#you really gotta know who you are and what you stand for

[ayyy-pee]

Request cowboy Suguru asking reader out but she doesn’t date cowboys at all. She hates them but then she gives him a chance

hi lovely!!! thank you so much for this request! IT WAS FUNNNN!!! i'm really loving the cowboy au lately so i was SUPER excited to get something out! it's fluffy and sweet and Suguru is so down bad for reader! hope you like it! <3

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Pairing: Sheriff!Suguru Geto x Bartender!Female Reader

Genre: Western/Cowboy AU

Story Warning: fluff and trust issues and Suguru being down bad for reader. what else is new?

Artist Credit: @aransmind

“You again? I already told you no the last time you brought your tail in here.”

You wipe along the countertop of the saloon bar, trying to clean up the mess left behind by beers and shots of whiskey purchased throughout the day. It’s been a long one, and you’re ready to lock up and head home. It’s just a matter of getting this place cleaned up. This bartop is old, the stains still lingering and apparently unremovable. Just like this damn patron who just can’t seem to leave you the hell alone. 

Just like this damn patron who has slowly been worming his way under your skin, despite your best efforts to resist.

Pink lips pout from the other side of the bar, and all you can do is chuckle, shaking your head.

“I haven’t even said a thing!” A man whines. You place his normal drink in front of him, smiling when he dramatically sighs contently after he takes a sip.

You’re back to cleaning up, arranging your glasses. “I already know what’s comin’. Please, no begging today. ”

A soft laugh falls from the man’s lips as he speaks. “I ain’t a beggin’ man, ___. You gotta know that, but you make a beggar outta me every time I come in here and see ya.”

Another chuckle bubbles from your chest as you stare down the man leaning his elbow on your squeaky clean counter now. You smack his arm off with your towel, quickly swiping at the spot left behind. “You’ll just have to keep beggin’ because I said nooooo,” you sing. “And that’s not changin’.”

“But–”

“Sheriff Suguru,” you sigh, no actual annoyance in your tone, because how could you be annoyed when he stares up at you with those pretty eyes of his you’ve gotten used to seeing every day for the last few months? “You’ve been comin’ in here for how long now? Askin’ me the same question and gettin’ the same answer. Don’t you ever know when to quit?”

At this, the Sheriff takes his hat off, placing it on the bar before shooting you what you assume he thinks is his most charming smile. It doesn’t work.

“Now, Miss ___, do you think if I knew when to give up, I woulda made Sheriff?” He combs his fingers through his silky long hair that somehow never seems to hold even a speck of dirt in it, despite you both residing in the dry and dusty desert.

He’s as pretty as the first day he came in.

------

The day Suguru became Sheriff, his buddies brought him into your saloon to celebrate, ordering a shot for damn near everybody in town. Who wouldn’t want to come celebrate the new Sheriff in town? Anybody who was anybody would be there! You were just lucky that the party was happening in your bar, excited to make a good chunk of change for the night.

Did you really want to spend your entire night catering to a bunch of cowboys? Absolutely not. You’re not particularly a fan, but again, the money will make it worth it.

But it’s been almost an hour past close, you’re standing behind the bartop as the deputies are still rowdy and drinking. You don’t mind much, but you are tired and ready to go. Even the idea of making more money doesn’t feel appealing when you’re ready to just crawl into your bath and try not to fall asleep.

“Aren’t you pretty?” Suguru had slurred from across the bar, in the same seat that would soon become his regular spot. “When do ya get off work, Miss…?”

You give him your name, polite but to the point. “And soon as y’all get outta my bar,” you quip, which makes Suguru laugh.

He leans forward, close enough so you could hear him over the noise of his deputies drunkenly singing behind him. “I’ll tell ‘em all to go home right now.”

It’s an offer that’s tempting, but you don’t want to rain on their parade no matter how tired you are. The money will be good, and you need it. So you roll your eyes at playfully, as you ask teasingly. “Won’t you be lonely without all your friends?”

Your cheekiness only makes Suguru grin wider. “Yeah,” he answers quickly. “Probably will be.” He rubs his chin, closing his eyes and pulling his brows together as if he’s in deep thought. “But maybeeee,” he drags the word out. “I won’t be so lonely if a pretty lady like yourself comes home with me.”

You mimic Suguru’s earlier position, closing your eyes and rubbing your chin as you think really hard about his offer. You let the suggestion hang between the two of you, and Suguru takes this time to let his eyes take you in.

Beautiful. Smart, he thinks. Quick on your feet. Makes one hell of a drink, one of the best he’s had. Yeah, he wants you. This town is full of pretty women. He’s not without options. And while he’s already had his fill of some of them, it’s you who’s caught his eye in a way they haven’t. 

He waits for you to give him an answer. But you don’t. Not by any fault of your own. It’s because one of his deputies – Satoru – is now leaning over the bar and giving you his best flirtatious smile now that he’s caught your attention. It’s left Suguru sitting on the sidelines to watch your interaction. It looks like Satoru is getting more out of you than he is.

You’re smiling, laughing as you pour him some water, because he doesn’t drink. But minutes later, you’re still chatting with his colleague, leaned over and a little too close for his liking. You’re supposed to be talking to him, entertaining him. He’s the Sheriff now! Wayyyy more important than some damn bottom of the barrel deputy!

Okay, that’s the liquor talking. But still. He wants to be who you’re focused on.

“Hey, Miss!” Suguru calls, grabbing your attention for a brief moment. “Just waitin’ for your answer.”

He sees the way you seem to barely remember that you were speaking with him before, nodding before you lean your elbow on the bar and yell, loud enough for all to hear, “NO.”

And it…makes Suguru’s heart beat faster, makes his lips curl in a smile that he has to hide behind his whiskey glass. 

Yeah, he likes you. He thinks he’ll come by more often.

------

Months later, and this man hasn’t let up. He’s always been friendly, too friendly in your opinion. That long hair, those pretty eyes and even prettier smile are deadlier than the gun hanging in his holster. He’s a smooth talker, which you’re sure helped him move up the ranks of the town deputies. But you’ve always been resistant to his charms. Or at least, tried to be. 

Sheriff Suguru is extremely attractive, pleasant to talk to when he isn’t trying to ask you on a date, and once again, too friendly. Especially with the women in town. From what you’ve heard, he’s been leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake since he arrived. Which is exactly why you’re not interested in going out on a date with him, no matter how charming and funny you find him to be. You’ll be damned if you end up being another name on his long list of conquests. 

Besides, you’ve dated a few cowboys in your day and they’re all the same; big egos, big mouths and big fuckin’ pains in your ass. And most times not a big enough dick to back all that up. Every one of those relationships were a waste of your time and you’re not interested in wasting any more of it on yet another cowboy.

“Just one date,” Suguru begins his regular spiel. "Lemme take you out somewhere. Promise it’ll be worth it,” Suguru tells you, and you scoff. He sounds just like the rest of them.

“Doubt it.”

“You won’t let me take you out, just one time, Miss?”

“Sheriff, I’ve seen ya ‘round town. You take a lot of ladies out,” you note, watching his eyes widen just slightly. “Why not just ask one of them?”

And it’s true. You’ve seen Suguru in the town square chatting it up with any woman whose direction he looks in. He’s the most eligible bachelor in the town. Kind, handsome, a damn good shot and a damn good Sheriff. Any woman worth their salt wants him. If he were in any other occupation, you’d maybe make an exception. But he’s not. He’s a cowboy.

You don’t date cowboys.

At this Suguru stands, holding a hand up, which he waves a little frantically between you. “Now hold on! I run into a lotta ladies in town. Don’t mean I’m takin’ ‘em out anywhere.” His face is serious now, lips pressed together in a hard line. “I know I got quite a reputation, Miss ___. I ain’t stupid,” Suguru mutters. “I hear the ramblins ‘round town. Not all of ‘em are a lie,” he says honestly. And you’re just about to speak up when he cuts you off. “But, not all of ‘em are true, either.”

You swipe at a spot on the bar, the same stain you know will never come out of the wood. You don’t look at him, you don’t want to look at him. Because you hear sincerity in his tone, and that scares you. It shatters this image you’ve built up of him in your mind of this playboy Sheriff who’s good for nothing but a quick fuck at the brothel. Makes you want to give in because maybe he really isn’t like all the rest.

You don’t know any other cowboys who would be as committed as he seems to be to trying to woo you. Day after day, weeks after weeks, months after months of rejection from you. And yet, he still shows up. He still asks. He still tells you that he’ll treat you right. That he’ll take care of you. Is it really that crazy to think that he’s different?

Giggles coming from the other side of the saloon burst the little bubble you’re in with the Sheriff and your eyes dart to the source. A table of four women, sitting in the back of the saloon and whispering what you’re sure are filthy things as they stare at the back of Suguru’s head. He doesn’t look, eyes glued to you and the way you’re still moving that damned towel over that godforsaken stain that you and him both know ain’t goin’ anywhere.

“I don’t date cowboys, Sheriff,” you mutter weakly. “They don’t take nothin’ serious, and I don’t got time for the heartache.”

Suguru sighs, taking his seat again. “Can’t you see I’m serious about you? I’ve been comin’ here for so long tryin’ to show you I ain’t playin’ any games here, Miss ___.”

‘That don’t change my answer.’ Is what you want to say, but the words get caught in your throat.

You both let the silence hang between you. He lets you get back to work, slowly sipping his drink while you finish tending the bar. But his eyes are still on you, watching how you began gently nibbling on your lip ever since Suguru told you again that he’s really not joking when it comes to you, like you’re lost in thought over his words. 

“Pardon me, Sheriff?” A soft voice calls to Suguru at the bar.

Your back is turned, but your ears perk up when you hear the Sheriff greet someone back, a woman. The conversation is short, her asking him questions that you can’t really hear. There are laughs from her, chuckles from Suguru and then of course, the lady asking him what he’s doing later tonight. The implication is clear, and you roll your eyes, because you almost gave into yet another cowboy and set yourself up for heartbreak.

But Suguru groans, awkwardly running his fingers through his locks as he tells the woman that he’s got plans with someone he’s been waiting to see for a long time.

“Family?” She asks, the disappointment clear in her voice. He laughs, shaking his head.

“No. Well, hope I’m not bein’ too forward, but maybe one day. If she ever lets me in, I think I’ll be able to convince her.”

“Oh!” The woman squeaks, not expecting that. And neither were you, because you freeze halfway through putting a bottle of whiskey back on the shelves behind the bar.

“Special lady then,” the woman mumbles.

“Very.”

She dismisses herself shortly after. And as the noise dies down, and the saloon empties out, you hear the telltale signs of the Sheriff getting ready to go, always the last customer. He sits his hat back atop his head, fishing out his money and leaving it on the bar for you. You meet his gaze, and he gives you a smile. Even with yet another rejection under his belt, he doesn’t seem angry or bitter. There’s no resentment behind his eyes. He harbors no negative feelings towards you. His smile is genuine and kind, like it’s always been every time you shut him down.

“Have a good night, Miss ___. Get home safe,” he says, spinning on his heel.

The quiet jingling of his boot spurs fills the air, and to you, at least in your head, it almost symbolizes alarm bells ringing. And you call out to him, grabbing his attention.

“Sheriff,” you place the towel down, coming out from behind the bar to stand face to face with the man you’ve only ever stood at least four feet away from. This close distance feels more intimate than any other time you’ve been around each other, and your heart pounds loudly in your ears as you ask, “Mind walkin’ me home?”

[p1utofairy]

★ your next glow up?

note — i wasn't gonna post this now but i figured fuck it why not?! enjoy, my loves! this is for entertainment purposes only <3 take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. p.s. come in my ask box and tell me what you think!

PILE ONE.

pile mf ONE, you are really stepping into a new era! when i tell you this new you is gonna turn HEADS. tuh, you’re gonna be looking like new money. nicki minaj’s ‘new body’ verse is coming to mind lol “you ain’t fuck me, you fucked the old body. you ain’t fuck nicki, you fucked nicole body! ain’t no miles on this here new body, off with they heads these bitches is nobody’s.” OH YEAH OKAYYY, PILE 1. maybe you’ll be hitting the gym more, switching up your diet or possibly getting some cosmetic work done?

whatever you’re doing differently, it’s gonna be noticeable. people are gonna feel like something changed with you overnight like “um when did pile 1 get so bad?” and this isn’t to say you aren’t already attractive…there’s just something about your energy and confidence that just amplified x1000 and people are really gonna feel and see this change in you. you might start experimenting with your outfits a little more, giving off a more seductive vibe. it’s like you're breaking out of your comfort zone especially if you usually opt for baggier clothes or a more conservative look. wait cause why am i thinking of ‘pretty little liars’ when emily is talking to aria about hanna and she’s like “haven’t you heard? she’s the it girl now.” PERIOD, PILE ONE. giving serena page vibes from love island.

there will be a lot of talk about you and even if you don’t hear it directly, trust me, people are gonna try to keep tabs on you. i’m seeing people re-watch your instagram stories tryna figure out who took you that place and who you’re doing it with — oh these people are spiralingggg. this could very well be potential suitors tryna scope out the scenery, but they’re not sure if you’ll be interested in them. they might fear rejection because you just look so damn good and it looks like you’re in such a better space in life and got your shit together; whereas they feel like they lack the resources/finances to be with you. these potential love interests see you as high value, pile 1. they’re intimidated by your beauty and aura. you’ll be more so focused on attracting a partner that can actually make shit happen.

you don’t have time for the cat and mouse games. you want the real deal and i do see you getting the person that you want. you manifested this person into your life and i sense them feeling like they won the lottery with you! i’m hearing that you are sooo mesmerizing on the outside and your heart & personality makes you so much more beautiful. there’s layers to you and i think this next glow up will allow you to really shine and be yourself unapologetically – you’re leaning into the different aspects of yourself that makes you unique. if there’s anything you’ve got your mind set on or something specific you want to do, go for it! whatever you do, you’ll stand out effortlessly and be successful. ‘say yes’ by floetry is coming to mind. “see, i’ve been watching you for awhile…your smile and style. wanna know if i can be with you for the night, alright.” i meannnnn need i say more?!

how to tap into this energy?

listen closely to your intuition! work on your third eye because i’m hearing that you’re a powerful manifester and you don’t even truly know it. even if you do know this, you start doubting yourself and limiting your own thoughts. always think big and bigger because it’s in your reach. don’t get so caught up in the “how?” because your manifestations can appear in many different ways, not just one. you have a clear vision into the future – you just gotta adjust your lens and focus on what it is that YOU want. who cares if it doesn’t make sense to anyone else, as along as you see the vision then it’s a go! listen to ‘i want it all’ by sharpay evans lol you need to embody that song and its energy.

PILE TWO.

hey, pile 2! i’m hearing you’ve been putting up with the bullshit for wayyyy too long and this next glow up is gonna be a proper FUCK YOU to all your haters! i feel like people take your kindness for weakness and you feel like you don’t get the respect you deserve. you can deal with a lot of passive aggression in your relationships or friendships and people expect for you to suck it up and be okay with it. what i’m mainly picking up is that you like to keep the peace. you don’t want to ruffle anyone’s feather, but it just makes it worse for you because you’re not truly expressing yourself and your emotions. this keeps you up at night like “ugh! i should’ve said this or I should’ve stuck up for myself and finally cussed so and so tf out.” but you don’t because you know why, pile 2? you’re better than them, simple as that.

you wouldn’t treat anybody how some people treat you, and the reality is that it’s so much harder to be nice than it is to be mean. anybody can be mean and say hurtful shit if they really wanted to, but to always be graceful and kind in the face of adversity and ignorance? rare af. +10000 aura points! don’t let anybody make you feel less than or like you can’t speak up for yourself. this next glow up you’re going to use your voice and really make it known that you are not to be fucked with, okay?! you will be standing your ground and really popping your shit in the most calm and collected way possible & people are gonna be like “wait…did [y/n] really just clock me like that?!” and you’re gonna be standing 10 toes down on it as you should. they’ll have no choice but to respect you lol. you will start to realize what is worth your time & energy and what isn’t.

you might start cutting off people that don’t mean you any good and really start to focus on yourself and your energy. no more walking on egg shells and sparing peoples feelings, this is YOUR life and you have a voice just as much as they do – so use it! i think you’ll also be meeting new friends & a potential love interest during this next glow up. i’m hearing ‘how stella got her groove back’ lol so yeah some of you might be playing the field a little bit.

some of you might just want something casual and nothing more because you just want to focus on your own healing journey. you’ll start to understand why things had to happen the way that they did & why certain relationships didn’t work out the way that you thought they would. you’ll be able to decipher what you are and aren’t willing to put up with and honestly i just see you bossing tf up and advocating for yourself no matter who doesn’t like it. that tiktok “nobody loves you baby! you should only love yourself – ON MY SOUL!” just randomly came to me lmfaooo this is your ‘i’m focusing on what really matters aka me’ era and i think it’s exactly what you need pile 2.

how to tap into this energy?

i think you need to transmute the negative energy that people try to project on you into something positive. 12:12 on the clock, yeah. like look at this way, if people doubt you, don’t respect you or don’t feel like your capable of achieving great things then use that to your advantage. let them underestimate you all they want, and then BAM boss up on them and show them who tf you are. what they don’t know only makes you stronger. you have the power to make some powerful ass connections and make a name for yourself so be calculated & strategic with your moves. people will be eating their words when it comes to you, pile 2.

PILE THREE.

pile 3 your next glow up is gonna be a bit of an emotional rollercoaster ngl, but very rewarding nonetheless. i’m hearing that one tiktok sound “you gotta take the good with the bad, smile with the sad. love what you got and remember what you had.” so yeah i think you’re really gonna be figuring out how to transmute your energy and create something from it – whether that be a job opportunity, a love offer, a trip, etc. there’s something that you really want and you’re doing the work to make it happen. you have the plan, you just need the platform lol.

for some of you, i see a major relationship coming to an end. this could be a lover or a best friend, but this person will be exposed because they’re not who you thought they were. this person has very sneaky/deceptive energy and you’ve been in the dark about this for way too long. this person/connection means a lot to you, so you will feel like this is a tough situation to completely walk away from; but my sweet pile 3’s you will be more than okay! you will be spectacular! 10:10 was just on the clock.

allow yourself to sort through your emotions and learn from the situation, don’t let it weigh you down. sometimes we get too caught up in how long we’ve been with somebody and all of the good memories we made with them, that makes us hesitant to move on. sometimes things just run its course and you’re no longer in alignment with that person. you can’t force anything or anyone in your life that doesn’t align with your highest self and that can be very hard to process when emotions are involved but i’m happy to let you know there’s light at the end of the tunnel.

i see some of you traveling to a place you’ve always wanted to go and possibly meeting a potential love interest. in this next glow up, you’ll be doing things that you’ve always wanted to do cause there’s no one holding you back. you’re stepping out of your comfort zone and just taking a leap of faith – high risk, high reward. you’re gonna be making time for yourself and also prioritizing your hobbies/interests. this is beautiful, pile 3. i see you really getting in touch with who you are at the core. be kind and gentle with yourself, because you are a precious gem that a lot of people value and care about.

how to tap into this energy?

stop giving your power away. work on your throat chakra, my loves. your voice is your power and it’s one of the major keys to your success. a closed mouth doesn’t get fed, so you need to speak up and communicate what it is that YOU want and not just say what people want to hear. this next glow up will really have you standing in your power. release is needed especially verbally cause you know that tight feeling you get in your throat when you’re tryna stop yourself from crying? yeah no more of that. no more walking on egg shells, pile 3. say what you feel and stand on it & watch how the tides turn in your favor. mwah!

PILE FOUR.

alright, pile 4! for this next glow up i see you moving. some of you might actually be moving into a new home or apartment and it’s gonna grant you so much peace and comfort. for others of you, this could be you moving on emotionally from a toxic relationship and/or familial bond and finally getting the clarity and peace you need to cut all ties and move onto something better. whatever the situation may be, it was weighing heavy on you and making you feel very down.

you’re gonna feel so free when you leave this situation behind, it’s not even funny. i’m hearing that you were a gilded bird in a cage. some of you could’ve been moving from place to place, not feeling quite settled or financially stable. if you feel lost right now and like you don’t know what to do with your life/where it’s taking you, i just wanna say keep going – W.A.Y.S. by jhené aiko is coming to mind. “if there's one thing that i learned while in those county lines, is that everything takes time. you have gotta lose your pride, you have gotta lose your mind just to find your peace of mind.” awww yeah that’s your theme song for this next glow up. things might not make sense right now, but please trust me when i say that everything is going to work out in your favor & things will be better than you could ever imagine.

you will be blessed with the tools you need to get to this next phase of your life. you are the source, pile 4. whatever you put your mind to, you can surely achieve! don’t let 3D circumstances throw you off, you are so abundant and prosperous you will see in this next glow up just how much of a powerful manifester you really are. you’re still trying to find yourself and figure out where you fit in in the world, but you don’t have to put yourself in a box, pile 4. pave your own way and once you do others will want to follow suit. no one can see your future the way that you do, so keep doing your thing because i’m seeing that you will come across people/friends that share similar interests and niches as you. awww pile 4 you’re going to find your soul tribe.

you have this flighty energy about you (air sign energy/esp gemini) like you’re from one thing to the next and you can’t figure out what you truly want to do. some of you might be in college or almost about to graduate and when people ask you “do you know what you want to do?” you’re like uhhhh….]>|>]^>.]€]€]£ like you truly don’t know but like that’s okay cause actually you do know! on a soul level, you know. what’s understood doesn’t have to be explained pile 4 lol people might not get it now but when you pop out living the life you’ve always dreamed of, TUH. they’ll understand then.

how to tap into this energy?

get out of your head so much and just vibe, pile 4. you can plan plan plan all you want but the reality is: shit happens! it might annoy you or make you feel incredibly frustrated when another problem or inconvenience pops up in your life, but there’s nothing you can’t overcome. it’s life. you will be greatful for these experiences in the long run because it will be another bridge that you’ve already crossed and dealt with, so you won’t fold under pressure – you’ll just already know what to do. you got this, pile 4. shit is about to get really good for you.

[kitkat13001]

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ modern!eren jaeger x reader

you begin to think that maybe it was a bad idea to bring eren to the amusement park when the small group of kids runs off with snotty noses and whining cries after losing to him at the squirt gun game. 

but you just laugh, turning to him and his smug smile. 

“eren, you could have at least given them a chance.”

eren shrugs, puffing his chest out. “i don’t see why, i kicked their asses.”

“they’re kids!” 

“tch, they’ll have plenty of time to win, they’re young. me, though, i gotta establish my dominance.”

he makes a ridiculous show of flexing his muscles as you burst into a giggle fit. both of you have forgotten the carnie standing behind you until he clears his throat. “which prize will you be taking, sir?”

eren flushes and clears his throat, trying to regain his bearings. 

“i’ll take, uh…” he glances over at you and sees you staring in awe at a giant teddy bear with a green bow-tie. “i’ll take that one. please. thanks.”

the carnie takes it off the hook and gives it to eren, returning to his place behind the counter. 

“i- oof!” it’s heavier than eren expected and while it’s not exactly a brick, it’s still rather large. “who the fuck made these things so heavy?”

he hauls the bear away awkwardly to free up the game for the next round of people, you trailing close behind. you’re still staring at the bear over eren’s shoulder. he glances back over at you and stops in his tracks, eyes roaming your face. 

the infuriatingly endearing curve of your mouth in a surprised ‘o’ and then quirking into an adorable smile. the way your eyes flutter shut from how wide your smile is, the slight lift of your shoulders like the happiness inside you manifested into a force that could lift you off your feet. 

“here.”

your eyes go big and your cheeks tinge pink as eren holds out the bear to you. you shake your head quickly. “what? no, i can’t…i mean, you won it.”

he scoffs and clicks his tongue. “what am i gonna do with it? here, you can add it to your fuckin’ collection. don’t even lie, i’ve seen ‘em on your bed. you don’t even try to hide them.”

your cheeks flush even more pink, along with the tips of your ears. you laugh bashfully. “yeah. i guess. but i really-“

“just take it already,” eren sighs, huffing like he’s irritated but really he’s just trying to cover up his blush. 

you hesitantly reach out as eren drops the bear into your arms. 

he laughs when the momentum of the large bear drags you down with it, nearly collapsing like a sack of flour. 

butterflies erupt in his stomach when you make a little ‘oof’ sound and try to regain your balance. eren chuckles and takes your hand in one of his own, the other reaching out to rescue to poor bear just inches away from the dirty floor. 

“c’mon, you klutz,” he snorts, helping you to your feet. “i’ll carry him for you, okay?”

you shake your head in a daze. “you say that like you didn’t buckle under it when you grabbed it first, too. but thanks.”

eren just hums, hoisting the bear onto his back and taking your hand, continuing to wander the park with you.

“what’re you gonna name him? don’tcha have a whole ritual and everything?”

you giggle. “i don’t know. what does he look like his name is?”

eren pretends to think it over, glancing back at the bear smiling pleasantly at him. 

“i think he looks like a ‘big pain in the ass’.”

“eren, stop it! you’re verbally abusing him,” you whine, but you’re laughing. “maybe i’ll name him armin. so he’s not mean, like you.”

“no freakin’ way you’re naming him after armin! did armin win this for you?”

“jesus, eren, just tell me to name my firstborn after you,” you snort, petting the stuffed bear between its ears. 

“you definitely should. i’ll even name my firstborn after you.”

you laugh, reaching a hand up to smack playfully at eren. “who would ever put up with you long enough to marry you?” 

eren catches your hand easily, intertwining your fingers and says nothing, instead smiling warmly down at you. 

you would, i hope. 

you take a seat on a bench, admiring the light from the sun sinking low to the horizon and washing the entire park in golden hues. 

“i would,” you state firmly, and eren turns to look at you in surprise, mortified that somehow you were able to read his mind. 

“huh?”

“i’d marry you,” you repeat matter-of-factly. “like if you were about to get deported, i’d marry you to keep you here. or if you had a secret uncle who left you a huge inheritance but you had to be married to get it, i’d do it. or like if we were in olden medieval times, if i had to have an arranged marriage, i’d pick you.”

eren just stares at you dumbfoundedly. “what the fuck?”

you were weird. he knew that. you’re prone to spout nonsense. it’s part of what he likes about you. in what scenario would eren be deported? he was born here. and what chance would he have of getting some huge inheritance from some relative he didn’t know? and how in the world would you ever end up in a medieval situation? but nonetheless his cheeks are still red and his heart is still beating fast. you’d pick him. he knew you didn’t explicitly mean that you’re romantically interested in him, but still, it made his heart jump in his chest to know that of everybody you knew (and that was a lot because you’re something of a social butterfly) you’d pick him. it didn’t matter for what, you would pick him. 

he smiles and you beam up at him. 

“i’d pick you too,” he hums, slinging an arm over your shoulder and pulling you close. you giggle, nuzzling your head in his neck. 

it feels warm and just right, the way you fit into his arms. like maybe it was meant to be. 

[darlingdaisyfarm]

best date ever (Stan pines x fem!reader)

A date with Stan, what could go wrong?

You never really knew what to expect from Stanley Pines. After all, this was the same guy who could sell you a so-called "ancient artifact" that turned out to be an old cereal box toy and still convince you it was worth every penny. So when he asked you out, you weren’t exactly sure how it would go. He wasn’t the flowers-and-chocolates type; instead, Stan was. . . well, Stan.

That’s probably what got you here, standing in front of the window, watching the unmistakable silhouette of the Stanmobile pull into your driveway. The thing was pretty loud. You heard the muffler rattle as Stan turned off the engine, and then the door creaked open with a metallic sound that made your eye twitch. A date with Stanley Pines. . . What could possibly go wrong?

Too nervous, you opened the door first before he even could knock and there he was, standing on your porch like some kind of hero from a forgotten old movie. Wearing a white shirt with the first buttons unbuttoned, dark brown trousers and. . . was he wearing an eyepatch?

As soon as he opened his mouth to greet you, you started a dialogue first. Oh damn, yes, that was awkward, but you kept going.

"Lookin' sharp," you teased, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, well, it’s not every day a guy like me gets to take a gal like you out,” he flashed you that wide, confident grin that didn’t quite match his eyes though. He shifted a little, like he wasn’t sure where to put his hands. “You ready for the best date of your life or what?”

You tried, really tried, not to laugh at how absurd the eyepatch looked on him. You leaned on the doorframe. “Okay, I gotta ask. . . what’s with the eyepatch? Did you lose a fight with a tourist or something?”

His grin faltered for a second and you swear you saw him hesitate. He scratched the back of his head, looking away, as if he was caught off guard for some ridiculous act. Yeah, right now he really wanted to wash away the shame. “Oh, uh, this?” he gestured to the eyepatch, trying to look casual. “Just, uh. . . battle wound. You know, dangerous life and all that.”

You tilted your head, amused, waiting for the real answer. “Stan. . .”

He gave himself a mental slap in the face, yanking the patch off with a quick flick of his wrist. "You saw nothing." he muttered with deadly seriousness before stuffing it into his pocket.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. For all his boldness, the fact that he tried to impress you, however clumsily, was so cute. “You don’t need to try that hard, you know. I. . . kind of like you just the way you are.”

His cheeks reddened, but just slightly, and he cleared his throat, shuffling awkwardly. “Yeah, well. . . don’t let it get to your head, alright?”

The passenger door of the Stanmobile creaked as you opened it and slid into the worn, cracked seat. The car smelled faintly of old leather and stale coffee, and the dashboard was littered with random trinkets, coins, and a few crumpled wrappers. Stan slammed his door shut, giving the steering wheel a hard pat before starting the engine.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked, glancing over at him.

The plan was simple — or at least, it was supposed to be. A nice dinner in town, maybe a little romantic walk after, and if things went well, who knew? But with Stan, nothing ever went according to plan.

As the Stanmobile sputtered its way down the road, you couldn’t help but glance over at Stan again. He was focused on the road, hands gripping the wheel just a little too tightly. There was a kind of quiet tension about him tonight that wasn’t there on the usual days when you stopped by the Shack. Maybe it was just the date thing, maybe he really was nervous? The thought surprised you, but you liked it. It made him more. . . real, in a way. You liked that side of him. 

Yeah, diner turned out to be everything Stan had promised and more. It was like stepping into a time machine that had malfunctioned halfway through. Neon signs flickered above the entrance, and the interior was a strange mix of retro and. . . You couldn’t find the right word to describe. The red vinyl stands were cracked and peeling, tarnished with age. It smelled of old oil and nostalgia, like a place that had long outlived its heyday, but still maintained it with stubborn pride. 

It looked like it hadn’t changed since the '50s, but it was full to the brim. Of course, he hadn’t thought to make a reservation.

“Should’ve figured,” Stan grumbled, glaring at the crow. “You’d think folks around here would have better taste than to crowd this dump.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Says the man who scams them daily.”

He gave you a wide smile. “Hey, I provide a valuable service. It’s called entertainment, toots.”

The jukebox in the corner of the room crackled to life, spitting out an old Elvis song that skipped every few beats. Stan’s brow furrowed in irritation, but there was something undeniably charming about the whole mess. It felt like a place he’d drag you to — not because it was fancy or impressive, but because it was something that always made happy and he wanted to share these feelings with you. Show them to you.

You were halfway through your milkshake (which, to be fair, wasn’t that bad, though Stan grumbled about the price) when the music changed. A slow, syrupy doo-wop tune hummed through the air, and Stan’s expression softened. His fingers tapped against the edge of the table, and he glanced up at you, his eyes shifting with something like uncertainty.

“So. . . you wanna dance?”

Your heart skipped a beat at that question, and for a second you wondered if you had heard him right. You blinked, then smiled. “With you? Absolutely.”

Stan stood, offering you his hand with a cocky grin. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya, baby. I’m pretty much the king of the dance floor.”

You laughed, took his hand, and let him lead you into the tiny space between the booths. The floor was sticky and the lighting was terrible, but none of that mattered. You moved together, swaying awkwardly at first, but gradually finding a rhythm, Stan's warm hand slid down your back to your waist. In the world around you, it's just the two of you in your own little bubble of retro music and flickering neon light.

The date continued in typical Stan fashion - messy, loud, but weirdly charming. He ordered way too much food, insisting that “you only live once” and somehow managing to spill half a plate of fries onto the floor when his hand gestures got a little too wild. He told stories, some of them most obvious lies, but you could tell that a few were real, even though he never said so. Tales of his past, of scams gone wrong and of the time he got banned from New Jersey. You couldn't help but laugh together with him, because the sheer absurdity of it all made the evening much more enjoyable than you expected.

But just when you thought the night was going smoothly, the universe, and Stan’s luck, had other plans.

You were just halfway through your burger when the sound of sirens cut through the air, flashing red and blue lights flashed in the windows. Stan froze, his eyes widening just a little too much for someone who claimed to have nothing to hide.

“Uh, Stan, what’s with the cops?” you asked, already having a bad feeling.

Stan shrugged, a little too casually. “Probably just grabbing a bite to eat. Y’know, doughnuts and all that.”

Before you could answer, two policemen entered the diner and went straight to the table where you were sitting.

Stan's face changed instantly as he looked at you. “Uh. . . hey, why don’t we, uh, take our food to go?"

“Stanford Pines?” the cop asked, pulling out a notepad.

“Uh, it’s Sta-“ Stan came to his senses in time, suddenly sweating. He leaned forward, trying to give the guy his best innocent smile. “I think you’ve got the wrong guy, officer. I’m just here enjoying a nice, peaceful evening with my girl.”

The cop didn’t look convinced. “We’re going to need you to come with us.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing between Stan and the cop, your heart sinking. “Stan, what’s going on?”

Stan bit his lip, rubbing his neck. “Eh, nothing to worry about, babe. Just. . . might have some, uh, unpaid parking tickets. No big deal.”

“Sta”- you wanted to repeat, but Stan interrupted you, clearly not letting you speak.

He avoided your gaze, focusing on the cop instead. “Look, officer, I’ll take care of the fines. Can’t we, uh, settle this quietly? I’ve got money.” he reached into his pocket, probably for his wallet, trying to salvage what was left of his dignity. Was he gonna pay with Stan bucks?

The cop didn’t budge, looking more annoyed by the second. But before you could process what was happening, the waiter reappeared next to your table, holding up the check. “Sir, your total is-“

But before he could finish the sentence, Stan grabbed your hand with a sudden burst of adrenaline. “C'mon! Time to make a quick exit,” he muttered, pulling you towards the door.

You barely had a chance to grab your things as he rushed to the exit, taking you with him, the cop’s voice rising behind you. “Sir! Sir, you can’t just-“

Too late. Stan was already moving at a speed you wouldn’t have thought possible for a man his age, practically dragging you across the diner floor. The bell above the door gave a loud ring as you burst outside, the cool night air hitting your face like a slap.

“What- Stan! What are you doing?” you shouted, trying to keep up as he raced toward the parking lot.

“Trust me, doll, I know what I’m doing!” he shouted back, fumbling with his car keys as you both headed straight for his battered old Stanmobile.

Stan yanked the door open, practically shoving you into the passenger seat. “Sorry, sweetheart, but we’re not getting arrested on our first date!” he said, giving you a grin that was way too proud for a man who’s running from the cops.

You barely had time to buckle your seatbelt before he slammed the driver’s door shut and jammed the key into the ignition. The engine sputtered, wheezed, and then roared to life with a sound like an angry chainsaw. “Atta girl, that’s it,” Stan muttered under his breath, patting the dashboard like it was a horse in an old western.

You glanced over your shoulder and saw a policeman running out of the diner, shouting something into a walkie-talkie. “S-Stan!”

“I see ’em!” Stan yelled, throwing the car into reverse and peeling out of the parking lot with a screech of tires. “Hold on tight!”

The car spun around, almost crashing into a lamp post. You were pretty sure you heard the cop yell something about backup, but all you could focus on was the blurred outlines of trees and neon lights flashing by as Stan raced down the street

“Okay, okay- this is fine,” you muttered to yourself, gripping the door handle hard. “We’re totally fine. Just a casual date. Running from the cops. No big deal.”

Stan burst into a loud laugher, clearly enjoying himself way more than he should have been. “Y’know, I’ve been in worse situations! Once outran a bunch of angry tax collectors in a boat! You’d be surprised what you can get away with if you’ve got the right distractions!”

“Stan!” you screamed in fear, and your heart jumped into your throat as the car swerved, almost hitting a raccoon running across the road.

“Relax, kid! I got this!” Stan assured you, his voice somehow both panicked and excited at the same time. He slammed on the gas, sending the car hurtling down a back road, away from the diner. The flashing lights of the police car in the rearview mirror were getting smaller, but you weren't sure how long it would last.

Just as you were about to ask if he had a plan (or if the plan was just "drive like hell"), Stan suddenly pulled off the road, skidding into a small dirt clearing hidden behind a bunch of trees. He cut the engine, motioning for you to stay quiet.

You sat there, breathless, scared, the sound of your racing heart filling the silence when a police car sped past, its siren fading in the distance.

There was a long, tense pause where you two just looked at each other. Then Stan leaned back in his seat, exhaling deeply. “Whew. Close call. That was cool, huh?” he turned to you, grinning like a kid who’d just gotten away with sneaking into a movie.

You couldn't help but stare at him, feeling something between disbelief and. . . oddly enough, admiration. Only Stanley Pines could turn a first date into getaway.

“Stan,” you finally said, breaking the silence, “we just fled a crime scene.”

“Eh, ‘crime’ is such a strong word,” he replied, waving his hand dismissively. “More like a. . . misunderstanding.”

You shook your head, a small laugh escaping your lips despite everything. Only with Stan.

But as the adrenaline slowly faded, you could see something else creeping into his expression, something much less cocky and way more. . . defeated, sad even. His hands tightened around the steering wheel, and his shoulders slumped.

“I really messed up tonight, huh?” his voice was quieter now, a lot more vulnerable than you’d ever heard him. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, just staring out the windshield. “I wanted to show you a good time. Prove I wasn’t just. . . y’know, some washed-up old guy who can’t get anything right. And look where we are. Hiding out in the woods, running from cops.” he laughed bitterly. “You probably think I’m an idiot.”

The silence that followed was heavy, you looked at him again. There was something heartbreaking about seeing Stan like this, behind all this bragging and show-off there was a man who truly cared what you thought of him. And right now, he looked like he had failed.

But then, through the trees, you noticed a glimpse of the sky. The full moon hung low, flooding the clearing with a soft silver light. It was strangely peaceful here now, away from the chaos what just happened, and you found yourself smiling no matter what.

You reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “hey, Stan, look up.”

He frowned, confused, but did as you asked, his eyes following yours to the sky.

“It’s beautiful, right?” you said softly. “The full moon, the stars. . . this moment.”

Stan blinked, like he hadn’t expected that. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“And you didn’t mess up,” you added, turning to him with a soft smile. “Tonight was. . . well, sure, it was an adventure, but that's what makes you the man I love. You're not a loser, Stan. Not for me.

He stared at you, like he couldn’t quite believe what you were saying. “You- you really mean that?”

“Yeah,” you answered him, your voice filled with sincerity. “I’d take a wild night with you over a boring, perfect one any day.”

There was a long pause while your words seemed to reach him. And then, slowly, Stan’s face broke into a real, genuine smile. Not his usual cocky smirk or sarcastic grin, just a simple, warm smile.

“Y’know, you’re somethin’ special,” he said softly, his hand tightening around yours. “I don’t deserve ya, but... I’m real glad you’re here.”

You leaned in a little closer, your heart fluttering as the distance between you got shorter. “I’m glad too, Stan.”

The moonlight bathed the two of you in its soft glow, and in that moment, despite the chaos of the night, everything felt. . . right.

[corazondebeskar-reads]

perchance, to dream

Jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader

technically a you know you never stood a chance post-series drabble, but all you really need to know is that joel and reader are in an established relationship and living in Jackson.

series masterlist

words: 548

summary: this is straight up domestic fluff with a hint of smut at the end. i wrote this after hbo hurt our feelings this morning. dedicated to @milla-frenchy - because you said please and ily 🖤

warnings: technically tlou pt. ii spoilers but not really and the angsty events of the game never happen. established relationship. fluff and domesticity. just a little snapshot of what their life is like in jackson.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Oh my god,” you hip-check him. “Are we getting ready for bed at the same time?”

He rolls his eyes and scowls, patting his face dry with a faded peach hand towel before padding out of the room. You watch him blatantly as he goes, his sweatpants sagging below the soft curve of his bare stomach. 

“Rude,” you call after him. But it’s not long before you’re pulling back the covers and climbing in behind him, arm sliding around his side. 

“Hey,” you say with a softer smile. “We’re actually going to bed at the same time.”

“Yep,” he grunts. “Means I get to do this.”

You jump and shriek as he moves to stick his ice cold footsicles against your bare skin.

He grabs you by the waist. “Where d’you think you’re goin’, huh? You’re the one who always takes the late patrol. You owe me.”

You wriggle and laugh, pushing at him to get away. He nips at your neck, and you grin devilishly. 

You know how to win. All you have to do is turn, rub your ass against him “accidentally,” and he’ll quit fooling around. 

But he catches you by the hips, wise to your wily ways. “Not tonight. I’ve got an early one.”

“What? No, you're off tomorrow. We’re both off tomorrow!” 

He grimaces, rubbing his beard against your neck while he confesses that Tommy asked him to help out, trying and failing to distract you. 

“But we’re both going to bed at the same time.” The pout is unintentional, but you stand by it. 

“Yeah. We are. Going to bed, to sleep, at the same time. Ain’t it nice?”

“Nobody said anything about sleep,” you cross your arms, leaning against your pillow. 

“I did. I am. Go to sleep, sweetheart.” 

He leans in and you turn your head, meeting him halfway. No matter that you’re sulking; you’ll never miss out on this. The kiss is sweet but loaded, drawing a groan from you both. 

“Just can’t help yourself, can ya?” He says, shaking his head as he lies down and turns off his lamp. 

You lay down and roll over, back to back, pressed up close to one another. “Love you, Joel,” you whisper, heaving an overly dramatic sigh. 

“Love ya, sweetheart,” he mumbles. 

Damnit. Nearly asleep already. 

You scowl at the darkness. 

It doesn’t last long. He’s rolled you over before you know it, tugging his old tee up over your head. “Goddamnit,” he grumbles. “You’re right. We’re goin’ to bed at the same time.”

You smirk. “Hold on, now. You gotta get up early. I’m not gonna be the reason you’re like, Deluxe Cranky.”

He pinches your nipple in retaliation, but the only reaction he gets is a hitch of your breath and a soft “mmm” before you keep on with your schtick. 

“No way,” you shake your head like he’s a naughty dog, “I’m not giving you an excuse.”

By then, though, he’s got your panties down around your knees, and your playful denial disappears with them. 

“Oh yeah?” he grumbles, lining himself up and pushing into you slowly, just to watch you arch beneath him, gasping. 

“Y-yeah,” you say stubbornly. “You gotta waive the right to complain in the morning.”

He rolls his eyes above you, and you think never, you’ll never tire of that view.

[trippinsorrows]

through your eyes + au 2

authors: well....this is happening. don't ask. we're just going with it. gotta read part one before consuming this.

don't know who's interested, so only tagging the people i know have read and would be okay with a tag!

taglist: @sayyestoheav3nn @fearlesschimera @annfg8 @zoeyybellex3 @cyberdejos2

Solana never expected to see Roman Reigns again. Not in person, at least. That up close, especially.

It was a one off. A fluke. An anomaly. Her happenstance literal run-in with quite literally the most dangerous man in their world was just one of those things she'd never forget but nothing beyond that.

She could never forget his intense gaze on her, the heat that shot through her body when he touched her, his arm holding her, protecting her almost from a man who clearly doesn't understand boundaries.

But, while she tried her best to put the weekend's unexpected happening behind her, life, or maybe fate, had another plan in motion. One she could have never expected or seen coming.

She's sorting through one of the few remaining boxes that still needs to be tagged and put out for sale when a throat clears behind her.

Putting down the iPad, Solana stands up, wiping her hands on her shorts and loads up her typical, usual smile. Turning around, she readies to greet the probable customer but falters a bit, taken back by his appearance.

Wild, red hair that's surely seen better days. Tall with an almost lanky build, he wears one of the friendliest grins she's ever seen on a person, let alone a man.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes. "How can I help you?"

Again, he clears his throat, pulling out a wrinkled little piece of paper that seems to have writing scribbled on it. "Yes, I'm looking for a Sol---Solana?"

She laughs at his pronunciation but proceeds to confirm her identity. "I'm Solana."

He makes a sound, slapping his hand against his forehead. "Of course, my apologies!" She giggles. His demeanor is so amenable. "Umm, yes, if you could, umm, come with me?"

At that, Solana's smile drops. "I'm sorry?"

He leans over a bit, and she naturally moves back a little. "I'm sorry." His cheeks are heating with redness. "I'm here on behalf of the Tribal Chief."

Solana goes still. "Roman?" He nods. "He's---he's here?"

When Solana mentioned Roman coming to see her, something she still can't figure out where it came from, she wasn't actually expecting him to follow through on that.

And yet....

The man continues to explain, "he would come in, but....you know."

Yes, she does know. Roman Reigns coming into her little, quaint bookstore would certainly attract an audience and attention, the last two things she wants, that she's ever wanted.

Solana nods.

She should reject it. Should try to find some excuse as to why she can't. Why she's busy. But, she's also not dumb enough to say no to this man.

You don't just say no to Roman Reigns. You can, but it's bound to not end up well. And Solana would rather not find herself on his bad side.

Pushing back her anxiety, she finds herself agreeing. "Of course." Hooking her fingers through the hoops of her denim shorts, she asks, "w-where is he?"

The man whose name she realizes she still doesn't know motions with his arm. "Ladies first."

He really does have a gentless about him that doesn't seem to make sense considering who he works for.

Solana silently and wordlessly follows him out the emergency exit in the back of the store, ignoring the fact that that's probably how he got inside in the first place, which makes little to no sense to her. How did he get by without the security system going off? But, for her own sanity, she doesn't push it too much.

This is Roman.

He gets what he wants.

And speaking of, Solana finds her stomach knotting a bit when she's outside in the alleyway behind the strip. There's three black SUV's with tinted windows lined up, but he's standing by the one in the middle. Leaning against the middle door, his arms are crossed over each other, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes she secretly wishes she could see.

Moving closer, Solana has to take in once again the magnanimity of him. Roman is such a big man, his presence alone something that's both overwhelming and strangely satisfying.

But, when she gets her wish, and he lifts his sunglasses to the top of his head, she finds that feeling in her stomach intensifying. He's raking those beautiful eyes over her entire body, from the top of her head to the sole of her feet.

And Solana is suddenly wishing she'd maybe put on a little makeup or done something more sophisticated with her hair. Not that that seems to stop this man from looking like he'd take her in the back of this alley if he could.

Before she can say anything, the man with the wild red hair is speaking again, his voice suddenly riddled with anxiety.

She gets it.

"Ms. Solana, as you requested, sir." He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and just when Solana expects him to walk away, leaving her along with the one man she probably shouldn't be left alone with, he continues to talk, offering an unexpected save. "And might I say, my Tribal Chief, she is absolutely beautiful. I mean, if I wasn't already married—" At the same time Solana looks at this strange man confused, Roman's gaze is borderline murderous. "But I am m-married, happily so, might I add. And I would never betray my Tribal Chief—"

"Sami."

"Yes, My Tribal Chief?"

"Leave." It's spoken to the man, but Roman's intense gaze is back on her. "Now."

Sami.....it fits.

"Of course," Sami clears his throat and scrambles away, getting in the SUV that's farthest from them without bothering as so much as a goodbye.

Once alone, she finds herself admitting in that same small voice, "I-I didn't think you'd actually come."

He chuckles, and it's such a beautiful sound. "I'm a man of my word, Solana." He flicks his eyes to her mouth. "I said I would see you again, didn't I?"

He did. She just wasn't counting on it.

Swallowing, Solana toys with the string of her top, unintentionally dragging Roman's attention to her cleavage that's showing more than usual. Of course. "How did you find—"

"That was easy. If I want something, I get it." She should know this, know that this man could probably have her social security number at this point if he wanted. "What are you doing tonight?"

Oh.

This is escalating. Quickly. So quickly. She should pump the breaks, should find someway to dead this now. But, she instead finds herself answering him, "n-nothing. Why?"

"You are now." Roman kicks off the SUV and instead moves toward her. Instead of backing away like she did with Sami, Solana stands still, only silently and internally panicking when he snakes his arm behind her and jerks her toward him, into him, into his body. Solid as steel. He's so big. Naturally, her hand moves to his chest, something Roman notices and smirks at. This man. "I'm fighting tonight. I want you there."

It takes her a second to think about what he's referring to, and then it hits her. WarGames is tonight. It's one of the few main events he still participates in. She hasn't attended an event in years. It's never been her setting, but instead of finding a way to tell him this, she's still limited to one to two word response.

"O-oh."

His smirk deepens as he brings his hand to her chin, thumb glossing over her skin. "I'll send a car to pick you up."

Picking up on something, she asks, partially concerned, partially flattered almost. "You-you know where I live?"

Roman's eyes continue to study her face, and she's never felt so under pressure. Like this is a test of some sort that she has no idea if she's passing or not. "I know a lot about you, Solana Miller, but there's still more I want to know." Oh my god. "Wear red."

Just how much does he know? Had he looked her up? Done research on her? Why? What would be the reason? What's so interesting about her that not only has he gone out of his way to gather information on her, but beyond that, is now seeking more info.

It just....it doesn't make sense.

Eyes shutting a bit from the overwhelming nature of this all, she finds herself asking in a breathy voice, "w-why?"

And as if she wasn't already an apprehensive mess, Solana's knees nearly give out from under her when he dips his mouth near her ear. "I like seeing you in my color." She exhales shakily and nervously, as he ghosts his lips over the shell of her ear. "Though I'd rather see you in nothing, but we'll work up to that."

That's not exactly what she was asking about, but regardless, it takes the pure will of God for her to not pass out when he finally pulls away, the lack of his touch on her body something she notices almost immediately.

Roman lifts his hand and snaps, not even a full minute later, one of his men emerging from the passenger side of the SUV to open the car door for him. "I'll see you tonight, Solana."

He can clearly see the reaction he's evoking from her and obviously finds great enjoyment in absolutely toying with her sanity. It's something that leads to her asking, "How-how do you know I'll be there?"

She never accepted. Never agreed. Never mind the fact that she's already thinking about what she owns red that could work for the event....

Roman gives her a curious look followed by another chuckle that she finds so much more attractive than she should. He answers so easily and confidently before climbing in the truck, door being shut for him,

"Because you're just as intrigued by me as I am by you."

[reveriebae]

Anchor tattoo

pairing(s) : Ex! Song Mingi x f!reader

word count : 2,259

genre : smut

synopsis : when your highschool ex who is also your first love and also your neighbor unexpectedly have a visit to your place.

warning(s) : you could say reader is cheating, reader has a tattoo (of course it's on the title), unprotected sex, marking (m receiving), lmk if I missed something!

Part of Songfic

Minors do not interact, 21+ only!!

🪐smut under the cut🪐

Million drops of cold water running down, leaving goosebumps all over your skin. Cold shower after spending all day at the office probably something you enjoy every night. The smell of your watermelon shampoo you just excitedly bought yesterday literally spread all over the bathroom, it's nice.

You get out of the bathroom after you finished take a shower, put on Jongho's hoodie that's long enough to cover more than a half of your thighs then doing your skincare. You saw the text you haven't replied before you take a shower, it's from your boyfriend Jongho.

He's been super busy lately so he's rarely visit your house unlike he usually did, his place and yours is a bit far though and you are currently busy too because you just moved to a new brach office so there's a lot to do at the new office so you and him could just wait until the weekend to meet at his place or yours, depends on the situation and it's been about 3 months.

Your schedule is still the same, go home at 8 work at 10 but Jongho's schedule has been changed, he usually finished his work at 5 but now he even still working at 9 so that's the reason why he can't meet you often like how he used to do. Sometimes you get bored and feel so lonely without him, not having company after all day working like you used to have is kind of unusual in some way, but you always trying to understand that you couldn't always expect your boyfriend to be around you everytime so things slowly being fine, you don't call your boyfriend to cry and say 'i miss you' 60 times in every minute, you don't drool on his black tee because you cry yourself to sleep to end up ruining your skincare and cry when you wash the t-shirt anymore, you cry a lot back then and it make you wonder how your boyfriend could stand being with you for the whole 9 months until today.

Your type 'ok' and press the send button when someone ringing the bell at your door, they pressing the bell multiple times it is noisy and you run up to the door to open it and found Mingi in front of you. Mingi, your ex boyfriend when you're still in senior highschool, the reason you broke up with him is just because both of you aren't ready for a relationship yet, you both don't know what to do, don't know how to feel, don't even know how to understand each other and don't know how to maintain that kind of relationship, he is your very first boyfriend and so you are to him. You both decided to end the relationship with no bad blood, with no anger, with no sadness, with the 'we gotta learn how to love first, we can go back if we are ready and we both want to' deal and you both agreed.

You haven't really talked with him for the past two and a half years, sometimes you saw his car passes your house in the morning when you're about to go to work, sometimes you saw him at the convenience store, sometimes you both say hi to each other when you do jogging on sunday morning, because you two live close to each other so you still often see Mingi around your place, but this is the first time after the break up, he actually come to your house.

"Hey..can I come in for a bit? It's urgent, kind of.." his hair is damp you assume he's sweating cause he's literally gasps for air like he's been chased by a ghost.

"O-of course you can Mingi" You nod and let Mingi enter your house, you told him to wait and sit on the couch and you decided to make him some tea. You come back from the kitchen to living room, Mingi still there sitting on the couch. "What happen actually? If you don't mind to tell me" you say as you put the cup of tea on the table in front of him.

"So..do you perhaps know Carla?" You nod and sit beside him, she moved not really far from here about 4 months ago, you heard she's from Europe and you actually ever met her like twice when her mom asked if Carla could borrow your dress and you just gave her instead of lend the dress to her cause you don't really like to share (obviously) and that time when Carla looks like she trying to be close to you by come over to your house everyday waiting for you to come home from work for a whole 2 weeks but you're so busy so she stopped, you haven't say sorry tho. "Yeah, I and her are dating for about two months, everything is going fine until my mom accidentally tells her that you are my ex, she went crazy and always trying to blame you when she noticed my feelings are gone for her" you noticed that he plays his fingers, he might be hiding something cause isn't it weird when your ex suddenly come to your house and talk about a girl, to you? To his ex? What if he just wanna mess with you? What if he just wanna get to close to you again? Second guessing is not that bad yk you gotta be careful with men.

"Oh I'm sorry for that Mingi, but why do you come here?".

"She's at my house, I told her I want to break up but she refused to, now she's haunting me but plays innocent in front of my parents, of course my parents believe me more than her, so I ran out from my house and I could only think about you when I try to find a place to hide".

You let out a hum then realized, all the house in this complex had the same shape, there are two doors to go outside but the backyard is a garden and have no access to go to the street so the only door that could is just the front one, if he said that he ran here when he knew Carla is coming to his house, then Carla must see him leaving the house right?.

"How did you..".

"Jump off the balcony to the tree, you know the tree beside my house had a ladder on it hm?" Damn is this guy could actually read mind?, you just nod to him and he drink the warm tea you gave him. "Ah..warm tea after a cold shower is really nice, thanks pumpkin" You choke after caught what he just said, 'pumpkin' is the nickname he gave you when you two still together.

"Yeah..sure,uhm. I'm..gonna bring some biscuits" you quickly walk to the kitchen to take a breath. God this is so wrong but you missed him, he looks so handsome and hot with his platinum hair and black shaped glasses and those stupid rings around his stupid slender and long fingers. You feel like if you make a skin to skin contact with him you gonna jump and fuck him right there and then.

You were opening up a cookie jar to take some of the cookies to put it on the plate when you feel a pair of hands holding you into an embrace. "What got you busy here, pumpkin? Are you avoiding me?" His head snuggle up your neck and one of his hand moving your hair to the side then his chin rest on your shoulder.

"Mingi, what are you doing? ngh-" you muffled a moan when the tips of his nose touch the skin of your neck.

"Mmh still so sensitive for me, my little pumpkin" he takes a heavy breath then let it out, the air brushing your skin make you shiver. "You smell like watermelon, you always love them pumpkin, you don't change even a bit" you grip his hands, trying to get out from his hold but it's just get tighter and tighter. "I really miss you pumpkin, please don't run away from me" he lick a stripe on your neck and that's it. That's enough to make you apologize to yourself and your boyfriend because you can't take it anymore.

"Stop it Mingi, we can't" Mingi stops his movement and you turn around to face him, he frowns. "We can't do it..in the kitchen, let's go to my room" smile creeps on his face as you hold his hand and take him you your room. Mingi take a sit on your bed then you straddle him and cup his face in your hands. "I got a feeling that you lie to me about Carla, but fuck it I really need you right now".

"I did not lie to you pumpkin, the actual reason I wanna break up with her is because I always think about you when I'm with her, not to mention when she started to copy your style by wearing a dress that is look just like yours" He plays with your hair while you wrap your arms around his neck.

"That is actually my dress, I gave it to her".

"Why?".

"That's a long story to tell.." his thumb starts rubbing your bottom lips.

"God I missed this lips so bad, really bad it hurts" his thumb now rubbing your cheek as you lean into him to put your lips on his. His eyes closed and so is yours, the more the kiss gets deeper and deeper.

Clothes scattered everywhere all over the floor, both of your bodies are now bare, touches everywhere. You lean into him to bury your face in the crook of his neck, leaving kisses and marks all over him. "I hope you wouldn't mind" you fingers grazing over the marks you made yourself on his skin.

"Don't even hesitate, pumpkin. Give me a lot of your reminder" you smirk at his words. Still sit on his lap, you stroke his cock to spread his precum all over his cock. He lets out moans while you look at his face, intensely. Wanting to observe every detail of expression he made, the way his eyebrows furrowed, his head falls back, mouth open wide and sweats trickle on his forehead. "Yess pumpkin, that feels nice..oh- fuckk" hisses leaves his lips when you slowly slip his cock inside you.

"Mingi..you feel bigger than I could remember" you moan out a bit louder, smile creeps on his face then he cups your ass on both of his hand and helps you grind on his cock.

Started with slow pace, when he sees your face filled with pleasure he decided to fasten the pace by moving you up and down his cock. You let out choked moans from his action then you lay down when you feel you don't have the ability to sit straight anymore which made Mingi stop his movement. "Aww, my little pumpkin feeling tired already? I thought- oh fuck! You still have the tattoo?" Mingi said after he sees the anchor tattoo on your left rib cage, on the side of your left boob.

"I mean it's a permanent tattoo Mingi..so yea, I still have it" it's the first ever tattoo you have which is it's Mingi who pushed you to get your first tattoo, and he even picked out the design.

He yanked your thighs then rub his cock on your pussy and slide it in. "Fucking come back to me pumpkin" before you can answer he thrust into you roughly, you muffled your scream by biting your bottom lips. Slapping sound, muffled moans and light sound of babbling from both of you and Mini echoed your bedroom.

"Fuck Mingi! You fuck me so hard, fuck me so good..gonna cum, pleasee.." you cry and start sobbing from the pleasure he's giving to you.

He thrust harder without slowing his pace then make you see stars when he licks his thumb then circle your clit with it, your body spasming under him, pussy clenching, eyes rolling back, drops of tears escapes then your hand flew to close your mouth with the back of your hand to stifled the sound that about to burst out of your mouth.

"Shit pumpkin, too tight!" Then he released inside you after a few thrust and give a few thrust to ride your orgasm. He leans down and put his head on your chest. "Your breath match with the sound of your heartbeat pumpkin" he looks at your face and smiles softly.

"Mingi..we shouldn't do this".

He looks at your face, confused "why? If you worry about Carla..listen, I'm not with her anymore and if you-".

"No..no Mingi, if my boyfriend know about this he definitely would kill me".

"You..you have a boyfriend? Fuck he gonna kill me too then".

You let out a soft chuckle and slight smile grew on Mingi's face show a hint of his dimples. "No one should know about this, about us. Let's just keep this and never do this again".

He frowns "I've been waiting for this too long, you do look really good everytime I passed by you everywhere, make me wanna have you again..But yeah, no one should know about this".

After that you and Mingi clean each other then he go out from your house when he thinks Carla must be gone from his house at this hour.

[acefictionwriting]

Scout’s Med Bay Stay (TF2 Bang)

-Hi! This is my contribution to the TF2 Big Bang Event! Scout wakes up after being injured to find some new strange people he’s going to get to know.

Made with Artists

@ermg33 - here is their Art Post

@sicc-nasti - here is their Art Post

As the man awoke, he had no idea what was happening. He had no idea where he was, no idea what was going on, or why he was here. It started coming back to him, but before he could put everything together, the pain shot up his legs.

Ow. Right, the enemy grenades. Shit, I hate enemy Demolition bombers. What did you get yourself into, Jeremy? 

Jeremy opened his eyes and looked around, discovering he was in a med bay. The Scouting mission must have gone wrong, really wrong, since the other scout wasn’t there. He didn’t recognize anyone in the room.

“Ah! You are awake! I was hoping to harvest your organs, but at least the replacements worked!”

“What?” 

The Scout looked at the man, and he nearly pissed himself. 

Oh no, not the medic guy again. 

“Uh, I don’t—” Jeremy tried to make an excuse for the man not to get too close, but before he could, the Medic was pulling him up from the bed to sit him up. 

“You stay here Späher, I will get you the new medicine. You will make a great first test!!”

Jeremy didn’t have time to stop the man, nor did he really want to. He also didn’t ask why the American medic was German. 

His legs were still killing him, and despite the dread he felt thinking about everything that could have happened to him, he ripped off the sheets anyway out of impulsive curiosity. They looked perfectly fine, besides the fact they had been cut off and reattached and left a giant scar. That’s probably OK. He moved his foot to find out if they still worked and jumped up in pain. 

“He is brutal, but he always succeeds. Your legs work alright, Erreur?” 

Scout looked to his right, and a man he hadn’t noticed before was there. The man had a bandage covering most of his face and was standing in the shadows enough that the rest wasn’t showing. It sounded like he smoked enough to kill him twice a day. 

“Jesus, man, didn’t see ya there. Yeah, they work. If they didn’t, I dunno what I’d do. I’m a runner. I do the Scout work, finding out where the Germans are gonna be and making sure there’s no trouble. And if there was trouble, well, I took care of it.”

“You aren’t supposed to do that on scouting missions.”

“Well, I did. And that’s gonna make me a hero or something when it works out. Then I’ll go home to my girl, and she won’t be able to resist me!” 

“WE WILL GO HOME TO OUR WOMEN WHEN WE WIN THIS BLASTED WAR. KEEP AT IT SOLDIER. WE’LL KEEP THOSE GERMANS AT BAY AND—” 

Scout turned his head to see a man in full restraints on a bed, wearing an oversized helmet over his eyes. The Medic seemed to know this man and definitely didn't like him.

“Nein… not again. You are not a soldier. How do you get in here…” 

“I AM AN AMERICAN SOLDIER THROUGH AND THROUGH—” 

“You have a head injury, du verdammter Idiot.” 

Scout turned his head away from the half-shouting match, half-desperate argument. The bandaged man in the shadows had disappeared, which Jeremy thought was fucking weird. 

With nothing else to do, he pulled out his locket with a blurry picture of Pauline F. Pauling. 

She’ll like me for sure now that I’ve got manly scars and stuff. I’ll come home her hero, and we’ll get to kiss and— 

“MMMFF MMMH MMM.” 

“GAH— WHY ARE YOU ALL SO QUIET UNTIL I’M TRYING TO FOCUS?” 

Scout turned to the bed on his left, seeing the not-a-soldier and the medic fight in the background, and someone entirely wrapped in bandages in the bed close to his. 

“Jesus, what happened to you?” 

“Mmmhff mmmhb mffhh mmmmffhhhh mmm MMMFF mmmh.” 

“Ja, we don’t know who that is. Don’t even know what side they’re on. I’ve just been using them for my experimental injections. Beyond that?” The medic shrugged and resumed his argument with the American. 

“I gotta get out of here. We gotta get out of here; you gotta be real messed up from that.” 

The burned patient muttered a muffled something that sounded like a verbal shrug. They then pointed to the locket. 

“My girl? Yeah, she’s a real beaut, huh?” 

“Is that ‘your girl’ mon étrange collègue enfantin?” 

“OK, we’re getting you a bell.”

The French man sighed and stepped away from the shadow of the door. He stuck to the shadows and the wall, but stood next to the scout. Despite not knowing the man, Jeremy felt like a stray cat had sat next to him while not getting close to anyone else. It would be some sort of honor if the stench of cigarettes wasn’t so overpowering. 

“Écoute, mon ami, you have been injured. Is there anyone you would like to inform? This girl? Perhaps your mother?”

“Well, I gotta tell Ma about this. I bet Pauling would love to hear about me and my cool battle wounds now.”

“Right… I’m sure. I will get the communications officer.”

Even Scout could see the man just wanted to leave the conversation.

Why’d he look so uncomfortable? 

There was silence then, or as much of a silence as there could be in the overcrowded room. Scout never liked not being part of a conversation in a group of people. He felt left out. His brothers always seemed closer to each other than to him, so he was pushed out of conversations often, even when they did not mean to exclude him. Scout looked around the room. He supposed the same thing had kept happening in the army. He had had brief conversations with everyone in the medical area, but they all ended suddenly. He preferred the chaos of everyone popping up suddenly to the emptiness of everyone ignoring him. Jeremy looked over to the burn victim to his left, but they had fallen asleep, it seemed, as they made a cartoonish mimimimimi sound from under the seemingly infinite bandages. The silence was uncomfortable, but not uncomfortable enough for Jeremy to wake up someone with severe injuries.

“Ah. You’re no help.” 

The Scout briefly considered talking to himself, but remembered when he was caught and teased by his brothers for that. Ma had said they meant well, but even so, Jeremy never wanted to seem crazy. At least not in a nonviolent way. Instead of talking to himself, he decided to do what he usually did when he was nervous or unsure. He counted all the ways he was the coolest person alive who would totally live the most incredible life anyone ever had. He was on reason number seven (he had miscounted severely. It was the 16th reason) when the door opened again. 

“Hey, face guy! You’re back! Is this that letter guy? Make my injury sound really bad so it looks better when I go home. Hey, wait, there's two guys.”

The first man was tall and had an eyepatch. Scout thought that was awesome. He had a bottle of… what smelled like 100% alcohol in his hand and was leaning against the doorway, half asleep, half on high alert. Scout thought it best not to disturb this man until he became more aware of his surroundings. Instead, the scout turned his attention to the other man, with papers in his hands.

The second man was short and had other features that Scout immediately ignored in favor of the robotic arm the man had. 

“WOAH, ARE YOU A ROBOT?”

The man laughed warmly, as if he’d heard it before from others. 

“Well, I’m technically a cyborg,” said the man, with a warm smile, “and I’m also the correspondence officer until we find another guy who isn’t dead to do it. I’m Dell, but they call me Engineer most of the time.”

“Can I ask, like, a bajillion questions about the—” 

“No, you may not! But my friend here is gonna ask you a few questions before we get this letter written. Tavish, I think you’d better do the talking.” 

Scout had thought Dell was friendly, and he generally seemed to be, but there was a tone to the man’s voice that said another question about his arm would make him far less friendly. So Jeremy decided to do the most difficult thing he’d ever done, and be quiet as the Engineer stepped aside to make room for the hulking man with the eyepatch. 

“My name is Tavish. I’m a demolitions expert addicted to alcohol and explosives—” 

“Wrong speech, buddy,” said the Engineer encouragingly, as though this had happened many times before. 

“Aye, right. Ahem.” 

Tavish took out a piece of paper from his back pocket that was surprisingly pristine. He took a stick of dynamite out from the other, put it back, and looked around for something else. The French guy handed him a small gun as though knowing what he was looking for. 

“Right, thanks.” The demolitions expert shot the ceiling twice to gather everyone’s attention. He handed the gun back and took reading glasses out of another pocket. 

“You are all hereby requested for a special secret mission. The people hiring you will not reveal their names or the mission’s purpose, but we assure you that it is of utmost importance. You will be relocated to a strategic and secret area that may turn the tide in this war. Each of you has been selected due to the special skills you possess, as well as a general lack of morality. Also, we will pay you. We know some of you are here to be paid. We implore you to consider this opportunity and join our team.”

“Hey, where did your British accent come from there, weren’t you Irish or Scottish or somethin’? Also, yeah, I’m gonna do that. Can I tell my Ma?” 

“Aye. Any other questions?”

“Ja, will there be room for my experiments there? Also, mein vögel, can they come? I can go with du all if I’m not taken from my work.”

“Aye, your experiments are why you're here, and experimenting with test subjects is encouraged.” 

“Oh, then Ja!” 

Each person asked questions, but since Scout had already accepted, the Engineer gave him one of the papers to sign and started writing Jeremy’s letter on another paper that was not a contract. Jeremy let everyone else fade into the background as he told his mom and his girl all about his injuries and how much he missed them in the letters. He took a while to sign his name, struggling with the letters, but Dell was quite understanding. Jeremy decided that he enjoyed the Engineer’s company. 

The only thing that seemed off was the Spy. He did not seem excited about the contract, but he did sign the papers. 

Each of the men, now called The Teufort Mercenaries, were helped out to the vehicle, except for the burned one, who was driven in a personal ambulance since they couldn’t move. 

Scout wondered how they signed the paperwork. He wondered how his Ma would take it, with him being gone even longer than planned, but how much longer would it be? A week? Probably a week. Ma would be alright, he explained everything in his letter. She had his brothers to take care of her. He smiled, excited to drive off to a new, exciting, and important life. 

The Spy, Demo, and Engineer stayed behind longer than the others. 

“These letters, they will not be sent, non?” 

“No, unfortunately, we have to burn ‘em. Gonna tell everyone these guys died in battle.”

“What about ze medic?” 

“Oh, we don’t know where he came from. He just started saving lives by making abominations to god, and we let him.”

“What ze fuck is wrong with you all?” 

“Ask the higher-ups.” 

Meanwhile, Tavish was getting paid by a woman who addressed herself as P. He assumed that was because of her purple attire. 

“So you’ll take them all to the desert location, right?”

“Aye.” 

“And you won’t ask questions?”

“Aye. Not my job.”

“You’ll be perfect. Here’s the hundred. Go take them to Teufort.” 

The woman then started calling her boss and walking away, and Tavish walked away as well. He thought he had heard, “They’re out of our hair now,” but he did not question it because it was his job now not to ask questions.

They all rejoined the group in the van, everyone having been ignorant of their absence. The lively chatter continued as everyone awaited their trip to a new life. A life that was not the heroic one they had expected, but simply a way to rid the world of these strange people. 

[itsnotbird]

Orphic ~ File 8

Alexthymia (n.) ; The inability to express your feelings

Bucky!Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: TW! Blood, trauma, sad stuff, angst, guns, Blue needs a hug.

Previous part here

You hum a simple song to yourself as you make your way to the ladies washroom, yawning at the lack of sleep you got.

You push the door open, greeted by the white tile and pleasant lighting. You hang a fresh towel on the hook and retrieve your shower things from the shelf they sat on, next to Wanda and Nat’s stuff.

Back at The Unit, you didn’t have things that were unique to you.

Every girl used the same things, the scentless bar soap that would be supplied to each girl every month, nameless shampoo and conditioner. Now, you had products that smelled pleasant, things that bubbled and body wash you didn’t need to conserve.

Pulling back one of the shower curtains, you turn on the water to get it hot, then get your pajamas off.

But to your surprise, another curtain is pulled back. As you turn to see if it was Nat (who usually beats you to the showers), you’re completely caught off guard.

There stands a rather alarmed looking boy, a towel wrapped around him, tucked under his armpits.

“Oh…this is awkward.” He stutters, trying not to look at your half dressed body, clearly not used to a woman in her bra and underwear. “I-I’m Peter.”

The Avengers who were awake could hear your ear piercing scream.

Steve is immediately on his feet, followed by Natasha and Sam. As they run to the direction it comes from, Bucky steps out of his room just as they pass. Looking around, he calls out.

“Why are you running?”

They don’t answer.

He yawns and walks after them.

Peter is backed into the corner as you scramble to tie a robe around yourself. He looks at the growing mass of energy in your hands and how they’re pointed at him.

“You’re the bug boy? Why are you here?” You shout.

“I can explain! It’s not creepy, I promise!” Then he pauses. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

Steve busts through the door, searching the first section of the room, then turns the corner to where the showers are and sees you threatening to harm the boy.

“Oh now this is funny.” Sam exclaims.

“What the hell is going on?” Steve asks.

“Cap! Tell the crazy lady you know me.” Peter rushes, begging for help.

“I am not crazy.” You warn violently.

“Blue, let the kid go so he can explain himself before you kill him.” Nat says, and slowly you lower your hands and rush to Steve’s side as he motions for you.

“Queens, start explaining.” He barks.

Peter stammers. “Nat said I could use these showers when her and Wanda aren’t! They have better water pressure and I don’t have to deal with the guys…it’s like the high school locker room in there.” He grimaces. “And sometimes when Thor comes to stay, he doesn’t put a towel on! And the room has a funky smell-”

“It’s true, I told him he could use our showers because he means no harm.” Nat defends. “I just…forgot to mention that to Blue since the kid isn’t here too often.”

Sam shakes his head, then looks at Peter. “You really gotta get over your fear of getting jumped in the shower.”

“Some of you guys are a little scary.” Peter says in a quiet tone.

“Like who?” Steve asks dramatically.

Bucky joins the scene. He looks from Peter in a towel to you holding a robe around yourself.

“What the hell is going on?” He asks angrily.

“Like him.” Peter admits.

- - - -

Bucky grunts as he punches the hanging bag next to Steve who is doing the same.

“You want to tell me what’s going on with you?” Steve asks, hair hanging on his forehead as it grows sweaty.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Bucky says.

“You’ve been weirder than normal. Distant, on edge.”

He huffs at Steve’s words, getting a little more aggressive with his punches and kicks. He doesn’t answer him though, so Steve continues.

“…Does it have something to do with Blue?”

Bucky’s punching bag flies off the chain and across the room a ways before it hits the ground with a thud. He stands there, breathing heavily for a moment.

“No, of course not.” He lies.

Steve takes a break like Buck does and gets some water.

He’s known his friend long enough to have learned his habits. Bucky always gives himself up, so all Steve has to do is wait.

“Okay…maybe she has something to do with it.”

“Ha! I knew it!” Steve laughs. “Everyone can see it, you aren’t being sly.”

Bucky shakes his head, looking at the ground for a moment. “Steve, I don’t know what’s going on with me. I was really good at the girl thing, you know that, but she looks at me and I’m just completely out of it. She terrorizes me in the best way, it’s like I can’t sleep without her whispering in my head.”

Steve looks at him with arched brows. “Jeez, sounds like she’s making you remember you have feelings.” He teases.

Bucky shoves his shoulder. “I’m serious, Steve…maybe I have some screwed up complex now because I think I saved her or something.”

Steve sets his water bottle down. “You did save her…and I think part of her is drawn to you because you’re the only one who doesn’t watch her like she’s an alien.”

Bucky scoffs and goes to the sparing ring, putting on gloves. “I show her decency, that’s what does it?”

Steve follows suit. “You know it’s more than that. You want to know what I think?”

Bucky puts his hands up, getting into his stance. “You’re gonna tell me anyway.”

Steve throws the first punch, Bucky blocks it. “I think she’s the only thing that’s gonna get through to you. She scares you because she’s the only thing that feels real. And that’s probably the case for her. Sure, Nat’s lived the runaway assassin life but she can’t offer the comfort Blue craves.”

The two dodge each other’s hits, circling each other.

Bucky tries to process his words. “I don’t think I’m what she needs. She’s still trying to figure out how to function, she needs someone who’s steady enough to show her how. Like you.”

Steve laughs. “I knew you’d say that.”

“You have things figured out, Steve!” Bucky reasons. “And she’s already attached to you.”

“She’s attached to everyone! That’s why it’s called attachment issues. If you were around more, you’d see that she will stitch herself to who she knows is going to be gentle with her. The kid has only known kindness as a reward, you know what that’s like, Buck.”

Of course he knows what that’s like. He knows the starved feeling for a gentle hand.

Steve continues. “You need to trust yourself, I know you think you might make her worse- that you might make yourself worse, but you won’t.”

Bucky blocks a punch. “I never said that.”

Steve throws another. “You didn’t have to. Look, all I’m saying is maybe trying to kill the urge off isn’t the solution, just give into it.”

Silence passes as they continue to work on fighting techniques, then Steve speaks.

“You might be too old for her.” He jokes.

“Shut up.” Bucky grumbles.

- - - -

Sitting in the corner of the common room, you scroll through online tutorials.

It’s a discovery that you enjoy. You could watch them for hours, enjoying the idea of knowing how to do things other than kill.

How to make chicken noodle soup!

Tutorial on how to change car oil!

Fifteen minute tutorial- how to wash, dry and fold laundry perfectly!

How to achieve Hollywood curls!

By the time Bucky walks by, you’re learning how to position a curling iron for flawless hair. He looks around, seeing if anyone else is around.

It’s just you and him.

He watches you for a moment, wondering silently how you can be so content with sitting alone, being alone.

Though your eyes are still cast at the phone screen, you know he’s there. Pulling your headphones off, you look over at him.

“You’re lurking.” You claim, watching him not move an inch.

“Says the girl who hides in large rooms.” He rebuttals.

You smile and look away.

He wants to ask about it, wants to get it out of the way. But in all honesty, he’s afraid of what you’ll say. He’s been out of the game for a while but he knows that a girl running away after a kiss isn’t the best sign.

You stand from the corner, now avoiding his eyes as if it will ease the awkward tension.

“Blue…” He starts to say. “About the other night-”

Oh no.

You’ve ruined it all. He’s going to tell you that you were out of place, that he doesn’t see you in that way.

Your mind spirals, but your saving grace comes for you.

“Blue.” Nat comes into the room. “Come on, we need to get you briefed for tonight.”

You nod and come to her side immediately.

Bucky’s left standing there, cursing himself.

- - - -

You finish your glamorous makeup and hair, then turn to the dress hanging in your closet, the one Natasha let you borrow.

Breathing deeply, you prepare. You’ve done undercover work many times before, but it’s different. You aren’t seeking violence, you’re seeking answers and trying to stop a deal from going down.

If all went well, you’d find The Ring boss who has a client ready to meet the hit woman best suitable for the job. They’ll drink scotch while she aims to carry out her duty.

You can’t let that happen.

The little black dress fit snug in all the right places, a deep v neck line, elegant enough to not raise any suspicion on if you belonged in the establishment or not.

Kicking off your red sneakers, you roll the lace top stockings up your legs and put heels on.

This was a weird feeling.

You hadn’t been this put together in weeks.

Making sure your thigh holster is secure, you leave your bedroom and meet the others.

Tony runs over the plan once more with Steve, Nat adjusts her updo, Bruce goes to get the van ready for the computer crew.

You linger off to the side, legs crossed, silent until Tony looks over to you.

“Wow.” He nods with an impressed look.

Everyone turns, eyes widening.

“Is-is it okay?” You ask, smoothing the dress fabric.

“Woahhh.” Peter exclaims. “You look hot- beautiful- pretty?”

Tony smacks the side of his head.

Nat smiles. “It’s more than okay, Blue.”

As they compliment you, Bucky is standing there with his eyes trained on you, thinking a million thoughts. And sure, everyone is dressed for the occasion, but you’re the best looking one in his eyes.

“Let’s roll out.” Tony says, dragging Peter whose eyes are as wide as saucers, away to the van.

Nat takes your hand and leads you to the first blacked out suv.

Bucky’s feet falter in their step, just so he can watch you get into the back seat with Steve and Nat. Then he’s nudged into the second car by Sam.

“Come on, lover boy.”

“Don’t talk to me.” Bucky huffs.

You’re amazed at the lights of the city, you hadn’t left the compound since you got there so it was all unreal.

“Here, put this in your ear.” Nat says, handing you the ear piece.

After a moment of silence, you speak.

The sound of your voice in his ear makes Bucky jump slightly as you talk to Steve and Nat.

Sam gives him a side eye look.

“Do you guys trust me?” You ask the two that’s with you.

“Of course.” They answer.

You nod. “Good, because you’re going to have to.”

- - - -

“What is this music?” Steve frowns.

“Nobody plays jazz in clubs anymore.” Tony says through the ear piece. “Alright, Peter and Bruce have visuals, the club cameras are on the screens in front of us.” He states.

You look around at the populated club. “We need to split up.”

Nat nods, then takes off in one direction while you go another. Steve is left to try and act like he belongs there.

“Maybe sending Cap in here wasn’t the best choice.” Sam chuckles as he sees him stick out like a thumb.

“Yeah, relax Steve, you look like someone’s dad.” Nat says, searching the crowd for the suspect.

“More like someone’s grandpa.” Bucky smirks.

“You have no room to talk, Pal.” Steve defends.

You find the bar and lounge on a chair, watching the crowd carefully.

“What can I get you?” The bartender asks.

You slide him a large bill. “Assistance. You think you can do that for me?” You ask with smile.

He smirks and takes the money. “Your wish is my command.”

No mind altering needed, guys were easy.

“Perfect. Get me water in a martini glass, make it look fancy.” You state, then go back to watching.

“How are we supposed to know what the hitman looks like? Hit-woman? Hit-person? Sorry, what are we calling this girl?” Sam asks from the upstairs balcony.

“Look for a woman who’s with an older man. He’ll be wearing the best suit, she’ll be wearing something easy to hide a weapon.” You answer, bringing your faux cocktail to your lips.

“Blue, there’s a body guard to your right, I believe.” Bruce speaks, and you slowly look over your shoulder.

“You’re very correct.” You nod, then turn to the bartender. “You see that guy over there with the buzz cut? Give him a free drink when he comes over.”

The man nods and doesn’t ask any questions.

You eye the body guard that’s posted by an exit, silently luring him in. And everything goes to plan, he gets a free drink, he sits beside you, he’s impressed by your Russian dialect.

Then you invite him to follow you to a storage closet where you send his body straight back into the wall. He folds onto the ground, letting you search him.

“The south exit is free now, there should be a guard posted at each one.” You huff as you toss his gun to the side and search his pockets.

No information.

Bucky looks around, seeing the man standing at the exit he’s walking past. Making sure no one is paying attention, he makes his move, dragging the man out the back door and making sure he stays there.

“West exit is free.” He says.

“Are we just going to ignore the fact that Blue lured that bad guy into a closet?” Peter asks Tony.

Tony sighs. “Everybody has their ways.”

“I have eyes on the suspect, Adolf is in the upstairs vip lounge.” Nat says.

“That’s a horrible name.” Steve comments.

“It’s a little fitting in my opinion.” Bucky hums, moving in closer to the crowd.

If the client was here, that means the target is lurking around somewhere.

And The Ring members would be here soon.

“I thought Adolf Hitler was a saint?” You say, combing some curls back.

“Blue, we’re gonna need to have a serious history lesson.” Steve cringes.

“I guess I shouldn’t say what The Ring told me about Stalin.” You mumble.

“North exit is clear.” Sam says, grunting as he kicks the body guards body into the music equipment room.

The main doors open, and in comes a man. On his arm is a young girl, behind them are two more guards.

“I think the boss is here.” You say.

Tony starts barking out orders, making sure you’re all positioned correctly.

“Make sure SHIELD is on standby.” Steve states. “I don’t plan on hanging out here.”

“I need eyes in the vip section. Blue and Barnes, you’re up.” Tony instructs.

“What?” You squeak out.

“Move your asses.” Is your only response.

You look back at the bartender. “How many people are behind the bar in the vip lounge?” You ask.

“Two.” He answers in confusion at your urgency.

“Is there any other separate rooms attached to the lounge?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“How many guests are allowed in?”

He takes your glass. “Only four parties are, but the room is booked out completely by one party.”

You quickly run through a plan in your head. “Thanks, you’ve been really helpful.”

Swiftly moving through the crowd, Bucky appears at your side. Starting up the stares to the vip room, you turn to him.

“Room upstairs is clear, two civilians, I guess maybe four or five guards.” You say to the team, then turn to Bucky.

“Let me handle this, okay?” You ask.

He holds your eye. “No promises.”

At the top of the stairs, you button his suit jacket for him and grip onto his bicep.

He looks at you questionably, but you have a serious look about you as you approach the bouncer guarding the entrance.

“This room is booked.” He says.

“Not anymore.” You grin.

Bucky watches as the mans eyes glow an alluring blue color, and as you speak in an almost seductive tone, the man steps away and lets the two of you inside.

“What did you do?” Bucky asks in your ear as he guides you to the booth across from the one where the deal is going on.

“Are you really asking that question?” You state, subtly looking over at the meeting.

You make a quick scan of the room. Adolf has an additional two guards, making this situation outnumbered.

“I need Steve and Nat close by.” You say.

“You wanna let me know this plan you have?” Bucky asks, trying to act naturally but you’re sitting beside him, almost too perfectly close.

“If we let that girl out of our sight, it’s game over.” You mutter to him. “The guards have to go down first, Adolf isn’t going to be armed, the boss is. You leave the girl to me.”

“No.” Bucky immediately says.

“James.” You plead. “You have to trust this.”

“I don’t. It seems too easy.” He argues.

“Trust me, it’s not.” You breathe, looking away to the man staring at the two of you.

He motions for his guard to go talk to the bouncer, surely to complain that they paid good money for the room and he let strangers in.

“A guard is heading your way.” You warn the ones outside the door.

“SHIELD is outside, we need to get this wrapped up.” Bruce says.

“The guard’s dealt with, say the word and we’ll come in.” Nat says.

You look up at Bucky. “Stick to the plan.”

The girl stands after she’s given an instruction.

You follow the action, calmly coming up on her side.

“Count of five.” Bucky signals to everyone.

1…

The men take notice of you following their assassin.

2…

She looks at you with a dangerous look.

3…

You grab her by the back of the neck, sweep her legs out from under her and put her on the ground.

4…

Bucky rushes from the booth and to the guards who draw their guns.

5

The rest of the team bursts in.

It’s a dog fight, shots are being fired, and the girl quickly gains control of the situation. One moment, you have her pinned, the other she’s teleported behind you.

“I can help you.” You try to reason, your power gathered in your palms. “Позвольте мне помочь.”

She looks at you strangely before she attacks.

Downstairs, SHIELD agents are busting, causing a commotion. Adolf tries to escape, only for Nat to hold him at gun point.

The three remaining guards put up a fight, much like this girl you truly don’t want to hurt.

“я могу освободить тебя!” You reason, blocking her attacks, trying to wrangle the knife from her hands.

The guards are down, agents are coming into the room.

And what no one expects is for the boss to pull his gun from his jacket. With one single command from him, the girl moves away from you and drops the knife.

Before Bucky can even react and disarm the man, he fires the shot and the girl falls to the floor.

“No!” You scream, scrambling to her. Her shaky hands can barely cover the wound to her chest, it bleeds violently.

“No, no, no.” You panic, pulling her into your lap. Applying pressure to the wound, she gurgles and sputters, looking up at you. “Someone get a medic right now!” You scream.

You don’t know what’s happening around you, but everything slows as agents haul off the two guilty men.

“You’re okay. С тобой все будет в порядке.” You promise her, blood coating your hands and dress.

She looks up at you with fear, but eventually a weak smile pulls on her lips. She coughs up crimson, then puts her hand over yours and goes still.

“Blue…” Bucky approaches.

Tears fall from your eyes, hot with anger.

“Blue.” He says again, crouching to touch your shoulder.

You swallow harshly. “She’s gonna be fine, right? Right, James? SHIELD can save her like they saved me? Right, James?” You plead.

Everyone looks away, two agents come to pull the strangers body from you.

“Blue…let’s go home.” Is all he says, pulling you back as the girl is taken.

He helps you stand, all you can do is stare at your red hands and the stained dress.

You are no stranger to being covered in blood, but for once, this isn’t a life you took.

Why does it still feel like your fault?

You’re not sure who wipes your hands clean, or how you manage to make it out of the building. There’s news outlets waiting, there’s cameras flashing and people yelling questions or people yelling at the reporters to get back.

You’re getting wrapped in Bucky’s jacket and put into the back of a car.

The city lights don’t matter to you anymore, everyone’s mood is solemn.

“Sorry that your dress is ruined, Nat.” You speak almost ghostly.

“I was going to let you keep it anyway.” She responds.

- - - -

It’s 3 am.

You’re at the kitchen island with a pen and paper, trying to rewrite the events, trying to come up with a different outcome like it’s a math solution.

You don’t look up when you feel his presence. “Hello, James.” You mumble.

“It’s really late.” He states. “Maybe you should go to bed?”

Your hair is damp from a shower, makeup long gone, you’re wearing boxer shorts and a long sleeve shirt to keep the chill off.

“I’ve written out five different scenarios.” You state. “And they all show one thing. We should have disarmed him sooner. Of course he was going to kill her, it made sense, that’s what they do. One wrong move, they have to cut their losses. They’ll never let anyone have their creations.”

Bucky frowns and comes forward. “You need to stop thinking about this.”

You shake your head. “304. That was her number. They’ll have to replace her. We should be on the lookout for that.”

“Blue…will you please let this rest until tomorrow?”

You ignore him and shuffle your note pad to a blank page, starting to right down a potential plan. “This will be reported to Head Father, that the boss of the bosses, he oversees all four divisions.”

“I thought there was five divisions.”

You stop writing.

“There was, I am the last of the fifth division.” You say simply.

Bucky leans on the island beside you.

As you write, you take a shaky breath. “When the scientist messed up, he was executed. We were transported to the warehouse in Vermont and the others were shot one by one until the man came to me…and I made him turn the gun on himself like I made that bouncer let us pass. I ran like hell, somehow ended up in the city and well, you know the rest.”

Bucky doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t look at you in horror, just…looks at you.

“That is what The Ring does. We are only important if we are doing our labor correctly, otherwise we are just abominations.” You finally look at him, your throat bobs. “I forgot that, and that girl died…so I won’t forget it again.”

He breathes out and nods. You’re standing there with a determined look, broken in a way he isn’t, and he’s never been more clear of his feelings for you. He’d fight whatever battle you asked him to, he knows that for certain. He’d do it if it was his hand you were holding.

“There’s a word, alexthymia, it means you can’t express how you feel.” You say. “It might just be the thing I suffer from because I am so angry and sad, and here I am, trying to rewrite history.” You dryly laugh, shoulders shaking until it turns into a sob.

It’s a silent one that stops your breathing.

Bucky feels like a fool, standing there, watching you break down. It occurs to him that this entire time, he hasn’t seen you cry.

Slowly, cautiously, he pulls you into him. Your face buries in his chest, his hand on the back of your head as you take in broken breaths. At first, your hands are balled into fists, but as you slowly fall into that warm feeling of him, they relax and your arms twist around him.

He’s not sure how long the two of you stand like this, but Bucky is the most comfortable he’s ever been.

Eventually, you pull back and wipe your eyes.

His hand gently strokes down your hair as he looks down at you with care.

There it is, another feeling you’re not sure how to express.

Slowly, your hand raises, the tips of your fingers gently pressing to his lips, imitating the action he did the night before.

Bucky smiles, letting out a small breath. “Please don’t run away this time.” He whispers, gently grabbing your hand and leaning down to you.

Your eyes widen as he kisses you, but after a short moment, your body softly hums in delight and your eyes drift closed. One arm around his neck, you breathe him in deeply, utterly lost in the feeling as you kiss him back meaningfully. It’s not hungry, not lustrous, it caring and slow and something so kind, full of emotion the two of you can’t figure out what to do with.

He pulls you in closer, his hands have never held anything the way they hold you. Even as he pulls away, he keeps you right where you are, watching as you chase his lips for a moment.

“Your heart’s beating really fast.” You tell him and he nods.

“Yours is too.”

There’s not many words spoken as he takes you to your room, making you promise you’ll get some sleep.

You don’t let go of his hand though as he drops you off.

“Can you…stay? Please?” You whisper, afraid of disappointment.

He should say no. What is something happens? What if he has a nightmare and hurts you?

Bucky takes a second, then nods.

Your room is bare, blank walls, a few things on your desk, a grey comforter on the bed.

Nervously, you pull the blanket back and lay on your side of the bed. Bucky watches you roll onto your side, facing the window. He pulls his shirt off, drops it to the floor and comes to the vacant side.

Staring at the ceiling, he determines that he’ll stay until you’re asleep, then go back to his bed on the floor.

He won’t, though, that’s just the nervous side of his brain talking.

You roll over, wordlessly curling into his side, tucking your head against his shoulder, face buried into his neck.

He processes this choice, and though he’s afraid, he smiles and wraps an arm around you.

- - - -

He’s never slept so peacefully.

When daylight comes and he’s finally woken, you’re still sleeping softly, hand gripping his dog tags.

He doesn’t want to move you, but he really should get up and go back to his room, go take a shower.

Carefully, he untangles you from him and waits to make sure you don’t stir awake before he slips from the room.

Rubbing his eyes as he opens the door, Bucky steps out into the hall, only to be met with Peter.

“Bugboy.” He grunts.

Peter, obviously surprised, holds a flower in his hand.

“Oh h-hey, Bucky.” He awkwardly said, then clears his throat and makes his voice deeper. “I was just seeing if Blue was alright.”

Bucky looks the kid up and down. “She’s alright.”

“Well I’ll just…leave this note for her.” He says, putting the note and flower at the door.

“You do know that she’s too old for you, right?” Bucky asks, amused by the pining.

“Some could argue you’re too old for her.” He chuckles.

Bucky glares.

Peter walks off.

[littlestarbigsky]

hey yall so i have covid (im feeling okay! my symptoms have been pretty mild :) so i’m about to have so much time to write- anyways here’s pt. 2 of this fic (it’s not technically a chapter fic but it’s also based off the idea of pony w breathing problems :)

so here’s darry helping pony with a breathing treatment, slight emetophobia warning (nothing graphic but it’s there)

“alright, kiddo, just try one more time for me, in and out, okay?”

darry knew if he couldn’t get pony under control soon, they’d probably have to go to the hospital. aside from them definitely not being able to afford hospital care on top of all of pony’s already very expensive treatment regiment, four trips to the hospital since september would definitely prompt a visit from social services. darry knew there was a chance they would take his brothers away, and even though it killed him to admit it, they’d be perfectly within their rights to do it.

the breath pony dragged in didn’t ease darry’s racing mind at all, especially not after he’d already used his inhaler twice.

it had all started with a small head cold, nothing out of the ordinary, especially since it was still february, but as all things did nowadays with pony, the illness had gone straight to his lungs. darry could hear him wheezing just standing up cutting vegetables for dinner, he was using his inhaler much more, and that dry, chesty, cough just didn’t seem to want to go away.

soda was normally the one who could take care of this, he knew all the tricks to get pony’s breathing calmed back down, but he was working a double and he made extra if he stayed after closing, so darry had no choice but to hunker down and prepare as much as he could. darry had initially brought pony into the bathroom and turned on the shower, the knob turned as hot as it would go, hoping that the steam would help with the cough, even if it was just for a few minutes.

at first, it had seemed like it was working, but when pony’s coughing fits started, it seemed like they never stopped. darry tried to get them under control, he really did, using all of their tricks he had already learned: deep pressure hugs, putting vapo-rub on his chest and neck, changing pony’s position about 100 times, nothing was working.

after an hour, he was seriously beginning to worry, sitting on the bathroom floor with a wheezing ponyboy leaning back against his chest, wrapped in a blanket. darry opened up the bathroom cupboard next to them and pulled out pony’s nebulizer.

“darry…” pony whined quietly, and darry felt him go tense.

“i know, honey, but we gotta get all this coughing under control,” darry ran a hand through pony’s hair, digging around in the cabinet for the medicine to put in the machine. “if this doesn’t calm down we gotta go to the hospital. and i’m gonna put more of that vapo-rub on you, that helped a little bit earlier.”

pony didn’t say anything. darry did what he could to convince himself it was because pony was conceding, however out of character that was for him. it was easier to tell himself that than think that he wasn’t complaining because he didn’t have the spare breath to.

he got the nebulizer set up and plugged in, all the while keeping pony leaned against him.

“alright, this should be good to go. can you sit up against the wall for me, little man? i gotta get the vapo-rub.”

pony shifted back and took the mouthpiece from darry as he turned it on, crawling across the bathroom floor to the edge of the bathtub where he had set up all of the supplies they may need. he picked up the tub of vapo-rub and shifted back over to pony, who was slumped against the wall, pulling in sad, short breaths.

“this might be a little cold, kiddo,” darry said softly. pony’s t-shirt had been balled up against the door so it wouldn’t stick to the vapo-rub earlier, so darry just pushed the blanket out of the way. they both pretended not to notice darry trying to feel pony’s heartbeat as he rubbed the gel over his chest. pony squeezed his eyes shut and darry felt his chest contract as he started coughing.

it felt like it would never stop once he got going, he dropped the nebulizer and pulled the blanket tighter around himself as he coughed uncontrollably. all darry could do was pull his little brother into his chest and pray that it would end soon. he knew how much pony hated the hospital, that they would just poke him and give him meds that made him feel funny and tired, but anything had to be better than this.

“i know, it’s okay, it’ll be over soon,” darry comforted, holding pony tight to him.

after a few more minutes, pony gagged and for a second it seemed like it was going to stop, but darry knew what was coming. he wasn’t sure how, but something in him knew to move pony as fast as he could. pony weakly pushed himself up onto his knees and threw up into the toilet.

it was miserable while it was happening. when he was done, he leaned back against the bathtub and pulled his knees up to his chest. darry slid over and pulled pony back into his arms, and as soon as the security of darry had wrapped itself around pony, the tears started.

“hey, don’t cry now, baby, i know that was lousy, but it’s over,” darry reached over and grabbed pony’s cup of water and held it for him as he drank feebly from the straw. “small sips, okay?”

even though it killed darry that pony had gotten sick, at least he wasn’t coughing anymore. he was able to get down some of his water and washed the foul taste out of his mouth.

“listen,” darry whispers, resting his cheek on pony’s head, one grounding hand on his chest while the other rubbed circles over his back. “can you try to do a little more of your treatment?”

pony sniffled, but nodded eventually. darry shuffled them both back over to the nebulizer, cradling pony in his lap and holding the mouthpiece for him as he breathed in the medicine.

pony was dead asleep when soda finally cracked open the bathroom door, darry holding their baby brother to his chest, the breathing treatment almost finished. maybe it was the blanket he was wrapped up in, or maybe it was because he was all curled up in a ball against their brother who was pretty big by any standard, but he looked so small. grease washed out of his hair, his skin pale and clammy, and their big brother rocking him gently, keeping him asleep while the medicine worked its way into his aching lungs.

“need me to take over?” soda asked quietly, and darry looked up at him.

darry shook his head, “i got him for now, go get changed and shower. i'm gonna bring him to sleep with me tonight.”

soda nodded, "i'll put away the nebulizer, you get him to bed."

once the treatment had finished, darry scooped pony up and carried him the few steps down the hall to his bedroom, gently setting him down on the bed before changing his own clothes. he slid into bed, pulling up the covers and tucking pony against him, his little wheezes finally starting to lighten up.

it wasn't perfect, but maybe it didn't have to be. darry could feel pony's heart beating and the deep breaths he was pulling in, and as much as he hated that pony needed a breathing treatment to get him to that point, it was worth it. if it meant that he didn't have to wake up coughing and not able to catch his breath. maybe his lungs would never really recover, but they knew how to get him better when they needed to. it was gonna be okay.

darry was almost alseep when soda quietly opened the door, hair soft and damp after his shower and dressed a pair of darry's old sweatpants, cuffed twice at the bottom because of how long they were. darry waved him over, and soda smiled, piling in next to his brothers and wrapping himself around pony’s other side.

“he sleeping?” soda whispered, darry barely nodded, exhaustion taking over. “good, don’t tell him i did this.”

soda pressed a gentle kiss to pony’s head and laid back down, already feeling drowsy next to his two sleeping brothers.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

It's time for everyone's favorite Incorrect quotes!! with everyone's favorite snack Gummy Worm!!

Ben: Why can't anything In Iowa be normal? Even the f'real machines are called Bo'real machines

Jeff holding up different flavors: None of these flavors even make sense! "Oak", "Spruce", and fucking "Termite Pussy"

Tim: WHY IS IT ASKING ME MY SOCIAL SECURITY CARD NUMBER FOR A FUCKING MILKSHAKE!?

Toby who surprisingly knows how it works: You just gotta jiggle it or it won't grind

Sully: Looking at you infuriates me

Jeff:...

Sully:...

Jeff:...

Sully looking at the camera: There is no punchline I just really hate Jeff

Slender's Dad: And that's why our company gives you .0001% interest each year

Customer: Hmmm nah I think I'll take my extra money and put it into stocks...Or under my bed

Slender's Dad:...

Slender"s Dad looking absolutely disgusted and appalled: WHO TAUGHT YOU POOR PEOPLE TO TRADE STOCKS!?

Y/N standing outside in the rain holding a sterio: 🎶Take me ooon (take on me) I'll be gone🎶

Ben opening his window: You couldn't have picked a better love song?

Toby coming out and turning off the sterio: You know what? you ain't shit-

Slender: Your weapon of choice can't be mumble rap. It doesn't even make any sense

Y/N: Just fucking watch me

Later

Y/N holding a microphone: sgevcnjgf3673tvweuh wqdbw4ujcwyhbgksaehbcbddbdfjhbccbvvvvvvfhnnjknn

Target:

Target: Man just fucking kill me

(no offense to anyone who likes mumble rap I just thought it was funny)

Jeff: Dude have you seen the baby starfish I'm supposed to take to the zoo

L.J. eating a bowl of cereal: You mean those little dudes that look like cereal *takes bite*

L.J.:

I have some bad news for you man

Ben: Right we'd only get three wishes so lets say them I'll go fist

Ben: I'd wish to end hunger

Y/N: I'd wish for peace

Jeff: I'd wish for a pair of rockin' tits

I was having a bad morning and you just made it so much better. The one with Slender’s dad and the Jeff wanting tits ones are so fucking accurate. Also the mumble rap that was very funny. Thank you as always for blessing the blog with your quotes they are always very silly

[neonbuck]

I wish the posts warning people about the term “degenerate” and its fash/Nazi usage would like. Start saying “hey, if you call people degenerates, maybe ask your self why you think that’s ok to do?”

Like why do you even want a class of people in your head that you get to label as fucked up and inferior? when you do that, who does that benefit…?

this is not meant as a guilt trippy thing. I’m pretty sure I used to use “degenerate” too when I hung around garbage twitter furry friend groups. these are the questions I eventually asked my self, and fixed the way I treated others for the better.

[waywardsalt]

with my phantom hourglass replay, there are two things i noticed;

a possible theme you could glean from the game is action vs inaction, and i think it's especially prevalent before you even leave mercay the first time, with oshus frequently urging link to not go after the ghost ship, then to just wait until the broken bridge is fixed, and seems reluctant at every turn while link and ciela are more than eager to go and do something about this problem, and the people of mercay in general talking about things and their problems but never seeming to act on their fears or desires, as well as the mention that due to the ghost ship, very very few people are still sailing around, while linebeck is one of the only people we see in the game actively going after the ghost ship and still sailing around. i might make a longer post just talking more about the action vs inaction in phantom hourglass but i just noticed it a bit and thought it was a bit of an interesting sort of theme you could find in the game.

linebeck moves so fucking much. i think he moves more than any npc in the rest of the game. not just in his intro cutscene where he is very animated, just in how much he moves when just standing in his little idle post, it's damn near distracting when the camera is focused on him, he moves a lot. i don't think i've really acknowledged how much he moves, and it really gives the impression that he's antsy or eager to get going, both of which fit him pretty well with how he acts.

[famewolf]

practicing vulnerability around people who are not my husband is so exhausting, but it's good work (I promise to myself)

[tariah23]

Now he’s trying to lie when he literally tagged Princeton like 5 fucking time. White people are so evil, bro. They always know what they’re doing when they do shit like that. With the attempt to bring harm to Black people who they want to “get out of the way,” because they don’t think that we belong in the same spaces as them while at the same time, believing they should be allowed INTO our spaces and afforded hospitality and a whole red carpet rolled out. The sad thing is, she has connections to the industry because of her uncle and name so what if this was just a random Black woman who worked for Princeton without this kind of protection at all…?

[elegyofthemoon]

reading springfest now after everything in nagazora is making me crave more fu hua and mei interactions. i feel like thus far in my go through, i've never actually seen them interact, but it's kinda fun that the person who made the recommended reading order put springfest after nagazora (though of course this is probably in preparation for whatevers going on with senti/fu hua rn in ch 19)

but the way that the empyrea isolates herself so she doesn't have any attachment to those who she will outlive and how she winds up becoming lonely as a result threw me back to mei isolating herself in world serpent so that she can protect kiana and just... idk..... i think the two talk about that isolation would be interesting

also. i love fu hua. she's still at the top of my list for best character so i'm just a happy little guy getting more fu hua content now in the story :> yippee fu hua