#fic: we go together like peanut butter and jelly

[wndaswife]

holaaa! for the celebration: 54, 116 and 117 from the smut prompt list? and is it possible to do it with the dom possessive wanda from your teachers pet fic?

wanda maximoff & fem!reader

tags: smut, fluff, jealous and possessive behaviour, praise, cunnilingus, mommy kink, dom!teacher's pet!wanda maximoff, sub!reader

word count: 1662

a/n: messed with the original fic’s timeline a little bit for the sake of this one!

teacher's pet

“Next month’s your last month with us, isn’t it?” Pepper asks, peeling open the top of her cup of yogurt.

You nod after swallowing a mouthful of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich Wanda made for you before you left the house together that morning. Along with the sandwich, she packed you a medley of cut vegetables and fruits that were always decorated in some shape of an animal.

Natasha speaks as she’s leaning back in her seat, chair tipping backwards dangerously, “No way. It’s been, what, just a few months since you started here, right?”

“That’s how long internships usually are. And Y/N came here during the beginning of this semester. We were very lucky,” Maria says.

You flush. You had been the lucky one, truly, to have been able to work at the high school. Through your teacher’s assistant position here, you were able to meet your girlfriend and some of your close friends. “I’ve really enjoyed working here,” you comment, fiddling with a slice of strawberry with your fork.

A hand is suddenly placed on your thigh under the staff room lunch table, and when you turn, Agatha is smiling at you. You hadn’t been able to transfer to Wanda’s classroom to assist her instead of Agatha. Your position under Agatha was always a sensitive topic for Wanda, and she took you away from her at every moment she could. Lunch was always spent with Wanda, whether in her classroom or elsewhere, and you always left as soon as you could once class ended, otherwise Wanda would come and take you with her by force if Agatha had held you back.

“We’ve enjoyed having you here too, Y/N,” Agatha tells you. Fingers squeeze around your upper thigh.

At that very moment, the door to the staff room opens and Wanda walks in, a tumbler of hot coffee and a container of lunch in-hand. Her eyes rake over the women at the table, lingering on Agatha for several moments, before she walks over to you with a smile forming.

You're confused when she sets her lunch down between you and Agatha and you look back to see Wanda pulling a chair out from the table behind and forcing it between you and her. Your arm jerks back to avoid getting hit by the chair. Agatha does the same.

“Wanda,” Pepper greets with a smile as she watches her push Agatha away from you.

Wanda nods at her in polite acknowledgment before turning to you with the first real smile since she’s stepped into the staff room. “Do you like the lunch I made you?” she asks. You nod and she smiles wider, appreciatively.

The end of the day comes quickly after you spend lunch with Wanda. There’s something you love so much about walking down the halls with her, especially when going home. She wraps an arm around your hips or takes your hand with hers while she asks you what you want for dinner or if you want to go out together. You’ve grown to love that kind of domesticity with her.

Agatha’s voice interrupts your daydreaming about your girlfriend while you’re packing your bag, “Come here for a moment, Y/N.” You turn to her, and then Wanda’s classroom across the hall. “Don’t worry. It’ll be quick,” she adds, and you lay your bag down and around the desks to her.

Her body turns to you when you stand by her desk, her fingers tapping absently atop it. “I take it you’ve gone public with Wanda, have you?” she inquires, though it feels more like an interrogation.

Wanda’s rants about Agatha repeat in your mind as you contemplate answering her about your relationship. She had said that Agatha had no place in your relationship, and she was always one to be judgemental about her. They’d been close friends once before, and you wonder if Agatha was genuinely curious about Wanda’s relationship.

You nod finally, hesitantly. When Agatha laughs, goosebumps run up your arms. How could you escape her criticism once it starts? You imagined Wanda reprimanding you on your way home and you sinking into the passenger's seat, apologising profusely. What would you tell her after she’d warned you plenty?

“And how is that going, darling?” Agatha asks after her laughing had ceased enough for her to talk. “She’s treating you well?” You cannot tell if she is mocking you, which makes you all the more desperate to flee.

“She treats me well,” you answer meekly. You will Wanda to come into the classroom and pull you away, hoping she’d hear your thoughts somehow.

What looks like a restrained smirk pulls at Agatha’s lips. It would only be a few more weeks until summer break, then you’d get to spend the next few months with Wanda, and Wanda only. You envision your summer together as you distract yourself from Agatha’s teasing.

“Wanda’s gone through plenty of young girls in her life, Y/N. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re just another one of her toys,” Agatha tells you. The words make your head rise from the foot of her desk to her face.

You protest immediately, “I’m not Wanda’s toy.”

The brunette steps towards you. “Are you certain about that, darling? You know, with me, you’d never have to doubt anything. I’d treat you well, baby.”

Suddenly, your shoulders raise and you step back from Agatha, hostility rising up in you. You tell her sternly, “I don’t like that. I love working here and I love Wanda. I want a professional relationship between the two of us and that’s all.” You don’t realise your voice was raised until the moment you stop speaking and feel a strain in your throat.

“Is there a problem here?” a voice snaps from behind you. You turn around and find Wanda standing at the door. A dozen weights lift from your shoulders and you round the table between Agatha’s desk and the door, taking your bag and joining her side.

“Everything’s alright here, sweetness,” Agatha replies, her voice sickly sweet.

Wanda takes your wrist and pulls you behind her. “Agatha,” she starts, her voice so cold it makes you shiver, “if I ever see you badgering Y/N again, I’m going to send a report for sexual harassment to Rogers and have you fired. Leave Y/N alone.”

She pulls the door away from the adjacent wall and slams it shut, causing you to bury your face against her back. Wanda turns to wrap an arm around your shoulders as the two of you head back to her classroom and presses a kiss to the side of your head.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to have her bother you,” you say into her side as you squeeze your arms around her waist. Her classroom door shuts behind the two of you quietly. “It’s my fault. I knew what you told me and I still gave into her.”

Without warning, Wanda leans down to kiss you, your back pushed up against her classroom door harshly. The act brings back memories to the first time the two of you kissed all those months ago. “Not your fault, precious angel,” Wanda utters against the crook of your neck. “She’s a bitch. I shouldn’t have left my sensitive little baby alone with her.” Her tongue darts out to run up your warm skin. “I just hope you don’t forget who you belong to, hm?”

“I would never,” you answer her, screwing your eyes shut to restrain your moans. “W-Wanda, please, we’re still at work.”

“You’re the one who got me worked up, so let’s have some fun,” she chuckles in response and sucks at the lobe of your ear gently.

“What do you mean? What did I do?”

“I heard what you were saying before I interrupted,” Wanda says and lifts her head to trail kisses up your cheeks, then to your temples, then down the bridge of your nose to your lips. “You were so sexy defending mommy like that.” Your cheeks flush a light pink and Wanda laughs at the sight.

You stutter for a response and place your hands on Wanda’s hips. She parts from your lips just enough so she can flick the tip of her tongue against them.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel really good,” Wanda assures and nips at the tip of your nose teasingly. She places her hands on both sides of your waist and lowers herself down to your knees. The sight of your girlfriend on her knees while she eats you out sends warmth through your chest as you recall the first time the two of you fucked in the very classroom.

Her tongue flicks over the hood of your clit before her lips wrap around your sensitive nub, sucking gently as three fingers pumped in and out of your hole, bringing you to your fourth and final orgasm simply with her tongue and fingers. Your legs are nearly about to give out, to turn into jelly as your body melts on top of her.

Wanda wraps her lips around her fingers and sucks your juices from them. She kissed your lips and wrapped her arms around your hips to hold you up. "You were right before, Y/N," she says. "You're not a toy to me. I love you so much. You'll always be my special baby."

You don’t hesitate even a moment before responding with, “I love you too.”

You help Wanda pack her things before she locks her classroom up and walks down the hallways with you hand-in-hand. She swings your arm forward and back, your shoulders brushing as you walk beside each other.

“What are you thinking for dinner, baby?” Wanda asks you.

After a moment of consideration, you reply, “Balsamic bruschetta?”

“Done. Let’s make a stop at the grocery store before we go home.” She presses a kiss to your cheek when the two of you reach the parking lot and step into her red Buick.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda x reader #marvel smut #wanda maximoff fanfiction #mommy wanda maximoff #marvel fanfiction #1k celebration ♪( ´▽｀)

[rainisawriter]

The Sun & Moon – Bernie (PSF #6)

Ficography

Genre: Fluff, angst, halloween

Prompt: Corn Maze (@flufftober)

Word Count: 6,105

Pairing: Reader x Bernie

World: High&Low

Warning: Spider warning ⚠️ for my arachnophobic brothers and sisters.

A/N: This fic started my “hopelessly in love with Ice” phase *sobs

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

“Babe!” Bernie threw his arms around you from behind, a bright grin on his face. “Guess what.”

You hummed, leaning into his hold. “Do you actually want me to guess or is it rhetorical?” 

“Guess.”

You tapped your chin in thought. “You finally decided that it’s time to get a pet cat.”

He groaned at the guess, pulling away with a pout. “Not even close.”

The subject of getting a cat had come up on more than a few occasions. You absolutely adored cats and wanted one desperately. Your boyfriend was a bit harder to convince than you had originally anticipated.

It’s not that Bernie didn’t like cats, he just didn’t trust them around his things. Every time he considered getting a cat, he would picture his designer clothes covered in fur or his albums being destroyed. He had worked hard to earn the things he had and he would be damned before he let an animal ruin them.

You chuckled, leaning back against the counter. “Tell me.”

“A celebrity hired the Mighty Warriors to perform at his Halloween party!” He grinned, excitement dancing in his eyes. “We got to see the mansion before taking the job and it’s huge. He even has a corn maze set up out back.”

“That’s great, Bernie. I’m proud of you,” you offered him a genuine smile, taking his hand in yours. “I hope you have fun.”

“You’re coming with me, idiot~” He sang, bringing you closer so he could give you a peck on the lips.

Your brow furrowed, body tensing. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“You have to go,” he pleaded. “You’ve never seen us perform before and I even remixed one of your favorite songs for the party.”

“Which one?”

“It’s a secret! You’ll only know if you come with me.”

“Can I have a hint?”

He hummed, a smirk on his lips. “I don’t know. Do you deserve a hint?”

You knew what he wanted and you chuckled, pulling him closer until your lips met his, dancing in a slow, passionate embrace that left you both breathless. “Happy?”

“When I’m with you? Always,” he breathed out, rubbing your side with his thumb. “Fine, I’ll give you a hint. It’s a Bad Omens song.”

Your eyes lit up, excitement filling you. “Really? Ah, but that doesn’t narrow it down at all. They have so many good songs!”

Bernie nodded in agreement, feeling pride settle in his chest when he saw how happy you looked. “You gotta come with me to find out.”

You bit your lip, knowing you were going to regret this. “Okay.”

“Yes!” He threw his arms around you and lifted you up, spinning you in circles until both of you were dizzy. Laughter filled the room as he stumbled into the counter. “I love you so much, baby.”

“I love you, too. More than anything else in this world.” You cupped his face, bringing your lips to his once more.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

You watched Bernie as he walked up and down the seemingly endless aisles in the Halloween store, muttering under his breath as he searched for the perfect costume. This was going to be your first Halloween together and he wanted it to be perfect. That started with the perfect costume, but he was struggling to choose a good one.

To him, they were either too gaudy or just downright ugly. Most of them were skimpy, too, which he had no intention of wearing or letting you wear. A vampire, perhaps? No, that was far too basic. Pirates, maybe? It was another basic choice, though he was confident he could rock that eyepatch.

Peanut butter and jelly couple costume? Dumb.

Ghostface was cool, but then you wouldn’t be able to see his beautiful face and he couldn’t see yours.

Hogwarts uniforms would look cool, but he knew it was a popular choice.

Could he convince you to go as a Mortal Kombat character? He doubted it since you weren’t fond of fighting games.

He figured he might be able to convince you to go for Apex Legends, but the store had no costumes for the game.

Bernie scowled, removing his hat so he could run a hand through his hair. “Baby, what if we -” he paused when he realized you were no longer following him. “Babe?”

You had wandered off to the opposite end of the store, hands buried in your pockets as you looked at all of the costumes on display. There were hundreds of them lining the walls, from floor to ceiling. Most of them looked pretty cool, though there were a few that were questionable. 

You loved SpongeBob as much as the next mostly functioning adult, but an inflatable SpongeBob costume? You couldn’t be paid to wear that. Just the thought of how hot it must be inside that thing made you uncomfortable.

Arms wrapped around your waist from.behind, the scent of your boyfriend’s cologne filling your nose as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Did you find anything, baby?”

“Nothing that really stands out,” you commented, leaning your head back to get a better look at the costumes at the top of the wall. “You?”

“Nope,” he frowned. “I don’t remember it being this hard to choose a good costume.”

“It’s always been hard for me. Way too many choices.”

“It’s a good and bad thing. I’m determined, though. I’ll stay here for a week if that’s what it takes.”

You laughed at the comment. “I’m pretty sure this store isn’t open 24/7.”

“You’d be surprised what people are willing to become for the right price,” he grinned.

You were about to retort when a costume caught your eye. “Can I suggest one?”

“Of course! You don’t even have to ask.” He released you, giving you an expectant look. “Lay it on me.”

“Would you consider… Harley Quinn and the Joker from Suicide Squad?” You glanced at him hopefully and he frowned.

“Are you sure? Harley’s outfit is pretty revealing…” Bernie didn’t consider him to be a jealous man, but he also didn’t like people staring at you, especially knowing that you didn’t like attention.

“I was thinking I could modify it to be more personal, ya know? I thought I could wear basketball shorts since they’re longer and if I get a bigger sized costume, the shirt will be baggy…” you thought about it for a moment, trying to picture it in your head. “Ah, I guess that would be weird, though… nevermind, we can keep looking.”

Bernie grabbed your wrist when you tried to walk away, tugging you closer. “You’re going to be the most beautiful Harley Quinn in the world. Everyone’s gonna be jealous of your originality.”

You knew he was full of shit but it brought a smile to your face anyway. “Thank you.”

“I’m getting excited,” he grinned. “This is going to be the best Halloween of our lives. I promise.”

“As long as you’re there,” you started, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Nothing else matters.”

He pouted, hands finding their place on your waist. “You always take the cool lines. You’re supposed to share in a relationship, ya know.”

You laughed, patting his cheek. “You can have the next one.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

You were filled with nervousness as you stood outside the large mansion where the party was taking place. Loud music filled the night air, accented by the laughter and cheers of the crowd. There were people everywhere, filling the house and surrounding the underground pool that sat on the right side of the property.

It wasn’t the people that had you on edge, though, it was Bernie’s friends – the Mighty Warriors.

They hated you and rightfully so. To them, you were the enemy because you were part of Sannoh and best friends with Murayama. They didn’t trust you at all and fully believed that you were using Bernie. It didn’t matter that you hadn’t know who we has when you first met. It didn’t matter that you fell in love with him before discovering who he hung out with.

When he was around, the members either completely ignored you or attempted to kill you with kindness that was so fake, it made you feel ill. On the rare occasion when you were left alone with them, they didn’t hold back, cutting into you with insults and threats and dirty looks.

Maybe you should have told your boyfriend this, but you didn’t want to cause problems. They were his family, his best friends, the people that were there for him when no one else was. If you ended up being the reason that he lost them… you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself.

So, you accepted their abuse. You didn’t see them that often so you knew you could handle it. You would be nice to them even when they weren’t nice to you because you were doing it for Bernie. 

Taking a deep breath, you headed up the stone path and into the house, squeezing through the throngs of people in search of your boyfriend. You found him in the kitchen, speaking with Pearl as he poured himself a drink. He looked absolutely gorgeous as the Joker and you found yourself staring at his exposed chest for longer than intended.

“Like what you see, baby?” Bernie wiggled his brows at you, a smirk on his lips.

“You look amazing,” you complimented with a smile, well aware of Pearl staring at you.

“You do too~” He pecked your lips. “Want a drink?”

“Maybe later.”

Pearl folded his arms over his chest, looking you up and down. “When did Harley Quinn wear that?”

You shifted uncomfortably, forcing a smile. “I wanted to customize the look. Make it unique, you know?”

“Ah.” His lips pursed, clearly biting back whatever mean comment that lingered on his tongue. “We should get ready, Bernie. We’re performing soon.”

“Right, right.” Bernie pecked your cheek, giving you a loving smile. “Enjoy the party, baby. You better watch us when we take the stage.”

“You know I will. Good luck.”

Pearl rolled his eyes. “We don’t need luck. We have talent.”

Your smile faltered as you nodded. “Yeah… you’re right.”

He scoffed, turning his back to you as he left the kitchen, Bernie close behind.

You made your way outside where the stage had been set up. You hung out near the back, close to the house as you watched your boyfriend get on stage, taking up his place at the DJ booth. Ice, Pearl and Nine walked around the stage, hyping up the crowd before beginning their set.

Bernie searched the crowd for you, a bright smile coming to his lips when his gaze met yours. You smiled back, forming a heart with your hands. He pretended to catch it, pressing it against his chest with a wink that had you giggling. 

‘What a dork,’ you thought lovingly. ‘My beautiful little dork.’

Halfway through the set, you felt a looming presence beside you and your body tensed up. Pho was beside you, easily towering over you due to his large size. Although you felt weary around all of the Mighty Warriors crew, Pho and Jesse were especially terrifying to you. They were much crueler than the other members and you knew they had spent time in prison.

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on your boyfriend who always provided you comfort even in the most stressful of situations. He wasn’t looking at you, though, focused on the music he was creating.

“Bernie prepared something for you,” stated Pho, right next to your ear so he could be heard over the music.

You shifted nervously, forcing a smile. “Yeah, he told me. I’m excited to hear the song.”

Pho resisted the urge to roll his eyes, giving you a deadpan look. “He prepared something else for you.”

“Oh? He… didn’t mention that.”

“Supposed to be a surprise. He wanted me to bring you to it.”

“I… shouldn’t we wait for him to finish?” You looked at Bernie nervously, wishing he would look up but he didn’t. 

“He wanted you to see it while he’s on stage. Said he would be too embarrassed if he was there.”

That didn’t sound like your boyfriend at all. Bernie was a dork but he was a confident dork. You didn’t even think embarrassed was in his dictionary. Alarm bells were ringing in your head, fear gripping your heart as you scrambled for an excuse to not go with this man.

“I… I don’t…”

His large hand came down on your shoulder, squeezing hard. “We should go before he gets to your song.”

It wasn’t a request, you knew, as he started to steer you back inside. You should have screamed, pushed him away and ran, but you didn’t want to cause a scene. He hadn’t done anything wrong, either, and you knew they would spin it as if you were overreacting.

The Mighty Warriors were nothing if not cunning.

He led you toward the back right of the mansion, stopping in front of a white wooden door at the end of the hall. “Go on. Your surprise is waiting.”

You swallowed hard, lifting a shaking hand to the knob. Goosebumps rose across your skin when your fingers wrapped around  the cold metal, but you doubted it was the cause. A feeling of dread had settled in the pit of your stomach, growing with each minute that passed. The door clicked when the knob was fully turned, the hinges creaking as you pushed it open.

It was a clean looking bedroom.

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “What -“

Pho shoved you hard and you stumbled forward, only staying on your feet because you managed to reach the desk opposite the door. You whipped around, heart sinking to your stomach.

Jesse was standing behind the door, a smirk on his lips as he pushed the door closed, flicking the lock. “Hey, there. I was hoping Bernie would bring you.”

You pressed yourself back against the desk as far as you could, fingers gripping the wood. “W-What’s going on? What are you doing?”

“I don’t trust you,” he replied simply, taking slow, small steps toward you. “And I don’t like you.”

“I’m not a spy!” You snapped, hating how your voice shook.

He quirked a brow, head tilred to the side. “I didn’t say you were. Sounds like you have a guilty conscious, hm?”

You sputtered, trying to find the right words to explain yourself. He may not have said it, but the others have multiple times.

“You may have fooled Bernie, but you can’t fool me. I can see right through you.” He pointed a finger at me, dark eyes glinting dangerously despite the playful smirk on his lips. “It’s time I teach you a lesson. Scare you so fucking bad that you won’t ever go back to Sannoh.”

“Don’t do this,” you begged, even though you weren’t sure what he had planned for you.

He hummed, tapping his chin in false thought. “Nah, I think you need this. You’re dumb, but you’re not that dumb. You know that you’re either part of Mighty Warriors or you’re against us. It’s not complicated to understand.”

Your eyes followed him as he slowly made his way to the left side of the room. There was something square sitting atop a large table, covered by a black sheet.

“So tell me. If you truly love Bernie, wouldn’t you leave Sannoh and join the Mighty Warriors?” He quirked a brow at you, fingers curling around the end of the sheet. “If you ask me, it sounds like you have commitment issues.”

“I didn’t ask you,” you spat, the anger swirling with the fear as the two fought for dominance within you. “Our relationship is between him and I. What you think doesn’t mean anything.”

“Wow, you really are dumb. Can’t you see how he’s suffering?”

That caught you off guard. “I – huh?”

He clicked his tongue, giving you a pitying look. “Do you know how many times he’s come to us, scared that you don’t love him simply because you stay with Sannoh? He’s asked you before, hasn’t he? To join us.”

Your lips parted but no sound escaped. Bernie had, in fact, asked you on multiple occasions to join the Mighty Warriors. That had been at the beginning of your relationship, though, and he hadn’t mentioned it since Sword had its big battle against Kuryu.

Had you been causing your boyfriend to question your feelings this whole time? The thought made your heart ache.

“So, for making one of our members suffer, you have to pay. It’s only fair, right?” He paused in thought for a moment. “Of course, if you leave Sannoh now and pledge your loyalty to us, I might reconsider.”

You knew you could never do that. Sannoh was your family just as the Mighty Warriors were Bernie’s. Though not related by blood, Cobra was your brother, the person who had always been there for you no matter what. 

Even when he found out about your relationship, he eventually came around and supported you because he knew how much you loved Bernie. As long as you were happy and safe, he could accept it.

You could never turn your back on them. Did that really mean you were betraying your boyfriend?

Jesse clicked his tongue. “How disappointing.”

With a sharp tug, the sheet slid off, falling to the ground in a pool. Your eyes widened as fear gripped your heart. You scrambled back to the other side of the room, trying to get as far away from the table as possible.

Sitting atop the table was a large glass tank, inside which was dozens and dozens of black spiders in varying sizes. You were terrified of spiders, to the point where you could barely look at them without wanting to cry.

“P-Please,” you begged, tears welling up in your eyes as you stared at the chair beside you, unable to even look in that direction.

Jesse snickered at your fear, pulling the lid off the top of the tank. “Last chance~ Are you gonna leave Sannoh?”

“I-I can’t!”

“What a shame.” He gripped both ends of the tank, lifting it up off the table. With a wicked grin, he flung the tank forward without letting it go, sending the spiders flying through the air toward you.

An ear piercing scream ripped from your throat as you dropped to the floor assuming the fetal position with your arms covering your head. Your body trembled, tears flowing down your cheeks. “Please please please,” you sobbed. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry just please take them away! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Jesse laughed, amused by what he believed to be an overreaction. “Let’s make a deal, then. Break up with Bernie and I’ll let you go.”

You shook your head, fingers curling around the ring hanging from your neck. It had been Bernie’s ring, given to him by his grandmother when he was a small child. He had entrusted it to you, promising to always be with you and love you forever. 

His eyes narrowed at you, growing annoyed that you were refusing to break despite the intense fear and stress that you were currently experiencing. He grabbed a large spider off the ground, stepping closer to you. You didn’t realize what he was doing until you felt something crawling across your arm.

You screamed again, flailing your arm wildly to get the creature off of you. Jesse didn’t move in time, your hand hitting him hard across the face. You were so consumed by fear that you didn’t even notice it had happened. You kicked your feet against the ground, trying to press yourself farther into the dresser as the hoard of spiders slowly made their way across the tan carpet toward you.

Jesse’s eyes flashed with anger, nostrils flaring as he grabbed you by the back of your hair, squeezing hard until you cried out in pain. He grabbed the largest spider, bringing it toward your face.

“P-Please, stop!” You sobbed, vision blurred by tears. “P-Please, J-Jesse!”

“Break up with Bernie or you’re gonna be making out with this spider. I hear his venom is quite potent.”

You trembled beneath his grip, squeezing your eyes shut so you couldn’t see the spider getting closer. When you felt the tips of its hairy legs touch your nose, you cried out, “Fine, fine! I’ll break up with Bernie just please, please let me go!”

The door had been flung open as you said this, Bernie standing there in shock. Anger flared through him when he saw the state of you and the words registered in his brain. “What the fuck are you doing?!” He rushed over to you, shoving Jesse away before kneeling in front of you. “Baby, it’s okay. I’m here, I -“

When he tried to wrap his arms around you, you shoved him away, shaking your head.

Hurt flashed through his eyes but he pushed it away, more concerned about calming you down. “It’s okay, you’re safe.”

“No,” you sobbed, hugging yourself tightly as you continued to tremble. “I’ll never… never be s-safe with you.”

“What? That’s not true-“

“I’m s-sorry, I… I can’t d-do this anymore!” You tugged hard on the ring, breaking the chain before shoving it against his chest. Before he could reply, you stood up and ran, jumping over the bed to avoid the disgusting creatures on the floor.

He cried out your name, heart clenching painfully within his chest as he chased after you. “Please, wait!”

You urged your legs to run faster, shoving through the crowd until you broke out into the cool night, nearly knocking over the couple in front of you. The commotion grabbed Ice’s attention and he glanced over, brow furrowed at the state of you.

You looked around frantically, breathing heavily at the attention that was now on you. Bernie screamed your name again, shoving through the crowd that had gathered in front of the door. You cursed, making a split second decision before you took off into the corn maze, your boyfriend hot on your heels. Ice downed the rest of his drink, shoving the cup into Sarah’s hand before taking off after the two of you.

You ran as fast as you could, resisting the urge to look over your shoulder because you were afraid he was right behind you. With your emotions threatening to drown you, you simply couldn’t face him right now. Your heart was aching and the adrenaline from your fear was still pumping through your veins, activating your fight or flight. 

Everything felt overwhelming to you and you just wanted to get away, to be alone.

Your foot caught on a root sticking up out of the dirt and you hit the ground hard. This was it, you thought. Bernie was going to catch up to you, to confront you about the breakup and about what Jesse had done. He’d tell you that Jesse had been right all along.

But Bernie didn’t seem to notice you among the thick stalks of corn, rushing past you without stopping as he cried out your name, begging for you to stop. A second pair of boots thudded against the earth but they, too, passed without noticing you.

As soon as you were sure they were gone, you started to sob again, fingers clutching at the dirt beneath you. You didn’t want comfort or pity. You didn’t need to be told that everything would be alright. All you wanted was to cry, to wallow in self-pity until there was nothing left for you to feel.

You stayed there for hours, long after the sounds of the party faded and the sun started to rise. Your phone had been vibrating non stop with calls and texts from Bernie so you had turned it off some time ago.

Your tears had finally stopped, dirt stuck to your face in the tracks they had left behind. You rolled over onto your back, staring up at the morning sky and the group of birds that were flying overhead. You wanted to call Cobra but you didn’t want to turn your phone back on, not wanting to see the flood of notifications that were sure to come.

With a sigh, you slowly pulled yourself up and started to trudge in the direction you had come from. Several people were asleep outside, snoring in lawn chairs or inflatable pool chairs. A large dog lifted its head when you got close, looking at you curiously and you sent it a pleading look not to start barking. You were still embarrassed and emotional and the last thing you needed was everyone to wake up and look at you.

You knew you must be a sore sight.

Thankfully, the dog just lowered its head and returned to its nap, allowing you to escape the property without issue. The problem you now faced was that the mansion was far from Sword district and you didn’t want to turn your phone on to call for a ride. 

It was a long walk in an uncomfortable costume, but it seemed like the better alternative at the time so you started walking, head down so you didn’t have to see the judging look of the people you passed by.

It took about twenty minutes before the city came into view, the tall buildings offering you comfort and familiarity. The roar of an engine bounced off of them, sounding angry in the early morning hours. You thought of Cobra and frowned, running a hand through your hair, the wig having been left in the maze.

If he found out what had happened, he would be pissed. You didn’t want to be the reason that Sannoh fought the Warriors again. You didn’t want anyone’s blood on your hands, but there’s no way he wouldn’t know that something had happened.

The apartment you lived in was Bernie’s. His name was on it, he paid for it every month. It was his, you just lived there because he insisted on it despite you telling him that you didn’t want to be a freeloader. You still couldn’t face him which meant you couldn’t go home.

You squatted down with a groan, clutching at your head in frustration. What were you going to do? It was the first time in a long time that you felt as if you had nowhere to go. You felt lost like the first time Cobra had met you.

“Oi.”

“Go away,” you muttered, not interested in fighting with thugs at the moment. The footsteps got closer and a surge of annoyance shot through you. With clenched teeth, you shot up, glaring at the person. “Are you stupid or what? I told you to… piss… off…” your words died when you realized who was standing in front of you.

Ice quirked a brow at you but it was the only emotion he showed as he stared at you.

You swallowed hard, losing all will to fight as you slowly backed away from him. “Please… just leave me alone. I didn’t mean to hit Jesse, it was an accident…”

“He deserved it,” replied Ice, shrugging a shoulder.

You were surprised by the words, having expected him to be angry for attacking one of his men, even if it had been just a single slap.

“Get in,” he ordered, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder. His car sat against the curb, looking seriously out of place among run down buildings and graffiti painted walls.

You wanted desperately to tell him no, but you were tired, both physically and mentally. You didn’t have the energy to fight or run so you accepted your fate, following him to the car. When you opened the passenger door, though, you paused and looked down at yourself. You were still covered in dirt and leaves. The seats were made of expensive looking leather.

He climbed into his seat, sending you a look as he repeated the order, unbothered by this fact. Carefully, you slid into the seat, pulling the door closed. You honestly felt scared to breathe in case you broke or ruined something inside the vehicle. You sure as hell couldn’t pay for it.

You expected him to take you back home or to the club but he didn’t. He pulled up to a penthouse on the opposite side of town, not far from the club they owned.

“Where are we?” you wondered, glancing at him as he got out of the car. You followed hesitantly, glancing around.

“My place,” he replied simply. 

“Why, um… why are we here?” 

He quirked a brow at you, pressing the call button for the elevator. “You got somewhere else to go?”

A frown tugged at your lips as you shook your head no, gaze falling to the ground. “I can’t face Bernie. I can’t go to Cobra because he’ll get upset. Murayama is still M.I.A… no, I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Ice hummed. “There’s your answer then.”

You followed him onto the elevator, glancing at him curiously. You still felt cautious because he was the leader of the Mighty Warriors, but he had never been abusive to you like the others had. “Why… are you being nice to me?”

“God, you ask a lot of questions.”

“Sorry…”

“You’re important to Bernie,” he answered honestly, hands in his pockets. “He’s our family and if you’re important to him, then you’re important to us.”

You scoffed at that. “I don’t think the others got that memo…”

“You and me are gonna have a long talk about that.” 

“Eh?” You blinked at him in confusion, his dark eyes intense when he looked at you again.

“You’re gonna tell me everything.”

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

Nearly a week had passed since the party and you weren’t feeling much better about the situation. You kept having nightmares about the spiders crawling all over you and you’d wake up screaming. You apologized profusely to Ice for this when he came to check on you but he didn’t seem mad.

He wasn’t the type to comfort someone when they were upset, especially since you were dating someone close to him. He basically just left you to yourself, though he did make the occasional comment about how you couldn’t avoid Bernie forever.

You knew he was right, of course, but you were scared. Of what, you weren’t entirely sure. You just knew that anxiety flooded you every time you reached for your phone, which you still had yet to turn on.

You sighed, resting your head on the kitchen table as you stared at your phone. It sat in front of you, the screen black. How many times had Bernie called you? How many texts were sitting there unread? Was he angry at you for ignoring him? 

What if he stopped trying? What if he had decided breaking up was the right choice, after all? Maybe you should have listened when Cobra first told you that the Warriors were trouble.

The front door opened and closed from behind you and you hummed, not lifting up from the table. “You’re back early. You’re out of milk, by the way, and not because I ate all the cocoa puffs. In my defense, I warned you when I saw them.”

You expected a sigh or a smart remark but all you got was silence.

Curious, you slowly sat up, turning in your seat to look at Ice. Only, Ice wasn’t who was standing in front of the door. It was Bernie and he looked terrible. His clothes were wrinkled, his hair a mess and dark bags prominent under his eyes that lacked their usual luster. There was a bruise on his left cheek and his bottom lip was split, but they didn’t look fresh.

You stood up, whispering his name. That seemed to wake him up because he darted across the living room, his body slamming into your own with such force that the table scraped across the floor. His arms were tight around you, face buried in your neck.

“God, I missed you so much,” he whispered against your skin. His voice was so soft, almost as if he were afraid this was a dream and he would wake up if he spoke too loudly.

“Bernie…” you whispered back, clutching onto him as if your life depended on it. Tears filled your eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He quickly shook his head, pulling back so he could cup your cheeks. “You did nothing wrong, baby. I… I’m sorry for not realizing. I didn’t know… I didn’t think they…” He shook his head again, bringing his forehead to your own. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to cause problems,” you admitted. “I didn’t want you to fight with your family.”

“I would fight the world to protect you.”

“I know. That’s why I couldn’t tell you.” You focused on the hem of his shirt, tugging softly at the fabric. “It wasn’t anything serious, just the occasional rude comment or dirty look. I could handle it, but then Jesse…” you couldn’t suppress a shiver as you thought of the spiders again, crawling toward you, touching your skin.

“Hey,” he called softly, thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “You’re okay. There’s no spiders here. They won’t hurt you.”

You slowly nodded, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. “I didn’t mean to hit him…”

Bernie scoffed. “You should have hit him harder.”

You gently traced your thumb around the edge of the bruise, a frown tugging at your lips. “I’m guessing you did that for me.”

“I beat his ass,” he scowled, anger flashing through his eyes. “I wanted to kill him for what he did to you.”

“I’m glad you didn’t. I hear maintaining relationships in prison is hard.”

He hummed, leaning toward your lips but not quite touching them. “If I recall correctly, you broke up with me.”

Guilt and pain filled you. “I’m sorry…”

“Be honest with me. Did you only break up with me because Jesse made you? Or do you really not want to be with me?”

The heartbroken look on his face snapped something within you and you closed the distance, claiming his lips. He didn’t hesitate to kiss you back, acting as if he were starving and your lips were the only thing that could feed the hunger. Neither of you pulled away until your lungs were screaming at you.

“I love you so much, Bernie,” you whispered honestly. “I’ve never felt this strongly about anyone before.”

His lips ghosted over yours. “You are the sun in my sky.”

“And you are the moon in mine.”

Bernie smiled, reaching into his pocket to pull out his grandmother’s ring. “Here, this belongs to you.”

Your fingers ghosted over the metal, warm from having been in his pocket. “I promised to never take it off, but I broke that promise.”

“There were extenuating circumstances.” He unclasped the chain, bringing it around your neck before securing it.

You had felt lost without it, honestly, like a piece of you had been missing. With the ring back around your neck, you felt as if that piece had been returned to you. A smile came to your lips as you rested your hand over it.

“Even if the world is against us, I’ll always choose you,” he told you seriously, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re my family, too.”

You threw your arms around him, burying your face in his shoulder to hide the wide grin that overtook your face.

“It’s about damn time.”

Both of you jumped in surprise, whipping around to see Ice standing in front of the door, a smirk on his lips. 

You bowed to him, offering a grateful smile. “Thank you for everything.”

“Sure,” he nodded. “Now go back home before you end up seeing me naked again.”

Bernie’s eyes widened, shifting between the two of you. “Naked? Again?!”

Ice just shrugged, falling onto the white sofa. “I’m not used to having house guests.”

You rubbed the back of your head, looking away and feeling embarrassed. 

Bernie pouted at you, nudging your shoulder with his. “I’m the only one who you’re supposed to see naked.”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” you laughed, nudging him back before holding out your hand. “Let’s go home?”

His hand slid into your own, fingers intertwining as if they were made for each other. “Yeah, let’s go home, baby.”

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

-> High&Low/Rampage Taglist: @kiraaaeon, @simpforchuchu, @star2fishmeg, @thatpoindexterpixy @manhwabtch

-> General Taglist: @asterhaze, @mrskenpachizaraki

@meridele473 Bernie! c:

#flufftober2023 #day 6 #high&low #bernie #high&low bernie #mighty warriors #mighty warriors bernie #rains ficography #RFO - PSF #RFO - PSF23 #fanfiction #fanfic #arachnophobia #writeblr

[m0ther-of-p3arl]

not nearly enough

(robert aeor high au p10)

masterpost

ITS BEEN TOO LONG- ok ok ok yEEEEeeEeEe im excited to post this one :000 ITS PART 10 GUYS OMG WE HIT THE DOUBLE DIGITS also 40,000 words in total in the entirety of the fic so YEYY

Before Jim came to town, Scott was… well, not fine, exactly- but he was laying low, he was safe, in a sense. He was biding his time until he could leave, until he could get out of the hellhole of a town he still lives in. He had a plan, and Jimmy interrupted that in the worst- oh, who is he kidding- best way possible.

or, its been SIX MONTHS time skip jumpscare HAHHAHAHAHA

TW: anxiety, depression, self-hatred, MAGICAL FLASHBACKS, references to past abuse, etc etc the usual

(5141 words)

And so the months pass, months of sleeping uncomfortably in Jimmy’s bed, months of trying to stay calm when he has flashbacks in the middle of the night, months of staying inside as much as he can for fear that he’ll see Father at the park or the grocery store or anywhere, really. John and Laura bought him a new phone, so at least he can still communicate with the people he relies on.

The others, Joel and Shelby and Owen, were irate when they heard that Scott was now living with Jimmy and Beks, or more so, the reason why: Scott can still remember Shubble shrieking “WHAT?!” when he told her the news, so loud he’d actually heard ringing in his ears- after the initial shock, she kept ranting for about twenty minutes straight about abusive parents and neglectfulness and yada yada yada, stuff Scott’s heard a million times before.

Owen, to contrast, stayed very quiet, the anger simmering right below his voice, just enough so that Scott could hear the hints of it, the bits of raw emotion his best friend couldn’t quite keep hidden. Joel had literally stormed over to Jimmy’s house and started yelling at everyone and everything, including Scott, Beky and her parents, and Jimmy- three different reactions from three different people, all displaying their personalities really well.

But for the most part, it’s been good living with John and Laura; they let him skip school when he needs to, John is an excellent cook (it’s so nice not having to eat peanut butter jelly sandwiches anymore) and Laura makes the second-best tea Scott’s ever drunk (first is Jimmy’s, of course.) His favorite part of his current arrangement, however, is his evening “Jimmy time,” as he’s come to think of it- every evening, he and Jimmy go down to the TV room and watch a movie, play a video game they’re both trash at, or video call Shelby and Joel.

Looking back from where he is now, it’s kind of unclear to Scott where and when Jimmy time started, but he knows it’s been going on since at least a week after he moved in. At first, he’d worried that Jimmy didn’t enjoy spending that much time with him, but the avian’s never complained and so Scott has grown accustomed to this little routine, he’s grown to enjoy the three or four hours they’ll spend together every night.

But on the more negative side of the cucumber, things are not going well with Owen. He’s drifted further and further away from the center of their group, and especially since he lives so close to Scott’s old house, they haven’t had any time to hang out just the two of them. He’s tried to text Owen a bit, but things have grown strained between him, not the easy-going friendship Scott’s so accustomed to, the friendship he relies on. Something’s shifted, and though he can’t put a finger on exactly what, he’s pretty sure it has to do with Jimmy.

Why does absolutely everything in Scott’s life always boil back down to Jimmy?

He’s still running his morning jog on the weekends, though he’s changed his route significantly so it doesn’t go anywhere near his old neighborhood, as just the possibility of seeing his father, or even the mansion, make Scott feel like he’s going to throw up. But other than this little weekly routine, Scott doesn’t spend much time outside at all.

His days are now spent in solitude, watching YouTube on his phone in Jimmy’s room or simply laying on the bed, getting lost in his anxiety and self-hatred. Often, Jimmy, Shelby, or Joel will try to invite him on an outing, but he declines every time, brushing away their worried glances and hushed comments. Most of the time, Scott is alone. And he has to admit, he kind of likes it that way.

If he’s alone, he doesn’t have to focus on the stresses of small-talk and human interaction, he doesn’t have to pretend to smile behind a curtain of self-doubt, he doesn’t have to act like he’s getting better, the way everyone expects him to. Because he’s not getting better. It’s been six months, six months, since he moved in with Jimmy- he’s almost eighteen, and Jimmy’s finally seventeen, another half of a year has gone by but nothing’s changed; he just can’t shake the beast that roils within him, the dark, biting cloud that gnaws at him from the inside out.

Jimmy’s great and all, Scott really appreciates all he’s done for him, but the simple fact of the matter is that Scott’s basically in love with the avian, and Jimmy decidedly does not reciprocate his feelings, meaning that there’s always some sort of catch when they’re hanging out. Scott can’t let himself go all the way, can’t make the same sort of raucous jokes he can with Owen, there’s always this slight weird formality between them. Not anything noticeable from an outside standpoint, but Scott sees it, and he knows Jimmy does too. It tends to make things… more difficult than necessary

He misses his best friend. Scott misses Owen, more than he’s ever missed anyone in his life. He misses the way they used to laugh at the park, he misses when they would climb trees to get away from Owen’s multitude of little sisters, he misses every fleeting moment he and his best friend have ever shared. And as much as he loves Jimmy, the avian can’t give him back the simple, platonic moments that have made up some of the best parts of his life.

Memories are a strange thing, Scott supposes as he sits alone on the bed, because though you always wish you could go back and change things, you can’t. There is no possibility, there is no feasible way that Scott could ever change the way things have worked out. But sometimes, when he’s sat alone with nothing to do, feeling the safety in boredom, he finds himself wondering what he would change if he could.

Usually, he tells himself he would’ve chosen to choose his words more carefully that fateful night when everything changed forever, he would’ve skirted around the issues and just been a good little boy. Sometimes he thinks that he wouldn’t have kissed Jimmy, sometimes, when he’s feeling really terrible, he tells himself he would’ve just made it so he doesn’t exist.

But at times like this, when he’s alone and sane and completely transparent with himself, he knows that what he would’ve changed is the fact that he even met Jimmy in the first place. And yeah, he knows it sounds weird and ungrateful but it’s true- as much as he loves and cares about the avian, Jimmy’s basically the godfather of all Scott’s struggles.

Before Jim came to town, Scott was… well, not fine, exactly- but he was laying low, he was safe, in a sense. He was biding his time until he could leave, until he could get out of the hellhole of a town he still lives in. He had a plan, and Jimmy interrupted that in the worst- oh, who is he kidding- best way possible.

Everything’s kind of gone downhill since  he met Jimmy, but he’s enjoyed almost every second of the fall, and that, right there, is a problem. Scott’s addicted to the change, he’s addicted to the presence and light the avian brings to his life, but he’s also completely drawn in by the hurt that seems to follow Jimmy like a dark haze, bringing nothing but grief to those he comes to know. 

He wryly recalls, all those months ago, mentioning to Joel how canaries are harbingers of death- but that was never the whole proverb, was it? No. If Scott remembers his mother’s stories well enough, it was “canary call, first to fall.” Mother would always speak of how Scott should never trust a canary; how they were nothing but trouble no matter what, even if it wasn’t intentional. And he supposes she’s been proven right, but also…

He doesn’t know. He just- something about him just can’t let Jimmy go. Something about the avian is just so… easy. Or it was. Before the concussion, before…

He can’t think about that. Every time it crosses his mind, their supposed kiss, Scott’s mouth goes dry and his cheeks flush, he’ll just find himself blushing at random points in the day whenever something reminds him. He wishes… he kind of wishes he could remember it. He wishes he hadn’t forgotten, he wishes Jimmy would like him, he just can't stop wishing- 

Scott just can’t stop thinking about how things could have been, the way they could have gone if only the slightest things had happened differently, but it hasn’t, it hasn’t it hasn’t it hasn’t and Scott’s starting to panic-

The door to the room creaks open, snapping Scott out of his thoughts. Speak of the devil. It’s Jimmy, and as much as Scott hates it, his whole face lights up at the avian’s presence. “Hey,” Jimmy greets, dumping his backpack on the bed. “How’s it going? I brought your homework, by the way.”

Scott tries to smile, tries to pretend he hasn’t just been thinking about all the things he wished were different, tries to pretend his brain hasn’t just been riddled with thoughts of the boy now stood in front of him. “Hey,” Scott replies, mimicking Jimmy’s nonchalant tone, just the sight of the canary stood in front of him as panic-inducing as ever, his heart beating faster than a rabbit’s. “How’d school go?”

“It was alright,” Jimmy mutters, flopping down onto the bed and spreading his limbs every which way, leaving Scott to look down at him, pulling his knees to his chest to make sure he’s not sitting on Jim’s feathers. “ELA was a beast, though- I don’t envy you having to do that homework with no context.”

Scott groans, tilting back his head to look up at the ceiling, bracing himself up with his hands behind him. “Would you help me?”

“Obviously,” Jimmy scoffs, maneuvering into a sitting position, his hand brushing momentarily against Scott’s before he wraps his arms around his knees. The warmth lingers on his frigid skin, as it always does whenever he and Jimmy touch. “But do you wanna go get food first? I’m famished, and knowing you, you’ve probably kept yourself locked up in this little room all day.” It’s true; Scott doesn’t think he’s left the bedroom at all today, except for maybe once or twice to use the bathroom or take a shower.

“Ha, fair enough,” Scott concedes, pushing himself up off the bed and following Jimmy through the door. As they trundle down the stairs, Scott can’t help but recall the first time he came to this house- how Jimmy had stood upon these very stairs, resplendent and practically glowing in his light green dress. Scott remembers how his biggest worry that day had simply been things ending up awkward between him and Jim. Little had he known that later that very same day, he would literally be evicted from his own home.

He tries not to think about the part where he literally kissed the boy he was hoping not to be embarrassing around.

They enter the kitchen, John’s favorite place in the whole house; purple and green and yellow and so many other colors adorn the walls in alternating stripes, the cabinets painted with the complement of the walls around them. Jimmy’s citrusy scent mixes into the cinnamon and cilantro of the kitchen as he pulls open the door to the fridge, pausing as he surveys the contents.

“What do you wanna eat?” Jimmy asks, turning back towards Scott.

“Um, I don’t really know.” Scott can’t remember the last time he’s felt genuinely hungry, but he does know that if he doesn’t eat he will starve regardless of what it feels like. So every night he gulps down a quick meal, and that’s all he’ll eat for a day unless he and Jimmy are having popcorn with a movie. “I’ll have whatever you’re having, I guess.”

The canary nods, used to this response by now, and pulls out a can of chicken tikka masala left over from the last time they’d ordered Indian food. “Shall I pop this in the microwave?”

“That’d actually be great, thank you,” Scott agrees. “I think some CTM might actually hit the spod right now. By the way, where’s Bek?” He hasn’t seen her yet, which is strange- Beks is usually right up in everyone’s face, yelling for attention.

“Oh, didn’t she tell you? She’s gone over to Krow’s for a sleepover.” Jimmy doesn’t look back at him as he mixes the masala with rice, separates it into two bowls, and pops them both into the microwave. 

Scott laughs, propping himself up on the island with his hands. “But doesn’t Bek always come home angry at Krow from those sleepovers because it’ll use its siren song to get her to tell it all her secrets?”

Jimmy lets out a tinkling snicker. “Well, yeah, but El’s going to be there as well, so I’m hoping that she’ll act as some sort of peace-maker. She’s, like, the only one Krow’ll ever listen to. Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please.”

They stand there in silence for a couple minutes, the air tinged with more awkwardness than Scott cares to admit, especially for someone he’s lived six months with. He can tell almost instinctively that they’re both thinking about the kiss, Jimmy probably replaying the actual memory over in his mind while Scott sees the approximation he’s managed to piece together. He can practically see Jim’s disgusted face, shocked eyebrows and an angry furrow to his forehead- a thick feeling of shame wells in the pits of Scott’s stomach, and it’s not the first time.

Scott’s been thinking about it for months, and yet he still can’t believe that, delirious as he was, he actually kissed Jimmy. The typical version of him could never work up the courage to do that- not in a million, billion, trillion years. Scott could count all the stars in the sky before he would try to kiss Jim.

“So! What do you wanna do tonight?” Jimmy asks, reaching up on his tiptoes to pull the food out of the microwave. 

“Um, I was thinking we could watch a Disney movie? One of the newer ones, maybe Big Hero 6, Soul, or Luca?” Scott suggests, running a hand backwards through his snakes.

“Soul and Luca are Pixar, silly.” Jimmy laughs, and just like every time his high, chirping bird-like snicker escapes his mouth, Scott feels like he’s soaring above the clouds, and he can’t help but remember how much easier it was when he was still in denial about his love for the canary. But then the laughter is cut off abruptly and a look of panic crosses over Jimmy’s face. With shaking hands, he sets the bowls down on the counter, and Scott can tell that if he’d been holding them for a moment longer, they would have been dropped.

Scott’s there in an instant, working his way around the island to Jimmy’s side. He cautiously places a hand on the avian’s shoulder. “You good?” Scott asks, surveying Jimmy’s face with concern.

“Y-yeah, I think I’m-” 

Suddenly Scott’s somewhere else, a playroom full of toys much too young for someone his age, the windows and doors barred from the outside, simple, almost blindingly white walls pressing in imposingly on all sides. There are two people peering through the iron bars at a canary avian sat in the middle of the room, one a salmon Seafolk and the other an axolotl, like Lizzie, Joel’s crush.

“Which one is it?” A biting voice comes from the axolotl, not something Scott would expect from such a typically peaceful species- but his voice is directed unmistakably towards the canary in the middle of the room.

“Oh! Hi, Patty, do you have guests?” The avian speaks before the salmon, presumably Patty, can respond, and as they step eagerly towards the door, Scott catches a glimpse of their face. 

His face is about five years younger, fuller and hair less scruffy, a voice somehow even higher than the one he currently possesses, but Scott knows him.

It’s Jimmy. 

“What can you tell me about Chicago? I’ve heard about Chicago,” the younger version of the boy Scott’s come to love asks, wrapping his hands around the bars of the door and staring with excitement up at the disgusted axolotl, who recoils from the canary, a sneer wrapping around his features.

“Shut up, kid,” Patty hisses, before regaining her composure and turning to the salmon. “Ahem, Mr Barnaby, that is… Jimmy, he’s a canary avian whom I found on my many travels throughout the globe.”

“Why’s it asking so many questions? Aren’t they all supposed to be tame?”

“Oh, haha.” Patty laughs; a small, fake giggle that grinds into Scott’s teeth and sets his skin on edge. “Jimmy’s always been a curious little bird.”

And then Scott’s back, back to the kitchen, reeling from the whiplash he’s just experienced. It takes him a moment to realize that he’s staring right into the same exact avian’s eyes, but 5 years older. For a moment, neither of them speak, thousands of words communicated in simple eye contact. Scott never used to be able to look anyone in the eyes, and for most people, he still can’t- but Jimmy’s a rare exception.

“D-did you-” Jim breaks the silence, looking shaken beyond words, his skin ashen as he tries clearly to hold back his tears.

“I saw it, yeah,” Scott says, taking Jim’s hand in both of his own before he can think about it too much. Selfish, selfish, selfish. “What was that? How did we both see- okay, the how isn’t important right now, we can talk about that later. I just need to know if you’re okay- I remember you told me about a Patty once, but I didn’t think- I never expected-” Scott’s at a loss for words, because whatever he’s just witnessed is so- so despicable- 

She hurt Jimmy. She hurt him and no one’s allowed to hurt Jim, he’s too sweet and kind and he always puts others before himself, he laughs at the stupidest jokes and is undeniably the most genuinely kind person Scott thinks he’s ever met. He begins to feel a rage building in the back of his throat, because who would- what kind of monster- who could ever find it in themselves to hate Jim?

Jimmy’s struggles and the way he’s dealt with them put what Scott’s been through to shame, and he can feel the guilt beginning to gnaw up at him from the insides biting and churning. Here he is, sitting alone and feeling sorry for himself, when Jimmy was held fucking prisoner, a hostage in a cell, by a person he professed to trust, maybe even saw as a mother figure?

“No, it-it’s fine, I left, I got out of there, she doesn’t matter anymore,” Jimmy mutters, wrapping his free arm around himself but not removing his hand from Scott’s grasp. “I’m fine. I just don’t- I just don’t think about it, very much. That bit you saw, when she said-” he takes a deep breath, as if the next thing he’s saying takes a lot of power to conjure up- “when she said, ‘Jimmy’s always been a curious little b-bird,’ she used to say that a lot, and it’s-” his words all come out in a  rush now, and Scott knows the feeling- Jimmy’s just trying to rush all his emotions out before they consume him too much.

“It’s kind of ingrained in my memory,” he continues, looking down at the floor and gripping Scott’s hand so tight he thinks it might fall off. “I don’t know why, but she- her voice- it’s in my head, it won’t g-go away, it’s been a year and a half and now just at the most random intervals I’ll just hear- her- saying that thing and it’s so stupid because I didn’t even have it that bad, it’s not even the worst thing she would say, not by a long shot, b-but it felt- it feels-” Jimmy swallows, angrily swiping the tears from his eyes. 

“I ran away. I left. I shouldn't even be thinking of her, of that place, anymore but I can’t shake the feeling- and sometimes when I’m sleeping, I have d-dreams, it feels like I’m there, again, and she’s showing me to people through the window as if I’m some sort of exotic specimen, and I’m not, I’m just- just me- simple, stupid, trusting Jimmy- and there’s nothing special about me it’s just pure luck that it’s me she found. It’s m-my fault.”

Scott feels his mouth tighten and he wraps his free arm around Jim, the avian letting out a small, startled gasp before sinking into the hug, shaking from the memory while Scott shakes from rage. They stand like that for a long time, Scott not quite trusting himself to speak.

“I. Will. Murder. Her.” The words growl out of his mouth before he can stop them, glaring protectively over Jimmy’s shoulder, trying hard not to clench up and hurt the canary.

Jimmy looks up at him, surprised, moving his head from where it had been pressed to Scott’s chest. “W-what- but it was-”

“It was not your fault,” Scott says, anticipating Jim’s question and intercepting it before Jimmy can blink twice. “Where and when did she find you? Were you fucking kidnapped?” Scott can tell that he probably looks very scary right now, and he can feel his skin freezing up, see the frost beginning to creep over his shades.

“I- I was- well, from what she said, it was back when I was still an egg, back from wherever I came from. The way she told it, she found me, or, my egg, I guess, in a nest in a tree when she was on a hike in Borneo. She always s-said it was the smallest egg in the nest. Do you know what that implies? I have siblings, Scott. I have brothers and sisters and-” he has to stop talking for a minute, and Scott holds him closer, as if just by wrapping the avian in his arms, he could solve all Jimmy’s problems. “She said my parents were away, so she nabbed me out and took me for her own. She said she saved me.”

Scott is infuriated. He is beyond anger, he is beyond hatred, he is the pure embodiment of rage. He wants to murder this woman, he wants to mince her up into a pie and serve her to the sharks. “She did nothing of the sort. Any even half-decent person would know not to take an egg from an avian’s nest- your parents were probably foraging, do you even know your true name?!”

Jimmy looks up at him, surprised. “How do you know about true names? But yeah, I know. It’s kind of- well. I mean I’m not going to tell you what it is, at least not right now, sorry. But an avian’s true name- we just kind of know that instinctively, ever since we’re little.”

“Okay, good,” Scott says, though it’s just a small modicum of relief when compared to the magma that’s begun to flow through his veins instead of blood. “I know about the name thing because we did a unit on avians in Species Studies early last year, you know, before you came.” Jimmy mouths  silent “oh,” and then Scott realizes how tight he’s been holding the avian and how he’s probably very uncomfortable with this and-

He quickly releases Jimmy, pushing away from the canary quickly and slightly forcefully, hoping Jim doesn’t take offense. With a muttered “sorry,” from both of them, the awkwardness is back, and Scott almost curses. Every part of his body where Jimmy’s been now feels cold, even colder than usual, as if even his body is protesting the lack of the one he loves.

“So, movie,” Jimmy says, breaking the silence and turning back to the tea, hiding his face from Scott and obviously trying very hard to act like the whole memory thing hasn’t happened. Without looking, Jimmy slides Scott his bowl of chicken tikka masala down the counter, and Scott very nearly misses it. Luckily, he catches the bowl at the last second, and saves them both from the disaster of being lectured about the importance that things stay clean in John’s kitchen. “Out of the things you said, I think I’d be down for Soul the most, though I kind of want to watch HSMTMTS? If that’s okay with you?”

Scott barks a dry laugh, not quite ready to return to normal himself. HSMTMTS, or High School Musical: The Musical: The Series, is Jimmy’s favorite show, a high school soap opera kind of scene full of stupidity. But Scott follows Beks’ parents’ logic: if Jimmy loves it, by extension, Scott does as well. Or, he pretends to for Jimmy’s sake. “Sure, why not? Where were we at?”

“Um, I think it was- gimme a second to think.” Scott nods, passively observing how to anyone else, Jimmy would seem absolutely fine right now, you could never guess in a million years that he’d just had a breakdown- but Scott knows Jimmy well enough that he can see the little details, a slight shaking of his hands, the way his eyes dart fearfully back and forth, the subtle extent to which he’s drawn in his wings to his back.

How does he do it? How does Jimmy pretend everything’s fine when it’s not, when it’s actually fucking terrible and has been for a long time, how on Earth does he do it? Jimmy seems to possess a certain strength of character Scott’s always been lacking in, a willingness to keep going that’s so strong it’s almost a fault. It’s one of the things Scott loves and admires the most about the canary.

But also- Scott’s been so caught up in what he’s seen that he hasn’t thought about how- he remembers it had happened once at the movie theater, all those months ago- he’d forgotten. They’d shared a memory. As far as he’s aware, it’s only happened the two times- and both with Jimmy’s memory, and he’s pretty sure no one else had seen them either time, so it’s almost certainly a thing that’s just between him and Jim.

He supposes it has to be his siren heritage, because if he’s being honest, there’s no way it’s Jimmy’s doing. Scott loves the avian and all, but there’s no way he would have magic powerful enough to do that. 

He’s never thought he’s really gotten anything particularly siren-like from his mother, other than the cyan and ice (though ice isn’t really a siren trait, now that he thinks about it) so he’s never really felt like it’s very important for him to read up on sirens. He hasn’t learnt about them from school, either; they’ve never done a unit in Species Studies, and if he’s being honest he hasn’t really spent enough time with Mother to learn about siren things from her. 

So all Scott knows are the obvious things: sirens can sing, they have gorgeous voices that hypnotize the listeners, blah blah blah. He’s never heard anything about seeing other people’s memories, but he supposes it really doesn’t seem too far fetched at this point.

“Oh! I remember,” Jimmy calls from his perch on the counter, shaking Scott out of his theorizing with a start. “We were at the part where Seb is singing at Carlos’ quinceanera.”

“Were we?” Scott honestly can’t remember, it’s Jimmy’s favorite show, but it sure as hell isn’t Scott’s- he can barely follow the plot, and because they only watch HSMTMTS about once a month (Scott doesn’t know if he could stand watching it more often), it’s even more difficult to remember.

“Yep,” Jimmy says, gesturing for Scott to grab his tea as he heads to the basement. Scott does so, holding his bowl of masala in one hand and balancing the warm mug in the other, carefully plodding down the steps into the TV room.

Jimmy’s already sat down on the cushy marshmallow couch, and Scott joins him, placing his dishes on the coffee table and making sure he’s at least a foot away from the canary. He doesn’t want to make Jimmy uncomfortable.

The show starts off about as normal, pretty meh, just as Scott remembers it. Doldrum lovesick lives of typical teenagers, and because it’s a Disney show, of course they sing out their sorrows. But Jimmy loves it so he always puts up with it, because he has to pay back the avian in some way from letting him stay in his literal house, right?

And then something unexpected happens: Scott finds himself being sucked into the show, actually interested in something that until now, he’s been completely bored about. He starts genuinely watching as Seb sings a song for his boyfriend, Carlos, and of course Scott had known they were dating before, it’s one of the main plot points, but this is different-

It feels real.

It feels like him. He imagines himself up there, in the back of that tractor with that piano, singing to Jimmy. And then the song’s over and Carlos walks up and-

They’re kissing.

Two characters, in a live-action Disney show, are kissing. Scott finds his eyes drifting not-so-subtly to Jimmy, and then their hands are touching and it’s so close, so feasible, so possible that Scott can feel it and something’s about to happen and their heads are moving closer closer closer to each other, so close that Jimmy reaches out and his hand brushes momentarily against Scott’s cheek and yes yes yes Scott wants this-

A door slams from upstairs and Bek’s voice rings through the house. “Jimmy! Where are you?”

And the spell is broken, Scott shakes off the lavender haze and the rose-colored glasses, muttering a shallow apology under his breath but Jimmy doesn’t seem to hear it, he simply stands and walks upstairs, wings drawn tightly to his back, without so much as a backward glance. Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck. Scott tries to call out for him, tries to make him understand, but his voice isn’t working and it’s too late, all he can do is watch with horrified eyes as Jimmy walks away, and now it’s all over and Scott’s broken everything for a second time. And so the tears boiling behind his eyes leak out, sharp and biting against his cold skin.

Ice-cold.

#ROB AEOR JUMPSCARE #lmao sorry it's been so long- #but uh #i really think this chapter is one of the best yet #pls enjoy ^^ #love you all!! #flower husbands #trafficshipping #empires smp #empires fic #scott smajor #smajor #smajor95 #smajor1995 #dangthatsalongname #scott major #scott #solidaritygaming #jimmy solidarity #jimmy solidaritygaming #solidarity #jimmy #owengejuicetv (mentions of) #bekyamon #smallishbeans (mentions of) #shubble (mentions of) #fic #fanfic #AUTHOR FELIX STRIKES AGAIN #robert aeor high au

[ilyasorokinn]

(day two) winner, winner, pumpkin dinner , dougie hamilton

note, this is part of my mini halloween series, so for the rest of the series, check out this masterlist. none of the fics in this series are connected, so they can be read as standalone. another note, don't know their partner's names and i don't care, so i'm making it up :) pair, dougie hamilton x reader summary, at the devil's annual halloween party, the host’s decide to have a couple's costume party, and the prize, for the winning couple, is loads of candy, a couple's massage, oh, and of course, pumpkins. warnings, nothing really word count, 789 words

(gif not mine)

"This is the worst costume ever," Dougie complained as you stood above him, fixing the ears on his head.

"No, it's not. I don't know what you're talking about." You shook your head, "This is genius, Douglas."

"But why can't you...?"

"We've already been over this. It's funnier this way. Plus, it would be too predictable if I dressed up like that." You explained.

"I don't like this."

"I know. You've explained why you don't like it already." You nodded.

"Next year, I get to pick the costumes." He stated.

"Deal. As long as I don't end up in some cheesy costume."

"Darn, there goes the peanut butter and jelly costume." He joked.

"Don't even joke about that." You shook your head.

He laughed, "Hurry, go change. We're gonna be late."

-

"Are my ears straight?" Dougie asked from the passenger seat. He was looking at himself through the mirror, making sure the ears on top of his head were straight.

"They're straight." You nodded as you turned the corner towards the host's house.

He looked over at you as you pulled into a parking spot, "You're missing something." He stated, then reached into the backseat and pulled out one of his hockey helmets.

He placed it on your head, laughing when it slid over your eyes because it was too big, "Perfect. Now you look like the perfect hockey player."

"And you look like the perfect little puck bunny." You laughed as you unbuckled yourself and headed for the house.

You knocked on the door, and waited, adjusting your 'Hamilton' jersey, "Stop fidgeting. You look fine." Dougie reassured.

"I know." You took a deep breath, "I just really want to win."

"Right, 'cause we need more pumpkins and candy." Dougie playfully rolled his eyes.

"We can never have too many pumpkins." You reminded him. The door opened and before you could even get a word in, an already very drunk Nate answered the door.

"Sorry, we're at full capacity." He slurred, then slammed the door shut. You and Dougie stood on the porch in shock, trying to understand what had just happened.

The door opened and instead of Nate, it was his girlfriend, Jordan. She smiled, "Sorry about him." She moved aside and let you both walk in and it was then that she finally got a good look at your costumes, and she burst out laughing, "Going for gold, I see." She commented.

"Go big or go home." You nodded, flashing a proud smile.

"Well, you guys've got my vote." She told you, "Nate and I were gonna do something, but it didn't work so we're not even matching." She laughed.

"See, she thinks it's good." You looked over at Dougie and he rolled his eyes as he followed you into the house's central area. When everyone else looked at your costume, they all whistled and catcalled Dougie playfully, who took it all in and spun around.

-

The whole night, you were just waiting for it to end because you knew at that end, that was when they were gonna announce the winners of the costume contest.

"Now, the moment we've all been waiting for..." Jordan announced, grabbing everyone's attention, "The costume contest!" Everyone cheered, even the singles.

"All right, since we aren't in the running, Lindsey and I counted the votes. In 3rd place, with 10 votes, Gravy and Caitlyn." Gravy and Cailyn were dressed up as the chefs from Ratitouui. They even had a little Remy inside Gravy's little chef hat.

They collected their prize of big candy baskets that Jordan most likely put together herself, "All right, in second place, with 15 votes, Jesper and Anna." They collected their prizes as you anxiously waited for first place to be announced.

"And in 1st place, with a whopping 23 votes, drum roll please..." Drumrolls could be heard from around the room, "With 23 votes, Dougie and Y/N!"

You looked over at Dougie, who was sitting across the room. You locked eyes and stood up, a little discombobulated by all the cheering as you made your way to collect your prizes.

"So, here's your candy baskets, and your gift card for the massage and your pumpkins were too big so they're in the garage."

"Too big?" Dougie blurted. She nodded and led you into their garage where 3 giant pumpkins sat. They were seriously so big, they probably weighed more than a small child.

"What are we gonna do with these pumpkins?"

"Well, for decorations." You explained.

"That's it? I hope that's not it."

"Well, I wasn't expecting pumpkins this big, but we can make soup or something."

"We'll have soup till 2030." He joked.

"I hope you like pumpkin soup." You patted him on the shoulder.

-

my taglist: @kolsmikaelson @ashleymarine @typical-simplelove @laurenairay @mattyybenierss @kidlnthedark @bowen-power @nhlrbs @lam-ila @catahshart @puckinrightschicagoo @stars-canucks @drei-mrssvechii @iwantahockeyhimbo @2manytabsopen @owenpowersglasses @calermakar08 @hamilton160 @pierrelucduboiis @thescooby-gang @huggybearmylove43 @sammysworldddd @corneliaskates @mista-svech @samanthasgone @hockeyboysarehot @maximoff-xmen @skel4t @nicoleloveshockey @thedukes-56-5 @nickblankenburgg @emma117717 @talksoprettyjjx @sidcrosbyspuck @tdd2323 @dumbxblond3 @kaydenissleepy @Yagetintoit @seventieswhore @MichelleKirby30 @jamieeboulos @Coffeeandteaandflowers @bibella8swan @cuttergauth @boqvistsbabe @sophia-bordeleau @madison-nhl

add yourself to my taglist!

(this taglist is my regular taglist, my non-special occasion masterlist. if you want to be tagged in all my writing, feel free to add yourself!)

#dougie hamilton imagine #dougie hamilton imagines #dougie hamilton x reader #dougie hamilton blurbs #dougie hamilton fic #dougie hamilton #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fic #nhl blurbs #nhl #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fic #hockey blurbs #hockey #new jersey devils imagine #new jersey devils imagines #new jersey devils blurbs #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils #taylor writes #taylor writes: hockey #taylor's blurbs #taylor's halloween series!

[spotsandsocks]

Seven Sentence Sunday

Tagged by @monsterrae1 💕💜💕

I’m moving into holiday themed fics and have this little snippet to share.

“Are you serious?” Buck’s standing in his kitchen with his mouth hanging open, eyes wide, it’s adorable and amusing and god he loves this man so much. He tries to keep that out of his voice though.

“Yes I’m serious, Buck, I’m from Texas, served in Afghanistan then moved to California of course I’ve never had a white Christmas. Never seen proper snow to be honest.”

If anything that statement just makes matters worse, Buck's mouth opens and shuts, apparent he’s just managed to render him speechless, that’s quite a feat.

Eddie takes another sip of beer to hide his smile as Buck flounders with the information he’s just dropped on him.

The other man is looking horrified, “but but that means Chris hasn’t either”. Eddie nods to confirm this fact, “but, but Eddie” the words come slowly as Buck processes the concept “snow and Christmas they just go together. It’s like Mac and cheese, peanut butter and jelly.

We have to fix that! ”

Tags for anyone who wants to share and in particular

@lilbuddie @shortsighted-owl @bekkachaos @ajunerose @hetrez @rogerzsteven @buddierights @megslovesbooks @dickley-buddie @fiona-fififi @loveyourownsmiilee @fleurdebeton @sibylsleaves @jacksadventuresinwriting @elvensorceress

#buddie #911 fox #eddie diaz #evan buckley #seven sentence sunday #snow fun fic #Buddie wip

[cantdanceflynn]

Hi!!!! Please explain the phineas and ferb diety au i want to know everything about it!!!

OKOKOKOKOKOKOK!!!!!!! SO ITS AN AU ME AND @pyxehastoomanyinterests HAVE MADE, WITH KINDA THE BASIC IDEA OF "WHAT IF ALL THE MAIN AND MOST OF THE SIDE CHARACTERS, ALONG W A BUNCH OF INCIDENTAL CHARACTERS SUCH AS COLTRANE AND DJANGO WERE GODS WHO'D BASICALLY GOTTEN STUCK INSIDE A HUMAN BODY" AND NOW THE HUMAN PART OF THAT ARRANGEMENT IS NOT HAVING FUN DEALING WITH IT.

THE THING IS LIKE. I ACCIDENTALLY GOT SUPER ATTACHED TO A BACKGROUND CHARACTER DESIGN SO SHES THE MAIN ANTAGONIST AND SHE IS. THE BITCH EVER LIKE. THERES A GOOD BIT OF IMPLIED AND LIKE CANDACE DIES ON SCREEN ONCE LIKE PNF HAS A BUNCHA DEATH EVEN IF THE AU DIDN'T INCLUDE MML AND H&G BUT SHE RAISES THAT NUMBER BY LIKE. A FEW HUNDRED IF NOT A THOUSAND THE ONLY PERSON WHO MIGHT BE WORSE(WHO ISN'T RELYING ON THE MARVEL OR STAR WARS CROSSOVERS TO EXIST) IS 2ND DIMENSION DOOF SKJSSJSKSSKKSKSHFFHHSJSKFKDDKSKJS

ALSO ITS LIKE. WAY DARKER. AND NOT IN THAT 2EDGY4ME WAY IN A "I FINALLY GOT INTO HORROR RIGHT WHEN I WAS COMING UP W HOW THE GOD BODIES WORK AND NOW THERE IS SO MUCH BODY HORROR STUFF" LIKE I PROMISE ITS ALL FOR THE THEMES AND MAKES SENSE AND ISNT JUST TO BE EDGY BUT ALSO. PNF AND HORROR AND SUICIDE AND STUFF LIKE THAT LITERALLY GO TOGETHER LIKE PEANUT BUTTER AND JELLY I CAN'T EXPLAIN IT

ALSO THE REASON I HAVEN'T. ACTUALLY EXPLAINED THE PLOT IS BC THE WHOLE THING. IS BATSHIT CRAZY AND THERE ARE ASPECTS OF IT THAT I DON'T THINK. I COULD EXPLAIN/ THERES LIKE THREE THINGS WE DONT WANT TO SPOIL. MOSTLY BC LIKE. THE MOST MINOR THINGS BECOME PLOT POINTS. CANDACE GETS TURNED INTO A VAMPIRE IN ONE EPISODE? THE ROBOT VERSIONS OF SOME OF THE CHARACTERS GET EXPLODED AND LEFT FOR DEAD? THE ESCAPE TOWER THAT GOT PUT INTO SPACE? THE IMPLICATIONS THAT STACY AND VIVIAN ARE DEAD AF IN THE 2ND DIMENSION? CANDACES WEDDING PLANNER, THE SORBET MACHINE THAT CAN TURN PEOPLE INTO FLIES, THE UPAFHDS? ALL HUGE PLOT IMPORTANT THINGS. NOT TO MENTION THE NUMBER OF OBSCURE CHARACTERS THAT GET FULL ON ARCS/ARE ESSENTIAL TO THE PLOT. DO YOU KNOW PROFESSOR MYSTERY? NO. NO ONE KNOWS PROFESSOR MYSTERY UNLESS THEY'RE VERY OWCA FOCUSED OR THEY'RE AS INSANE AS ME. HES AN ESSENTIAL CHARACTER WHO I AM SO INSANE OVER <3

WE'RE VERY EARLY IN BUT https://archiveofourown.org/works/37760605/chapters/94277068 HERES THE FIC U SHOULD TOTALLY READ IT :]

IF YOU WANT TO KNOW MORE SPECIFIC THINGS, IE ABOUT CERTAIN CHARACTERS OR PLOT ELEMENTS OR THE RELIGION OR THE GODS BIOLOGY PLS ASK AWAY BC OH BOY YOU HAVE NEVER SEEN THE EXTENT A MYTHOLOGY SPECIAL INTEREST CAN DO

#CANDY-ASKS #CANDY-FRIENDS #PNF DEITY AU

[mediocre-daydreams]

Hi can I please request the prompt “They are good for each other,” for Tom Peter Parker. Thank you so much, your writing is good! 🥰

thank you for the sweet message!! i loved writing the fic, though i'm not sure how well it fits with the theme of the dialogue prompt. hopefully you enjoy it anyway!!

good 4 each other

peter parker x avenger! reader

loosely inspired by "good 4 u" by olivia rodrigo

summary: peter's the only person who really knows you, and vice versa. the one thing the two of you don't know about is each others' mutual feelings.

w/c: 3.1k

notes: looooots of fluff, smidge of angst (hurt/comfort), canon level violence, descriptions of wounds, allusions to sex (barely), swearing, peter and you care about each other too much bruh, mj tells it as it is

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you were sitting on peter’s bed, your back pressed against the headboard, as peter listened to you rant intently with his chin on one hand.

“-and it’s like he never even met me, ‘cause now he’s off trapiezing around with this other girl and it’s been like, two weeks since we broke up—we were together for eight months! it’s like, holy shit, you could at least pretend that you cared about me at all.”

peter rolled over on his back and looked up at you with big, puppy dog eyes.

“don’t look at me like that. you know that i can never- ugh, what do you want, peter? you only look at me like that when you want something.”

it wasn’t true. peter looked at you with those sweet, adoring eyes all the time. you just never noticed. he looked at you like that when the two of you went web slinging and you’d laugh giddily after the landing. he looked at you like that when you did homework with him and brushed the hair out of your face, and peter could see your perfect face. he was looking at you like that right now, and he didn’t want anything. well…

“i don’t want anything, not really. i just want you to be happy,” he pouted.

you snorted. “that was so cheesy. i mean, obviously i’d love to be happy, but it’s like i can’t be happy if he’s happy, y’know?” you sighed. “you’re right, though. i’ve wasted too many tears on this asshole. i gotta move on at some point, right?”

peter took your hand in his, pulling you down until you were lying on your back next to him. “it’s okay to be sad. that’s what makes you so… well, i know being vulnerable is hard for you, and i’m proud that you’re letting yourself show your emotions. and i’m honored that you trust me enough to be vulnerable with me.”

peter turned so he was propped on his elbow and could get a proper view of your face. you were staring up at the ceiling, mouth pulled into a subtle frown.

“hey, look at me, would’ya?” peter cupped your cheek and turned your head gently. “you’re gonna be okay, i promise. everything heals with time. and however long it takes, i’mma be here for all of it, right?”

“right.” you exhaled deeply. peter could feel your cool breath on his skin. his heart warmed when he saw the sliver of a smile creep onto your face.

--

the two of you were eating lunch outside, on hammocks. well, you were on the hammock. peter had made his own with webs. the fresh air was nice until you realized neither of you had brought water or napkins, so when the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches you had made started making your fingers all sticky and your mouth all dry, lunch was no longer fun.

“i really don’t want to get up right now,” you complained, right after complaing about how thirsty you were.

“hydrate or diedrate,” peter agreed seriously. “i guess we’re going with diedrate.”

you groaned, worming yourself deeper into the hammock. “wait!” you sat up. “hose!”

sam was watering wanda’s daffodil patch (he’d lost a bet and was now in charge of watering duty for the next week) not too far from where you and peter were resting.

peter knew what you were thinking immediately. “is that really a good idea?”

“it beats getting up.”

“so true.” peter cupped his hands around his mouth. “HEY SAM!”

sam made no indication that he heard him, so you tried. “SAM WILSON! OVER HERE!”

nothing. you and peter bellowed together. “SAM! SAM, TURN AROUND!”

finally, sam turned, hose in hand with water still lazily flowing, annoyed. “WHAT? CAN’T YOU SEE I’M BUSY?”

“WE NEED WATER. GIVE US YOUR HOSE, PLEASE. WE’LL, UH, FINISH WATERING FOR YOU.”

sam took a second to consider before sprinting down the hill, hose in hand, and tossing it to peter as soon as he was in a reasonable distance. evidently, he hadn’t stopped to consider that the water was still flowing, and it hit peter’s chest with a dull thud before tangling itself in peter’s web hammock.

the boy stared at the hose for a few long seconds, before picking it up and angling it at sam in vengeance. sam dodged, but it didn’t really matter. peter had been defeated. and by defeated, you meant that his loose white shirt had soaked through and was now translucent and clinging to his chest like a second skin.

it shouldn’t have been a big deal; you’d seen guys shirtless before. hell, you see bucky shirtless every time he trains. the man would take any excuse to strip.

so why was it different with peter? he jumped out of his hammock, shaking the water from his hair and grimacing at his damp shorts. “great. my boxers are wet too,” he grumbled.

you didn’t appreciate the thought of peter’s boxers. you also didn’t appreciate that peter decided to take his shirt off, pulling it from his back and bending forward as he slipped it off in that attractive odd way guys do. 

“wow, at least take me on a date before you start taking off your clothes,” you joked to cover how flustered you actually were. good. now the both of you were flustered.

���okaaaay, the horny twenty-somethings are talking about fucking each other. i’m out.” sam saluted awkwardly and jogged away, leaving the two of you with the running hose and sexual tension.

“ha, that’s so- you know sam. always cracking jokes,” you forced out. “so… wanna try out that new brita filter?”

--

“what happened, kid?” steve’s worried Dad™ face was in full display as he watched peter limp off the elevator, clutching his abdomen. his spiderman suit, which had just been redesigned to withhold greater impact, still hadn’t managed to protect him, it seemed.

peter heard footsteps that he identified as yours rushing over. he’d hoped to keep this from you and prevent unnecessary worry. blearily, peter collapsed onto the nearest surface, which just so happened to be tony’s brand new, foreign-imported white leather couch.

you slid to your knees by peter’s side, brushing sweaty, matted curls off his forehead as steve panicked in the background, calling bruce to alert cho. as steve was beginning to call for tony, you jumped up and tackled his phone from him.

“don’t. don’t call tony. peter doesn’t need that right now, he doesn’t need a scolding. tony can be pissed another time, i just- i’ve got it under control, okay?”

steve nodded wordlessly. you didn’t spare him another second before turning towards peter, cooing as you brushed your thumb over peter’s cheek. he winced as you touched a small cut.

“shit, okay,” you murmured, giving peter’s body a once over. “steve, go get me an emergency kit,” you yelled over your shoulder. when you heard no movement, you followed up with a “now!”

peter’s eyelids flickered between consciousness, and he could hear your soft voice speaking indistinguishably to him. whatever you were saying, it must’ve been something sad, because even in his delirious state, he could see tears welling in your eyes. he immediately knew he hated whoever or whatever had made you cry. he never wanted to see you cry.

you rubbed your eyes with your sleeve, sniffling loudly a few times before you let out a big exhale to ground yourself. you were talking under your breath so that peter couldn’t hear, but he imagined it couldn’t be anything good. you often put up a front of calmness and collectedness, but peter could see through it easily. your jaw was too tight, your eyes were darting around the room, and your breathing was too erratic.

when steve came back, practically sprinting, he tossed the kit at you. in one smooth motion, you caught it, set it down on the ground, and clicked it open. you’d patched up peter more times than he could count.

“stay awake for me, pete. please, keep your eyes open?” you pleaded, trying to smile for him. “c’mon baby, just look at me,.” you murmured as you ripped open a pack of wet wipes and began the arduous process of rubbing off the dried blood and dirt from his face. you’d always been gentle with him, like nobody else had. you never scrubbed impatiently or disinfected without a warning; even in pain, you’d do anything to lessen it.

“i- i have to take off your suit. is that okay? i know we’re not in your room right now, but unless you wanna walk, ‘cause i don’t think i can carry you, we’re gonna be stuck here.”

peter hummed in affirmation. his voice was hoarse and his throat tightened until it felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“water, please,” he croaked, licking his cracked lips to no avail. 

your eyes widened. “water! i completely forgot, give me one second pete-” you’d returned to his side less than a minute later with a glass of water and a straw. you were always so thoughtful; you gave him a straw so he could drink with greater ease.

“okay, i’m going to take off your suit now,” you said, voice wavering. peter didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything at all. peter winced as you pressed down on the spider emblem on his chest to loosen his suit, and he shivered when your cold fingers and the cool air hit his bare skin.

you gasped in terror as you recognized the familiar tear of a serrated knife. “you were stabbed?” you squeezed your eyes together and peter licked his lips again, trying to rid the dryness in his mouth so he could speak.

“you should see… the other guy,” he chuckled weakly. you glared at him. your eyes flickered to his lips. were you going to kiss him? he hoped yes. a kiss to make him feel better.

“your lips are chapped,” you commented. pulling your own chapstick out, you rubbed it on your fingertip until a good amount had collected and dabbed it on his lips. you’d done that before, claiming that the stick would tug at his skin but that the warmth from your hands would make the application smoother. it was all the little things.

“where the fuck is cho?” you tsked as you dug through the kit. you wiped the grime off his torso, taking care not to wander too far down, and you flinched each time peter hissed in pain. neither of you spoke; silence laid heavy over the thick air with the exception of the occasional sniffle or moan. though peter, for the most part, was silent, the both of you were fully aware that he was only doing so for your benefit, knowing you’d be more upset if you could hear the pain he was in.

when cho and banner finally showed up, panting and jittery, you chastised them before letting them see peter. as they raised peter onto a stretcher and began with their medical jargon, you brushed your hand over peter’s forehead once more, tucking stray hairs behind his ears. peter’s eyes fluttered, and when you pressed a warm kiss to his forehead, he let himself drift into dreamless sleep.

--

you and wanda were sitting inside a pillow fort she’d enchanted for stability, late at night. with the exception of peter, the two of you were the youngest avengers, and you found yourself having sleepovers with wanda whenever there was something personal to be discussed. secrets spread fast in the compound, but the two of you trusted each other.

“well, it’s pretty obvious he likes you,” wanda huffed, tired of repeating the same words to you.

“if he liked me, why would he keep brushing me off to hang out with mj and ned? don’t even get me started on mj—he spends more time with her than he does everyone in this tower combined. including me! i know they’re friends and i shouldn’t be jealous, blah blah blah, but i am.”

wanda rolled her eyes dramatically. “i’m going to lose my mind. how many nights have we spent talking about this? peter. is. so. in love. with you. i don’t believe in soulmates, but the two of you can literally read each others’ minds. and take it from me, because i can actually read minds.”

you sucked your teeth anxiously. “d’you really think so?”

“duh, why would i be telling you this if i didn’t?”

“good point.”

--

peter and mj were sitting at the kitchen table, homework long abandoned. aunt may had gone out and ned was helping his lola clean, which meant it was just peter and mj again. the two of them had been hanging out alone often recently. he felt bad; he hadn’t seen you nearly as often as he’d liked.

“you’re actually such an idiot,” mj bashed her head on the table, much to peter’s horror. 

“i have no idea what you’re talking about,” he huffed.

“oh my god. you could literally ask her to go dumpster diving with you and she’d say yes. just ask her out, dude. she’s a catch, and you know that. if you don’t make a move, someone else will.”

peter chewed his lower lip. “see, that’s exactly why i’m nervous! i know she’s a catch; she’s way out of my league. she could have anyone, so why would she go with me?”

“i’m so close to slapping your stupid, white boy face, but i’m not going to, because i don’t need you concussed when you’re trying to ask out the girl who is already in love with you, dingus.”

“dingus?” peter scoffed.

mj raised an eyebrow. “you are in no position to judge me, fool. this mutual pining thing has gone on for so long that i’m surprised neither of you have grown gray hairs yet.”

“okay, first of all, it’s one sided pining. second of all, she thinks my hair looks nice, thank you very much.”

mj slapped her forehead.

--

“you said this was a ‘simple heist!’” you shouted into your comm as you fended off buff cronies from some mob boss you weren’t expecting.

you could hear tony’s sigh from your earpiece. “yeah, well now i know it’s not. so stop fussing and start punching!”

“where is everyone?” peter’s voice was staticky, which was an immediate red flag. these comms were high tech and were taken care of before and after each mission. if peter’s comm had stopped working, something was wrong. seriously wrong.

“by the back exit! peter, where are you?” you grunted as you took a kick to the side. you hated to admit it, but you were severely outnumbered and outmatched. pulling a second knife from your thigh, you slowly backed up with two blades in each hand as you contemplated your next move.

the next backwards step you took brought you into the arms of a sturdy chest, and you screamed, flailing desperately. you raised one of your knives, planning on blindly stabbing your captor somewhere in the face, before you heard peter’s distressed voice.

“don’t stab me! it’s peter, woah-” peter held you tightly as he webbed the two of you off the ground to avoid a charging attacker. “are you okay?” he looked down at you, where your head was tucked into his neck.

“uh huh,” you mumbled, shocked. “actually, no, i’m not. what the fuck was that? why are you here?” you hissed, fingernails digging into his back as he swung out of range of the action. 

“you needed help!” peter retorted, his arm tightening around your waist. “what, should i have just left you to die?” 

“you were supposed to be getting the fucking- whatever it was with steve!” you hmphed.

“shipment logs, but whatever. i don’t give a damn about papers, i give a damn about you!” peter landed on the concrete roof of a building free from the fighting, and you could see the chaos that peter had pulled you away from.

“why are we here? we need to go back and help-”

peter grabbed you by the shoulders with a crazed look in his eyes that you’d never seen before. you gulped in anticipation.

“no, you have to listen to me. i thought- i thought i was gonna die, and all i could think about was you, and then i thought you were gonna die, and all i could think about was you, because i can only ever think about you. does that make sense? god, i don’t know- i’m in love with you, alright?” he shook your body. “i love you, and i’m so scared that i’ll lose you before i ever say it to you. so there, i said it. that’s it. we can go back now.” he moved into position to shoot a web.

“i- you little shit, get back here.” you tugged his bicep towards you until he stumbled backwards into your waiting arms. with more confidence than you’d ever exercised in your life, you grabbed both sides of his face with your hands and slammed your lips against his.

peter gasped into your mouth, lips slotting between yours in a clash of teeth and blood and tongue and gunpowder. it tasted like conflict and it tasted like peter.

“i hate you. god, i hate you—you’re so stupid! i love you too, you asshole!” you did a little happy dance which looked more like a very aggressive, furious dance with the way you were stomping your feet on the ground. “god, i love you! i love you to pieces, peter parker.”

--

natasha sat across from you and peter, who’d slumped into each others’ bodies the minute the quinjet took off. your head was tucked between peter’s shoulder with his head resting on yours, and one of your legs was tucked between peter’s open ones, so that the two of you were pulled flush to each others’ bodies. though natasha’s lips were dry and bleeding, she cracked a smile.

“they’re good for each other, aren’t they?” steve sat beside natasha, ankles crossed very politely.

natasha hummed. “he’s way better than that shithead boyfriend she used to have.”

tony, who had left to do his six step skincare routine in the quinjet bathroom, threw himself into a seat. “i was gonna go with ‘fucking finally,’ but both of your answers work too, i guess.”

steve smiled warmly and you and peter’s sleeping figures, breathing in sync. “you’d never think- they’re so different, but they make it work. they complete each other.”

marvel masterlist | main masterlist

taglist: (coment to be added!)

@yourallihave @bambamwolf87 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @cowboibeepbeep

#peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker x reader fluff #peter parker x reader angst #peter parker mutual pining #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker hurt comfort #peter parker comfort

[brainrot28]

Electric Feel [Chapter 4]

chapter 4 of my pipabeth fic on ao3 :)

July 9th 

Piper

After a heated debate and 3 stabbed campers, Camp Halfblood agreed to screen the Pixar movie, Cars. Andy hassled everyone in the camp, trying to get them to vote for Zootopia. Alas, her efforts did not bear fruit. 

Piper strolled across the grass towards the erected movie screen, spotting Percy and Jason, who were wrestling on the ground, along with Annabeth. Piper broke into a grin and ran over there. 

"Jason, what do you mean you've never seen Cars," Percy whined. "It's only one of the best movies ever made."

"Dude, need I remind you I was raised by wolves?"

"Excuses, excuses," Percy shot back with an eye roll. 

"Both of you shut up or I'm leaving," Piper said as she plopped down next to Annabeth. "I missed you so much!"

"Wow, why didn't we get this warm greeting?" Jason questioned. 

"Yeah. You two saw each other 2 hours ago. Chill out," Percy added. "YO CONNOR, you got our snacks?"

Connor's head snapped up. "You bet, man." If you could rely on one person to smuggle anything into camp, that person would be Connor Stoll. He began digging through his belt searching for their candy orders. "Alright, let's see here. I've got War Heads for Jason, blue jelly beans for Percy, Sour Patch Kids watermelon for Annabeth, and peanut butter M and Ms for Piper."

They all expressed their thanks and Connor sprinted away to finish distributing the candy. 

"Oh, Piper," Annabeth started, "I almost forgot, we already went to get popcorn, so I picked you up a bucket."

"Ooooh, thank you!" 

"Shut up or I will summon skeletons to get you in your sleep!" Nico yelled. "The movie's starting."

Annabeth and Piper moved closer together and turned their eyes towards the screen.

-----

About halfway through the movie, Andy rolled over to Piper and Annabeth. Piper was pretty impressed that the young demigod avoided rolling on top of the people scoured all over the ground. 

"Do you two like each other?" Andy whispered.

Annabeth scoffed, "Andy of course we like each other, we're best friends." 

"Noooo, I mean like like each other. Do you like like each other?" Andy asked. 

Suddenly, Piper became aware of how close she was to Annabeth, how she could feel Annabeth's shoulder and thigh against her own body. Surely she didn't 'like like' Annabeth, right? They were best friends, inseparable even. Piper thought of Annabeth all the time, because everything reminded Piper of the daughter of Athena. And, yes, Annabeth was incredibly smart, and beautiful, and caring, and brave and-

... and 

... and 

Oh fuck. Piper liked liked Annabeth. 

Piper was pulled from her thoughts at the sound of Annabeth's voice. "What? Andy, no way. Piper and I are just friends, okay? Why don't we go back to watching the movie now."

They were just friends; and Piper would not ruin their friendship with romantic feelings. Romance made things messy.

#annabeth chase #piper mclean #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #jason grace #will solace #nico di angelo #pjo #ao3 fanfic

[crankyphlebotomist]

Oh man…I have been writing this FOREVER!! Just a small modern day!Boba x gn reader fic

Warnings: talks about depression and the aftermath.

Thanks to @thefact0rygirl and @ashotofspotchka for getting me back into writing!!

:read more:

Depression sucks, but what might be worse is the clean up.

You’re out of the slump…freshly showered and no longer feeling like there’s a layer of grime on your skin. You’d be feeling like yourself if you werent so overwhelmed…

Despite being freshly showered, you felt gross. Guilt gnawed at your gut. How did you let it get this bad? What kind of disgusting person let’s their home get this way?

Just get dressed. That’s the first daunting task on your ever growing list. Taking the least smelly clothes from the hamper (making more of a mess in the process) and pulling them on, you glance around once more. Where do you even start?

The bubbling panic interrupted by a knock at the door. You jump, not expecting (and certainly not hoping) for company at the moment.

“Sweetheart? Are you there?” Boba. Your heart lurches at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice. Never have you been so happy and so terrified to hear his voice than in that moment.

The guilt came crawling back. Up from your stomach and settling its crushing weight deep in your chest. You’ve been avoiding him, declining every offer to go out, go to dinner, or just hang out. Depression not allowing you to muster up the energy to be social or to even prepare to be social. It’s not like you didn’t want to be around him you just…couldn’t.

You debated whether or not to stay silent, pretending you weren’t home, but he doesn’t deserve that. Besides, he has a key. He could’ve just walked in, but the way he knocked, allowing you your space, not intruding without your say so. You didn’t deserve him.

You open the door, just enough to hide the rest of the pigsty that is your apartment. The look of relief on his face made your knees weak.

“There we are…” his smile was kind and his dark eyes had that twinkle in them you grew to love so much, “when I didn’t hear from you, I got worried”

“I’m so sorry,” you said, almost too quickly, “I promise I’m not trying to ghost you. I’m just…not feeling well” It wasn’t a lie, you weren’t feeling well, but you couldn’t muster the courage to explain it was your mind and not your body what ails you. His smile fell.

“Not…that kind of not feeling well.” He stared blankly for a moment, then you could almost hear the click as he put the pieces of the puzzle fit together. Before you even knew what happened, you were in his arms.

“Oh, cyar’ika, why didn’t you tell me?” His hand rested on the back of your head, rubbing a thumb in a comforting, circular motion, “I would’ve understood.” The sincerity in his soft voice brought tears to your eyes. You tried to blink them away, but only succeeded in allowing them to fall over your cheeks. Pulling you back, Boba encased your face in his large hands and forced you to look at him. “Sometimes, ad’ika, the toughest battles are the ones within our own minds.” His encouraging smile allowed you to smile through your tears. Until you realized in his haste to embrace you, the door was pushed open and Boba had a clear view of the disaster behind it.

“No-” The panic was creeping back up to the surface “Boba, please. You don’t have to do that. This isn’t your mess…” you couldn’t meet his eyes, “I’m not your mess.” His brow furrowed at that.

“You’re not a ‘mess’, cyare,” he stated softly, yet firmly, “and you’re allowed to need help.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. It disarms any argument you could have mustered. “Now, where are your rubber gloves?”

True to his word, you enjoyed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (the only thing you had readily available as you couldn’t find the strength to go grocery shopping) as he tackled the mountain of dirty dishes in your sink. Donned with your elbow length, hot pink, rubber gloves he washed each item in hot, soapy water and hand dried every last plate, cup, and silverware left. Tears started to flow again as he even cleaned out the crusted food and grime from the bottom of the sink. After your sandwich, you started laundry. You didn’t even bother sorting the articles, you just shoved a mound of clothes into the small washer/dryer unit you had in your one bedroom apartment.

With the dishes done, garbage taken out, and laundry going you felt a wave of pure, unadulterated relief lift from your chest. You and Boba snuggled on the couch together in your newly cleaned up living room watching one of your guilty pleasure shows.

“You never have to be ashamed of what you’re feeling, mesh’la,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head, “I would never judge you.”

“I know…” you trailed off, “I shouldn’t have ignored you like that, you didn’t deserve it.” He squeezed the arm around your shoulders in reassurance.

“Now, what would you say about take out and watching a movie?” Gods, he always knew just what to say.

“That sounds really nice” you smiled. Damn it, you might just cry again. As your boyfriend moved off the couch to go get your stack of menus from your kitchen you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

Somehow, you knew things were going to be alright.

#boba fett x reader #modern!boba fett #gn reader #boba fett x gn reader

[henrys-wee-hen]

No-one Fucks With The Lobos - Chapter 25

I am so, SO sorry for the length of time it took me to write this chapter! A lot has happened recently that kept me from writing it! I was at home doing construction work, then when I came back to Belgium, I was working on a series pilot outline for a consultation. And redrafting a feature! So, busy busy. But... here it is! Chapter 25, in which you realise maybe things with the Lobos aren't always clean and what they seem...

We're definitely coming to the end of this fic, too, so stay tuned!

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48070186/chapters/124895539

Or read under the cut, as always!

It wasn’t that he changed. He didn’t change overnight. But something was a little bit different after that day.

I'd assumed that marrying him would solidify the amazing relationship we already had. I’d thought it would lead to something even more magical, a power couple to rival the most famous power couples. POTUS and FLOTUS. Beyoncé and Jay-Z. Harley Quinn and the Joker. Peanut butter and jelly. Monogrammed bullets and golden handguns. Nic Cage and the Declaration of Independence.

What it actually led to... I woke up the following day to an empty bed, Teddy already in the office, yelling at someone about how he was going to send Apache Joe in.

“...I fucking know the first one got killed – you fucking think I only had one Apache Joe?! There’s always an Apache Joe! ALWAYS!” I hovered in the doorway, listening. “You better fucking find it. If you don’t have it by the end of the fucking day, I’m taking your fucking head off. You’ll wish it was just your fucking tongue. Or your fucking ear.”

I’d never heard Teddy be so violent. But there was a hardness in his voice that I’d never heard either. I pressed my lips together. Maybe something had happened with Bellafrancesca that I didn’t know about. I stepped into the room, and Teddy turned a glare to me.

“What do you want?”

“Oh... bad time?”

“Not a fucking good time, is it?”

“I woke up and you weren’t there -”

“Don’t be so fucking needy.”

“If you’d let me finish... I was concerned that you’d started working so early.”

Teddy looked at me like I’d gained three heads.

“And?”

What the fuck...?

“And...” I didn’t really know what to say. I twisted the rings around on my finger. “I’m sorry, is it a bad time?”

“Get dressed. We need to go out.”

“Teddy –“ I didn’t finish the sentence. He dismissed me with a flick of his hand and turned his back to me while he scrolled something on his phone. What the fuck?! I looked around the room, my eyes landing on a vase that, sure, fit the décor of the room, but was fucking hideous alone. I picked it up and threw it hard across the room.

It shattered against the wall behind him.

Teddy stopped scrolling and turned slowly. Painfully slowly. His face? Unreadable.

“Do not… fucking dismiss me… with your fucking fingers…” I felt sick. “Tell me why you’re being an asshole…” Teddy stood up. He walked around the desk and sat in front of it, perching on it. He beckoned me closer. “What did I just fucking say?” He rolled his eyes.

“Alright. Fucking come here.” I complied. And as I reached him, he was on me. I’d expected him to hit me or something, with the mood he’d been in, but he didn’t. He pulled me flush against him, tracing my lips with his finger. “That vase… belonged to my fucking father…” he whispered. “And you belong to me… and my things don’t break my father’s things…”

“I think this possession thing has gone a bit far, Teddy –“

“Shh.” The finger tracing my lips pressed hard against them. “I didn’t say you could fucking speak…” He watched me for a moment. When I kept quiet, he continued. “Nothing has changed, sweetheart. Nothing at all. The only thing that has changed is that, to the outside world, the darling little police officer in the New Orleans Police Department has fallen victim to the dangerous criminal Teddy Lobo… and you have. And after the things I did to you, I was surprised you’d agreed to it at all… but here we are…” When I looked at him in confusion, he spluttered with laughter. “God, I fucking love it when you’re all confused, (Y/N)… poor thing. You just keep trying to figure out what the fuck’s happened to you… but I’ll give you a clue, since I’m feeling nice…” he put his mouth by my ear and kissed the hollow of my jaw. I shivered, despite myself.

“Teddy…”

“My behaviour never fucking changed, baby.”

Rebecca’s car screeched to a halt outside Lobo Mansion. She was pissed. Truly pissed. She checked her gun over, making sure she had enough bullets to defend herself. With a final adjustment to her bulletproof vest, she grit her teeth and left the car.

Lobo Mansion was the usual bustling place when she walked in. She looked around, and qas quickly accosted by one of the Lobos’ gargoyle-like brutes.

“What are you in here for, little piggy?”

“I need to see (Y/N) Lobo. Or Bellafrancesca.” Rebecca kept voice even.

“You got an appointment?”

“No.”

“Then the Boss is busy. And (Y/N) lives and works with Teddy. And Teddy lives and works away from here. In his apartment.” Vague, cryptic… Rebecca wanted to nail him in the forehead then and there.

“I need to speak to your boss, then!” she yelled. Cause a scene – that’s how one got to Bellafrancesca. And since (Y/N) was obviously off on some fucking business trip… Bellafrancesca would have to do.

“The Boss… is busy…”

It was Brice who sauntered over, hands resting over the two guns on his hips. Rebecca looked up at him defiantly.

“What’s going on?”

“I need to speak to your Boss. Or (Y/N) Lobo. Or Teddy. Anyone, really.”

“Why? What’s it about?”

“Personal matters.” Rebecca ground her teeth. But she caught the little flicker of amusement in Brice’s eyes. “I… heard (Y/N) and Teddy got married. And…” she looked down. Act. It was all an act. “Well… don’t make me say it out loud, dude. Come on.”

“I understand. And since you’re about to fuck your life up spectacularly, I’ll give you this one. C’mon. With me. Oh – but I’ll take your guns before we go.”

Stripped of her weapons, Rebecca felt a little less powerful than she had been before. But her goal there was simple enough for her to remember even if things did get a bit spicy.

First, she wanted to know where the fuck (Y/N) had been for months. An easy enough question to ask, but whether she’d be able to make sense of the answer was another story entirely.

Second, she wanted to know why (Y/N) had caved and had joined the Lobos. Not just as a dirty cop, but as full-on fucking married to the piece of shit who’d killed her father and so many other people out there…

Third, she’d assess whether or not (Y/N) was there in full sound mind. If not, rescue mission would be a-go.

The upper levels of the Lobo mansion were quiet, which surprised Rebecca, given the hubbub below. Bellafrancesca’s office was at the end of the long corridor.

“This is Rebecca Quincy –“

“Officer Rebecca Quincy…” Rebecca spat.

“Gesundheit. Make her a drink. I’ll go speak to the boss,” Brice murmured to the meek, timid little teenager posing as Bellafrancesca’s assistant.

The kid stood up and moved in impossibly-high heels (for her) to the drinks cabinet.

“What do you like, Ma’am?”

“Water.” Rebecca scowled at the girl. The girl nodded, reaching down into a small mini fridge for a bottle of Voss. She fetched it, with a glass. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

It took an age for Brice to leave Bellafrancesca’s office and invite Rebecca in. But when he did, his face was mirthful. Bellafrancesca was sat behind her desk, smirking too. They’d both bought Rebecca’s bullshit.

“My, my,” Bellafrancesca said softly. “What is this? Officer Quincy. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I want… I want to know about (Y/N). What happened?” Rebecca took the seat offered to her. “Why is (Y/N) now a Lobo?” Bellafrancesca smiled widely.

“It has been a pleasure to watch (Y/N) step into this role Teddy has provided.”

“(Y/N) wouldn’t have stepped into this role willingly at all. What did Teddy do? What did you do?”

“We merely gave (Y/N) the same option you were given.” Bellafrancesca leaned back. “The only difference is that where you have resisted at every turn, (Y/N) chose to take the knee.”

“No. NO.”

“Yes, my dear… even today, you lied to my men to get yourself in here. Understand this, my darling. The three good cops of the city have been whittled down to one. You. One little cop dead, one little cop on bended knee before my son… what shall we do with you, hmm?” Rebecca missed it entirely. The little glance Bellafrancesca gave to Brice, who strode forwards and, before Rebecca knew what had happened, had her tied up expertly in knots she’d never be able to undo alone. “You… I think… will become a little toy for my daughter. She’s ready to break her first police officer, see… we just needed one that still resisted. And you’re a prime candidate.”

“(Y/N) won’t let this happen!”

Bellafrancesca simply laughed.

“Take dear Officer Quincy downstairs. Make sure she can’t escape. Mandy will visit her soon…”

“Of course, Boss.”

I sat beside Teddy in the car, shaking. I looked good today, matching his red suit with my own outfit. We had matching jewellery on, too. But there was something missing from my mind that I couldn’t fully understand, almost like a fog had been lifted and I was seeing the world in full HD again. We were outside a warehouse on the river, but I couldn’t focus on anything Teddy was telling me to focus on. I couldn’t figure out what it was I was missing.

“(Y/N).” Teddy took my hand, but his grip wasn’t loving, like usual. It was hard. Controlling. Domineering. “What did I just fucking say?”

“I… I d-don’t know –“

“Ugh!” he threw my hand back. I twisted the rings that sat heavy around my finger. “Why are you fucking spinning out on me now?! Huh?!”

“I – I’m not –“

“Ever since the fucking wedding you’ve been weird.” He looked at me.

He smirked.

I lost it.

“BECAUSE NOTHING MAKES ANY FUCKING SENSE, TEDDY!” I cried. “Nothing! Your behaviour! The situation! We were in love! We were so in love! And you were willing to give up being a fucking criminal so that we could focus on helping the community! And now you’re cold, you’re mean, and it’s like a foggy weight’s gone from my shoulders – ever since the wedding!” I turned to him. “I want my Teddy back!” Teddy looked at me. It was as though he hadn’t expected me to be so eloquent… until he burst out laughing.

“Oh, sweetheart!” he cried. “Oh, fucking genius!” He pulled his gun out, cocked it, and pressed the barrel against my temple. “Get out of the fucking car and play your part… obey me… or I’ll decorate the window with that magnificently dim little fucking brain of yours. Darling.”

I stared at him, but despite everything, I realised I wasn’t in any position to do anything else except obey him. And I remembered the vows I’d made at the town hall when I’d married him. A vow to obey what he told me to do… but he hadn’t framed it for this kind of situation. He’d framed it like I’d be in trouble and needed to trust him.

There was no fucking trust here.

Still, I got out of the car, and Teddy put his gun away.

The docks were empty, the breeze cool as I stood beside Teddy, slightly behind, watching. Three men were stood opposite too. A shipment was expected to come in that night, and Teddy was giving orders on how the eyewatering amount of cocaine would be distributed around evenly. Half would be sent to other states, and half would circulate Louisiana.

“And the… ahem… live contraband?” one of the guys asked. “They’re in the warehouse.”

“Oh. Them. Yeah. All girls?” Teddy folded his arms. The guy gave him a curt nod. “Show me. I’ll pick the sexy ones, clean ‘em up, and they can come work for me. The rest can go wherever there’s a toilet that needs cleaning.”

“You got it, boss.”

I felt sick.

“Women?” I breathed, falling into step beside him as we walked over to the warehouse behind the guys. “Teddy, you’ve imported women?!”

“Yeah. How else do you think we get hookers?” he looked down at me, face passive, like he was explaining how bread is made to a kid. He offered me his arm, and I knew better than to refuse it. “We gotta keep the boys happy, sweetheart.” I looked down.

Teddy was presented with a seat, and I was given one too, just beside him. He kept his hand on my thigh the entire time, possessive and controlling. I didn’t know, genuinely, if it was a show, or if it was natural for him to do that, now. But the confusion quickly left me as a line of women walked in. It was a disgustingly sorry sight. Some wore clothes too tight for them, shorts that ate into their hips and asses, shirts that threatened to burst around breasts unsupported by any bra. Other women – some of them mere girls – wore baggy, holey clothes that barely revealed anything.

And Teddy’s choices confused me further.

The girls and women covered up were sent off with three of his men to work at the Lobo Mansion, or in the Lobo-owned clubs in the city. The rest, the ones who clearly wanted to show off their assets, were sent to work as cleaners. One woman, sentenced to a life as a cleaner, made a run for Teddy, her long nails clawed as she lunged at him. But before she could spew out whatever language she actually spoke (because I wasn’t wholly convinced these women were North American), Teddy pulled out his already-loaded gun and nailed her through the forehead. He barely moved an inch, otherwise.

“Fucking crazy bitch,” he murmured. I felt sick again. I couldn’t stop it. Before I knew it, I turned and vomited, the meagre breakfast Teddy had given me five minutes for coming right back up. “Jesus fucking Christ, (Y/N)! What happened?!”

“Teddy…” I whimpered. “She – you d-didn’t –“

“I did have to, baby. Otherwise they would have all done the same shit.” He patted my back and smiled at me. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

As we drove home, Bellafrancesca called. I barely paid attention to the conversation, Bellafrancesca asking about the warehouse, the girls, any special ones… until she mentioned Rebecca. And how Rebecca was there now, wanting to speak to me. Teddy took the turn-off for the Lobo Mansion, and smiled at me.

“Time to see what you’re really fucking made of, baby,” Teddy grinned. When we parked up, he handed me a pack of gum, and reached into the tiny space behind his seat for a water for me. “Sick breath, baby. I wanna kiss you real bad, but I can’t kiss you with sick breath.” I flushed, and drank some of the water, then took a couple of pieces of gum. He watched me, bemused. Amused. Gleeful, almost.

“You wanna kiss me, but you won’t tell me what the fuck has happened these past couple of months, and why it all feels like a dream sequence.” I looked at him.

“Alright. I’ll cut you a deal.” He took the gum from me, then took my hands. “You show me what you’re capable of in here, with Quincy… blow my fucking mind… and I’ll tell you what happened. Deal?”

“Define what you mean by ‘show you what I’m capable of’ and ‘blow your mind’,” I replied. “Because blowing your mind could mean sucking you off so well, you can’t think or see straight for a week… or it could mean getting your gun from you and blowing your literal mind from your skull.” I smiled at him.

“I’m not suicidal, sweet cheeks,” he murmured, stroking my face. “And for a change, I’m not horny. Does that help?”

It helped.

I climbed from the car with him, jaw set. I knew what he wanted me to do, deep down. I just didn’t know if I’d be able to do it when faced with the one person who’d kept me on the straight and narrow in a city where the straight and narrow was a minority.

#teddy lobo #teddy lobo x reader #tedward lobo #renfield #dracula

[ducktales--uwu]

 We’re lame. Uncool. Weirdos. Whatever you want to say, but we go together, like, uhh, peanut butter and jelly - yeah, like a pair!” 

“There’s three of us!” Launchpad said, immediately shoving his hand on which he had been counting behind his back the second the other two looked up at him.

“Ughhhh,” Gosalyn sighed again, “Fine, peanut butter, jelly, and one of us can be the bread!”

“Dibs on Jelly,” Drake spat out as fast as he could.

“I’ll be the bread - because I’m the best at hugs,” Launchpad demonstrated his point by pulling his family tight again, though none of them protested.

“Guess I’m peanut butter then,” Gosalyn rolled her eyes, but she still squeezed an arm behind each of her dads, no matter how uncomfortable it might be.

“I hope you know I’m calling you my little peanut from now on,” Drake grinned down at his daughter, who immediately groaned at the addition of a new nickname.

After re-reading one of my favorite short fics for the millionth time I was inspired to draw the funny post-conversation image this bit put in my head. The fic is An Unconventional Cool and it’s held such a dear little place in my heart for the past 2 years being one of the first I read with these three💜

“helpher.png”

the face of regret

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #dt17 #drake mallard #gosalyn mallard #gosalyn waddlemeyer #launchpad mcquack #mallard-mcquack family #drakepad #my art #july #2022 #dtuwu arts

[goddesspharo]

whatcha up to tag game

tagged by: @antiquitea

currently reading: I'm about to start Lilly Dancyger's Negative Space.

last song: Mariah Carey's "We Belong Together" remix with Jadakiss and Styles P. I have NO IDEA why this has randomly been stuck in my head all day, but it has always been infinitely superior to the original. Totally different vibe. The rap is whatever ("we belong together like peanut butter and jelly" LOL), but there's a bit when Mariah Carey sings, "I only think of you on two occasions - that's day and night," that makes me laugh EVERY TIME I hear it. (The remix is perhaps second only to Mimi's Late Night Valentine's Mix during the quarantine, which rules because she just riffs with whistle notes for a good three minutes at the end while they go jazzy in the background.)

last movie: I took a break from finishing up Tony Scott's oeuvre to watch M3GAN. Total camp, but it wasn't M3GAN's fault that they didn't program in parental controls. That said, I do think the best bits were in the trailer. (Was "Titanium" in the trailer? Because I LOST IT during that scene. Also was extremely surprised to hear Charlotte Gainsborough's "Deadly Valentine" at the beginning.)

currently working on: My google docs is EMBARRASSING. I finish one thing and three vague concepts pop up like it's whack-a-mole. Anyway, I guess I'm still on my Top Gun: Maverick bullshit, I'm always on my Batman bullshit, and one day I'll write that fake dating Roswell, New Mexico fic maybe but probably not.

tagging: whoever wants to do it!

#ask me things

[inktheblot]

Tag 10 people you want to get to know better

Tagged by @cinnabuntastic , thank you!!

Relationship status: 4 years with @guesso13 💖💖

Favourite colour: Blue

Favourite food: Impossible question. I live for food and there's not much that I won't eat (a handful of allergies and small dislikes).

Song stuck in your head: Nothing Left to Lose by Mat Kearney.

Last thing you googled: Transformers Earthspark

Time: 2:33 pm

Dream trip: I haven't ever been out of the country (USA), or even to a lot of places in the country, so picking just one dream trip is almost as hard as picking one favorite food. The first thing that comes to mind is going to Scotland with guesso, who loved it when xe got to visit and has said that I definitely need to see it too. I'd also love for us to go on a camping trip together just about anywhere, which is something that we've wanted to do forever but haven't had the opportunity to yet, or to meet up with some more internet friends.

Last book you read: It's honestly been too long since I've actually picked up and read a whole book; most of my reading lately has been fanfic, webcomics, and online essays (and tbh I'm sadly behind on a lot of those as well). I don't remember what the last book I read was, sadly. Soon guesso and I want to start doing a mini book club sort of thing, where we can pick a book out that we want to read (whether that's an old favorite of one of us that the other hasn't read yet, or something that we both haven't read in a good while, or something brand new), and just take it at our own pace and be able to discuss and write about it together. I think it's gonna be really good for us, I'm looking forward to it.

Last book you enjoyed reading: Uhhh how about "last fic I bookmarked"? 😂 That would be "We Are Made of Dreams & Bones", an Owl House fic by @scribefindegil . I also recently pre-ordered the print edition of The Sea in You by Jessi Sheron, one of my favorite webcomics.

Last book you hated reading: See above -- that one's a big ol' 🤷‍♂️ from me. I simply Do Not Remember!

Favourite thing to cook/bake: I also love cooking/baking in general, but I immediately thought of these watercolor cookies which are a super fun baking plus art project. We made them last Christmas and expanded from the snowflake idea to also include ornaments and presents and lots of other designs as well, there's definitely lots of ways you could go with it. And at least for me, known Haver Of Shaky Hands, it was a lot easier than trying to decorate something all over with icing tips, haha.

Favourite craft to do in your spare time: Bead Lizard My Beloved 💚 and other lanyard/keychain creachers as well! It's a fun craft AND stim. I like to draw and other things like that as well, though I'm slow at it.

Most niche dislike: Anyone else not a fan of the peanut butter + jelly combination?

Opinion on circus(es) now and in history: I went to a circus as a little kid a total of one (1) time, and I barely remember it -- I don't think I was too impressed, for whatever reason. Obviously now that I have the awareness I'm against anything that involves the mistreatment of animals for entertainment. I don't really know a whole lot about what circuses these days look like, how they're operated, if conditions have improved, etc. Of course there are also plenty of circus performances that don't involve animals as well; I haven't been to any of those personally, but I would look more favorably on something like that, granted that the human performers are also not being exploited.

Do you have a sense of direction and if not what is the worst way you ever got lost: I think I have a pretty good sense of direction. I've been navigator on quite a few road trips and the only time I can think of that I've gotten lost was wandering off with a couple of friends as a kid.

Tagging: @quetzalpapalotl @andromedaprime @gunupwallflower @lohikaar @mercury-falls @b0wieblue @bitegore @korloniumcrystals @honestlyvan @howtotrainyournana and/or anyone else who wants to! No pressure!

#inklings #replies #tag game

[justahopelessaromantic]

Let there be damage ensued and tabloid news and that kind of love (Scene 1: Honey, I laugh when it sinks in)

Fandom: South Park Ships: Bunny (Kenny/Butters) Link to Scene 2 Accompanying Playlist for this Fic on Spotify and Youtube Disclaimer: The author of this work does not condone/endorse the messages, themes, and concepts presented by South Park. Considering how said work is melodramatic gay fanfiction written in theatrical script format of all things, I'm sure this seems reasonable to assume. However, it’s astonishing how many times I've stumbled upon people in this fandom who are wholehearted believers of almost everything the show says, and, quite frankly, I would rather evaporate from this plane of existence than potentially be presumed as a bigot or, god forbid, a centrist. Summary: In the wee hours of the morning, a prayer is answered. (Or:) "Your friends are a fate that befell me / Hell is the talking type / I'd suffer Hell if you’d tell me / What you'd do to me tonight"

SETTING:

An upper-middle-class kitchen in the dark. Blood is everywhere. Two corpses, dressed fairly plainly and modestly while appearing as somewhere in their mid-40s, are spread across the room. The man is bleeding out via gunshot wound while the knife, covered in blood, peanut butter, and jelly, is still sticking out of the woman’s throat. Two PB&J’s rest next to a children’s lunchbox. The crusts on one are only partially cut off. A part of the floor has sticky white stuff splattered here and there. The kitchen window shines a ray of blue/white light into the room that lands right between the window and the woman’s body. The audience can see the stove. The soft sound of its humming is optional, but preferred.

BUTTERS is standing opposite of the man’s body on the other side of the room, holding an overly large shotgun in hand. A beat passes. He‘s still frozen as he drops it, only fliching as it hits the ground. A beat passes. He shakily stumbles over to the window, completely out of it as he awkwardly steps over her body before sinking to his knees in front of the window. He folds his hands on the windowsill before a beat passes. He suddenly remembers himself, shutting his eyes, bowing his head, and bringing one of his hands to his throat. He makes a cross with his hands while reciting the beginning of a Hail Mary prayer like someone who’s memorized it perfectly but is clearly in shock. He speaks with a heavy southern drawl and accent.

BUTTERS

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Now trembling, he laces his fingers together again.

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with Thee. Blessed art Thou amongst women, and blessed is the Fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now…and at the hour of our death. Amen.

A beat passes. He begins, sounding unsure of himself, almost like he’s perpetually asking a question.

…Dear lord…Hi…I know we haven’t exactly spoken in a while, and- and I do apologize for that!...I’m sure it must be frustrating, waiting on one of your most devoted followers to check in. Lord knows- Oh, whoops! My bad. I know it drives me up the wall when I text my friends about hanging out over the weekend and then ERIC don’t even say nothing about it until third period. O-or when KENNY calls me back, but it takes him a sec, and then when ya pick up the phone, his throat’s all deep and scratchy and you know he’s not really calling to talk. He’s just calling to show off, ‘cause he knows I can tell he just got some good pussy, I can smell it on his breath through the damn phone line. So then- then he starts going on about how he’d loooove to make plans, and “How was your day, Leo?”, and “Hey, Bun bun, I aced that test you tutored me on, ain't ya just so proud of me?” Fucker. All while that poor girl’s probably just sitting there, waiting for him to just quit his yammering, so she can finally get some fucking beauty sleep!

(Snapping his fingers and pointing)

Or- Or when you call your parents about the list they left you ‘cause it just don’t make any sense, but they only pick up while they’re pulling into the driveway, and by then it's too late and you're practically grounded already, so you’re all like “Well, to hell with it!”. And then you get into even more trouble for saying that, even tho-

(Pausing for a second before remembering himself and folding his hands again)

..Oh…Sorry. I don’t mean to make any excuses or nothing. I know missing your nightly prayers still ain't acceptable behavior…Well, I mean…

(Gesturing vaguely)

I know none of this is acceptable behavior. What I said, what I did. I- I just…

Butters makes a frustrated sigh borderlining between a growl or groan. He continues, voice gradually getting shakier until Butters is barely holding back the waterworks.

Everyone’s coming here for the wake…and my uncles are already real sore, I bet. ‘Bout grandma dying…Can’t imagine how sore they’ll be, seeing what I did to their baby sister!

Butters bursts into tears at the phrase “baby sister”, burying his face in his hands and letting out a few sobs.

And how sore I’ll be if they figure I should-

He lets out a choked sob before taking in a shuddery breath and exhaling slowly to collect himself, voice grave and wavering.

…I know I ain't in any position to ask for nothing, on account of what I’ve done…But if you could just send down something nice…like a sign or something, or…

(Pausing, his tone shifting into something soft)

…or an angel…Yeah…yeah, an angel. The loveliest one you got, won’t you?…One I could trust.

A beat passes. Kenny climbs through the open window, speaking in a muffled voice.

KENNY

(Sly)

Sure you need one, ‘cause I’m looking at-

Butters stumbles back as Kenny lands face first before frantically scrambling to his feet. A beat-up parka covers his mouth and hair. The hood has fur lining the edge. He’s illuminated by the light as he stares at the dead father before slowly lowering his head to meet Butters’s gaze. A beat passes.

BUTTERS

(Overjoyous)

That’ll do!

Butters throws his arms around Kenny’s legs, burying his face in them. Kenny does not move.

KENNY

(In abject horror)

…Holy shit, dude.

(Looking over to the mother’s corpse and pulling down his hood, unmuffling his voice)

…The hell did you get dragged into this time?

BUTTERS

(Cheerily)

Nothing!

KENNY

(Trying to sound casual, but still failing)

Ah, so this is all a morbid hallucination my fried brain cooked up…That checks out.

BUTTERS

(Realizing)

Oh! Well, no, this ain't nothing! This is landing me a one-way ticket to hell. I mean I didn’t get dragged into it.

KENNY

…Meaning…like, Cartman’s not gonna burst out of your dad’s dead body and start waving around his lower intestine in a victory dance? This is all you?

BUTTERS

Yup!

(Letting go of Kenny to sit criss-cross applesauce, peering up at him contently as he starts taking care of evidence)

You see, my mom came in while I was packing lunch for the both of us, and she starts hollering about me being a perv and a homewrecker, and I didn’t quite get what she meant, so I ask her, right? So she whips out this old condom my uncle musta left from yesterday, and I figure she suspects my old man, so I try to explain myself, but she just kept yelling and crying—And, she’s getting real hysterical, Ken! Think she might’a had too much wine at the funeral.

KENNY

(Not looking up from what he’s doing)

Oh, I believe it!

BUTTERS

(Giggling)

So-so she keeps waving that…

(Gradually growing more anxious and uncomfortable before delving into pure rage)

…thing around. And I start explaining even harder and she just keeps dangling that thing in my face and some of my-my stuff starts spilling on the floor. And then I start fretting over stepping in it and how pissed off my dad’s gonna get if I don’t clean up in time, and how he’s almost home, and how mom’s just…holding the proof- I didn’t even have to tell her! She’s fucking holding it! Which means she knows, and she’s just standing there, yelling at me! And…well, by then, she was just yelling at the lord, I think, but she just-

(Trembling and crying tears of anguish and anger)

I just couldn’t-

Kenny whips around at the sound of crying. At some point, Butters has stood up in anger, now facing the audience.

Stop thinking about how I was…

He trails off, roughly whipping under his nose with an open palm and sniffling before hitting the side of his thigh twice in frustration. He balls it into a fist and hits himself a third time, gingerly shaking his head before turning back to face Kenny.

…What’d you call it again?

KENNY

…Assaulted?

BUTTERS

(Aggressively pointing)

Yeah, that! I was- I got assaulted-

Butters stumbles. Before he can collapse onto the floor in violent, furious sobs and gasps, Kenny catches him, holding him up in his arms and keeping a steady grip. Constantly switching from burying his face into Kenny’s arm and screaming in his face, Butters tries to pull himself together multiple times while ranting. He doesn’t fully succeed once. Slightly frantic and at a bit of a loss for words, Kenny doesn’t waver once, though he sounds like he’s just on the cusp of doing so. He just keeps eye contact, fervently hanging onto each word.

He fucking touched me and I was a baby and she was holding it in her fucking. Hands-

Butters stomps his foot on the words “fucking” and “hands”. He lands on Kenny’s foot the second time. Kenny does not let go.

And she still didn’t do shit, and it was a big fucking deal! I mean, it was, right?

KENNY

(Anxiously reassuring)

Yeah, yeah, it was, man.

BUTTERS

And I just thought that somebody should be…someone shoulda been doing something about it, yaknow? And they didn’t! So I did it- I did something.

KENNY

You did. I can tell.

BUTTERS

I told that fuck- I said “I don’t! Care! Somebody has to pay for what happened to me, and if God won’t do it, you will!” And then I shoved it in her throat and I laughed in her face, and then dad storms in screaming his freaking damn head off and I didn’t trust him, I never did-

KENNY

As you should.

BUTTERS

So I watched him go for that fucking belt, the bastard, and then I got pissy, ‘cause he didn’t even have to kill his mom, she croaked all on her own, and the last kid she put her fucking hands on was me, Kenny, me! Not him, me!

KENNY

I know, dude. I know.

BUTTERS

And, and I got the shotgun off the wall and I fired two, I fired two warning shots, and I felt bad, so I cried, and my eyes got blurry, so, so I missed, but I don’t care! I did it. I did it, goddamnit. I did it all on my own, Ken! I did it all by myself!

Butters finally falls apart, hysterically sobbing into Kenny’s shoulder as Kenny pulls him into a bear hug. He rubs circles into Butters’s back, scrunches a hand into his hair, and alternates between shushing him, whispering sweet nothings, and roughly planting kisses all over the top of his head. He starts crying, though he’s notably much more composed than Butters.

KENNY

You did, you did, man! You did it all by yourself, and now everything's gonna be okay, and I’m gonna take care of everything, and I’m so, so, fucking proud of you, Bunny, holy shit, I’m so fucking proud!

BUTTERS

(Looking up and gasping for breath)

Honest?

KENNY

(Letting out a watery cackle)

Fuck yeah, are you kidding me? Dude, I just slit my mom’s throat and booked it.

(Hoisting Butters up and spinning him around)

This shit was performance art, baby!

BUTTERS

(Giggling while slapping Kenny’s shoulders and kicking wildly)

Kenny! Kenny, put me down, ya silly! I’m gonna puke!

KENNY

And miss this lovely view?

BUTTERS

(Slightly annoyed, but still in good spirits)

Kenny!

KENNY

(Chuckling as he sets Butters down and bends over)

Sorry! Shit, sorry. C’mon, hard part’s over, man. Now I get to teach you about all the cool, sexy stuff I learned from the investigative murder porn channel. You know, the one you're such a scaredy cat about.

Butters, now riding on Kenny’s back, piggyback-style, shoves a fist in the air and cheers. Kenny laughs and walks offstage. LIGHTS OUT.

#fanfiction #south park #sp bunny #script #abuse #fanfic #bunny #romance #shipping #light gore #murder #kenny mccormick #butters stotch #southpark butters #sp butters #kenny x butters #butters leopold stotch #kenny #sp kenny #south park kenny #butters #scriptwriting #drama #child abuse #emotional abuse #south park fic #south park fanfiction #sp fic #sp fanfiction #whump

[annathesillyfriend]

Anna's June Fic Recs

Welcome to my June fic recommendations masterpost!! This month has been a little hectic, I didn't have as much time to read so I am doing just one list. I really hope July's gonna be more productive reading wise, now that I am at home with no exams. But still, I've read some pretty amazing stories and I hope you're gonna enjoy them as well 😌 I wish you all a wonderful summer! 🥰

To all the writers - I love you and I appreciate you so much! To all the readers - please, share the fics you read and love. The reblog really makes the change! It’s the least we can do to show our gratitude.

Holland & Co.

✨Tom Holland✨

naughty noises by @thegirlintheswivelchair

one-shot, 18+, caution!!! hot!!!

share by @/blindingdutchy

one-shot, 18+, pornstar!tom x pornstar!reader, 🥵🥵

lazy lover by @blindingdutchy

one-shot, 18+, the perfect balance between soft and hot

torn leaves, broken hearts by @t-lostinworlds

one-shot, this is so full of emotion and so beautiful and so heartbreaking at the same time

taunt by @duskholland

one-shot, 18+, rich kid!tom, golf, fwb, all that jazz, hannah is feeding us once again

call me when you get this by @multiholland

one-shot, college!tom

this fic by @/multiholland

one-shot, so cute!!!

tension and temptation and sensuality and serenity by @marvelouspeterparker

two-shot, 18+, pornstar!tom x pornstar!reader

peanut butter and extra jelly and more jelly, please! by @starknik22

two-shot, 18+ for a bit in the second one, actress!haz's co-star!reader, jealous!tom, loved every second!

this fic by @blissfulparker

blurb, tom vs. road rage 😂

also this one by @/blissfulparker

blurb, tom wants to propose but it didn't go as planned

putter fantasy by @worldoftom

series, 18+, roommate!actor!golfer!tom, fwb, this is just fucking great

the best birthday by @celestialholland

one-shot, birthday boy!tom

since then by @softholand

one-shot, best friend!tom

✨Harrison Osterfield✨

electric love by @lauras-collection

series, 18+, fwb!roommate!harrison, amazing 👏

bluberry muffins by @peterplanet

one-shot, meeting harrison at a cafe, so sweet 🥺

impromptu hoe for haz blurbs by @greenorangevioletgrass

collection of blurbs, 18+, delicious!!!

MCU

✨Steve Rogers✨

the dumb bet by @bccky

one-shot, fun times at sam's bachelor party! and there's karaoke!

city love by @captain-kelli

one-shot, so beautiful!!

quiet light by @xbuchananbarnes

part of the you are the sun universe, you can't go wrong with Dani's work, just go read it all

library lesson by @jurassicbarnes

one-shot, 18+, modern royal!au

his saviour by @kinanabinks

one-shot, civilian!steve x superhero!reader

✨Sam Wilson✨

eyes wide open by @babycap

one-shot, sam becomes a father 🥺🥺

all i wanna be, all i ever wanna be, is somebody to you by @blackberrybucky

one-shot, 🥰💕

✨Bucky Barnes✨

daisy chain by @belowva

one-shot, avenger!reader, soulmate!au, so nice!

dearly beloved by @indyluckycharlie

one-shot, mafia!bucky x mafia!reader, amazing!!!

the love club by @slyyywriting

series, 18+, mob!reader, so bloody good!!

lamented & assured by @belladonnabarnes

one-shot, just stunning

hide & seek by @angrythingstarlight

one-shot, dad!bucky 🥺🥺

anger that loves by @/babyboibucky

one-shot, so beautiful!!

unfair by @/babyboibucky

one-shot, falling in love with bucky, get your tissues, friends

deserve better, undeserving, deserve the best by @babyboibuckywrites

series, so much angst 😫

trilogy by @buckycuddlebuddy

series, 18+, fuckboy!bucky

the coupon book by @tuiccim

series, 18+, with a guest appearance from another super solider 👀

flight risk and no control by @wkemeup

two-shot, protective!bucky, so sad but so beautiful

suburbia by @/wkemeup

one-shot, fake married!au

dreamland by @blissfullybarnes

series, avenger!reader, hits you right in the feels 🥺

✨SarahBucky✨

forever by @samwilsons-pillowpecs

one-shot, this is just poetry at its finest

✨Joaquin Torres✨

sunrise by @calif0rnia-lovers

one-shot, black!reader, reuniting after the blip

sweeter than honey by @/xbuchananbarnes

one-shot, 18+, Dani's work is always a treat but her Torres fics are just exeptional

whispered words by @moonlight-prose

one-shot, angst & fluff

favourite crime by @mischiefmanaged71

one-shot, angsty

✨Peter Parker✨

girlfriend and piece of you by @spideyspeaches

two-shot, 18+, so good!!

all too well by @/spideyspeaches

one-shot, singer!reader, just what you'd expect from a story titled like a tswift song. especially that song

she doesn't even know by @loveaffaire

one-shot, best friend!peter

just you and me by @vampireoutofbusiness

one-shot, 18+, first time with peter, amazing!

angel eyes by @londonspidey

one-shot, 18+, first time with peter, the softest thing ever

✨Thor✨

lightning in my veins, and thunder in my chest by @blackberrybucky

one-shot, 18+, 🥵🥵

✨Loki✨

beyond bruises by @spilledkauffie

one-shot, jealous!loki

Others

memories and misconceptions by @peeterparkr and @erodasghosts

two stories that go together - Tom's and Harry's, they're just starting but are already so wonderful!

1k follower celebration masterlist by @rodrikstark

collection of fics, mix of characters, each one better than the last

✨Chris Evans✨

munchies by @buckyhoney

one-shot, after party for 2

✨Ransom Drysdale✨

undercover boss by @chase-your-dreams-away

series, in progress, so good!!

✨Johny Storm✨

aftershocks by @mypoisonedvine

one-shot, 18+, enemies and lovers

✨Chris Beck✨

never had it from the start by @tinymalscoffee

one-shot, 18+, breaking up, angst and so much heartbreak

#tom holland x reader #harrison osterfield x reader #peter parker x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #joaquin torres x reader #anna's fic recs #june fic recs #fic recs

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

hometown

summary: Hallmark movies aren’t real life, and yet your childhood crush is helping decorate your family’s store for Christmas.

word count: 4.2k

tagging: @calgarycanuck @sorryjustafangirl @tayella13 @wastedheartcth @kiedhara @writinghockey @unfoundtreasure​ @nolanscheeks​ @bqstqnbruin​/ add yourself to my christmas fics tag list 

masterpost of my christmas fics

“Did you see Brock was back in town?”

The question, innocent enough, had been directed at you more times you could count now that it was the holiday season. Apparently, word got around fast, and with each familiar face you cashed out at your family’s bakery you were asked that one simple question.

You just wished people would stop asking you about your ex-boyfriend.

It had been years since you’d broken things off with Brock—three days after he was drafted to Vancouver and you were committed to staying in Minnesota. But that hadn’t been the last time you’d seen him; your families were close and you’d grown up with him, so you were forced to see him each holiday season. You just wanted to go one year without having to see your first love—first everything—mingling with your parents or have his mother make you your favorite dessert because she knew you loved it so much.

Christmas season was in full swing, and you had been in charge of picking up the decorations for the tree your parents insisted on getting for the shop, despite it being so close to the holiday. You ran the errand happily, taking the chance to slip out and get some fresh air. With arms laden with bags full of lights and ornaments, you returned to the bakery successful.

Pushing open the door, you were hit with the familiar combination of baked goods and Christmas music. Your dad called your name in greeting, and your mom shot you a look from behind the register. You didn’t understand what she was trying to warn you of, but you followed her not-so subtle gesture to the front of the store where—

Where Brock was setting up the Christmas tree in the front of the store.

“Did you see Brock was back in town?” God, you hated that question. Your dad, ever oblivious to the position he just put you in, grinned happily while holding the tree steady for Brock to secure it to the base. You pursed your lips, forcing a smile and a nod while setting down the bags of decorations you had gathered.

“Hey, how’ve you been?” Brock called over his shoulder, flashing you a grin before standing to his full height once making sure the tree was secure. You forced an even faker smile for him, mumbling nothing more than a ‘good, thanks’ before ducking behind the counter to cash out a customer while your mother stepped aside.

“We’re running out for a moment, but you can watch over the place. It shouldn’t be too busy.” Your mom told you, grabbing her coat before you had the chance to object. Bidding your parents goodbye, you kept your gaze set firmly on the counter after the only customer left, until Brock cleared his throat to try and break the tension.

“Thanks for setting up the tree.” You decided to be civil. It wasn’t like things ended poorly with you and him—they just ended, and you were the one with the final say. The distance wasn’t something you were ready to deal with at such a young age, no matter how much you loved him.

You just wished that the last time you had seen him, ever, was when you broke his heart.

“Don’t worry about it; I came by to see if you were around and saw your dad needed some help.” He shrugged his shoulders as if it was nothing, instead of him declaring that he was looking for you and reminding you how his kindness made you fall for him in the first place.

“When did you get back in town?” You decided to ask, as if you didn’t know the answer—your mom had written in her calendar when Brock came back into town so she could schedule the annual holiday dinner both of your families had together.

“Just yesterday. My flight got in early and Mom kept me cooped up in the house all day.” He explained with a lightness to his voice as he talked about his mom that had you smiling despite the fact that you shouldn’t be smiling with your ex in your family’s bakery.

“I bet, she kidnapped me last week so we could bake cookies together.” You explained with a smile. Brock rolled his eyes with a grin at his mother’s antics, and for a moment the chuckle you shared felt a little too much like old times and you cleared your throat. “If you’re not busy, would you want to stick around and help me decorate the tree?”

“I’d love to.” He grinned, and you smiled sheepishly before making your way out from behind the counter while there were no customers in the store and grabbed the bags you had just gotten full of the decorations. The store’s speakers were playing Christmas music, and you and Brock worked well together to get the colored string lights hung up and by the time you were moving to hang up the ornaments it was like old times with laughter and smiles.

Brock was back in town, and he brought ghosts of your past back with him.

Plugging in the tree, you stood back with Brock to admire your handiwork. This was far from the first time you had decorated a tree with him, but back then you’d admire your work and seal it with a kiss and the declaration of your love for each other—something you’d definitely not be doing then, even though he was smiling at you like he had when you were teenagers and looking as attractive as ever.

You forced yourself to move, to get out from under his stare, made your way behind the counter. There wasn’t really anything you needed to do, so you settled on shuffling a few papers on the counter by the register—advertisements for other local businesses, coupons, and the annual Christmas card your mother made you take. Brock let out a chuckle, picking up the card to examine it.

Your heart skipped a beat in your chest as you watched him brush his thumb over the goofy smile on your face printed on the card, the action so simple yet entirely too intimate for the nature of your relationship with him. Or, lack of a relationship.

Something unspoken settled in the air between you and Brock, something that felt eerily similar to the old way you used to be. Still, you couldn’t find it in you to be upset about it when you met his gaze and he was smiling softly at you—the same smile he always wore when he used to confess his love for you.

“You should stop by my place tonight; have a beer, watch a movie.” Brock offered with a light tone.

And stupidly, you agreed.

You had only been to Brock’s place a handful of times—and not once was he ever even there, the Boesers asking you to drop something off or pick something up at their son’s house—but the drive felt familiar all the same.

Brock met you at the front door, swinging it open with a grin before you even made it to the top porch step. Your heart skipped a beat in your chest the moment you saw him, but you pushed down the feeling and instead focused on the dogs rushing past him to greet you.

“It’s Coolie and Milo, right?” You asked for clarification, crouching down to scratch the dogs between the ears. You were a little embarrassed to admit that you knew their names because of his social media, not wanting to seem like an obsessed ex. But you were friends first, since you were in diapers, and rationalized that it was okay for friends to follow each other’s lives through Instagram.

“Hello to you, too.” Brock teased through a chuckle, and you scrunched your face up at him playfully. He should have known you better, that you’d greet his dogs before you’d greet him. “But yeah, Coolie and Milo.”

Giving the dogs one more scratch between the ears each for good measure, you stood to your full height and followed Brock into his place. He waited patiently by the door as you kicked off your shoes and hung up your coat. You tried not to let yourself feel awkward; it was Brock, the same guy who you shared peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with from the age of two until the day you broke up.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve already picked the movie.” Brock told you, leading the way into his house and into his living room. You had been in his house before, but never once had you stopped to look around, usually just dropping off a box or grabbing something for his mom.

“I’m fine with whatever.” You told him with a shrug of your shoulders as you dropped onto the couch. Brock copied your actions, sitting slightly too close to you than what was probably necessary, but you didn’t mind.

It was easy to fall back into your old routine with him. You had loved him for so long and so hard that it was almost second nature to laugh and joke with him, your head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped securely around your waist to keep you close. You were so comfortable in your position, feeling warm and safe, that when the first movie ended you suggested another.

It was a little less easy for you to wake up the next morning on his couch, cuddled close to him with both dogs laying across your legs. Both of you were laying on your side, facing each other with your legs tangled together. Brock’s arms were encasing you, holding you close to him while your head was tucked under his chin.

You momentarily panicked, wondering if you should try and make a swift exit in order to avoid having Brock kick you out. But you didn’t have long to ponder, because soon after you woke up, Brock did too, and all your worry melted away when you saw his sleepy grin.

“Mornin’” He mumbled, voice low and laden with sleep. It was impossible to hide your grin and you reached a hand up to brush away the blond hair that had fallen onto his forehead in his sleep.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” You teased, smile widening as he rolled his eyes at your comment. He was as attractive as ever, and it warmed your heart to see him so sleepy and relaxed while in your arms.

“If you wanted to spend the night, you could have just asked.” He chirped back, and you couldn’t help the quick laugh you let out at his words.

You tucked your head under his chin once more to hide the look on your face. It probably wasn’t a good idea to be in your current position—cuddled up with your ex-boyfriend and his dogs. But you wanted nothing more than to stay in with him for the rest of the day. Or maybe, until his flight took him back to Vancouver and away from you once more.

“You know, you never told me why you were looking for me yesterday at the bakery.” You murmured into the junction of his neck and shoulder, not wanting him to see the bashful look on your face. You hoped you weren’t reading into things, but something about the way he wasn’t making a move to let you go told you that Brock was sending you signals.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He mumbled back, pulling you impossibly closer while leaning his head back to press a kiss to your forehead before settling back into your previous position. You hummed out a questioning response, asking him without words to elaborate. He sighed, deep and heavy, and you felt each one of his movements from your position. “I miss you. All the time.”

You stayed silent, unsure how to respond to that. You missed him, too, from the moment you broke up with him, you missed him when he sat across the table from you at conjoined family gatherings, you missed him at that very moment, where you were wrapped in his arms and slowly waking up together.

So, instead of responding, you pressed your lips to his in a kiss years in the making. It was slow, at first, both of you remembering what it was like to be pressed against the other. Your hand reached up to thread through his hair on the back of his neck, and the moment you made contact you felt his tongue swipe across your bottom lip requesting access.

You gave it to him, and suddenly your bodies were flipped so that he was hovering over top of you and your back was pressed into the mattress, not once breaking the kiss. You knew it was a bad idea, but it felt so right that every worry in your mind melted away the longer you stayed there, making out like teenagers on his couch.

You’d deal with the consequences later.

The next few days passed in a whirlwind, most of your free time spent with Brock. It was blissful, like nothing had even changed between you and it almost felt too easy. But things with Brock had always been easy—the start of your relationship was nothing more than a simple progression from childhood best friends to something more.

The first person to call you out for your change in relationship with Brock was, naturally, your mother. She had pulled you aside the morning of Christmas Eve, stopping you on your way out the door for lunch with Brock, an old photo album on her lap and a smile on her lips. Patting the seat on the couch beside her, you sighed and followed her command.

“I found this while cleaning out the basement.” She told you, flipping open the first page of the album. You recognized the first photo, it was of you and Brock as toddlers, ice cream smeared on both of your faces along with wide smiles and arms slung over each other's shoulders.

“Oh, god, we look like dorks.” You grinned, pointing at another picture of a middle school-aged you and Brock posing for a picture on what you assumed to be the first day of seventh grade. Your mom chuckled, flipping deliberately to the last page.

It was clear what her intention was, the photo was of you and Brock on his draft day—the catalyst of your breakup. You couldn’t help but smile sadly at the picture, you and Brock looked so happy; he was wearing his Vancouver jersey and pressing a kiss to your temple and you were wearing the goofiest smile.

Still, even now, so many years later, you could still remember how terrified you felt knowing he would be leaving you for some place in Canada you’d never been to.

“You love him, you always have.” Your mom stated, as if it was a plain fact and not the very sentiment you’d spent years convincing yourself wasn’t true. You felt yourself deflate, and you forced your gaze away from the album.

“Mom, it’s been years. He doesn’t love me anymore.” You told her, not sure why you suddenly decided to bare your soul to her. Maybe it was the recent reminiscing, or the amount of time you had spent with Brock, but you knew how you felt despite knowing that you absolutely should not.

“But you still love him?” The million dollar question. If you said it aloud, then it’d be real, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that yet. You had spent countless nights convincing yourself that no, you absolutely did not, love him anymore.

“That doesn’t matter anymore.” Sighing, you shook your head and trained your gaze onto the floor underneath your feet. Sure, Brock was your friend again and you had fallen into an almost relationship-esque state with kisses and the sorts, but there was no way that he still loved you.

“That always matters.” She told you in a tone that had you pursing your lips to hold back a comment because you could tell she was close to chastising you. Tough love, she’d say. “He’s never stopped loving you, either.”

“I’ve got to go, Mom.” You sighed, standing up off the couch and grabbing the photo album. You couldn’t let her comment get to you, you were just getting Brock back and you didn’t want to ruin anything by telling him how you felt and have him not feel the same way.

The drive to Brock’s place—one you had made nearly a dozen times to visit him every free moment you had—gave you time to clear your head. Pulling into his driveway, you felt a familiar feeling of giddiness bubble inside you at the prospect of being in his presence again.

Like always, Brock was waiting for you at his door with Coolie and Milo at his side. Almost as if it was a habit that you hadn’t broken days after he was drafted, you greeted him with a kiss that he eagerly returned.

“I made us lunch.” Brock told you, a nervous edge to his voice that shouldn’t have been there. Despite the odd greeting, you smiled at him and entered his house like you belonged there. You grinned, holding up the photo album you had been excited to show him.

“Look what I’ve found.” You cheered, leading the now-familiar way into Brock’s house to make yourself at home on his couch. He made a noise of acknowledgment as he slipped into the kitchen, returning with a plate that he set onto the coffee table before taking a seat beside you. “Did you make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”

It shouldn’t have been that deep, not in the slightest, but it was so much more between you and Brock. You’d been splitting sandwiches with him since before you could remember, and your first official date with him was spent over peanut butter and jelly.

“I can make something else, if you want.” He told you, his flushed cheeks clear evidence that he knew exactly what the implication behind the not-so simple sandwich was. You shook your head, picking up your half and tapping the album in your lap.

“If we’re going to be nostalgic, we’re doing it right.” Brock chuckled at your comment, one arm behind you on the couch as you leaned back into him. Flipping open the first page, you heard him groan as he spotted the same middle school picture you had complained about.

“I looked like such a dork back then.” He chuckled over a mouthful of his sandwich. You couldn’t help but laugh at the way he echoed your words from earlier.

“First of all, that’s what I said too. Secondly, who would have guessed that you would have grown up into being such a heartbreaker.” You teased, nudging him playfully with your elbow as you flipped the page.

“I’m pretty sure you were the heartbreaker.” He commented offhandedly, only seeming to realize the impact of his words after they settled in the air and you felt him stiffen beside you. Staying silent, you continued to flip through the photo album as you finished the sandwiches.

Your heart ached as you looked at the various snapshots of your life with Brock—when you were ten and he was on the ice while you were outside the rink grinning ear to ear while donned in one of his extra jerseys, the typical cheesy prom pictures where your mothers made you pose a million and one different ways, when you were five years old and on his dad’s boat together wearing wide smiles and too-large life jackets.

Finally, you got to the end of the album and to the draft day photo. You could feel his gaze on the picture, and you knew he was launched back into that day the same way you had been when you had first seen it.

“I was afraid. Terrified, actually.” You muttered, keeping your gaze trained on your lap as you felt him pull the album off of your lap to set it on the coffee table before he wrapped his hand around yours. He didn’t speak at first, so you decided to fill the silence with more nonsense ramblings before you could stop yourself. “Vancouver was—is—so far away and I couldn’t handle the thought of not having you close so I thought it would be easier to not have you at all. It wasn’t, not even a little bit.”

“I know.” He mumbled, kissing your knuckles and repeating the words until you couldn’t help but believe him. “I know, and I don’t blame you in the slightest.”

“I ruined us, Brock. You were the greatest thing I ever had and I threw it away because I was scared.” It was as if you couldn’t stop confessing now that you had started, tears brimming in your eyes and voice catching in your throat.

“You didn’t ruin anything.” He mumbled against your temple before pressing a kiss there. “Stay right here, I’ll be back.” You watched in confusion as he jumped to his feet and left the room, Milo trailing after him while Coolie stayed by your side, dropping his head in your lap as if he knew you needed some extra love. You busied yourself by scratching him between the ears, and soon enough the sound of Brock returning garnered your attention. “I got you a Christmas gift.”

“I didn’t get you anything—” You started, a moment of dread coursing through your veins but Brock shook his head to quell your worries.

“Just open it.” He urged, handing you the envelope and taking his previous seat perched on the couch next to you. You pursed your lips, but otherwise did as he asked. It took you a moment to understand what was inside, but suddenly it all clicked the moment you read Vancouver International Airport.

“Brock, these are one way tickets.” You told him, looking between him and the plane tickets in your hands. His gaze was serious, no hint of jest or teasing to be seen. He had bought you one way tickets to Vancouver. One way tickets to the life you could have had with him all those years ago.

“No more being scared. You and I can do this.” Voice level, you had never once seen him look as sure of himself and his decisions than he did at that very moment. It was an insane decision he was sure of, asking you to go back to Vancouver with him despite not technically being in a relationship.

“This is crazy, Brock.” You laughed breathily, more out of shock than humor. Though, you had to admit, you were considering his offer. Nothing was tying you to Minnesota; you had graduated college and had been applying to jobs out of state—what’s the difference if it was out of the country?

“I’m all for crazy, as long as it’s with you.” He joked, one hand coming up to cup your cheek and tilt your head in his direction. You couldn’t believe this was happening, you’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t thought about this before. “I still love you. And I know you love me too.”

“Where would I even live?” You didn’t even try to dispute his comment, because he was speaking nothing but the truth and you didn’t want to dispute it. You would’ve shouted it from the rooftops if it meant that you got to be with him. No more fear, no more worry.

“Well, I was hoping with me, but if you want your own place I can help you find something.” There was a lightness to his tone that you adored, but he wasn’t joking about anything. He was offering you something you thought you had lost years ago—the chance at a life with him.

“You’re serious?” The question was dumb, you knew he was telling nothing but the truth and that he’d never joke about something so serious, not when it meant you and him having a second chance at happiness.

“About you? Always.” His charming words had you smiling, deciding almost for you what your answer was. Still, you pretty much had your mind made up the moment you saw the tickets.

“Let’s do it.”

Brock barely let the words slip past your lips before he was kissing you between cheers and laughs drawn out by pure happiness. You were all smiles as he wrapped his arms around you, tugging you so that you were straddling his lap. You broke the kiss to admire him, his grin wide and eyes bright as he admired you back.

“I love you.” You told him confidently, brushing his hair off of his forehead and pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. He grinned, hands squeezing your waist from where they settled on you.

“I love you, too, so much.” He breathed, unable to stop himself from tilting his head up and capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. “God, I missed hearing you say that.”

“I’ll say it every day.” You paused to kiss him again. “In Vancouver,” Another kiss. “With you.” The final kiss lasted longer than the first several, but there was no heat behind it. The kiss was more about just being there for each other, conveying without saying anything how you felt for each other. “As long as you say you love me back.”

“Oh, you’re stuck with me now.”

#brock boeser #brock boeser imagine #brock boeser x reader #brock boeser fic #vancouver canucks #vancouver canucks imagine #vancouver canucks x reader #hockey x reader #hockey imagine #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #12 days fics