language. While it was comforting, it was even more suspicious.

"I was going home, and your light caught my attention." You said calmly. It's best that they don't know you were lost. Your eyes darted to the pink haired man who stayed crouched in front of you.

He raises his hand towards you, and you swallow as his sharp nails come into view. "You're a pretty little thing aren't you?" You resist the urge to slap his hands away as he uses the back of his finger to caress your cheek.

These men are dangerous, one clearly more reckless than the other. All it took was one wrong move and you'd be on the receiving end of that danger. "I would like to be on my way, sorry for bothering you."

You stand up and take a few steps back. A warm chest stops your retreat and you look up to see the white haired man standing behind you. "What's the rush, can't we have a little fun? Look, if you entertain us a bit, we'll walk you home." The pink haired man said in a singsong voice.

You shook your head and walked around the white haired man. "No thank you, it's not that far." The white haired man shrugged and watched you walk away. "We really gonna let a good piece of ass like that go?" Sukuna grumbled as he watched the darkness swallow your form.

Gojo placed his hands behind his head, "She'll be back don't worry."

You walked in the direction you had before, but it seemed as if you were no closer to leaving the forest like before. You climbed a tree and saw the river once again and walked towards it. But it seemed as if you were truly making no moves towards it whatsoever.

After a while of sitting in the nerve racking darkness, you walk back in the direction of the men, hoping they haven't left yet. It was against your better judgement, but they were the only option you had left.

To your luck, they hadn't left and were tending to their own flames. When you came back into view, they looked up at you. And you tried to ignore the rose haired man's knowing smirk.

The white hair man, that you have come to trust more than the other, waved at you slightly as you got closer to the fire. "I thought you were going home?" You shrugged your shoulders embarrassed.

"I got lost." Both men humed with mock concern. The pink haired man walked towards you loosely. "That's not good, I'm sure your family is worried sick." You nodded absent-mindedly. An arm is slung around your shoulder and you lean into it, basking in the warmth.

"Well we can't have that now can we Gojo?" The pink haired man looked at the man next to you, Gojo. "No I don't think I'd be able to sleep easily if I left you alone, how about you Sukuna."

If one were to have looked up. One would have noticed a strangeness to the sky above. Almost as if being covered by a bubble the sky closed and got considerably darker.

A barrier. After all, wouldn't want anyone to hear you scream.

"So do you promise to entertain?" Sukuna held out his hand and you looked at it. The black lines wrapping around his arms seemed to move but you summed it up to being a truck of the light. "What kind of entertainment?"

Gojo squeezed your shoulders and you shivered as his warm breath brushed against your ear. "Nothing you won't enjoy as well, we're all adults here aren't we?" You could feel your face warm at the implications. "I-I don't think I can do that."

You go to stand and the barrier above stops. "Aw what a shame." Sukuna turns back around as if heading to sit down but stopping. "But how will you get home!?" You furrow your berries, weren't they still going to take you?

Gojo noticed your face, "Ah, my dear this is a world of give and take. So I'm afraid we can't do things without a price. But if you feel better off on your own figuring your way through the dark woods, then we respect your decision."

You didn't want to do that and they both knew it.

"What do you want in return?" Gojo and Sukuna shared a look with each other. Your eyes widened as Gojo's hand trailed down your back, drawing circles when it got just above your butt. "Just a little pleasure…mixed with a little pain." Sukuna's teeth shined in the fire's light.

"Pain?! Out here?!? No, anyone could see!" You stood up, Gojo following suit. He had yet to say anything but knew Sukuna could handle it.

Like a snake, the tatted man came close to you and held your chin as one arm wrapped around your waist. "Oh calm down sweet cheeks, a little pain never hurt anybody." He leaned forward closer to your neck and you suck in a breath as you feel him nibble on your earlobe. "I'll make sure of it."

Gojo pressed against your back, "Don't worry about being seen." He clicked his fingers and suddenly you found yourself shrouded in darkness. In the middle of said darkness, was a large bed with a bright sourceless light glaring down at it.

Hands are on you in an instant, and you are pulled into the bed with Sukuna behind you and Gojo in front.

Because you were only wearing short bottoms, your legs were easily accessible. Hot wet kisses are layed on your caves as Gojo travels up your body.

Sukuna was less attentive. Taking your face in a harsh grip and kissing you roughly. You squeaked as his thumb nail pierced your cheek. A red red stream of blood falls down your cheek and Sukuna laps it up like a starved animal.

"Be gentle with her." Gojo tutted at his rude counterpart who only scoffed. "Why should I when breaking them is the best part?!" Your neck was gripped tightly and forced you to watch Gojo nip at your clothed thighs. "You like that don't you?" You shook your head embarrassed as Gojo's hands went behind you, cupping your ass.

He skillfully massages them before tugging your pants down. "You're moving too damn slow Satoru."

Sukuna's rough voice made you turn as it vibrates against the shell of your ear. "Patience, wouldn't want to hurt them." "That's the point as far as I'm concerned."

Sukuna puts his hands under your shirt and goes to cup your small chest. "I usually prefer mine with a little more here but I guess you'll have to do." Your body twitches as Sukuna mercilessly pinches and pulls at your nipples till they became puffy.

You close your eyes as you feel Gojo's warm mouth cover your pussy. His tongue played with your lips before pushing farther. You were beyond wet at this point and his tongue was simply sinful.

Sukuna was starting to feel ignored, so it was no surprise when he made it known. He pushes at Gojo's head with his foot before turning you around to face him on your knees. Fingers swipe over your lips before trailing up to your head.

You wince as his fingers curl into your fro, pulling your face to his crotch. "Why don't you put that pretty mouth of yours to use?" You fumble clumsily with the soft cloth of his robes before finally finding the prize. You lost all nerve when you saw how thick it was.

Forget going inside of you, you doubt it could even fit in your mouth. Sukuna pressed your face closer, urging you to start. You stick your tongue out hesitantly and collect the salty fluids dripping out of the tip. Just from that small simulation, Sukuna groans lowly.

Gojo had long since resumed his meal, and the sounds leaving his mouth was obscene. You couldn't see it but Sukuna watched with curious eyes as Gojo's face developed into a bit of a red color as he pressed his mouth against you.

Faint whimpers could be heard from him and the vibrations shook your core the louder he got. "Hey Satoru what's with that face, you're moaning like a bitch." Gojo doesn't respond as he grips your thighs harder. Sukuna pressed your face closer to his dick and you have no choice but to take him in your mouth.

You bobbed your head as his hand guided you relentlessly. With his other hand, Sukuna leaned forward and tugged at Gojo's blindfold.

Gojo's face was just as lewd as the noises he made. His sky blue eyes were shining with unshed tears and Sukuna had never seen a man look as content. You stop sucking when something wet hits your lower leg.

Looking in between your thighs, Sukuna laughs as he sees Gojo helplessly humping the air as warm ropes of cum spurted from his exposed cock. Sakuna gripped Gojo's now limp hair and the snow blond man glared at him through his dazed eyes. "You really are a bitch aren't you?"

Gojo reached forward and gripped Sukuna's face just as harshly, "Yes but this bitch knows how to please a woman." With that, he kisses Sukuna, forcing his tongue past his lips and exploring his mouth.

You watched, mouth agape as the men showed such an intimate display of dominance. Sukuna's fingers trailed down your back as he tongue fucked Gojo. Gaining more dominance, Sukuna fluidly pushes Gojo back far enough that he could slip two of his fingers inside of you.

While it was uncomfortable due to his sharp nails, you couldn't help but get a thrill as they scraped against your walls. Sukuna jerks his head away, his ruby eyes flared with lust and confidence. "Let's see about that."

You find yourself on your back with your head hanging off of the bed as Sukuna takes place over you and Gojo stands above you. The white haired man was beyond red and his dick was fairing no better.

It was long and an angry purple, dripping with so much pre cum that it had made his dick slick and shiny.

As if under a spell you open your mouth and Gojo quickly slides inside, gripping the sheets next to your head tightly as he face fucks you. You gag profusely as the head relentlessly slides down your throat without stopping.

You bring your hands to grip his thighs to try and gain some bearing but that only spurs him on as his thrust became rougher, and the sound of you choking becomes rhythmic as drool collects in the corner of your mouth.

"What happened to treating her gently?" Sukuna smirks as he watches the skin around your neck bulge with each thrust. "S-Sorry, young lady, but your mouth is so fucking warm and tight." Gojo slows himself into a slow grind, tapping his fingers against the bulge in your neck. You finally get a chance to breathe through your nose.

Sukuna finger fucks you a little bit more, scraping his nails uncomfortably against the walls of your cunt. When he pulls them out, they are soaked and he licks his fingers clean, humming at the taste.

He positions himself at your entrance and pushes in without stopping. Your pained moan is muffled by the sound of Gojo's balls hitting your forehead but Sukuna still hears it and mutters out a quick apology as he goes slower. "Fu-ah~, what happened to breaking them?" Gojo said mockingly.

Sukuna glares before snapping his hips forward, sheathing himself completely inside of you. Your nails dug into Gojo's skin, and his hips stutterd as he moaned. Sukuna grips your chests and uses them for momentum as he opens you up on his dick. "For someone that was so reluctant, you sure are fucking wet down here."

Sukuna uses his thumb to circle your clit and your hips raised unapologetically from the shocks of pleasure. "Filthy little human." Sukuna laughed as he continued to play with your swollen clit.

Mixed with your lack of property oxygen, the boys running to your head, and the two sources of pleasure, your thighs shake and you cum around Sukuna's dick. He laughs darkly, speeding up his thrusts as he holds your limp legs in the air. "Yes, cum again. I want to feel your pathetic pussy squeeze my dick."

Gojo had stilled and was breathing heavily as he watched Sukuna disappear inside of you. "My turn." His still hard cock slips out of your mouth and you find yourself thrown into a coughing fit.

Sukuna begrudgingly switches spots with Gojo but takes joy in holding your head as he uses your mouth like a fleshlight. "Fuuuuuck. Perfect little mouth for me. I want you to swallow my cum wench!" You whined as Gojo pushes his cock inside of you.

It was longer than Sukuna's and you could already feel the soreness as the tip grazed against your cervix. Gojo adjusts your legs to rest on his shoulders as he folds you over.

The sensations are entirely too much as air is pushed out of you from the restricting position. The sensitive walls of your cunt both sucked and pushed Gojo's cock as he delivered deliberately slow strokes. "So messy down here." Gojo uses the palm of his hand to quickly swish at your clit.

Your brown legs tremble around your head and Sukuna uses this chance to grab your feet as leverage.

By now, your mouth had completely gone slack as he abused your throat, completely ignoring the scrape of your teeth around his shaft. "Fuck I'm gonna cum." Sukuna groans, speeding up. Gojo speeds up as well, "Shit me too, you better cum with me you two-faced bastard.!"

You grip the sheets for dear life and between you and me, you blacked out as the two filled your holes with milky cum. The tangling of body's unraveled and rested together as you all came down from your highs.

Well the boys did, you fell asleep.

They tuck you into the bed after Gojo changed the sheets. "So you said you can keep her in your zone?" Gojo nodded as he did his best to put your 4c hair into braids.

"Yeah, but what are we gonna do if she asks to go home." Sukuna smiled as he looked at his nails. Sinister later fills the empty abyss of Gojo's zone and the man looked boredly as Sukuna laughed.

"She can't go somewhere that no longer exists."

[that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick]

I've been so excited to write for the Mystic Messenger Reverse Big Bang 2021 (go check out other amazing fics and art in the collection at @mysme-rbb), and it's the first fanfic/art event I've participated in! @madiebelleadventures and I teamed up to brainstorm this beast, so her art is at the very end (because I ain't spoilin nothin)!

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Rating: T

Word Count: 5.1k

Summary: One day after the end of a work week, Vanderwood surprises MC with some husband-wife baking time—with a twist. Inspired by his agent training, he suggests that they bake as a team but have MC blindfolded. In order to make a cake that's actually edible, she must follow his directions to the letter. All that's left after that is chaos, banter, and spouse-flustering. And figuring out how to actually make a cake.

A/N: Fyi MC is definitely more of her own character than a reader-insert on this one. Also as per usual with me, I headcanon Vanderwood as British, so I tried heavily to align his phrasing accordingly, despite being an American myself. Enjoy seeing exactly how much fluff I can possibly cram into 5k words!

MC sighed happily at the feeling of the wind in her hair as she drove home from work one Friday evening. Windows down, jacket off, music blasting—the air itself felt like freedom. She had nothing against her job—in fact, she enjoyed it for the most part. She prided herself in a job well done, she liked being able to manage a team of her own, and the paycheck and benefits were good. Nothing extravagant, of course, but enough to comfortably support a couple newlyweds.

And that was the real reason MC nearly jumped out the door every day when everything wrapped up at the office. Who wouldn't, with a husband as unfairly hot as Vanderwood? Completely unfair how he could make leopard print and what was practically a mullet actually look attractive. Thank goodness his fashion sense had mellowed out over time, if only a little bit. With Vanderwood's past being what it was, they had mutually come to the conclusion that it would be best for their well-being if he stayed at their apartment during the day to keep the household running. He was very particular about how he cooked, cleaned, and did the laundry, and he handled their finances conscientiously and precisely. Admittedly, she did have to occasionally remind him that as sleek as that new top-of-the-line taser was, there was no real need for it, but that was just part of her husband's charm.

And boy, was he charming.

She truly couldn't wait to get home, past this rush hour traffic. She'd get home and be pulled in for a deep kiss moments after walking in the door. Maybe he'd slip a gentle but insistent hand into her hair. Maybe they'd take it a little further. Or a lot further.

"HOLY FUDGE NUGGETS ON BACON ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME???"

MC swerved to avoid a collision and waited for her heartbeat to settle down again. There was no freaking way she was going to die in some stupid car wreck before their date tonight. A surprise, he'd said. No matter how hard she'd tried to weasel more out of him, he wouldn’t bend. Darn agent training. Good thing it wouldn't be a surprise for much longer. Within minutes, the streets got smaller and quieter as she neared her apartment building. Another minute, and she flung open the apartment door and leapt on her husband.

MC's fantasies were soon replaced by an even better reality when Vanderwood's lips landed on hers. Kissing back enthusiastically, MC wrapped her arms around his middle so tight that a less sturdy man would be coughing for air. Vanderwood snatched her keys and purse and hung them by the doorway, never breaking his focus for a second. His kisses grew slower, but no less fervent, as he smoothed her wind-strewn hair. Eventually, their lips reluctantly parted, and MC broke the silence.

"How did I manage to snag the best kisser on earth on top of marrying the most insanely attractive man on earth?"

Vanderwood smirked. "Good taste, I guess." He kissed her once more soundly for good measure.

"Maybe. Will my insanely attractive husband tell me what our surprise date is now?"

"Perhaps."

"No perhapses! I've been dying waiting!"

"Very well. Start by changing your clothes, because I am not scrubbing stains out of your good work clothes."

"Do I otherwise have to wear anything in particular? That's not a lot to go off of."

"Doesn't matter to me. Now go change before I do the job myself."

"I wouldn't complain."

"This is not that kind of date! Go!"

"Fine, Sir Panties-in-a-bunch."

MC went to the bedroom and took stock of her clothing options. She had to choose something practical that could be easily washed, but she still wanted to look a little cute. After all, it was a date. It was a tough balance to strike. Eh, she could always stick an apron or an old shirt over it. She grabbed her oversized paint shirt just in case before snagging a light pink shirt. Now for the bottoms. She debated on a simple skirt, but decided to go for it. After all, if it didn't fit with Vanderwood's plans, he would tell her. MC changed quickly and weaved her hair into a side braid, slipping a tendril out on each side to frame her face. Mirror-MC nodded in approval. Time to see what on earth her husband had been planning.

She cracked open the door and peeked through before skipping over to Vanderwood, who had made himself comfortable on the couch. His amber eyes widened in interest.

"You have no business looking this pretty for a baking date."

MC grinned. "Ha! I did get it out of you! A baking date sounds cute. What made you think of that? Are you just really getting into the whole house husband gig?"

"It was my agent training, actually." Seeing the puzzled look on his wife's face, Vanderwood continued, "There's a bit of a twist to it, you see. I will hardly be doing any of the actual baking. You, my dear, on the other hand, will be completely blindfolded. You will have to follow my instructions explicitly, or else the result will be completely inedible."

"I still fail to see how the setup doesn't sound like 'that kind of date', but it sounds like fun! What does this have to do with your agent training, though?"

"Various exercises used similar techniques. Many times in the field, we had to follow orders to the letter with no questions asked if we wanted to make it out in one piece. We also did training to be able to operate blindly or in the dark if our vision was compromised. But none of it was as enjoyable as watching a beautiful woman bake a cake by pure trust."

"You're such a flatterer. Keep it coming," MC smirked.

"At least get into the kitchen first," Vanderwood said, handing her a blindfold that looked suspiciously like his nap mask.

"Okay, but if you don't want me in the kitchen until I'm blindfolded, you're gonna have to get my apron yourself."

"I thought I was the one giving out orders tonight?"

"A girl's gotta get her kicks somewhere."

"Such a docile wife I have. Never difficult, never demanding."

"You think it's sexy. Don't even try to deny it."

"I would have filed for immediate divorce if the description 'docile' actually fit you." He stepped into the kitchen and emerged a moment later with the apron. MC slipped it on and, after ducking briefly into the bathroom to wash her hands, covered her eyes with the blindfold.

"I'm at your mercy now. Don't abuse that privilege."

He materialized behind her, winding his arms around her waist. "I wouldn't dream of it," he murmured into her ear before attacking her stomach. MC burst into uncontrollable giggles.

"I swear—!" she giggled "—I swear I'm going to punch the living daylights out of you!"

"You're certainly welcome to try. You know I wouldn't even feel it."

"But I could try. How am I supposed to trust you to give me decent directions to bake whatever the heck we're making if I can't even trust you not to tickle me?"

"You don't. That's the thrill of it."

"You'd better have me make something actually edible for all our trouble."

"That all depends on how well you follow my instructions."

"And how decent your instructions are. Let's not forget that tiny detail," she reminded.

"Hmm, we'll see," The smile was evident in his voice. "Now if we're going to start, we need to go ahead and do it."

"Probably."

He guided MC by her upper arms into the narrow kitchen.

"Fortunately," he said, halting and holding her in place, "we're only baking a cake and not an entire meal, so it won't take an eternity."

"I sure hope not! It's pizza night and I'm already a little hungry!"

He wound his hands around his wife's waist, lightly patting her stomach. "Well, the faster we start, the faster we can eat. I've already laid everything out for you as best I can, so you just have to follow my directions, all right, love?"

"Got it."

"All right, can you feel the worktop?" A nod. "Raise your right hand just a bit...and over…now grab the box with the cake mix, because heaven knows neither of us knows or cares enough to make it from scratch. Got it? Now open it up. The mixing bowl is straight to the left. Go ahead and pour it in."

"Just so you know, if I spill anything, you're the one taking responsibility."

"And why is that, darling?" Vanderwood asked, feigning shock.

"Because you're the one who had this idea in the first place! Not to mention if I make a mess it’s because of your faulty directions."

Unfortunately, MC failed to prove her point, pouring the mix into the bowl and barely spilling a few crumbs.

"Looks like we may not have to worry about that," Vanderwood smirked.

"You have met me, right? You know something's going to get spilled, right?"

Ignoring her, he moved the empty box toward the back and continued, "The milk should be right around where the cake mix was, if you can remember where you just were. The measuring jug is right next to it. Do you think you can pour it in correctly?"

"We'll see, now won't we?"

"There you go. Just try to take it slowly, just in case, and stop when I say so."

MC obeyed, gradually tilting the milk jug until a thin stream hit the center of the measuring cup.

"Brilliant! Now careful, careful, slightly to the left...that's it! Now slow down...almost done...stop!" He kissed her cheek. "That was amazing. Now pour it into the bowl."

MC felt around for the mixing bowl again. She managed to find it and poured in the milk. "Where's the cap for the milk jug?"

"Hm...where did it go? Oh, there it is. Right by the sink."

She batted at the air around her right side to find the inside of the sink. Instead, her hand bumped the side of the milk jug. Vanderwood's hand shot out to catch it, but a small puddle had already sloshed onto the counter. MC's hand shot up to take off the blindfold, but Vanderwood caught her wrist first. She sighed.

"Vandy, give it to me straight. How bad is it?"

"Not bad at all. I caught it before much got out. Stay put for a moment while I wipe it up so it doesn't start to smell or dry up."

"Not to say I told you, but I definitely told you."

Her husband stuck out his tongue at her—one of the few ways he had begun to let himself be childish lately. Then the obvious dawned on him. "I'm sticking out my tongue. I thought you ought to know that."

"Crucial information. Are you done yet?"

"Yep. You ready to get your hands a little dirty?"

"Isn't that expected in all this?"

"That's probably a large part of why you demanded an apron first, yes."

"You would be right about that, also yes. And you're so dramatic. I did not demand."

"Up to interpretation. Reach up to the left of the mixing bowl and just grab it off the plate and toss it in."

As instructed, MC reached over and let out a tiny shriek when her hand came into contact with the soft butter. Vanderwood guffawed.

"I was waiting for that."

MC gasped. "You did this on purpose!" She flung the butter into the bowl with an extra dash of vindictiveness.

"Maybe so. I like hearing your reactions," he purred.

"Don't try to be all smooth when you're being a twit. It doesn't suit you," MC sniffed, then muttered under her breath, "actually it totally works for you but it doesn't make me less ticked at you."

"By the way, don't bother trying to wash your hands just yet. The next part is probably going to be the messiest. I'll go get the bin so it'll be close by for you."

"Appreciated. What's the next part?"

"Eggs."

"Yikes, okay. That's why I needed the trash can, then. And where are the eggs?"

"To your left. You're going to need four of them. I read somewhere that adding an extra egg makes it better, hypothetically."

"You're the one giving the instructions."

"Alright, the bin is to your left, whenever you're ready."

"I could hear the thunk when you set it down, but thank you," MC said wryly.

"I live to serve."

There was silence for a moment as MC cracked the first egg into the bowl, and a soft smile rose on her face like the dawn. "Not anymore, you don't. I thank God every day that you and Saeyoung were able to free yourselves from the agency. I never could have forgotten you even if you hadn't, but I never would have known the immense joy I've gotten to have by being your wife." She sniffed, then laughed. "Sorry for being so sentimental all of a sudden, I don't know what got into me. It's just that knowing how many things could have gotten between us makes me that much more grateful for what we have."

"Ah!" Vanderwood shot a hand out to correct the second egg's trajectory into the mixing bowl.

"Oops, thank you."

"No problem, love. We're a team." He settled against her back, rubbing her arms lightly and placing a tender kiss on her cheek. "And never feel sorry for your so-called sentimentality. In fact, I really think you hold back sometimes. You shouldn't. I know that I used to scoff at these things, but locking out your emotions for job after job really takes a toll on a man. The agency had no room for love of any sort, and I've long come to the realization that every person is hardwired to desire love of one kind or another. I know I'm still unlearning all of my coping mechanisms, and I know I'm still sharp with some people, but with you?" He smoothed a hair back from her face. "I'll take whatever love you can give me."

She cracked the third egg into the bowl and threw out the shell. "I always knew you could be a softie, very deep down. I'm just glad that I get to be the one to see it."

After the fourth egg was in the bowl, Vanderwood directed, "Okay, time to wash up. The next thing is mixing for two minutes. While I love you, I do not trust you to use an electric mixer while blindfolded, so you're going to use a whisk for that job."

"I suppose that's fair. Can you put away the trash can while I wash my hands?"

"Already on it."

"Where's the whisk, again?"

"I kind of put it toward the back, so either be careful or wait for me to move a few things."

"Oh, I've got it. Don't worry," MC waved a hand in dismissal and groped around for the whisk, but her arm was a bit too low, and she dipped her clothed elbow in the plate where the butter had been. She sighed. "What did I just decorate my elbow with?"

"Butter. Try it. It might be tasty," he teased.

"Come on, Vandy, this is not the time. Help me get it off before it soaks in too much."

"Alright, alright, I just had to pick on you a little bit for not listening to me." He carefully scooped off the top layer of the butter with a paper towel before trying to absorb the rest. "I'm going to roll up your sleeves a bit more so that this hopefully won't happen again."

"Well, not until I slosh half the cake out of this bowl trying and failing to mix it."

"You'll be fine. Just stick to mixing the center and bringing the outside of it toward the center so everything gets mixed. But mix it well and mix it fast. The timer starts...now!"

MC held the bowl against her stomach to steady it while she mixed the batter vigorously. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one trying to mix furiously while keeping it all in the bowl on top of being blindfolded!"

"Calm down, you're doing great. A couple drips, maybe, but it's staying in."

"So far, anyway. But that's good, I guess."

"No guessing. It's quite good." Vanderwood leaned against the counter. "We've got a minute and a half to kill. Should I spend it telling you how you look right now?"

"Oh gosh, do I even want to know?"

He shook his head in near disbelief, smiling. "Magnetic. Adorable. More delicious than the cake we're making."

MC cackled. "You cannot be serious. I've got to be a mess right now."

"You act as if that's a contradiction. It's the mess that makes you more beautiful. Is every single hair of yours in place? No. But they fall around your face in the most delicately beautiful way. Even the places where the ingredients got smudged on you somehow add to your charm." He leaned in so that his lips touched her ear, his voice lowering to a gravelly timbre. "Did you know that your cheeks are all rosy from the effort you're putting into stirring? It's unbelievably attractive. And the way your lips press together when you're concentrating? It makes me want to kiss them apart. In fact—"

"Vanderwood, how much time is left?" MC interrupted, suppressing a vivid blush and a shiver.

"Our entire lives," he said, happily ignoring the real question.

"The timer, Vanderwood. How much is left on the timer?"

The sound of the timer going off answered the question for him. "None," he grinned. "I'll go spray the cake pan while you rest for a moment. You've earned it."

She exhaled, set the mixing bowl aside, and stretched. Then a thought made her panic. "Vandy, we forgot to preheat the oven."

He held her face in his hands. "MC. Darling. Breathe. I set the oven when I grabbed the apron."

Her breathing gradually slowed. "Sorry, love. I'm just really hungry and kind of tired and I think not being able to see is doing weird things to my brain and you kind of flustered me a minute ago with what you were saying and I'm sorry, I—" her voice cracked, but Vanderwood cut her off and held her close.

"Hey...hey...you're alright. There's nothing to be sorry about. I kept you going after a long day of work without feeding you first. I should have known better." He smoothed her hair and tucked it into her braid. "I'll tell you what. How about we get this cake in the oven and then order some pizza and watch another episode of Cucumber Fish?"

MC sniffled and hummed in agreement. Vanderwood loosened his hold around her and gently brought her hands to the bowl again before grabbing the cake pan. "Okay, all you've got to do now is pour it into the pan that I've put just to the left of the bowl. Just take it nice and easy. There you go. Perfect. You're almost done. Now let me get a spatula to scoop the last of it out." After he finished, he slid the cake pan into the oven and started the timer. "There. All done." He slipped the mask off her eyes and gave her a peck on the lips as she blinked to adjust to the light. "I'll clean all this up, alright? Go ahead and relax on the sofa. You can order the pizza and get Cucumber Fish queued up while I finish up in here."

"Okay," she murmured. Another peck, and she curled up on the couch. She pulled out her phone to order the pizza and smiled at the notifications she'd gotten from the RFA chatroom. They were up to their normal antics again. Hopefully, Saeyoung wouldn't exasperate Saeran too much with his crazy propositions. But there was nothing she could do about that, and she was starving and in desperate need of pizza. Once it was ordered, she turned on the TV and selected the episode, making sure to let it run past the ads before pausing it.

After Vanderwood joined her on the couch, the next forty-five minutes was filled with lots of cuddling and pizza devouring, more kissing than watching the show, a few glances at the cake's progress, an agreement to actually watch the episode while they ate the cake, and several minutes of cooling time after the cake was removed from the oven. Vanderwood emerged from the kitchen after a few minutes of setting up to decorate.

"Are you sure you want to put on the mask again?" he asked. "I don't want it to mess with your head like it did last time."

"I'll be fine, babe. I'm pretty sure it was like that last time just because I was starving."

"Are you positive?"

"Yes."

"If you say so. Go ahead and get them on, then," he said, handing MC the apron and mask.

"Just make sure to lead me into the kitchen again."

"Hmm, we'll see."

"We'll see?" she repeated, but shrieked soon after when she no longer felt the ground beneath her feet. Vanderwood had scooped her up to carry her into the kitchen bridal-style and sank his lips against hers with intentionality. He bumped into the counter but managed to avoid any damage to his wife. He deposited one last kiss on her lips before setting her down.

"What have you done to me, woman? Years and years of agent skills, undone in a moment. If it were anything or anyone else, I never would have bumped into that worktop. But when it's you kissing me, you're the only thing that exists." He grinned. "It's a shame, really. I thought my dexterity was an impressive skill, but I don't even have that anymore, it seems."

"Shame indeed," MC parroted, trying to steal another kiss from his lips and stealing one from his nostrils instead. She made a face, causing Vanderwood to laugh.

"Well, at least I still have the ability to order you around." MC smacked him in response, and he continued, "Alright, alright, let's get to it then. This is where it'll get really interesting, since decorating requires more precision. Which, no offense, is a skill you don't have, since you're not exactly used to being blind."

"Now wait just a—okay, I can't argue that," MC sighed. He placed a spatula in one hand and a jar of frosting in her other.

"Turn around. Can you find where the cake is?"

"Ye—wait, Vandy! I thought you said you cleaned up!"

"I did…sort of." Before she could protest, he interjected, "I wiped the worktop! I just pushed all the dishes to one side so we could put all of it in the dishwasher at once when we were done!" He added with a mumble, "I just wanted to get back to you."

"You think you can charm your way out of anything," MC responded airily. "Well, you're right." She squared up as best she could with a frosting jar in hand. "I found the cake. I'll try to do my best."

"Well, in this part, I won't let you go completely solo. I can rotate the cake for you as you go, if you want."

"Please."

MC scooped a large helping of frosting from the jar and started spreading around the perimeter. Her spatula made a slight detour for a moment to donate some frosting to the top of the cake, and Vanderwood halted and reversed his rotation slightly to avoid confusion. A few seconds later, she went for another, slightly smaller, scoop to finish frosting the circumference of the cake. Another scoop, added to the deposit from the first, finished off the top.

"Is there a big corner around the top edge? Or any dry spots?" she asked.

"Just a slight corner. Grab a little bit more frosting to round it off a bit and thicken the top."

She did as directed while he helped rotate, and stepped back. "Better?"

"Much better. Maybe we can add a little artistic touch by making some...what do you call them? Swoops? Around the sides from the top?"

"Sounds great. You're definitely going to have to help me, though."

"Alright, I'll rotate again and stop you when you're done. Then you can smooth off the top edge again quick."

Six slightly lopsided arcs later, he stepped back for a moment, observing. "This is certainly not the prettiest cake I've seen, but it all adds to the fun, yeah?"

"I guess," she laughed.

"Now here's the part that'll really get a laugh when you take off the blindfold. I've got a bowl over here with some frosting for smaller decorating, and you get to pick the food coloring that goes in it."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes," he snickered while guiding her over to a trio of colored bottles that she couldn't discern. "Take your pick," he said cheerily. MC gingerly selected one, and he suppressed a snort poorly. "Excellent choice!"

MC groaned. "I'm going to regret all my life choices, aren't I?"

"Of course not! Only your decision to marry me."

"Hey." She squeezed his wrist. "I could never regret that."

"You might reevaluate that statement when you take off the blindfold and see the cake. Or at least my ugly mug."

"Vanderwood. Don't you even start with me. You're so hot that if we were working with chocolate instead of a cake, we wouldn't need the microwave to melt it."

"You're so hot that the beach would need sunblock instead of you."

"You're so hot that the sun goes to you when it needs to warm up."

They collapsed against each other, gasping for air. Vanderwood caught his breath first. "Let's get this food coloring in the bowl, shall we? The spoon and frosting are already in it. All you have to do is put a few drops in and stir until I say so. The bowl's on your left."

"As you wish," she said as she did so.

After a few moments, he spoke. "That's enough. Let me get you back over to the cake, and I'll get the frosting in the decorating bag. Which is really just an ordinary plastic bag, but I did pick up some cheap decorating tips when I got the ingredients."

"Splendid. How am I going to decorate, though? Even if I could see, I don't know the first thing about cake decorating. Oh yeah, and I can't see."

"Don't get your 'panties in a bunch,' as you like to tell me so often. I'll do it with you this time."

"But you don't know how to decorate cakes, either!"

"Ah-ah-ah!” he chided. “Do you trust me or not?"

"Not particularly."

"Hey!"

"But! We should just go ahead and do it anyway, because even though neither of us knows what we're doing, we're the only ones in this apartment who can. And the frosting smells too good not to eat soon."

"That's my girl." Vanderwood curled around her. He molded one hand around hers and slid the other over her stomach. As they formed a few swirls on the top, he murmured, "We did this whole thing together. How impressive is that? Was it as fun for you as it was for me?"

MC smiled. "Of course it was. I know I got a little hangry for a bit there, but I know how much thought you put into this. None of my old deadbeat ex-boyfriends ever would have cared so much, let alone shown it. These are the things that make me love you that much more."

"I never experienced any permanent love until you showed it to me. And it's been so...world-altering—that I've been trying to wrap my head around it ever since. I still can't. But I swear I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to give you the same love you've given me. I certainly don't deserve it, after the things I've done. But you do. You deserve all the happiness a person can have."

MC paused and blushed slightly. "Vandy…" She exhaled. "We've gone over this whole 'not deserving it' thing. Whether you deserve it or not doesn't matter. To me, what matters is your heart. You have such a beautiful heart, Vandy. I love the kind of man you've become. I've seen you strive every day to be better than you were the day before, and that is so inspiring."

"Well, whether or not I deserve happiness, I would choose to be happy every day if my being happy made you happy." He squeezed her hip affectionately and pulled her in for a tender kiss.

"It would." She kissed him back. They added one last swirl and a border before they set down the bag of frosting. He uncurled her fingers and fiddled with her wedding ring.

"Are you ready to see it?"

"Sure."

He slipped off the blindfold, and she gasped.

"What have we done?" she exclaimed as her laughing grew louder by the second.

"Whatever do you mean, dear?" Vanderwood asked, feigning ignorance.

"The cake is bright flaming orange, Vandy!" She let out a snort, then covered her face. "Hey, wait! All the food coloring was the same color too, you little twit!"

He shrugged innocently. MC sputtered. "Nuh-uh. Don't you shrug at me, mister. Saeyoung has rubbed off on you way too much."

"Has not."

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, maybe the tiniest bit."

"Uh huh, that's what I thought. Now are you as ready as I am to eat this cake and watch Cucumber Fish?"

"Let me take a picture first. And another one with you in it? You look so lovely, I can't not have one with you in it."

She tried desperately to keep a frown on her face as he snapped a picture but couldn't quite hold back the quirk at the corner of her mouth. He cut a slice for each of them and handed one to her. He curled the paper plate around his slice, and she did likewise. They looked each other in the eyes, both knowing exactly what would come next. Vanderwood solidified his stance. "Ready...steady...GO!" The couple raced to the living room and took a running jump onto the couch, ready for the wonderful night ahead.

[punkscowardschampions]

Jimmy & Janis

Jimmy: Alright Janis: Not bad, boy Janis: you? Jimmy: Happy to be at work. Says it Jimmy: 🎻🎻🎻 full orchestra Janis: 😨 Christ Janis: assuming you're not just buzzin' to see your fave GILFs, what's the drama? Jimmy: 3 guesses, mate Jimmy: 1 clue, he's a top dickhead Janis: he's a child and you're rude Janis: jk bobs Janis: my number one fan, how's tricks Jimmy: he's #buzzing that we're back to being #goals like Jimmy: expects me to get the cake and bunting in every time he gets a new lass through the door though Janis: obvs its a competition and you ain't trying hard enough Janis: can't win though, cass said you were bringing him down before so what's he want like Jimmy: I've already won, me. Sorry dad but there's the reality Jimmy: Such a twat Jimmy: If you wanted me to date the other twin it's too late to register your vote Janis: Forreal Janis: the LDR might not last but can't be banking on it now Jimmy: Every time he pops his head round me door I keep thinking he's gonna wheel out my ex Jimmy: Having driven back up north to remind me of what I loved and lost Janis: Ha Janis: I mean, not the girl you need to be looking for, wanna get real about it Jimmy: Can't be getting real, can he? Jimmy: Unless its about me then he's gonna fill his boots Janis: What would he know about it Janis: 'less you're doing his job, when's he ever been arsed Jimmy: always time for a bit of father son criticism naturally Jimmy: makes the paid slog go with more of a swing Janis: what a prick Janis: wanna fake breakup? Jimmy: No Jimmy: Why should he get what he wants Janis: Shouldn't but idc about him Janis: if it gets him off your back then don't mind Jimmy: experience knows its not that easy Jimmy: gonna be something most days Jimmy: I packed a bag so many times when you were away only to figure I had nowhere I could actually go Jimmy: Or especially take Cass and Bobs along to Jimmy: nowt to do but unpack it again Janis: It's shit, babe Janis: you'll have somewhere one day but for now Janis: you wanna go somewhere after work Jimmy: I do Jimmy: only thing getting through this shift was reckoning you'd say that Jimmy: and needing money to get far Janis: 'course Janis: don't count as running if you come too right Jimmy: No problems with us both legging it Jimmy: as long as I can keep up 🚭 Janis: good, be shit if i fucked up my streak already, like Janis: can't be that loser Janis: can but try, mate Jimmy: 💪😎🏆 Jimmy: Challenge accepted as many times as it gets laid down Jimmy: 👌 Janis: stoptober the real challenge 😏😂 Jimmy: Funny Janis: I know Janis: s'been said Jimmy: But not the best track record at getting Twix to not do things Jimmy: So I'd need a better trainer if you were serious Janis: 😮 Janis: How dare you Janis: maybe I don't want her to stop Janis: clearly, I am that cunt, fucking with you and yours for the craic Jimmy: Life and times according to Pops Jimmy: As you said, what does he know Jimmy: you're just a piss poor trainer. Unlucky like Janis: 🖕 Janis: got you whipped like Jimmy: 😏 Jimmy: Likely story Janis: okay come thru with that denial Jimmy: It's genetic, mate Jimmy: Clearly foolproof Jimmy: 😒 Janis: Same Janis: awks when they're just bonding us further Jimmy: not mad about it Janis: he will be Janis: don't think any of mine are proper haters Janis: pablo, maybe but our bad Jimmy: and he's got no taste as shown for a full fortnight when those spanish lasses were here Jimmy: so if he don't like me I'm alright with it Janis: honestly 🙄 he's so...let's not even go there Janis: sure about that? Janis: idk if your ego can hack it, personally Jimmy: don't tar me with your brush, like Janis: just saying Janis: know it 💔 when you aren't fave Janis: i'm more than used to it, thanks mr. t Janis: needed cutting down, like 😜 Jimmy: I am where it matters Jimmy: Mr Lucas come through Janis: 😂 Janis: surprised he didn't find a reason to chaperone Janis: like bitch you ain't languages Jimmy: I bet he tried his hardest Jimmy: Would've def found a way to swing it if they'd sent you to a Spanish location with a load of beaches and pools Janis: regret hitting so hard i gotta seduce him to add to the shitheap Janis: 😬 Jimmy: Was there an equivalent when you were over there or is he in a league of his own 💘 Jimmy: Might dedicate my next artsy endeavor to him get those top marks Janis: truly one of a kind Janis: suck up Janis: not bitter i'm being replaced or nowt Jimmy: only in his dreams am I Jimmy: 💕 Janis: 🤢 shut uppppppp Jimmy: fancy helping me with the project yourself then? Jimmy: Less time on my knees and more in front of a lens Janis: what you doing Jimmy: Still in the planning stages cause my POV shifted from 💔 back to 💕 Jimmy: But we aren't busy and I've got plenty of napkins here to figure it out with Janis: Your teach is welcome, saving her from your angst 😉 Janis: cool though, help how i can Jimmy: And me from getting the piss taken by the rest of the class Jimmy: #blessed Jimmy: On the subject of angst though, how's Gracie? Janis: You know they'd lap that shit up Janis: basic bitches i 👀 you Janis: She's alright, he's as highkey so they're making it work Jimmy: Cute Jimmy: Better not be coming for our brand and fans 👀 her Janis: No danger Janis: even if I've pulled a Sinead and you're past your prime Janis: still got it, kids Jimmy: 😂 Jimmy: still a decent muse, you Janis: Oh you Janis: not doing nude for free Janis: 😏 Jimmy: Alright Jimmy: I won't bin the job off yet then Janis: Probably don't Janis: shit fit your dad would have if nothing else Jimmy: nothing he does, says or thinks has any impact on me, don't worry Janis: 👍 like Janis: but if you put that on a phonecase the flat whites would buy it, just FYI Jimmy: Anything for a good earner Jimmy: Need petrol never mind them pricey nudes of yours Janis joined the chat 101 minutes ago Janis: listen, i can go twos on the petrol but i can't budge with the nudes, like Jimmy: 👍 Jimmy: stick to your guns, mate Janis: get disowned by rio if i did it fo free Jimmy: We can't have that. You're the one with the decent fam Janis: Let's not get carried away Janis: they don't actively hate you, s'a start but they aren't the fucking... Janis: I'd say waltons but like Janis: was that not the goal Jimmy: 😂 Jimmy: Your nan started something and your ma was like, challenge accepted Jimmy: Can't fault her for it Janis: Competetive Janis: least I got enough sibs I don't need to come for the title next, like Jimmy: Gotta go the other way and get a different one, like Janis: that's the plan Janis: like I have one but you know Jimmy: We both want to get out of here. Done Janis: True Janis: Hold you to it Jimmy: Alright Janis: even if you're like married with kids Janis: homewrecking that shit 😂 deals a deal mate Jimmy: Who'd wanna marry this dickhead? Jimmy: The in-laws are so offputting an all Jimmy: You've got nowt to worry about Janis: Glad Janis: though I think you're alright, for the record Jimmy: 😎 Jimmy: You aren't too bad yourself Janis: soppy prick Jimmy: cute dickhead Janis: don't take up poetry Janis: words aren't your strongsuit, also you'd be more unbearable so Jimmy: told you before, strong silent type, me Janis: yeah, i know Janis: woulda ignored me for life Jimmy: You think? Janis: Yeah Janis: 😶 like Jimmy: not THAT strong, mate Janis: 💪 never tell your fans, like Jimmy: They probably know Janis: reckon? Jimmy: Is there anything they reckon they don't Janis: bunch of twats Janis: why's there no one decent 'round here Jimmy: Offensive Janis: You don't count Janis: ain't from 'round here, are you boy Jimmy: But I'm still stuck here for a bit Janis: I know Janis: sure there's nothing worse than the couple who only ever hang together Janis: #sooocringe #judgingyou Jimmy: Can't raise this 🐶 alone Jimmy: Sorry Janis: yeah, she ain't my only friend Janis: she's my fur baby Janis: 🤢 Jimmy: #socringe #actuallyjudgingyounowthough Janis: shut up you started it 😂 Jimmy: you gonna finish it then? Janis: too soon 😉 Jimmy: 😏 Janis: such a dick Janis: hardly surprising we're stuck with each other Jimmy: hardly gutting either like Janis: 🤷 had worse Jimmy: Me too Jimmy: Sorry to slander your fave, dad but Janis: Distance ain't made the heart grow fonder? Janis: awks, don't tell Gracie Jimmy: Only if I feel like being a dick Jimmy: So might do Janis: please do Janis: having to be uncharacteristically nice atm Jimmy: Done then Jimmy: If you wanna be uncharacteristically nice to me I'm due a break soon Janis: Hmm Janis: tough ask Janis: see if I've got it in me, like Jimmy: 👌 Jimmy: Keep me informed of your process, like Janis: fucking perv Jimmy: 😇 Jimmy: keep that to yourself, got fans to think of Janis: that i can do Jimmy: Alright Jimmy: Good Janis: yeah Janis: not like i got ulterior motives of my own Jimmy: Obviously not Janis: 😇 Janis: never believe you anyway Jimmy: I can be convincing when I want though Janis: prove it Jimmy: get yourself over here and I will Janis: okay Janis: really make the most of those 15 minutes Jimmy: Done deal Janis: did i tell you i missed you Jimmy: yeah but I don't mind hearing it a second time Jimmy: or third Jimmy: or as many times as you want to tell me Janis: ambitious Janis: see how many we can fit in Jimmy: challenge accepted Janis: 🥇 Jimmy: if I told you I want you I'll say it again Janis: still feels unreal so Janis: take it Jimmy: You're gonna feel how real it is, don't worry Janis: fucking hell Janis: rude of the real world to exist and take you from me Jimmy: I won't go back Jimmy: Like I care Janis: You gotta Janis: this is how addictions start 😏 Janis: think of the plan Jimmy: Damn Jimmy: Alright Janis: I know, buzzkill Jimmy: What are you doing tonight? Janis: Fuck all unless you gonna change that Jimmy: We'll make the most of your drive idea Jimmy: Find somewhere we can be alone for longer than 15 minutes Janis: Good 'cos I need you Jimmy: I need you too Janis: How stupid, 16 years without it and I was chillin' Janis: now, any time I'm not with you I'm frustrated as fuck 😣 Jimmy: 🥇 Jimmy: that's the only victory I proper want Janis: you got it Janis: and me Jimmy: I love you Janis: I love you

[punkscowardschampions]

Grace & Janis

Little Twin Times

Grace: It's not too late to change your mind! Get dad to bring you xxx Grace: 👍💜💭 Janis: Nah, you're all good, I'm going out to play footie with lads from down the road after tea Janis: You having fun? Grace: 😮😈 WHICH LADS??! Grace: of course! it's the best! 🙌 Name a film and we've got it ready to watch Grace: her mum ordered from the posh bakery too Grace: They've got each of our names iced on so you've gotta come Janis: You know, they live in the farmhouse one along if you keep going down the lane, renovated all fancy, like but they're actually alright Janis: shit at football though 😉 Janis: s'alright, you eat mine Janis: think they use too much cream, s'not as good as Da's stuff Janis: got any horrors? Grace: EW JANIS THOSE BOYS ARE GROSS DON'T PLAY WITH THEM Grace: they always shout stuff at us they think they're so 💪😎 Grace: You always say that! You'd eat custard tarts every day and never try anything new ever! Grace: 🙄 Grace: OBVIOUSLY WE'RE NOT AMATEURS Grace: the cinema room has everything it's like being out at the poshest one you can imagine 😍 Janis: Only 'cos you act like such a drip whenever you see a boy Janis: If you shouted back instead of going all giggly and red maybe they'd not take the piss, ey? 🙄 Janis: I would if I was faced with all that pastry and cream...tastes like fusty old tissue paper 🤢 Janis: At least that'll be a laugh then Janis: Her house smells like an old lady's handbag though 😂 Grace: OMG I DO NOT! Grace: what would you know anyway you're too busy trying to BE like a gross boy to get a boyfriend Grace: such a 👽 weirdo for a sister, how and why Grace: AGAIN DUH! It is such a laugh and you're missing it Grace: for football 🙄 Grace: RUDE JAN-JAN IT DOES NOT Grace: you're just jealous of how cool her house is Janis: Yes you do, you all just nudge each other and laugh like a bunch of loonies Janis: LOL and what would you do with a boyfriend, gracie? you can't even talk to one nevermind anything else Janis: for you, maybe, i'm good where i am tah 👌 Janis: why would i be jealous of having a too large tv in a too small room and calling it a cinema Janis: they ain't even got that much money, we've probably got more, they're just snobby twats about it Janis: how cool, so cool, woooow Grace: DO NOT Grace: I can't believe you've already forgotten that Jake and two of his friends are all fighting over who gets to be my boyfriend rn so Grace: I'm gonna be a great girlfriend like in all the films excuse you Grace: ugh you're the snobby one thinking we're richer than everyone and talking about how much money everyone's got all the time Grace: what am I gonna do with you? 🙄 Janis: how buzzin you must be Janis: doesn't mean you'll know what to do Janis: s'the stuff that happens after the happily ever after you need to know, graciekins Janis: only cos she's a show-off when she's got no right to Janis: always bragging that one Janis: you just don't like it 'cos you're up her hole, like 😂 Grace: I will too! I've practiced kissing loads Grace: Just because you don't have a clue don't tell me I don't Grace: You're the showoff always trying to beat the boys ugh Grace: just brush your hair, put some gloss on and come over Grace: you'll see she is cool and you're just being salty as usual Janis: yeah, we've seen the gloss on the oranges, its manky Janis: at least eat them when you've frenched them Janis: there's no trying involved, i'm just better than all the boys 😏 Janis: no thanks, i've got plans, like i said Janis: if she's so cool why you ignoring her rn hmm Grace: YOU'RE MANKY I don't even use 🍊 thanks Grace: You think as much of yourself as the boys do it's cringey Grace: and im not even ignoring her she's setting the spa up Grace: nobody's allowed to see what's she's done until she's done it so you're wrong again there Janis: Well all the others have got fellas rn or experience under their belt so don't think they're still getting in 'practice' like its a shitty teen movie 😂 Busted Janis: soz, I'll develop an eating disorder and self-esteem issues asap Janis: oh wait, no, fuck that i'm great Janis: don't hate cos u ain't Janis: better get ur surprised face ready now, you're a shitty actress, like LiLo bad post-all the drugs Grace: It's likely you, J, you've gotten really embarrassing lately 😂 make sense why you don't wanna come out. gotta stay in with the fruit bowl Grace: Don't even joke Kirsty Dixon from number 22 had to go to the hospital loads in the summer it's so serious Grace: you're the hater on me and my friends, read the chat back if you don't believe Janis: Whatever you say, Graciepoo Janis: So? She's still a lame bitch Janis: or you gonna be her best friend now too? Janis: Last I remember, it was your pals calling her names Janis: but now she's in the hospital, you all wanna send her flowers Janis: just not chocolates, she'll be raging, like Grace: YOU'RE SO RUDE AND SOOO WRONG Grace: i know you're blinded by your jealousy but it's sad how much you have no idea what you're talking about Grace: cute but still cringey of course Janis: lol jealous of what? Grace: me having friends and you being the lone loser Janis: 😂 no Janis: firstly, your 'friends', you can keep 'em, there's a reason they were free to let you tag along and be their bitch Janis: secondly, i'm happy being alone, you're the one begging me to come hang, so nice one there 👍 Grace: I'M TRYING TO BE NICE Grace: won't next time, bitch Janis: please don't 😂 Grace: laugh it up all you want you were the one tagging along with us for ages Grace: you're not too good, you're too much of a freak now that's all Janis: yeah because wittle baby gracie doesn't want to do anything on her own Janis: don't cry about it now 😂 Grace: no i didnt want my sister to be an antisocial weirdo Grace: makes me look bad too Janis: Literally going out after tea, did you not hear? Janis: You wanna control WHO I'm friends with Janis: I've got friends, I don't want your hand-me-downs Grace: those creepy boys who want to look at you in your shorts aren't your friends saddo Janis: Your mind, Gracie 🙄 Honestly Janis: lads don't care about things like that, they wanna play footie Janis: and I have plenty of other people I hang with, not everyone wants to be in a sad lil gang Grace: now who's being a baby 😂 lads always think about stuff like that Grace: 🙄 you only think its a gang because you've made yourself unwanted Grace: whatever Jan-Jan i've got fun to have Grace: be boring Janis: They really don't, they think you're mental Janis: also a right slag 😂 Janis: sure you do 😏 laters! Grace: at least they think of me you're furniture Grace: I've got plenty of time and chances to change their mind but you're always gonna be blah Janis: lol yeah, so much chance, when i'm the one that gets to chat with them every day on the pitch and you just stand there staring and dribbling, not the ball, like 😂 Grace: 🙄 so jealous at least they know me and my friends are interested they all think you play for the other team Janis: so? I'm not the slag, I'm NOT interested Janis: how lame Grace: i'm no slag either Grace: you're just being too judgey and weird to know the difference Janis: whatever you say 👌 not me you've gotta convince otherwise, is it Grace: thank god for that 😂 Janis: eurgh don't be disgusting Janis: now who's the freak Grace: EWW THAT'S YOUR MIND I MEANT YOU'VE BEEN HIT IN THE HEAD BY THE BALL TOO MANY TIMES TO HAVE A CLUE ABOUT ANYTHING Grace: 👽 Grace: so gross Janis: no you didn't Janis: you're a shit liar Janis: why would you even say something like that Janis: you're messed up, grace Grace: WHY WOULD YOU WEIRDO Janis: I didn't Janis: you're always like this Janis: you're so fucking creepy Grace: I am not Grace: you're the gross creep Janis: get your own comebacks Janis: this is why i don't want to hang with you Janis: you're so boring Grace: get a life and stop being so disgusting all the time Grace: it's not cool its just gross Janis: I've got one Janis: and it isn't yours to ruin with your lameness Janis: ✌ Grace: I can't ruin what doesn't exist Grace: can't compete with how much of a loser you are anyway Janis: stop trying then Janis: weirdo 😂 Grace: 🙄 pathetic Janis: Oh, FYI, you forgot your jammies Janis: Rio's dropping them in so you better run unless you want her to come in and show you up for being a fake little bitch Grace: No I didn't we've all got matching here already Grace: I'm doing fine get over it Janis: That's literally the most hilarious thing I've ever heard Janis: Hope you're snapping pictures so we've all got something to laugh at Janis: 'Course you are, remember to let Jake know the # Janis: so sexy 😂 Grace: You're so obsessed it's embarrassing Grace: leave me alone Janis: I'll remember that when you're pestering me later Janis: Thanks for putting in writing Grace: Don't flatter yourself that I care Janis: So blatant Janis: N'awwwwh Grace: so annoying 🙄 Grace: go away Janis: go soak your manky feet Grace: go lose on the pitch you try hard bitch Janis: me? LOL ok Janis: trying so hard to be white and likable Janis: of which, you are neither Grace: Plenty of people like me as I am thanks Janis: oh, and who are you today? 😂 Janis: you haven't got a clue Janis: faker than your brands Grace: and you do? 😂 trying so hard to be a badass all of a sudden Grace: everyone's laughing at you Grace: not me Janis: By everyone you mean your sad little friends Janis: who no one but you gives a shit about Janis: be more mad 'cos I've ditched you FINALLY Janis: and I can actually enjoy myself Grace: go and do it then Grace: you'd have to stop talking rubbish at me first Janis: do you see me there rn? Janis: I already am Janis: laughing at you takes no time outta my day Grace: 😂 Grace: like i said, obsessed Grace: nothing better to do than be this lame Janis: like i said, bad actress Janis: i still, unfortunately, have to share a room with you, remember? i've heard you crying Janis: 😂 Grace: not everything is about you Grace: nothing is pretty much Janis: Why'd you go crying to mum about me then Janis: Now I've gotta be nicer to you Janis: What a drag Grace: you're a drag Grace: and a worse actress than you think i am Janis: I'm not pretending otherwise Janis: Its impossible to be nice to you, faking it or otherwise Grace: can't be harder than dealing with being around you Grace: too cringey for words Janis: Aww Jan-Jan please come Janis: PLEEEEEEEEEEASE ITS SO MUCH FUN Janis: now that's cringe Janis: 👍💜💭 Grace: not sorry for trying to get you to keep your invite Grace: you said you'd come and the girls were expecting you Grace: some of them wanted you to be there, because they feel sorry for you or whatever Janis: I don't recall that coming from my mouth Janis: more like YOU said I would Janis: boohoo Janis: the ONLY person who gives a shit is you Grace: blah Grace: bored of you thinking you know everything about me Grace: if you don't care then leave me alone like I already told you to do Janis: how could i not? EVERYONE knows you, right gracie? Janis: ur as transparent as a window and as shallow as a puddle Janis: doesn't take a genius babe 😂 Janis: i'm having fun, fuck off yourself if you can't deal Grace: 😂😂😂 Grace: your definition of fun is so sad Grace: I'm off to have some for real Grace: bye Janis: enjoy your spa and matching jimmies Janis: you wild one 😂