#i wish i knew the names of those fuckers to name them in my next suicide note as the ones that make the world a harder place to live in for

[houseofceline]

My Pretty Girl - T.N.

Foreign Touches and Breakfast in Bed

Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott

Warnings: Asshole Theo?

Summary: You wish you never woke up.

Author's Note: Hey guys! It's been a while, sorry for the wait but here it is!

< 6

__________________

“How much did you even drink last night?” Cho cringed holding your hair back as another round of vomit spewed out of you and into the toilet. You could feel your head pounding as you sat on the bathroom floor trying to calm yourself down. Waking up to a hangover and your period may be the worst combination known to man, or really women. Thankfully there were no classes today. 

“Too much,” you breathed in and out, making sure there was nothing else coming up. 

“Come on, we need to go to breakfast, you need to eat something.” Cho tried helping you up as you gripped onto the sink for support. 

You were not ready to go out in public like this. Bed hair, snippets of last night makeup look in the form of smothered mascara on your cheek, and a million knives stabbing your uterus. Definitely not a pretty sight. Plus, you did not want to see any of the boys after last night incase of something embarrassing you might’ve done while out of it. 

“I don’t wanna go,” you groaned as you flopped on your bed and curled up into a fetal position. 

“You have to eat something Y/n,” Cho spoke softly as she ran her fingers through your hair, trying to flatten it. 

“I’ll eat later.” You grumbled closing your eyes, menstruation already tiring you out. 

“I’ll be back,” Cho said as she left the room, but you were too tired to say anything as you slipped away to dreamland.

___________________

A foreign touch on his chest causes Theo to stir awake in confusion. 

What the hell.

He blinked a few times, allowing his vision to clear up.

Seeing the fake blonde from last night he groaned. 

“Why are you still here?” He mumbled, swatting her hand away from him as he scooted further away from her. 

“What do you mean baby? We don’t have classes today silly,” Hannah replied as she sat up, still nude from late night activities. 

“Right, so the last thing I want on a free day is to see your face. Get out.” Theo mumbled hoping she’d leave so he could sleep so more.

“Theo baby, don’t be so mean,” she spoke, reaching out for him again causing Theo to sit up in a huff. 

“You know the deal, you were supposed to be out before I even woke up,” he ignored the nasty feeling of her calling him cringey pet names. 

“Theo we don’t have to be like this.”

“My name is Theodore,” he stated as he got up and got dressed. 

He sighed as he picked up her clothing items off the floor and threw them at her. 

“I’m leaving since you won’t. But I advise you to wake up before Malfoy does, you know he doesn’t like you.” Theo said as he walked out, ignoring the gasps of surprise when her bra landed in her face. 

What an annoying girl. 

He walked to the Great Hall, deciding that he might as well grab breakfast since he was awake. 

“Did you fuckers seriously eat all the sausages?” Theo scoffed as he took a seat in front of Mattheo. 

“What the fuck did you want me to eat? Those nasty ass muffins?” Blaise replied as he passed a goblet of orange juice to him. 

“HEY! They’re not nasty,” Lorenzo spoke up with crumbs falling out of his mouth. 

“Buddy you’re getting it all over me,” Mattheo shoved the boy next to him with a scoff before glancing over at Theo. 

“Fun night huh?” Mattheo raised a glass towards the bruise-like mark on Theo’s neck. 

“Fuck are you serious?” Theo groaned as he rubbed the side of his neck. 

“I knew I’d regret it, she’s been so possessive lately,” Theo rolled his eyes as he continued eating breakfast. 

“Well I mean you’re always going back to her, maybe she thinks something will happen between the two of you,” Mattheo responded while Theo laughed in response. 

“She’s a Hufflepuff, you know only Slytherin girls are worth dating.” 

Mattheo frowned as Lorenzo looked up from his breakfast.

The whole table fell silent as Lorenzo finished chewing his muffin, “Y/n’s a Ravenclaw. I don’t think she lacks anything compared to Slytherin girls.” 

“Yeah in fact I think she looked better than any Slytherin girl last night,” Mattheo mumbled, causing Theo to look up in surprise. 

“She was there?” He gaped, suddenly feeling like he was going to throw up. 

Lorenzo rolled his eyes knowing that Theo had no right to even care if she was there or not. Mattheo and him had begun to care for the girl as if she was their baby sister and at first they were rooting for Theo, but now they weren’t so sure anymore. They had thought that she could be the one to make Theo better. After all it was him who had shown interest first, it was him who had begun to change because of her. She was the first girl Theo had ever described without using compliments that didn’t mean anything. Never spoke about how hot her body was instead ranted to the two boys about how angelic her face looked while she studied and how she smelled like flowers and vanilla. Not only cared about what was on the outside but on the inside as well, bragging to the boys about how talented she was and how cool her nail designs were. That is the same boy who had his eyes set on someone else last night, and the thought of it even made Lorenzo want to either cry or punch him. 

“Yeah but don’t worry, she didn’t need your company,” Lorenzo scoffed as he continued to eat his breakfast again. 

Lorenzo isn’t the type of person to show any resentment or hold any grudges, so Theo definitely knew he might’ve messed up. 

But before Theo could say anything, a familiar face approached up behind Mattheo and Lorenzo. 

Following Theo’s gaze the two boys turned around and greeted the girl. 

“Chang! What’s up?” Lorenzo greeted happily, a complete 180 switch in tone. 

“Hey boys, I’m grabbing breakfast for Y/n since she doesn’t feel well and I thought seeing your faces would cheer her up,” Cho explained as she showed them her plate of chocolate chip muffins. 

Theo furrowed his eyebrows, “Is she okay? Is she sick?” 

Cho rolled her eyes at the boy who caused her best friend to come back to the dorms sobbing her eyes out. She didn’t even know Theo that well but as she watched Y/n clutch her heart as she cried in her arms, she felt as if the boy had broken her heart as well. 

“She's fine as if it’s any of your concern,” Cho brushed Theo’s questions away as she avoided any eye contact with him. 

Lorenzo and Mattheo didn’t bother coming to his defense but instead got up and grabbed some juice and fruit before following Cho. 

Theo looked down at his plate and suddenly didn’t feel very hungry anymore. Blaise sighed before patting his mate’s back in comfort while Theo pushed his food around. 

Maybe he deserved that. 

#theodore nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #draco malfoy x reader #hogwarts oc #hogwarts au #harry potter #slytherin #ravenclaw #slytherin boys #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #theodore nott #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #hp fandom #hp fanfic

[witef]

I hate myself sm, i’m not even human wtf how am i expected to live in this world😔

#Apparently my university considers that the death of the creature i was taking care of for which i blamed myslef #for which i’ve been crying over non stop and couldn’t get out of bed for days #for which i tried to smother myself is ‘not something that affected’ my ability to make a deadline. #3 days after it happened. Hence they’re declining my late submission claim hence i’m not getting my diploma🤡🤡🤡 #i wish i knew the names of those fuckers to name them in my next suicide note as the ones that make the world a harder place to live in for #people like me #mentally ill but poor so no access to the doctor the next day to attach ‘proof’ #tw suicide

[fallinforerling]

may i request (from the prompt phrases) 2 - 8 - 17 with erling 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

the shirt dilemma - eh

A/N: As I usually say: ERLING BRAINROT. I can’t stop writing for this man, I’m ABSOLUTELY in love with him. Thank you SO MUCH!!! for 800 followers. Feedback is always appreciated! Love you always xx

ೃ⁀➷ erling’s taglist 

 ೃ⁀➷ erling’s masterlist

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

 : ̗̀➛ requested phrases: 

2. “i'll never wear the jersey of someone who isn't my boyfriend.”

8. “why are you staring at me like that?”

17. “you have a really pretty face, have you ever heard that?”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“I can’t believe people actually waste their time plotting about this stuff…” You murmured more to yourself than anyone else in the room, still scrolling through the infinite amount of photos that you found on Twitter. “Kinda creepy…” 

“What’s up?” Jack murmured back, kicking your leg with his foot. You raised an eyebrow in his direction. “C’mon, you just said something that implies tea. Now you have to spill it.” 

“I don’t have to do shit, Grealish.” You laughed, kicking him back. “But okay, here.” You sat on the couch. “I was on Twitter, and I found some tweets with my name on it, which is kinda weird since I’m not a public figure so… I don’t know, I was digging on my own shit until…” You turned your phone so he could see it. 

His eyebrows raised until they almost touched the base of his hair, giving you a full view of the funniest expression you’d ever seen on him since ever. 

“That’s an interesting take.” 

“¿De qué hablan?” (What are you guys talking about?”) Julián asked, entering the room with hands full of snacks. 

“Nada.” (Nothing) You really hated Julián’s impecable hearing. He was always around the corner when you were gossiping with Jack. “Más bien dame comida, que me tuviste esperando como mil años. Me muero de hambre.” (Give me some food, you’ve got me waiting for like a thousand years. I’m starving) 

“Luego no me pidas que te cuente algo, porque te vas a quedar con las ganas.” (Later, don’t ask me for any gossip, cause I won’t share any) He replied, throwing a bag of chips at you. 

“I actually love when you two speak Spanish in front of me and I understand absolutely nothing.” Jack said after you grabbed the bag, not paying attention to the dirty look Julián gave you before sitting next to him. “Makes me feel like I’m back in Spain for some vacation.” 

“I just love when she speaks Spanish.” Erling’s voice startled you. You looked up at him, who was just entering the room. You tore your eyes apart from his figure as quickly as you could, wishing that the heart eyes weren’t that noticeable for any of them. God, he was so handsome. 

“You love everything that she does.” Julián said, giggling a bit when you shot him a nasty look. That little fucker. 

“True, you’re the biggest fanboy I’ve ever seen in my life.” Jack teased, nudging Erling’s arm when he sat next to you. 

“What can I say? I’m a man with great taste.” Erling shot back, leaving you all shaky on the inside. You had to prevent your mouth from falling wide open. You could never get used to that type of compliments coming from him.

It was times like these when you wondered if Erling had any feelings for you. It would be awesome if he did. But you knew it couldn’t be possible; he was playing and teasing around. You were just friends.

“If you’re going to flirt with her, I’m leaving.” Jack said, openly enjoying how uncomfortable you were getting from all the attention. “But also? We could manage to see if we can get this little brat to come to the next game, eh?” 

“No, no! Don’t start with that. I already said no a million times before.” You were tired of it. You knew, from past experience, that you would be recognized, and those stupid gossip sites would eat you up. 

“C’mon, don’t be such a… coward.” Julián replied, always up to teasing you as well. “It’s fun, you should totally go. Emilia’s gonna be there.” 

“But…” 

“No, no, not ‘but’. You’re coming, end of discussion.” Erling cut you off, smiling widely when you looked at him. “Please?” 

Aw, man. Fuck big blonde guys with green eyes. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

So there you were, two days later. Full of regrets and suffering, seeing how your friends (or more like enemies at this point) were smiling like little kids while you stood in the middle of the Etihad Stadium shop. Your arms were crossed, not wanting to give in two times in a row when it came to these guys’ wishes, but it was getting more and more difficult as the minutes passed and Erling’s eyes kept flashing you little looks that were keeping you on the edge. 

“Why?” You finally spoke up, giving in to the silence that had overcome the room. “I’ve already accepted to come against my will. Why do I have to wear a jersey as well?” 

“Because! Everyone that really loves the team wears a shirt!” Jack said, giving you a knowing look that screamed duh. “You’re our friend, it would be so rude if you just go there wearing…” He pointed to your baby blue shirt with a grin. “That.” 

“What’s the matter with it? It’s City’s color, isn’t it?” 

“C’mon, you’re not actually doing the most out here wearing a blue shirt, darling.” Erling’s voice had an effect on you. Dammit. “Be a good girl and wear a jersey.”

No, no, no. Don’t fall for it just because he called you a… Oh, god. God, help your daughter. 

“Fine!” As usual, you just gave in once Erling stepped in. “Pick a stupid shirt so I can get out of here.” 

You were hoping that you were being dramatic over nothing and that they’d probably pick a blank shirt with no actual handle on the back, but as Erling approached his own fucking section, you knew you were absolutely fucked. 

“No! Not your stupid ego getting the best of you, I’m not wearing a Haaland shirt!” You wanted to. But it was the worst idea in the world. “I’ll never wear the jersey of someone who isn’t my boyfriend. That’s just a horrible idea.” You didn’t know why you just said that, but it was out there before you could backtrack on your words. 

“Why not?” Jack asked, getting closer to you with that cheeky grin that you hated. “What’s wrong with wearing a friend’s jersey just for today? It isn’t good enough?” 

Oh, you knew what he wanted to say with that little tone on the word “friend”. 

“Because, my dear Jack. People love to speculate about things without actual proof. So, if they see me wearing Erling’s shirt while being here, they’ll think I’m his girlfriend, and…” 

“So what?” Erling said, already handing you a shirt. “Let people assume whatever they want to assume.” 

“Perhaps, would it be that bad if people think that you are his girlfriend?” It was the first time in twenty minutes that Julián had said a word, but when he did, he cornered you. “Just saying…”

“Yeah, would it?” Erling’s tone sounded almost evil as he slightly pressed the shirt towards you, leaving you no other option but to take it. “Just put it on.” 

“I hate you…” You whispered, still grabbing the shirt with a bit more force than necessary. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You felt like everyone’s eyes were on you for the entirety of the game, which was ridiculous since you were the most boring person and no one— and when you said no one, it was really no one— was giving you a second look as you sat and watched the game like everyone else did. 

The paranoia you were feeling was ridiculous. Never in a million years have you felt more targeted for wearing a fucking shirt that said Haaland on the back. You could only pray that a photo of you didn’t make it to Twitter, where a bunch of weird people were already making assumptions about the actual nature of your relationship with Erling. That’s why you were being so negative about wearing anything City or Erling related. You knew how the rumors started.

Like it would ever happen in reality. 

“Relájate, boluda. Parece que estás acá contra tu voluntad.” (Girl, relax. You look like you’re here against your will) Emilia shouted over the fans’ voices, seeming entertained by your current state. Just like her boyfriend, apparently. 

“¿Te parece?” (You think?) You couldn’t help the sarcastic tone in your voice. “Todo gracias al pendejo de tu novio.” (All thanks to your stupid boyfriend) 

“Ay, ya. No es para tanto…” (Aw, c’mon. It’s not that big of a deal…) She paused, giggling. “Estás así porque te gusta Erling, ¿no?” (You’re acting like this because you like Erling, aren’t you?) 

“¡¿Qué?!” (What?!) You shouted, feeling your face go deep red as the referee blew the final whistle, letting the entire stadium know that the game was over. 

“It’s so obvious, babe. You totally like that man.” She took your hand, not letting you overcome the fact that someone finally acknowledged your feelings for him. “Let’s go.” 

“Where?” Was all you managed to say, looking around to check if someone was paying attention to you. Again. 

“The dressing room.” 

Oh-oh. 

Your eyes darted to the pitch, where most of the players were still walking around while exchanging greetings and jerseys. You spotted Erling right away; it was very difficult not to. He towered over almost every single person that walked past him, which could be funny if it weren’t for the fact that Emilie knew about your feelings for him. Suddenly, it felt so real. It felt like everyone knew. 

“Move or I’ll have to drag you there myself.” Emilia’s tone gave the impression of being absolutely serious about the dragging part, so you started walking out of pure instinct. 

You made your way across the sea of people that were leaving or lingering around the benches. You saw how it all appeared to move a bit slower as you followed her, who still had a hold on your wrist, like she was almost preventing you from escaping. You didn’t want to see Erling right now; the way you were so worked up about Emilia’s words was stupid, but you knew yourself, and it was very possible that you were about to blow everything because of the nerves. 

“Breathe. You’re crushing my hand.” 

“Is it too obvious?” You whispered once you made it to the tunnels. 

“That you like him?” She turned to face you, smiling a bit before fixing your hair. “Not to him, I believe.” Her eyes looked behind you, a bigger smile appeared on her face. “But maybe it’s time to let you know that he likes you. Gotta go, Juli’s coming. Good luck.” She kissed your cheek briefly before walking away, leaving you nervous and shaky. 

It seemed like being nervous and shaky was the new thing for you. 

“What happened to the “no wearing a shirt that’s not my boyfriend's” rule?” You could feel Erling’s hands pinching the fabric of your new shirt before you turned around to face him. His voice was filled with that unique tone he only used when he won, or got his way around something he wanted. Today, both things happened. “Looks great on you, by the way.” 

“You made me wear it, loser.” The only way to dissimulate the silent screaming you wanted to do right now was to answer with irony.

“And it’s the best decision I’ve made so far.” He stood in front of you in all his glory, clearly enjoying how pissed you were. You couldn’t help your eyes from going to his bare chest for a whole minute, biting your lip when your eyes met his. His smirk was so big, you wanted to punch him. “About to make the second one.”

So, so handsome. And so, so cocky.

“What? Why are you staring at me like that?” Was all you managed to say after a few seconds of pure silence, despite all the teammates roaming through the tunnel, clapping and screaming from their recent win. 

“You have a really pretty face; have you ever heard that?” He leaned in, and your heart almost escaped through your throat. You couldn’t tear your eyes apart from his. 

What if Emilia was right? Was this the right moment? He was totally flirting with you… Wasn’t he?

“I…” 

“What about this? You wait here, looking as lovely as you do right now until I shower… And then I can take you to dinner so we can celebrate the win?” He whispered the proposition like it was a promise. At this point, you couldn’t even speak. “How does that sound?” 

“Yeah, sure…” You whispered back, holding your bag so close to your chest that you could feel the handles burying themselves in your skin. 

“Perfect.” Then he kissed your cheek, and you really stopped breathing for a few milliseconds. And as you were starting to have a little panic attack, he left.

Have you just… agreed to a date with Erling Haaland? Well, fuck.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ * ERLING’S TAGLIST @questionable-behaviour | @koufaxx | @xjval | @nikki01234 | @evarasworld | @kynykyny | @alleyahah | @444pantheress | @football4life9 | @f1lover55 | @frankcastleonlyfans | @ironmaiden1313 | @pizzapie349

#erling haaland #footballer blurb #footballer fanfiction #footballer fic #footballer fics #footballfics #erling haaland x reader #erling x reader #erling håland #haaland #erling haaland x you #erling x you #eh9 #erling haaland fluff #erling haaland one shot #erling haaland oneshot #erling haaland imagine #erling haaland fic #erling haaland fanfic #footballer x reader #footballer fanfic #football fanfic #football fic #haaland x reader #haaland x you #haaland x y/n #erling x y/n #erling haaland x y/n

[beanibon]

GIVE ME A READER WHO KNIVES IS TEACHING HOW TO PLAY PIANO AND HE FUCKS THE READER WHILE THEY PLAY AND PUNISHES THEM IF THEY MESS UP PLEASE POOKIE

-@millionsvash

Lesson Number One

TW: Smut, potential dubcon, porn w/o plot, cock warming, orgasm denial, p in v, degradation and praise, choking, slight nipple play, rough sex.

Your mouth felt dry, hot and clammy as delicate fingers grazed your vulnerable throat. With your body shaking, quivering with embarrassment and pleasure, your mind could not focus on which note was next.

Resulting in your fifth mistake.

A disapproved sigh sounded behind you, saliva forced down with a harsh swallow, one that felt as if you had a stone in your throat. You awaited nervously for your punishment, whimpers of excitement and fear escaping you.

"You humans are useless, how many times must I correct you? This isn't rocket science, nor something vastly more difficult, it's as if you wish to suffer by my hand." Knives grumbled, those once gentle fingers squeezing the air from your lungs.

Eyes rolled deep into your skull, you gasped, drool sliding from the corners of your lips. The walls of your cunt convulsed, a growl of restraint echoing around the disturbing room of sanctum, his cock twitching within you.

"Filthy slut, to think death turns you on." Knives surged forward, smirking as you unceremoniously faceplanted against the keys. A hideous melody played out, an idea popped into the Independent's mind.

Flipping your bare body over, forcing you to look into those beautiful, deadly eyes. Knives pressed you painfully into his most precious possession, the keys singing a horrid tune. It would've made your ears hurt, if Knives crazed look of lust, anger and disgust didn't make you squirm uncomfortably.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure you'll never forget a single key again. I'll fuck it so deep in that human brain of yours until it's engraved in it!"

Before you could even protest, your cries mixed with the slamming of piano keys, filling the room. Anyone passing by would instantly know of the vile sins their Master and his pet were committing. After all, why would he ever purposely make such awful music?

There was no silencing your cries either. No, Knives liked to hear you scream his name, let everyone know that you're his filthy, whorish pet.

Fingers pinched and pulled at your swelling nipples, causing your legs to kick out. Never was he gentle, always being cruel to the point you wept in painful pleasure.

With each thrust, hips colliding with your pelvis, that piano spewed out its awful melody. And the more Knives heard, the more he wanted you ruined against it.

"What's the matter? Is my mutt getting close?" As you nodded, unable to form a proper sentence, Knives chuckled. "Good."

All movement ceased, Knives roughly flipping you, cock still buried to the hilt inside your dripping cunt. Slamming your face against the keys, his crazed eyes stared expectedly at you.

"Well? Aren't you going to play?" He cooed mockingly, fists full of your hair.

You couldn't believe it. Eyes wide with disbelief that Knives expected you to play, a song you struggled with in a sound mind, not close to drenching his cock in your orgasmic juices. Yet when slammed against the keys once more, nose aching from the impact, you knew he wasn't playing around.

Mind clouded, vision foggy from the euphoria of your cunt being ruined, you began to shakily play out the song Knives so dutifully began teaching you. Such a generous soul he was, allowing a mere human to touch the gorgeous piano he adored. You tried to be thankful for the opportunity, but in this exact moment, it proved to be quite difficult.

As it approached the part you often screwed up, Knives attempted to shove his cock in further, purposely. The fucker wanted you to screw up, to punish you.

So you could imagine his disappointment when you succeeded in remembering the notes.

With a deep, disappointed frown, Knives huffed. Slamming his cock into you, feeling as you came instantly from the sudden action, legs quivering as your juices coated his inhuman member.

Pulling out, watching as his cum dribbled down you quivering legs, Knives began walking towards the doors. No after-care. You were use to it, thankful that each day pleasing him was a day you lived.

"I suppose you did well, some congratulations are in order. However," Knives looked over his shoulder, watching as you leant against the front of his piano. "I would've preferred if you failed. That way, you'd be stuffed and bred for your mistakes."

You swallowed, feeling your core ache and moisten from those words alone. If you had've just played the wrong note, that tight pussy would be stuffed for hours until you were fat with Knives child.

"Oh well, there is always next time you fail to complete a simple task." With that, your tormentor left.

Leaving you. All alone, wishing you just screwed up to have him fuck you until the next morning.

A/N: HI GUYS! Hope you enjoyed my lil smutfic, the first one since I'm back. Feel free to give any feedback, and remember my requests are open!

Love you guys heaps!

#trigun stampede #trigun #trigun x reader #trigun smut #millions knives x reader #knives smut #knives x reader #knives millions #millions knives #million knives x reader #millions knives smut #millions knives x you #trigun knives #nai x reader #beanibon asks

[sunny-mercya]

False Brother

Heiji Hattori x Male Reader

Fandom -> Detective Conan/Case Closed

Masterlist

»What do you mean, he isn't Shinichi?«

The question you spoke with a whispering volume in your voice, filled with doubt and hesitation, hung above through the upcoming silence like a loose threat—ready to fall and causing havoc disaster.

Without really noticing it, the three Soda cans of cold Cola—which you had eagerly volunteered to get for your brother, Heiji and yourself as a form of thank you treatment for the hard work they had done these past few days of solving yet another crime and bringing justice once again—slipped from your hands, which had now a visible shake in them—and onto the ground below with a thud, rolling away.

Heiji captured his lower lip between his teeth's, gnawing at skin in slight anxiousness. Observing you, Heiji raced his mind of ways to distract you—bringing you away from the scene, from something of a sort of false truth you wished, longed, to be true again—and calm you down before your anger could rise.

You rarely got angry as you're a more peaceful person with sincere attitude of positive and genuine love energy. Only a handful, be it people or things, could make your fuse go into an explosion.

Though when you got angry, when the fuse start to spark and make the anger bubbling inside you—till it bursts into flames of fury—oh lord, than you weren't a pleasant person to be around.

»Are you telling me, that he–he isn't–isn't.....Shin–Shini......« your voice faltered, died out in uncertainty of unbelievable.

Heiji knew—from the way you first narrowed your eyes at Okuda, the person who fooled you into thinking that he was your dear brother—who disappeared once without a word and now reappears again—how your hands are clenched into fists, so hard that your knuckles turned white and how your narrowed stare turned into a angry sneer—that your about to strike Okuda down with every possibility of your strength in Qing Mado. After all, you weren't in the top 5 of ranks for nothing.

Heiji was able to catch you when you leapt forward with a raised fist. Okuda did a fearful step back.

»This fucker! I will smash him into the ground! He had now fucking right to imposante as Shinichi! NO RIGHT! I–fucking let me go Heiji or I swear to god I will fucking smash you into the ground too!«

And in the next seconds, you grabbed Heiji's arms and judo flipped him over your shoulder and onto the ground. Leaving him breathless for a moment.

While Heiji regained his breath, he glanced towards Ran and Shinichi—the actual one, who tried his best to take cover behind Ran—and Heiji, for once, felt absolutely angry at his best friend—who couldn't dare to give you one fucking simple call, because if he had it wouldn't be like this today.

You had charged at the false Shinichi, punching him across the face and pummel him into the ground. Sitting on top of him, you grabbed his shirt collar and shook him anger.

They all watched in shock how you, the oh so sweet and kind [Name] they all knew, shouted threatening profanity at Okuda—and how you gave him a punch after another, letting your fury completely free.

The audacity—you sneered in visibly barging anger—to imposante as your brother, is something unforgivable to do and wouldn't be forgiven, not when you waited all those damned months—almost a year had passed—without any news, signs and calls from Shinichi.

»HOW DARE YOU TO IMPOSE AS MY BROTHER AND FRAMING HIM FOR A CRIME, JUST BECAUSE YOU FUCKER COULDN'T ACCEPT THE TRUTH!«

Because how low must be someone's morals, their values of integrity and beliefs, dropping to do such horrendous acts of so called "self-justification"

How desperate someone could become, to impose—undergo surgery even—as another person and commit murder in their name, to make them into a killer and frame them for such inhumane actions.

And that's all because, a truth of justice and evidence couldn't be accepted.

Heiji pulled you off from Okuda, taking every hit from your trashing around in his arms—as you tried to free yourself from his hold, wanting to beat the asshole all bloody more—and brought you to one at the benches, near the vending machines.

~~~

Heiji didn't say anything, when you cried in his arms, knowing well from first hand experience that sometimes silence comforts more than the mere words of actual comforting meaning.

It wasn't the first time you've cried over Shinichi's absence. There had been many nights where you bawled your eyes out, thinking of gruesome possibilities of what could happen to your brother to make him as of what he is now—gone and nothing but a mere fading memory.

But this was different—as you really had thought that Shinichi had finally returned and even when it seemed that your brother had lost his memories—you could live with this as long as he was back—your crumbling hope was rising like a flame, believing naive and dumbly that everything was turning good again.

Though once again it felt too good to be true, because in the end, it was nothing but a fraud—ripping the fragile hope in your broken—but ever so mending—heart apart and leaving behind a mess of piercing pain.

Maybe you should just accept the possibility of reality, that Shinichi perhaps was dead—all along from the day he disappeared to the here and now of present.

Perhaps you also shouldn't have fought for your life back then—when Daiki had kidnapped you and all you wanted was to die as well, having willingly accepted your fate as you hadn't any goal or ounce of hope left in you—but when Conan told you such blatant lie, that Shinichi had called and would be back home soon, you thought—living once more to see Shinichi's smile was enough to keep going against your wishes of death.

»I really–I thought, that–I thought, that it was–was Shinichi.....« you choked out, hiding your face more in Heiji's neck.

»I know, I know, sunshine. C'mon deep breaths, in and out, just like we practiced. Yeah, just like that, ya doing good« whispered Heiji, rubbing your back and praising you when you did the breathing patterns.

If Heiji could, he would've told you in a heartbeat that Shinichi is here and alive—freeing you from the painful pressure of heartache you living through ever since with the loss of your brother—but he couldn't, have promised—vowed—to never tell the secret of who Conan actually is.

The amount of times Heiji had to bite his tongue to not say anything to you—because if you would knew the actual truth, you would cause havoc and unleash a fury at them—and he never felt any remorse guilt about it nor anger about it before, to tell you minimal lies—but now Heiji does and for once he wanted to punch his best friend for being so absolutely stupid.

»Come, Officer Kogawa said she's gonna drive us back to the City and then we could take a nap in our hotelroom and afterwards we can go and have a nice dinner, watcha think, sounds splendid doesn't it?« said Heiji, prepping your face with kisses, before standing up.

You wiped the remaining tears from your eyes, rubbing your face and—besides the upcoming migraine you felt pounding in your head—managed a small smile at Heiji.

»Yeah, that sounds real good« you agreed, leaning against Heiji as he placed his Cap onto your head and slung his arm around you—pulling you close.

For a moment you felt bold; cradling Heiji's face in your hands, pulling him down and gave him the biggest kiss on the cheek.

»Not that I don't appreciate it, but what for sunshine?« asked Heiji, grinning at you—have been taken by surprise with your action.

»No reasons, except for you being the best in my humble life and do you wanna know how much I love you Heiji?«

»How much?«

»Endless, like the universe«

#male reader #x male reader #anime #manga #fanfiction #malereader #oneshot #xmalereader #detective conan/case closed #detective conan #heiji hattori #heiji x male reader #heiji hattori x male reader #fluff #dcmk #case closed

[fific7]

White Wedding Pt 1

Logan Delos x Reader

A/N: Alpha/Omega/Soulmate AU, based on Billy Idol’s song of the same name. This does not follow canon, it’s mainly Logan lemon zest 🍋 because the world always needs more Logan.

Summary: James has agreed to retire, leaving Logan and Juliet in charge of Delos. But there is one major condition attached… will Logan find it to be a deal-breaker?

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral, between consenting adults*. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please use protection, let’s be careful out there.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

(My Photo Edit)

Hey little sister, what have you done

Hey little sister, who's the only one

Hey little sister, who's your superman

Hey little sister, who's the one you want

Hey little sister, shotgun

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan shot up out of his seat.

“Wait, what?!”

His handsome face - unusually - held an expression of horror and disgust. Most times you’d see either a languid smile, a devilish smirk or just plain indifference. But not right now.

He couldn’t believe what his father had just said. Out loud. For the whole board to hear.

James laughed out loud, and even Juliet smirked before quickly looking down.

“You heard, Logan,” he said, still not quite done laughing.

“How come you haven’t asked Juliet to fulfill the same condition? That’s… that’s just complete bullshit.. and favouritism and.. and.. it’s discriminatory!”

The other board members were smirking, Logan just knew they were. He was absolutely furious.

Logan heard Juliet snigger loudly and she looked straight at him, her eyes twinkling. He couldn’t resist flashing her a tiny grin … he was so pleased they were back on good terms now that she’d dumped her asshat of a husband, the charming William.

James, on the other hand… the lingering smile which had remained on his face dropped right off there and he sent one of his glacial looks at Logan.

“Because she’s not a drunken, whoring fucked up junkie, lad! You… on the other hand…” he said, pointing at Logan, his voice rough and his accent sounding broader than usual.

Logan collapsed back into his seat, “Yeah, yeah!… but not any more… rehab, remember?”

His father leaned even further back into his fancy-ass “I’m the Boss” big leather chair at the head of the boardroom table.

“Yes, lucky for you. By god, laddie… you will keep on the straight and narrow, no backsliding!… call this an incentive to keep yourself nice and clean...and well-behaved.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Juliet hurried to keep up with her irate sibling as he stormed across the driveway and into her house. He’d grabbed her house keys from her as she’d been taking them out of her bag, still fuming even though the meeting had been over for at least an hour.

“Lo… will you calm the fuck down!” she yelled at his back as he unlocked and threw open her front door. Luckily she had a doorstop between it and the hall wall, otherwise the door handle would’ve made a big mark there as it headed for the wall at high speed.

“That absolute fucker!” he screeched as he strode into her living area. He swung round suddenly, a guilty look on his face. “Oh… Em’s not here, is she?”

Juliet dropped her large tote onto the ground and quietly closed the door behind her.

“A bit late if she was here!… luckily for you, she’s at the afterschool club with her little buddies.”

Logan helped himself to some of her bourbon, a small measure. He held up the bottle to her and she shook her head, “I’ve gotta pick up Em later.”

He threw himself onto the sofa, and Juliet sat down next to him. He took a big gulp of his drink, “I swear.. I wish I’d been born one of those pussy Betas.”

She laughed, and put her hand on his arm, “Well.. unfortunately for you, you were born a big healthy Alpha male … which you insist on proving at every opportunity.”

“Not recently,” he grumbled, taking a smaller sip. He heaved a big theatrical sigh, “I haven’t had any in fucking forever!”

Juliet knew that his ruts had been erratic recently due to his substance abuse and it had been a blessing in disguise, really. Not that Logan had actually ever needed his ruts to get his groove on. But his counsellor had told him that they would probably return soon and as his session notes were made available to his father, James had decided that before this happened, and as a condition of his imminent retirement whereby he’d hand over control of the company to his two children, Logan would need to get married.

“You’re such a drama queen, Lo,” she laughed. He huffed, “Am I? Am I? Well! How would you like if he’d told you to get married to some fucking Omega within a month?”

“Look… I’ll do what I can to help,” she soothed, “I’ve got a contact at Los Palos Verde.”

Logan turned his head towards her, “What’s that? Some skanky knocking shop for stray Omegas or something?” She lightly slapped his shoulder, “No! It’s a retreat for high-end unclaimed Omegas.”

“Unclaimed?”

“Yes, unclaimed. Whereby they either haven’t met their soulmates yet or don’t even have one, and as highly prized females they’d be in danger if left out in the mainstream.”

Logan ran a hand over his face and up into his lush dark hair, “Fuck! This is so … so fucking… I just can’t believe he’s insisting on this.”

“I’ll make an appointment for you. It’s seriously the best retreat in California. There’s a long waiting list but my contact will get you to the head of the queue. During the appointment, you are allowed to meet and scent some of the residents, and if you feel a strong attraction or bond with any of them, you’re allowed to briefly sample them in a controlled environment.”

“Scent them? Sample them? What the fuck… you mean like a fucking tasting menu in some fancy restaurant?” and he laughed for the first time in a while.

Juliet’s face pinked up, “I’m not going into details, Lo… you’ll find out when you get there.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Los Palos Verde

You carefully placed your book on the little table next to your plush, comfortable chair and sat back, looking out over the vista of pine trees and palms which surrounded the enclave.

This place usually made you feel calm. Whilst it was a pretty solitary existence - there was limited social interaction between the Omegas as the Betas who ran it said that there was potential scent-mixing - there was a tranquil vibe which you adored and required. But you were troubled today.

The longer you’d existed in the mainstream without meeting your soulmate the more dangerous life had become for you. There had been a spate of Omega kidnappings by rogue Alphas who had basically placed them into brothel/baby farms where they were just basically used and used and used, forevermore.

You had no family left in the US, and the European branch had been singularly uninterested in taking you in due to some long-ago but never forgotten family dispute. When your grandmother had died five years ago - she’d outlived her children - you’d been very surprised to learn that she’d left you a substantial legacy. You were surprised because she’d always refused to ever meet you. Your father, her middle son, had got his college girlfriend pregnant and you were the outcome. Your parents had never married but co-habited, and your grandmother had been outraged by that and also because both your parents had also dropped out of college and schlepped round California in a neo-hippy kind of lifestyle.

You had been identified as a Platinum Omega very early in your life. You actually had wished over and over that you weren’t, but what choice did you have? It meant that you were the very top notch of Omegas - the most beautiful, the most fertile when you needed to be and therefore highly prized by Alphas. When it became obvious a couple of years ago that remaining in the mainstream could potentially be very dangerous for you, you’d sold your condo and along with your inheritance had had enough to buy yourself a place at Los Palos Verde for 10 years. It meant that you were safe from any kidnap attempts and the humiliation of having to take a place in one of the government-sponsored Omega Centres, which were basically just brothels by any other name, where single Alphas could go to scratch an itch or during a rut.

At the end of the 10 years, you’d review the security in the mainstream and see what your options were at that point. Some of your inheritance was in an interest-bearing Savings Bond so you weren’t exactly penniless, thankfully. Meanwhile, your stay at Los Palos Verde was all-inclusive … and also included an inhibitor for your monthly heat cycle. You were determined that you would not get pregnant until you met your Alpha soulmate. You frowned… huh… if you met your soulmate, you should say. You were beginning to think it’d never happen, and also you knew that being in the retreat limited your chances of meeting him. But if you were out in the mainstream, although you might meet your soulmate, you could just as easily get yourself human-trafficked. That was your delightful Catch-22 situation and you just had to deal with it.

And also hence the reason for your troubled mind. As part of the contract you had to sign when you took up residence here, there was a clause which you hadn’t anticipated and weren’t exactly thrilled about either. The Betas who ran the place reserved the right to put any Platinum Omegas forward should any of their VIP Alphas request a meeting. You had to agree to be scented and sampled by them if requested. You’d strongly protested but basically if you didn’t agree to it, you would not be accepted into LPV. So with a heavy heart, you’d signed your acceptance of all their T&C’s.

However since you’d been here, you’d never been approached by them about the weird-sounding scenting and sampling thing. So you’d kinda forgotten all about it. Until yesterday. One of the Betas had messaged you on the internal system and advised that you would be required to present yourself at 2 pm in two days’ time for scenting. You were instructed not to take your inhibitor, not to use perfume or deodorant, and to wear a camisole top with no bra and yoga pants with no underwear. You’d messaged back and asked why, and had received a terse reply that as per your contract, you had agreed to this and therefore you would prepare yourself without argument.

Now what in holy hell was this all about?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Your apartment door buzzer rang at 1.45 pm the day later, and a Beta female you hadn’t seen before asked you to accompany her to the ‘Scenting Suite”, whatever the fuck that was, you thought grumpily.

This ‘Suite’ was a luxurious, calm space with long, low futon-like beds spaced out around the room. The floor-to-ceiling windows allowed green-shadowed sunlight to spill in, muted by gauzy curtains.

Your hair was tied back, and you were asked to lie down on one of the futons and then covered head to toe by the light cotton sheet so that you were unable to see anything any longer. There was no one else in the Suite when you entered, but then you heard another and then another set of footsteps, and the rustling of sheets nearby. So… three of you involved, then. The Beta’s voice said in a low tone next to your ear, “We will uncover a small area and The Alpha will place his nose on your neck. Please do not recoil or react, just lie still. If he wishes to, he will move his nose over your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder, and you will allow this.”

A few moments later, you heard the Suite door open and a low murmuring of voices. Then a louder, deeper voice, “So whadda I do, exactly?” He sounded almost sulky. More low murmurs, and his voice again, “Really? Ah, okay then.” Yeah, definitely sulky.

They must’ve begun with one of the others, you thought as no one approached you yet. Another few moments went by without any action around your futon. Then you heard footsteps which seemed to be heading your way. You heard the same Beta female voice who’d spoken to you earlier say, “And this… this is our Platinum Omega.” You heard a small snort, “What? Like.. same as a damn Ferrari or something?” Your lips involuntarily curved into a smile, thinking to yourself… cheeky bastard. Then you got mad, as you suddenly realised that that was exactly what it sounded like.. as if you were an inanimate object in a car showroom. Were they…. they sounded like they were trying to sell you to this guy??

You felt light fingers pull aside the sheet on the right side of your neck, but as the rest of the sheet was underneath your head, that was all that was revealed. You still couldn’t see a damn thing.

Then you felt a warm nose against your skin and you felt him huff in a breath. You were also able to smell him… spicy, musky, with an indescribable hint of the man himself mixed in there. His nose suddenly travelled up behind your ear then back down, further down than he’d been before, and across your shoulder to your collarbone, pushing aside the sheet as he went. If he kept on at this rate, who knows what he’d end up revealing. His nose kept travelling across your skin, back and forth, back and forth. You heard the Beta voice, “Please! Mr .. uhh… sir… the scenting is over now.”

He’d buried his nose in your hairline at the nape of your neck by this time, and he moved away. You heard a quiet, “Damn!”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan stood up, reluctantly. Well goddamn, he hadn’t expected that visceral reaction from himself. He looked down at the figure on the futon. Obviously he couldn’t see much except a vague outline, as the sheet covered her completely.

Juliet had been as good as her word and got him an appointment today at this weird place, in amongst the pines and palms. If he hadn’t received a voicemail full of curses and threats from his father yesterday he probably wouldn’t have bothered driving up here. Then when he walked into their ‘Scenting Suite’ or whatever the fuck they called it, he’d been disturbed to see three prone figures on futons, covered by white sheets - they looked like they were extras in The Mummy Returns or something. Creepy as fuck. He didn’t like this whole circus one tiny fucking bit.

The first two Mummies he’d been led over to… well, yeah.. they smelled ok. Like women. You know, how women smell. Nice. OK, yeah. What was he doing here again??

Then the third Mummy. The snippy-looking Beta had reverently informed him that this was their Platinum Omega. Like she was a fucking car model or something. What was a fucking Platinum Omega anyway?

Then his nose had hit her skin. Fuck! Her scent suddenly hit his receptors like a tsunami. Rolling relentlessly over him. What was it? Musky, sweet… sex. His nose started roaming of its own accord over her neck, shoulders, collarbone, constantly scenting… and the snippy Beta had stepped closer to him, telling him it was over. He’d immediately glared at her, the Fuck Off in his glance very apparent. But then he’d remembered where he was and what he was doing and had stood up.

The Beta indicated that he should leave the Suite, which he did.. glancing back just the once at Ms Mysterious Platinum Omega. Once outside, he asked the snippy Beta what exactly that meant.

The thin lips curved up a fraction, “Why Mr Delos, that means that you have the Empress of the Omegas right there, the elite of the elite, the crème de la crème.” She regarded him coolly, “I guess she is the one you’d like to sample?”

“I don’t know what sampling actually means but whatever it is, yes… you guess correctly.”

“Sampling means you are able to use your tongue. Between her legs.”

Logan’s mouth dropped open as he stared at the Beta, speechless. Suddenly he felt the first stirrings of interest below decks for months.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Your sheet was replaced over your neck and shoulders, and a few moments later you heard more than one set of footsteps shuffling past and leaving the Suite. You were about to sit up and pull down the sheet when a hand restrained you, and none too gently either.

“You will remain.”

Where was the Please in that statement then? You huffed, “No. I want to go now, please. Everyone else seems to have.”

“Yes, they have. But you have been chosen to be sampled, so you will remain.”

“Look, just what the hell is this sampling you keep talking about?”

“Nothing unpleasant. You will find out shortly.”

“I want to know now!” you insisted, and you heard an exasperated sigh above you.

“In a few moments.”

The Beta’s hands loosened the sheet next to your right arm; there was a quick sharp scratch there and in a very short space of time you could feel yourself becoming drowsy. So very drowsy. You could feel restraints being snapped round each of your wrists at the side of the futon. “Hey! What the fuck…!” you yelled, starting to pull against them.

You were aware of the sheet being folded back over your legs up to your lower abdomen, your yoga pants were removed and then a second sheet was draped over your legs at mid-thigh. Ankle restraints were snapped into place. You tried to scream or fight or say something, but by now… while you were still fully conscious… you were unable to function otherwise. What were these crazy fuckers pulling on you? Had you been kidnapped or trafficked after all?

You heard the door of the Suite open again and two sets of footsteps approached. You heard a Beta say, “You have 15 minutes,” and the guy’s deep voice answering “Uh-huh, okay.” “You remember what you were told you can do?” “Uh-huh.” “So to be crystal clear, nothing else can or should be attempted.” “Yup.. got it.”

Two sets of footsteps left the Suite, and warm hands placed themselves where your thighs were bare. You felt stubble between your legs and a hot, wet tongue licked you before plunging right inside you, which caused your hips to leap up off the futon. You hardly had the energy to moan. He began lapping at you, alternating between thrusting his tongue inside you and firmly licking your clit. You could feel what he was doing to your body; this was obviously why they’d told you not to take your inhibitor, so you’d react appreciatively to him.

You felt him lift his head from between your legs.

“Ohhh, angel,” you him say heard, “today just got soooo much better.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@obscurilicious @paracosmenthusiast

#ben barnes #logan delos #logan delos x reader #logan delos fan fiction #logan delos fanfic #logan delos westworld #logan delos deserved better

[yourimagines]

Nate x reader someone's messes with her on like the city bus Nate tells the guy to pretty much fuck off they fall in love lol thanks🖤

Hope it’s good enough, also have a happy New Year and all the best wishes for 2024 🥂

Strangers

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Triggers: Swearing, little bit of angst, violence and fluff

Y/N POV

It was raining as I quickly run to the bus stop. There was a group of guys waiting, laughing and stuff as they stood under the glass roof from the bus stop. ‘Great, they don’t look very nice.’ I stopped and waisted for the bus in the rain, an other guy stood close by, he was wearing a black hoodie, a black cap and he had his hands tucked in his hoodie. “We don’t bite babe.” One of those lousy guys said to me while laughing. ‘Don’t react to them.’ I tucked my hands away in my jacket and the good looking guy was looking at them. “Motherfuckers.” He mumbled as he briefly looked at me. I immediately looked away, looking at the road, waiting for the bus to arrive.

Nate POV

Those fuckers were laughing, cat calling her as she moved a bit away from them. She looks so innocent with her rosy cheeks from the cold, her plump lips, slightly shivering and her jacket that was completely wet as she had her hood up, protecting her hair. The bus stopped and I walked up, letting her go first as those freaks stood behind me. She gave me a small smile and gets in. ‘Her smile is beautiful.’ I followed her, sitting next to her as those guys sat on the other row, still whistling at her. “Can you stop?” I turned my upper body a bit to face them. “Who us? Nah how can you stop for a woman like that.” She looked away, looking outside at the road. I took my cap off and went with my hand over my head, clearly starting to loose my patience. “I’m not going to ask you again, leave her the fuck alone.” One of the guys laughed. “What are you going to do about it tuff guy.” I shook my head. “Unbelievable.” I mumbled. “I wouldn’t dare to fight him tho, he’s Nate Diaz.” A younger guy in front of them said that with a smile on his face. They all looked at me, taking a good look. One of them awkwardly smiled. “It was just a joke man…” he knew. “Miss..? I’m sorry alright, it was just a joke.” He said as the others stood up and moved away. She just looked at them, clearly not impressed. “Well? Fuck off.” I said to the last one as he hurried away to his friends.

Y/N POV

I looked at the good looking stranger next to me. “I’m sorry, I never told you my name. I’m Nate.” He had a small smile on his face as he reached his hand out to me. I smiled and took his hand. “Hi, I’m y/n.” he mumbled softly my name, smiling as I smiled back at him. “I’m sorry, it’s very rude of me.” I pushed my hood off, revealing my face a bit more. “Also thank you for helping me out. I can defend myself but not 6 guys who are way taller than me.” He just smiles, nodding as I was rambling. “No problem.” I smiled and looked down at my hands. ‘I’m so cold tho.’ I tried to warm up my hands by rubbing them. “You’re still shivering, come here.” He lay his arm on the back of my chair, signalling me to come closer to him. “You sure?” I asked with a blush on my face. He nods and I carefully leaned into him. His hoodie was a bit damp but better than nothing. “Let me warm your hands.” He took them carefully into his warm, larger hands. He softly rubbed them and looked down at me. “How are they so cold? They are freezing.” I giggled and shrugged my shoulders. “They are always cold, I’m used to it.”

My stop was next so I pressed the stop button. “Sorry this is my stop.” Nate stood up, making some room for me to get up. “Are you sure you want to walk alone?” “Yeah I’m sure, thank you for your company.” He smiles. “No problem, I liked it. I hope we can meet each other more often…” I blushed and nodded. “You want my number?” I asked shyly, He nods and gave me his phone. I typed in my number as he held me steady as the bus was still moving. “Here, I hope we meet each other more often then.” He grabbed his phone and smiled. We both looked at each other, totally in love. The bus stopped suddenly and I fell against his chest. “I’m sorry.” I giggled while my cheeks where heating up. “No worries.” He said softly. “I really need to go, I’ll wait for your text.” I gave him a tiny kiss on his cheek and walked to the exit doors. “Don’t worry I will.” I waved at him and left the bus as I put my hood on as it was still raining. ‘I think I just fell in love with a stranger.’

Nate POV

She left the bus and I sat down, immediately texting her.

Me: hi, Can I ask you out on proper a date. I promise no busses and no rain. From Nate your bus buddy

I looked outside, smiling to myself. ‘I just fell in love with a stranger….and I missed my bus stop an half hour ago…’ I quickly grabbed my phone to call Chris to ask him to pick me up, from the train station as the bus stopped at his final destination. “Hey Chris, can you pick me up…yeah at the train station… I’ll tell you everything when you’re here….” I asked as I stepped out of the bus, smiling like an idiot.

#ufc x reader #ufc imagine #ufc imagines #nate diaz x reader #nate diaz imagine #nate x reader #mma imagine #mma x reader #reader x character #y/n imagines #y/n x character #imagines #imagine #x reader #x y/n #x you #fluff x reader #fluff imagine #soft fluff #reader x crush

[dukesoakedoats]

My Saint-2

a extra one shot for my fic, for this story guys let’s pretend Eoin lived and the French are already at the SAS camp okay? Mhm okay. I know this is significantly out of character for Eoin but uhhh 🧍🏽 Fan fics am I right? Ao3 link posted in comments. This is not beta read 🤡 we die like Og Eoin

“Eoin we need to talk” Stirling said looming over the Catholic boy. Stirlings face was plagued by wrinkles and lines of worry, of course they would be none of this was normal , nothing was okay. While Eoin was always taught to respect people in charge, and had great admiration for his superior he found his respect being replaced with hatred and loathing.

“Fuck off Stirling” Eoin hissed back with venom “it’s all YOUR FUCKIN FAULT!” Eoin lunged at the Brit standing mere center meters from his face, Eoins eyes were bloodshot and a vein was visibly popping out from his forehead , it felt good to lose control like this , to be free, maybe that’s why Paddy does (did) it often.

“YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT EOIN!” Stirling roared pressing his forehead with Eoins

“I HAVE EVERY FUCKIN RIGHT TO SPEAK TO YOU LIKE THAT YOU CLOWN!” Eoin roared spitting in Stirlings face. His heart was beating too fast, adrenaline was pumping through his veins but so was sadness, complete and utter sadness. He removed himself from Stirlings presence and threw himself onto his and Paddy’s cot. There were two cots in the tent but Eoin and Paddy only slept in one due to Paddy’s nagging about how he wanted to be close to his Belfast boy, his and only his. How he wanted to be able to feel their skin touch the others and how he could hear Eoins breath to assure himself that his lover was alive. God, how he wished he could hear Paddy’s breath or his faint snores but he can’t , he can’t anymore. 

“Y-you did this to me.”Eoin declared with the undenying sound of defeat lacing through the declaration “ you took him from me , you took my love, my P-paddy.” Even saying his name hurt “ all for a little stupid raid for those French fuckers.”

Silence.

Another beat of silence.

And another.

If Eoin couldn’t hear the faint chatter of the others in the hall next door he would think he had gone deaf. He remembered how much Paddy hated unnerving silence, said it made him feel naked, attacked and vulnerable. He remembered when he saw Paddy hum a little tune to himself in his cell after he had beaten up their last commanding officer, he remembered because that song was for Eoin, the tune. The melody, all for Eoin. It was called “Redemption” because apparently for Paddy that’s what Eoin was, redemption. It made Eoin chuckle but all that escaped his mouth was a grunt. There was no time to laugh , there was only time for revenge. And by God Eoin would get his revenge for what they did to his soulmate.

“Paddy knew he could die at any moment here.”Stirling replied as if he was a robot devoid of all feeling or memories of Paddy. It made Eoin see red. Paddy’s body hasn’t even been put in the ground six feet under and they already had the fuckin audacity to try to erase him from their memories. 

“You, Stirling, could of said no, you could of gone with them. It could of been you not him!”

“Eoin….”

“No! Don’t ya fuckin dare say Eoin to me, if that had been Jock or that woman Paddy told me about (Eve), you would be even madder than me!”

Stirling was still, a statue. Did he have no emotions, nothing?

Eoin must of been shouting too loud and alerted some comrades as the next moment Augustin had found his way to the mouth of Eoins and Paddy’s tent with a face full of sorrow and regret. Sorrow and regret that Eoin knew was not genuine but a fuckin facade he put on. Eoin knew he was happy Paddy was dead, it seemed like everyone was either happy to be free of the madman or indifferent. Eoin wanted to kill them all and now that thought scared Eoin because he was not a violent man…… was he?

“Eoin” the Frenchman spoke “ I am sorry for your loss. Paddy Mayne was a great fighter.”He wasn’t just a great fighter he was a great person “but he died for the greater good, without him me and my men would be dead , your sorrow doesn’t go unnoticed but do not blame us blame the fascist , blame the war , blame the desert but not us. We miss him too.”

We, Eoin clicked his tounge and he stood up and supported himself by leaning on a chest in the middle off the room, Dark red wood and silver clasps. It was beautiful , Eoin could see why Paddy had been so insistent on stealing it from a raid when they had first started.  Mm paddy and his great ideas.

“You are wrong , you French fool” Eoin heaved “ I do not blame you only, when I am done with the fascists, when I am done with peeling the skin off their bones, when I am done making them weep for their mothers, when I am done painting their base with red I will turn to you Augustin, and you Stirling for you are not blameless, I will soak myself in your blood like a baby being baptised, I will drown myself in the sea of red and bathe in it. Do you understand me Augustin?” Eoin turned to face him and Stirling who still had that pitiful look on his face. “I will  make the desert a abundant ocean of just YOUR BLOOD!” Eoin slammed his fist down on the chest. 

He hated this feeling, this feeling of rage and anger, he hated it. All he yearned for was to be with Paddy kissing his body and worshipping it, to run his fingers through the older man’s hair and kiss his beard. To trace his spine up and down or hold him on his chest while he reads poetry. To be in love, and safe with his angel. That’s all he wanted , all he needed. Yet, god is a sadist and enjoys seeing Eoin bubble to the brim with hatred was one of his favourite past times. Paddy was called the madman and Eoin would gladly carry on that name for him.

Eoin carried on talking even though he could feel his voice become shaky and uneven “I-if he hadn’t of gone to save you or your group , he would be alive here with me….”

“The Germans” Augustin said cautiously “ are the ones who pulled the trigger,sir.”

He knew that, he had been told by some of the soldiers the fate of  his love, how a German pressed a gun right on his temples and demanded to know where the camp was, where the SAS was where the camp was. Paddy is (was) stubborn like a bull so he didn’t say it and… and… the German fascist pulled the trigger.

Paddy couldn’t even have the dignity of dying fighting.

“But it was you who led him there.” Eoin retorted back, he had no time to be arguing with fools. Looking over to his left he saw something sticking out of Paddy’s pillow, he stood up to investigate raising suspicion from Augustin and Stirling.

“Mcgonigal what are you doing?”

Eoin didn’t know who said that , he only knew it was annoying him like how the buzz of a fly in a quite room drives a person mad, mhm yes, they were all flies to Eoin. Useless with no purpose, the reason Eoin was here was gone and so therefore was his respect to them all, they were flies. Shit beneath his feet. He lifted the pillows corner and there under it was a knife, he recalled where Paddy had gotten that knife, after a raid he had been eyeing it up on a fascists dead corps, it had the engraving of a eagle in its hilt and on the blade itself there were beautiful patterns. It was Paddy’s favourite find from a raid , he would always carry it with him , attaching it to one of his belt loops and making his own personalised sheath for it. The dagger was holy to Eoin, it was something of Paddy’s, he carefully took it out from under the pillow. There was no doubt that the other two figures in the room had seen it, high on alert. Eoin bought the blade up to his chapped and dry lips and kissed it, tenderly and with so much love and affection. It was like he and Paddy were once again kissing. Hands intertwined with one another , hiding behind the sand dunes. Paddy pushing himself on to Eoins chest and leaning in to his lips and then afterwards peppering the man’s chest with little love bites. 

“Mcgongical.” Jesus, did Stirling not know when to shut his mouth? “Put it down.” He commanded Eoin to do so, expected him to do so. A entitled fool Stirling was.

The atmosphere in the tent was tense , not even a knife could cut it , maybe a chainsaw but who knows. Eoin bought the knife down to his side and slowly turned to face the others, it was like he was possessed his movement unnatural, animalistic. He didn’t even feel his tears that had been running out from his eyes, leaving multiple streaks on his cheeks and dampening his long and brown eyelashes. Paddy always loved his eyelashes and eyes, called it the window to the soul.

“Sir,” Augustin said with caution as he ever so slightly started to move back “he wouldn’t want to see you like this, he wouldn’t want this fate to befall you.”

“I.don’t.care.” Eoin responded mutely , gripping the hilt of the dagger so much saw his knuckles were becoming white. Eoin knew that this wasn’t the way but it was the only way, all that anger and frustration that had been festering in his hate had finally over-boiled, no  one knew Paddy like he did , all they saw him for was the madman, the fool, the violent dog. Not the real Paddy, not the man who wanted to be a poet, not the man who would calm Eoin to sleep and not the man who could talk for hours about his family and the love he shared for them. No, if they thought Paddy was a violent dog, what would they think Eoin was?

Eoin lunged at Augustin with the dagger , with the sole intention of drawing blood from the French man. It was a absolute circus, Stirling tried to restrain Eoin but the younger was taller and lankier than the Brit and could easily weave himself out of the hold, Augustin had taken to trying to run out of the tent only for Eoin to pounce on him and wrestle him to the sand,dagger in hand. He could smell the fear coming from Augustin , he could see it in his eyes. Then.

He slashed Augustins chest with Paddy’s knife. It was a long gash, but nothing too life threatening , but not insufficient that the victim would need feel pain. Eoin liked that, liked how the French fool withered under him , tried his best to be free of Eoins grasp, tried to reason with Eoin. Pathetic site. Eoin didn’t notice how Stirling had run over to the scene and hoisted Eoins body off their comrade and thrown him on to the sand, hard. 

“EOIN WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Eoin stared at the scene, at what he had done.

“DO YOU HEAR ME MCGONIGAL?! DO YOU?!”

Eoin looked at Paddy’s blade, blood was running down to the sharp metal tip of the dagger , Eoin would have to clean it. He knew Paddy hated his stuff getting dirty. He stood up and went to go to his tent. Yes, sand was in his hair but that’s okay, Paddy could just clean it out later for him.

“EOIN WHERE THE FUCK DO YA THINK YA GOIN HELP ME TAKE HIM TO THE MEDIC.” 

Eoin couldn’t hear Stirling or Augustins cries. He was in his own delusional world , walking up to his tent like everything was okay. Sitting himself on their shared bed and wiping off all the tainted blood on Paddy’s blade with a piece of cloth he had found somewhere , he couldn’t quite recall where though. He cleaned it religiously as if he was one of Jesus disciples washing Jesus feet. An act of servitude. Eoin thought how happy Paddy will (would) be when he discovers that his blade is being taken care of. Eoin couldn’t wait to see Paddy again, even though his chest was heaving and being racked with sobs, even though he felt the sting in his eyes and his vision become glossed over by the tears , he still smiled and sat on his and Paddy’s bed. Waiting for Paddy to burst through the tent at any moment, face caked in sand and blood and waiting for the older man to throw himself on to Eoin and embrace him , maybe even kiss him if they’re had time. Yes, Eoin mused, he would wait for Paddy for a day. If Paddy doesn’t come back , Eoin will simply join him. He will walk into the desert and the sand dunes with a pistol and nothing more and join Paddy. 

Paddy to Eoin was , and is everything. 

They will be reunited again , no matter what.

#paddy x eoin #eoin mcgonigal #eoin x paddy #sas rogue heroes #my fic #paddon #Eoin makes his own stages of grief

[darth-atarah]

EPISTULAE - Those Five Years

A series of letters my characters send to each other or to some companions between 16 and 21 ATC, while the Outlander is frozen in carbonite. I may write more of them in the future as I figure out what everyone of them was doing, and I will update this post.

See the end for some notes.

————————————

The Force has spoken to me once more. For what our differences are, I know it has spoken to you as well.

I am going into hiding, and bring those who want to follow me. You may criticize me for my cowardice or inertness in your next letter if you wish, but I hope one day I can explain you my reasons for such a choice in person, and that you will understand.

For the first time in months, the path is clear. It is now the moment for us to retire, so we can return stronger in the future, and fight once more.

“When the Faithful shall doubt

When the Proud shall rest in pride

and the One who once escaped will dare to look behind,

The Spark shall ignite once again”

This is what my visions said to me, this is the time when we will act. Though when this future will come, I do not know. For now, all I can hope is that, when the signs will manifest, you and I will be able to recognize them.

Until then, stay safe.

S.N.

[Classified dispatch delivered to Darth Nox, 18 ATC]

————————————

Theron,

I had good news from my sister, more or less. Some days ago, a group of Zakuulans arrived to her enclave, disguised as refugees. They definitely knew were to look and for who. Sofia obviously had them spitting out everything in a matter of hours with all that charm of her. I would have opted for a blaster to their heads, but that’s not the point.

They’re deserters, Theron, DESERTERS. And apparently willing to give some infos you and Lana might want to hear, but let’s leave the rest for when we meet in person. Those fuckers already know too much about my businesses for my own tastes.

As if we hadn’t our hands full already, their leader says one of the damn Knights is hunting him down. We have to move quickly, I’ll find a way to have him brought here, so I can see for myself if this guy is as useful as Sof says. She also kept mentioning some Force vision and one of those cryptic poems she writes, but I think I’ll keep relying on facts.

Whatever blasted hell you are in, fly safe.

Elias

[Message delivered to Theron Shan’s personal shuttle, 19 ATC]

————————————

Malavai,

By the time you read this, I will already be in the Unknown Regions.

I know I will disappoint you with my decision, and as I leave Dromund Kaas that is my only regret. But my instincts have never betrayed me, and it is my intention to follow them, even if this time they bring me far from you, from our son and our home.

For the first time, Lana and Theron seem to have a true lead. A part of me still refuses the idea of a single Jedi being the key of this war, but I am willing to take the risk if this can save the Empire from its degrading condition.

I now speak to you not as your Lord, not as the Empire’s Wrath, but just as a wife, and a mother. In the name of what we shared, I ask you to read carefully.

This message will automatically delete as soon as you close it. For no reason you must be linked to my actions in any way. If there is any affection for me left in your heart, do not try to reach out to me until I do it myself. Do not try to find me, or send agents trying to.

Take our son and leave Kaas City. To defy the Council has consequences, the capital is NOT safe.

Watch over Vidarr and stay safe, my love.

Rhy’Lis

[Automatic message sent to Captain Malavai Quinn’s personal frequency, 19 ATC]

————————————

Consider yourself lucky, for your husband had the sense to contact me instead of his dear High Command before the whole Empire could learn about your foolish act.

I won’t even begin to explain how much of what we were planning is now undone. I thought you had come to terms with your mistake of favoring Acina, years ago. All she was able to do was condemning us all to this humiliating subjection. Your support to my claim as Emperor would have been invaluable, since every other remaining Lord seems to lack any sense or nerve in these times. In light of your recent actions and the chaos that will succeed, I have no other choice than to keep working in the shadows.

But it is not my intention to send my army after you, or the Intelligence, not for the moment, even if it would be my pleasure to scold you in person. Another one already came to me before, sure that what you, Shan and Beniko intend to do it is the ultimate solution to turn the tables of this conflict. I remain skeptical about said “solution”, but should you succeed in your search, I will follow the developments with great interest.

I will do what I can so no one learns about your true purpose. However, I don’t think I will be able to do much for the reputation you shall gain in the eyes of the Dark Council and of the Empress. Most likely, they will decide to mark you as a traitor when Zakuul comes to us, demanding explanations for the sudden absence of the Wrath.

I trust you won’t be foolish enough to answer this message. I will wait for more favorable times, should you hear from me again.

Nox

[Encrypted message delivered to the Empire’s Wrath personal ship, 20 ATC]

————————————

It has to be tonight, Elara.

We finally have a lead. If what I learned from Theron and Lana is true, we are closer to Master Mynehart than ever before.

My family got us an unregistered ship that will be ready by the end of the day, settled on a route for Zakuul. No one will stop us at the spaceport.

Aric and Yuun are coming too, and I was able to persuade the others. We’ll leave Forex behind for now, too many risks. And I heard nothing from Tanno.

I am aware of the position I am putting you in, but this inertness is sickening to say the least. Havoc’s dismissal was the last insult; as a soldier of the Republic I can’t tolerate this situation any longer.

Docking bay 61-b, 20.00

I trust to see you there, my friend.

Clotilde

[Message delivered to Sergeant Elara Dorne, later turned in to Supreme Commander Jace Malcom, 20 ATC]

————————————

THE SPARK IGNITES ONCE AGAIN

THE SPARK IGNITES ONCE AGAIN

THE SPARK IGNITES ONCE AGAIN

[Transmission repeated on every available frequency approximately 48 hours after the Outlander’s escape, 21 ATC. Zakuulan Intelligence wasn’t able to detect the exact source]

————————————

NOTES:

Battlemaster Phoebe Mynehart is the Outlander.

My Sith Warrior, Rhy’Lis Akrasia, joined Lana and Theron on their search for the Outlander.

Barsen’thor Sofia Naerie and Domiras Kallig aka Darth Nox have been secretly in contact, exchanging informations and trying to limit the sabotage actions between the Republic and the Empire. Rumor has it that they have been emotionally involved.

My Smuggler, Elias Naerie, is Sofia’s older brother and helps her by smuggling goods and transporting refugees to various safehouses around the Galaxy.

Clotilde Feyre, my Trooper, remained in command of Havoc Squad, and is an open opposer to the peace treaties with Zakuul.

#swtor #star wars the old republic #swtor oc #the old republic #oc: phoebe mynehart #oc: rhy’lis akrasia #oc: sofia naerie #oc: domiras kallig #oc: Clotilde Feyre #swtor outlander #knights of the fallen empire #knights of the eternal throne #swtor kotfe #swtor kotet #slight canon divergence #swtor fanfiction #swtor writing #swtor worldbuilding #yes the poem is terrible but I didn’t come up with anything better lmao

[zachsreaderinserts]

sleepy boys inc x gn!teen! reader headcannons

trying something new! i like bbs and all, but i wanted to write for other youtubers! lemme know if yall wanna see more content like this lol.

this takes place in a minecraft au!!! also, mentions of bad parenting/abusive parents

wc: 2,319

okay the sleepy boys

chaos incarnated, all of them. you can’t deny it

so, when tommy invites a friend from a local village, at first, everyone else is skeptical. since when has tommy made a friend who didn’t hate him within 20 minutes from all the screaming and insults he spewed?

unlike his friends, phil is more excited than anything. though he isn’t tommy’s dad, he feels like it sometimes, so he really wants to meet this new person who has caught the youngest’s attention

techno is very much not on board. he has a hard time trusting people at first glance and having been friends with tommy for the longest, he knows that tommy readily jumps the gun and attempts to befriend literally anything just because he can

and wilbur? indifferent for the most part. yes, he feels the need to make sure tommy is protected and cared for, but he also recognizes that this situation is out of his hands. the best he can do is hope that their friend isn’t an absolute asshole

so, it’s saturday. all three men are sitting on the couch in phil’s cottage, talking amongst themselves as they wait for tommy to come back. techno makes a joke about murdering them, which leads to phil scolding him about his violent tendencies

“you haven’t even met them yet, techno, what the fuck.”

wilbur is simply adding fuel to the fire, making little remarks here and there and watching the whole thing escalate to phil lecturing the piglin hybrid.

because of this, not one of them had noticed that tommy returned, with his newest friend. they both stopped at the sight of phil in dad mode, tommy considering just turning around and taking his friend as far away as physically possible

too late, since techno’s sixth sense made him whip around and stare at the newcomer. this made phil stop lecturing and wilbur quit giggling long enough for tommy to introduce his friend

after saying their name, the friend lifted their hand shyly, face burning from slight embarrassment. their other hand was latched onto tommy’s, feeling intimidated.

can you blame them? the fucking blood god looks like they wanna skewer them and cook them over a campfire.

tommy took notice of their shyness and cleared his throat, “we were planning on going to the carnival in their village if you three assholes feel like tagging along.”

like there was any way they were gonna let tommy and his friend go out without chaperones.

tommy turned back to his friend, “give me a second, i’m gonna go grab my sword just in case.” and proceeded to run up the stairs and towards the guest bedroom in phil’s house that he claimed.

the millisecond he was out of earshot, techno grabbed his friend by the front of the shirt.

“what are your intentions with tommy?”

the friend blinked once, twice, then bit back a smile. “you’re asking that as if i’m about to date that motherfucker.”

this time, it was wilbur who bit back a grin of his own. who would’ve expected the originally shy kid to have replied like that????

techno’s brain short circuited and his grip on their shirt loosened slightly. did.... did this kid just brush off his question???

“can you put me down? you’re gonna stretch my shirt.”

techno’s brain blinked back into focus and he gripped the kid’s shirt harder, shoving them against the nearest wall. “i asked a question, kid.”

“you know, tommy told me something like this would happen. i’m glad i came prepared.” and then, tommy’s friend sucked in a deep breath. techno leaned back, expecting the worst...

“MWISTER TECHNWOBWADE, PWEASE PUT MWE DOWN BEFWORE I SCWEAM”

oh god, this was far worse than anything he thought of.

he dropped the teen out of disgust more than anything, reeling backwards. if there was one thing that haunted his dreams, it was uwu-speak.

phil started howling of laughter, clutching his stomach and hunching over. originally he was going to stop techno from threatening a literal child but this outcome was so much better than anything he was anticipating

wilbur was no better, already tearing up from how hard he was snickering. he started choking on his own spit at one point, smacking his arm against the couch.

tommy was so fucking confused when he came back down the stairs, seeing the mayhem that was, for once, not caused by him. he glanced at his friend, who had the world’s biggest shiteating grin.

yeah, they were gonna fit in just fine.

and they did! phil took them under his wing (both physically and metaphorically) and allowed them to come visit his home whenever they wished. and whenever they did, phil was the first to ask how they’ve been and what they were up to

to phil’s surprise, the kid was overall calm in their choice of activities. things like playing soccer or drawing or figuring out how to learn instruments in their free time. it seemed like they were desperate to get their hands on anything and everything just to learn

he found it funny, though, when their chaotic side shone through. they easily were on tommy’s level when they got into that headspace and it was so hilarious to him.

his favorite memory of the kid was when they walked into the house and marched right up to where techno was reading idly in the corner. planting their hands on their hips, they spoke.

“if you were to fuck a clone of yourself, would it be masturbation or would you be considered gay?”

phil, who was washing the dishes six feet away from them, just about crumbled into a ball on the floor from how hard he was laughing and sobbing.

of all questions, that was the one that came out.

but he had no idea that the chaos was a coping mechanism. he just thought they were naturally like that in their free time.

he soon found out the truth when they came home with tommy, who was cursing up a fit, visibly angry. his friend was slumped over, as if trying to hide themselves from the world

when phil asked what had happened, tommy exploded.

“their fucking dad took all their money from their savings! said he needed it more than them and when they asked for it back, he called them a fucking disappointment! that fucking bitch--”

phil can count very few times when he felt true anger and he can confirm that when tommy had told him what had gone down, he saw red.

but he knew better than to outwardly show it. judging by how hunched over and defeated the kid was, what they needed was a stable support system

so he walked over and shut tommy up with a hand on his shoulder, “why don’t we take the rest of the night to build up that game room you wanted in the basement. i’m sure if we knock it out before techno and wil are supposed to be back, we can all play something like monopoly.”

seeing where phil was headed, tommy nodded and brushed away his anger. he knew that what his friend needed was a serious cheering up. tommy ran towards his guest bedroom, claiming that he was going to find his blocks.

phil crouched in front of the teen, tilting their head up to look him in the eyes. “you’re not a disappointment. you’re an amazing person with a chaotic joke machine going 120 kilos over the speed limit in your head and you are talented. your dad doesn’t know shit about what you’re capable of doing.”

oh boy, the kid’s crying. those are tears, full on tears.

that night was one of the best nights of their life, however. they enjoyed the entire three hour long game of monopoly where they watched the light leave everyone’s eyes. it was funny when wilbur lunged across the table when he landed on a railroad, out for phil’s blood.

speaking of wilbur, he enjoyed every minute in the kid’s presence. they often asked creative and random questions and went along with the abstract jokes he made, the two of them laughing heartily the entire time.

when the kid first mentioned wanting to learn how to play the guitar, he practically burst through the wall of the room next door, breathing heavily and exaggeratedly.

“did someone say guitar”

yeah, he’s feral. that’s canon.

they proceeded to spend the entire day in phil’s garden, each of them equipped with a guitar. despite their outwardly smooth brain and stupid demeanor, the teen was a fast learner and could play the most basic chords by the time the sun was setting.

wilbur’s favorite moment was the first night they met, when they went to the carnival. there was the game where you shoot the water and fill up the balloons and the kid was going head to head against techno and tommy.

it was when techno won that the teen turned to techno with murder in their eyes and spoke in a deadpan tone of voice,

“you’re lucky you won this time, you gentrified mayo monkey.”

wilbur’s jaw dropped, as did techno and phil’s. tommy was already in hysterics, smacking his hand against the counter that held the guns.

needless to say, wilbur found his favorite, not-quite sibling in a heartbeat.

techno was the last to come around with the child. can you blame him? every time he tried to threaten them or had beaten them at something, they would respond in a cryptic threat--

“i’m going to pee your pants if you don’t let me win”

or just brushed him off. without a second thought.

“anyways, i was murdering a chicken the other day, and the fucker had the audacity to ribbit at me.”

to say he was confused was an understatement. he was terrified of the fact that a literal child held so much power and disinterest in things like their own life. so for the first few months, he avoided them.

but he had seen past that when it was around midnight on a weekday. tommy was hanging out with tubbo and ranboo in their village miles away from the area. wilbur was out drinking with schlatt, niki, and fundy, and phil was already asleep.

techno wasn’t too far behind, sitting in front of the fireplace and staring out of the window that showed the front yard. it was only then when he saw the flash of a familiar face and looked closer as the teen walked up to the house quietly. their head was down and they carried a small bag with them.

techno opened the front door with a long creak as they reached the porch steps. it was only when they jumped and looked up in surprise that techno had noticed a deep bruise on their left cheek in the moonlight.

despite the fact that he kept away from them, techno was very protective and territorial of tommy, phil, and wilbur. and since they were attached to the teen, he became protective of them as well.

so all the voices in his head went quiet for a second. before exploding into a mixture of screams and threats, all leading back to protecting the child in front of him.

without thinking, he reached forward and cupped their face for a better view of the bruise. at the warm and soft touch, tears slipped down the kid’s cheeks and they sniffed pathetically.

the voices quickly took a 180, all screaming to take care of them. make them feel better. so, techno led the kid inside and let them spend the night in his room, with them falling asleep on the bed and him falling asleep on the rocking chair in his room.

phil did not hesitate to officially declare himself as the teen’s official father, saying that their biological father was a “little bitch”

now somewhat living with the teen, techno found an appreciation for their quieter moments, when they were reading or simply daydreaming. it was cute, in his eyes. but he also grew to enjoy when they were absolutely feral, especially toward tommy.

his favorite moment with them was when they had gifted tommy a music disc for his birthday. it was sweet and sentimental and tommy just about burst into tears when he saw it.

all of the sappiness quickly vanished when tommy put it into a jukebox.

“FUCK THIS PUSSY, BOY, FUCK. FUCK IT RIGHT, BOY--”

tommy had let out the most terrified scream and it practically engrained itself into techno’s brain. it was the first time he ever laughed at something the teen had done and the teen felt proud of themselves.

and finally, tommy. he was already happy to call himself a friend of the teen’s. they were like peas in a pod, working together.

tommy came to them when his insecurity felt heavy and they came to him whenever their dad’s words got to them. they had a nice system of dependency on one another and neither of them would trade it for the world.

tommy’s favorite moment of being friends with them was during their first birthday living in phil’s house. it was a birthday befitting their personality, with brightly color streamers hung and confetti all over the floor. he knew that they enjoyed it severely and once the cake was cut, the kid turned to phil.

“phil, where’s the big tiddy strippers i requested?”

tommy was GONE

he all but choked on his slice of cake and walked away, shaking his head while trying to stifle his giggles. but when he heard phil’s scream of “WHAT”, he just lost it.

all in all, his friend had made a fine part of the sleepy boys. they were a happy face in an otherwise somewhat bleak and dangerous world. and all four men appreciated it.

#sleepy boys x reader #sleepy bois x reader #sleepy bois inc #sleepy boys inc #sbi x reader #x reader #reader insert #teen! reader #mcyt x reader #minecraft youtubers #minecraft youtubers x reader #dreamsmp x reader

[bonky-n-steeb]

𝐵𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐸

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙾𝙽𝙴

𝘿𝘼𝙍𝙆!𝘽𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙔 𝘽𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙀𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼���𝙀𝙍 | 𝙈𝙊𝘽!𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙓 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: Your life is as good as it gets. The perfect husband, the perfect daughter, the perfect job. But what you are unaware is that your husband is a deadly assassin and your long-lost friend, now a fearsome mob boss is hell bent on getting you back. But what you don’t know can't hurt you, right?

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: psychological disorder, PTSD, domestic abuse, yandere, obsession, violence, cursing. If you find any of this triggering please DNI. Also inform me if I left something out.

ᴛʜɪs ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, sᴏ ᴀʟʟ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ

Oh, lawd! i have to post everything again! Send me all your energy. If you wanna be tagged, just inform me!

Also, I’ll be changing the story by a little, (or by a lot, idk) from my previous version.

You were feeling like John Travolta from the music video of Stayin’ Alive. Vibing to your own rhythm, living your own freedom. Attending college miles away from your hometown, you were the captain of your ship. Though you loved your parents more than anything, you were glad for the freedom granted upon you.

Your Freshmen year had just begun and you had already made a few friends. But what you didn’t want to accept just yet was your crush on one of them, Bucky. With his steely blue eyes and boyish charm, even a goddess might fall for him, and you were just a mortal. You were simply happy with being friends as you believed he would never like you and well, a little crush never hurt nobody.  

Completing your shift in a local bookstore, just outside the campus, you were walking back, lost in your own thoughts. What caught your attention was a group of howling high schoolers; from the look of it, they were barely a year to two younger than you. A group of tall and popular kids were bullying a skinny, helpless dude; ufff the usual cliché you thought to yourself. What you failed to notice though was his bleeding nose.  

You were a kind soul, always helping others, but you were no fool. All alone in an unknown town, you weren't going to confront the burly teens who were twice your own size. After giggling and cracking some stupid jokes on the poor dude trying to impress a girl, they left him and that’s when you noticed all the blood. You quickly crossed the road and walked towards him. He seemed smaller than he was as he was crouching down and trying to rub all the blood.

“Hey! Pinch your nose, don’t disturb it by rubbing.” you said while bending down. “Uhh, okay... thanks!” he looked at you with big doe eyes and you were utterly mesmerized by the blue oceans he had for his eyes. “Do you.. Do you need something else kid? Where do you live?” you asked giving him a candy and your water bottle. “I’m no kid!” he exclaimed and you flinched.  

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. You are helping me and here I am shouting at you.” You could clearly see remorse in his eyes and you wondered why would someone hurt him? “yeah, yeah.. It's Okay... now have this candy, the sugar will help you feel better.” you said with a soft smile. “thank you so much... and by the way I live two streets across. I mean I can go by myself, I'm a grown-up.. But...” he trailed off and you helped him get up.

“I’m Steve” he tried his best to smile and you followed by sharing your own name. And with that his chatter train began, he explained that he was just trying to help another girl getting bullied, when the bullies decided to change their target and chase Steve instead.

“you should wear your own mask first and then help others wear theirs.” you quipped and instantly bit your tongue. “Hmm, what?” he asked genuinely curious. “what I meant is that you did what is correct and very brave, but sometimes you gotta think for yourself too. But these are just my thoughts.” you shrugged. “I’ll remember that.” he said with a genuine expression. And after a million thank yous he finally went in his house. By the size of his house, he seemed rich and you wondered maybe this wasn't that cliché.  

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

The next day, you were walking back the same road, when you thought of Steve. He really was a kind and sweet person. This world needed more of people like him. And just then you saw him smiling brightly and waving at you, his nose bandaged. He had a huge box in his hand.

“Heyyyyy! Thank you for helping me yesterday. So I just... kinda got this as a ... a token of appreciation. I considered you might like donuts, so I got you this.” He said rubbing his nape. His cheeks had become so red he looked like a ripe tomato. “well, if you haven’t already given me diabetes by saying so many thank yous, after eating sooo many donuts I’ll surely get it.” At that you both chuckled and the atmosphere became lighter. As you picked a donut, he looked at you with such admiration you thought you would melt then and there.

Suddenly with a stern expression you asked “what if it’s drugged?” His eyes widened and he stuttered, “I... I would never do that ...” he looked down and you thought he might cry. “hey waittt.. don’t get so sad.. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. I was just joking. I have this really bad habit of saying things when I shouldn’t. God I just ruined everything.” You just made a mental note not to joke around him, he seemed to be quite emotional. Though it was going to be difficult to tame your tongue. “don’t be. I just take things too literally.... anyway let’s have some donuts what say?” He said with such shine in his eyes you wondered whether he was sad just a moment before.

You both walked up to your university campus, munching on donuts. You both shared things about yourselves. You told him how you were passionate in becoming a doctor. He on the other hand talked about his struggles in studying. “will you help me? You are so smart and bright, will you help me study if I have a doubt or something?” he asked giving his big doe eyes.

You weren’t going to agree at first, you had just met him a day ago. But after looking in those calm blue pools of his eyes you agreed. Seeing the joy on his face, you wondered whether he just won an Oscar.

What you didn’t know was that Steve had already fallen in love with you, yes love, he was convinced that you were the one for him, his one true love. Not a moment had he been able to think of anything but you since he had met you. You were everything he needed and wanted and much more. He was simply desperate to spend more time with you.

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

It had been around six months since you met Steve. Over the time you two had turned out to be best friends. While Steve had fallen even more in love with you, you had fallen hopelessly in love with bucky. While you always told bucky about Steve and vice versa, you never confessed to Steve about your love for Bucky, thus furthermore increasing his hopes. You desperately wished to make Steve and Bucky meet. They were two important people in your life and you more than anything wished that they got together well.  

Today was the day when you decided to arrange a small meet and greet at the park where you and Steve met every day. You and Bucky walked together towards the tree where you usually sat with Steve waiting there for you. You knew both would like each other, but somewhere deep within your gut you were getting a not-so good feeling about this.  

Steve’s eyes lit up seeing you but as they turned to Bucky, it felt as if all the energy had been sucked out of him. You didn’t like that one bit. “Bucky!?” Steve exclaimed in half disappointment and half fear. “You both... you both know each other?” you ask bewildered. You tried chuckling to lighten the mood but by the looks of it they were sworn enemies, but you prayed that you were wrong. “yeah, we know each other a little too well... Uh... We were good friends once.” Steve quietly admitted.

All this time Bucky had his jaw clenched, dragging in a deep breath he began. “I knew it! I knew it would be you, you little fucker! You want to have everything don’t you? Goddammit! I had this feeling it was you but I thought it was too much of a coincidence, but no. fate had to be so cruel.” you were shocked to see Bucky's sudden outburst. You wondered what conspired between the two, as either hadn’t ever mentioned the other.  

You were snapped out of your thoughts with Bucky calling your name. “let’s go. I don’t want to see him even for a minute more and neither do you.” Bucky started pulling your hand but you stopped him “Bucky no. I guess you have some misunderstanding; Steve is a good person. And you don’t get to tell me who to talk to and who to not.”

Suddenly Bucky turned back to Steve, anger written all over his face. “You didn’t tell her, huh, did you? Don’t worry I'll tell her. Steve is the son of Joseph Rogers and he is the freaking Don Corleone of this area. Do you know how my father died? Steve’s father had him killed just because unknowingly he provided shelter to his father’s fugitive. Steve just pretends to be a caring, emotional person but he is a snake behind that mask, so is everyone in his family.” towards the end Bucky was in tears and you were in utter shock. Now that you tried to remember, Steve never really did tell you much about his family. And the fact that Steve wasn’t denying any single allegation made you want to puke your guts out.

“You have taken too much from me. But not this. Not her. Not the woman I love more than anything.” Bucky said it out loud in the heat of the moment. You were too dumbstruck to even blink. Did Bucky just confess that he loved you?  

Bucky turned to you and held your arm with such softness you wondered if he was just now screaming his lungs out at Steve. “I know I can't tell you who to be with, and I promise I never will in the future, but trust me you want to be caught up with him or his family. And still, if you choose him, well then, I can’t be with you.”

You knew you had to make a choice then and there, there was no going back, and you chose Bucky.

#chris evans #sebastian stan #mcu #marvel #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #mob!steve #dark!bucky #mob!steve x reader #dark!bucky x reader

[hmspogue]

Outer Banks season 2 Official Trailer shot-by-shot rundown

A comprehensive post where I scream about analyze the entire trailer frame by frame for clues, theories, and plot. Just my own opinions and general tin foil-hatting

These are screenshots from Netflix’s trailer for Outer Banks season 2. I do not claim or own any of these.

note: this post is tagged as a long post if you wish to avoid having to scroll until your thumbs break.

“My old man used to tell me, ‘it’s best to never say you’ve hit rock bottom’.”

(Putting all of these shots together since they’re scenes we already know but-) Holy shit, okay let’s just....start off like this I guess, damn.

“'Trust me’, he said...”

Kiara looking back and forth between the boys like this really just feeds the headcanon I have that her form of grief this season is going to be her trying to hold it together for their sakes (and eventually just snapping).

JJ just looks fucking furious someone give these kids a hug? I already know this scene is going to ruin me.

“You can always go...”

JJ back working at the hotel. He looks literally so angry again in this scene I could see him self destructing at work and losing his job? (Please do not be isolating yourself you beautiful son of a bitch even though I know you’re going to).

Pope in the Twinkie (costuming wise they all are in warmer looking clothes for some of the shots, so just confirming it’s a little bit into the school year when this all takes place).

“Lower”

Big John was real big into pep talks, I see. (seriously can you imagine Big John having this conversation with like 8 year old John B after he fucking dropped his ice cream cone or some shit I shouldn’t be laughing).

I’m just-

These poor kids, I wanna know how the police all the way down in the Bahama’s knew about them?

Their calves....

“RUN!”

Are going to be so fucking jacked by the end of this season I stg.

Fuck you.

“The gold from the Royal Merchant....it’s here.”

For a while, I had thought that maybe they didn’t even make it to the Bahama’s at the front of the season and ended there (because everyone had been filming in there). But I guess they’re going to be making two trips.

If I were a bird from this POV I’d shit right on that house no questions asked.

oooooh ho hokay. Just so we’re clear. Ward Cameron not only get away with murder and about two dozen other felonies, but-

“Half a billion.”

HE STILL FINDS THE GOLD IN THE CRAIN HOUSE AND GETS TO KEEP IT?

Not the polo with the snap back, I just know this man has a playlist called Sad Boi Hours that is just Juice WRLD’s top 5 songs on Spotify and he tells his friends they wouldn’t know the underground artists he listens to.

Sh, you have lost screaming privileges. Go inside and take a nap maybe.

“John B, we are fugitives in a foreign country.”

So, previously, I was talking about how I was confused how they would still be trying to find him is everyone thought he was dead, but here the wanted poster clearly says “presumed lost at sea”. I think that will be interesting to see how the Pogues all interpret that. 

Especially because they already had a memorial for John B and everything, I wonder if there will be any part of the Pogues holding out hope that they both could still be out there OUCH.

I’m going to circle back to this, but it looks like John B and Sarah are going to get separated for a little while in this man hunt, I could see my idiot himbo son trying to sacrifice himself so Sarah can get away but in reality just....stranding her.

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid?”

Oh, sweetie....

“Well, Sarah Cameron, I do stupid things all the time without realizing it.”

The volume of his self awareness is astronomical. sir, that is your whole character summed up in your own words.

GOD, IT’S ME AGAIN. PLEASE LET THEM LEAN INTO COMPLETE HIMBO JOHN B THIS SEASON I’LL DO ANYTHING-

nyyooooOOOOOOOOOOOOM-

“Hold on!”

The complete abject terror I would feel having John Booker Routledge driving get-away and then saying the words “Hold on” while reaching fro the gear shift? The english language fails me. 

Sarah, bestie, I’m so sorry.

I just wanna know-

what the plan or objective was in this situation. What was the reason for being this dramatic.

Rest in piss, bozo <3

“Ward’s still out there...”

Okay, same conversation they were having as before. I wonder what makes them decide they need to get back to the OBX for this tho.

“I can clear my name. This can all be over in one shot.”

It looks like Topper watching this but way more concerningly, correct me if I’m wrong but this 100% looks like....John B gets caught. And the DEATH PENALTY?! He did have a mug shot for the fliers in s1 and the one above but he was never brought in? Plus he just looks super dirty and dishevled in this one so I-

Jail break anyone?

I also still want to know if they’re going to go with a Topper redemption arc this season. like, does he know more than he should just from being around Rafe and his big fat mouth? Is he going to help out the Pogues even if it’s just for Sarah?

This shot just suddenly made me really sad. The thought of this all started because Big John left one last thing for his son to find, his literal life’s work. And when it all started, it was just a fun adventure John B and his best friends were going on together and having fun with. Then it all got dragged to absolute shit and turned into what it did, including the remaining 3 Pogues thinking that this treasure hunt took their two best friends away from them. And it’s nothing like Big John intended it to be.

Why my eyes wet?

Now we’re edging into what I was talking about earlier with John B and Sarah getting separated.

“If you think there is anything I wouldn’t do...”

Once again, John B is no where to be found. Also, just in case y’all didn’t already know or forgot Ward is an actual psychopath.

I believe this one of the new character, played by Jontavious Johnson (Stubbs). Based on the voice over it lowkey sounds like they’re implying Ward maybe hired Stubbs and Cleo to find and bring Sarah back. My theory would be I bet they do go to retrieve her, but she somehow convinces them that it would be more beneficial for them in the end to be on the Pogue’s side instead.

Miss Girl you gotta be keeping your head on a SWIVEL. Especially when you’re a FUGITIVE of the LAW-

“...you haven’t been paying attention.”

My guy, who are you clarifying this for?

It’s what you deserve for monologuing.

in all seriousness, the idea of them coming to face to face with Ward in Nassau after thinking they finally escaped him is genuinely terrifying.

“SARAH!”

It kind of looks like they’re either hiding their faces or covering their noses? I don’t know maybe it was from some tactic to get away from Ward.

What did I literally jsut say about yelling privileges, you unhinged mother fucker?

“I’m calling the shots now. I’m driving.”

The following progression of scenes made me actually snort-

“I can’t drive stick.”

PLEASE THE FINGER GUNS LAUNCHED ME INTO ORBIT I LOVE THEM, YOUR HONOR.

Alright, so now it looks like we’re in Charleston. This is the same scene with Heyward’s truck that got leaked from BTS (read: JJ and Kie shoulder touch).

One of the main things that stuck out to me in the following scenes which, you will see, is it lowkey looks like Pope is kind of heading up this part of the operation, or even going in alone? The following clips are just very Pope focused. 

I don’t know what it means, it’s just an observation.

“John B was not the only one that Ward double-crossed.”

LIMBRY-

Bro, we have been hearing about this woman for literal months and I just have....so many questions? 

Who the hell is she? How is she connected to Ward? Why is she in South Carolina instead of the OBX? How do the Pogues even learn about her and how to track her down? How is she meant to “help” them? GAH I JUST WANNA KNOOOW. I already know I don’t trust her though and no I will not be offering up supporting evidence.

Sir, that is my son please unhand him.

“I think you know what I want.”

.......no? But feel....free to explain yourself?

The print on the paper is the same one that’s on the ceiling tiles in the following scene. Obviously, with a key on it that most likely goes to the place a few shots from now.

Hell yeah, son, let’s get SLEUTHING.

“The treasure belongs to the Pogues.”

DAMN STRAIGHT.

Bestie’s I’m not going to lie, I stared at this frame for a solid 10 minuets and I have no idea what it says on there I’m sorry. Someone in the comments is welcome to enlighten us.

“We gotta find it first.”

I can’t tell if that’s just dirt or if he hurt his head? But he look GOOD right now for one thing. For another, same outfit as the one in the Twinkie from the beginning of the trailer.

Look at her. LooK AT HER! LOOK! AT! HER! I MISSED HER SO MUCH even in that damn smiley face top that continues to haunt my waking hours she is in it so much and it stresses me out for literally no good reason I’m sorry-

I could literally cry right now and I think that speaks volumes to how little we actually see him genuinely happy. Have I mentioned how much I love that red hat?

Also, probably not that important, but this is not from the same scene as the shots of Pope and Kiara were. This is from the next one-

“Woogity-woogity?”

“Give me some woogity, baby!”

Yeah, this pushed me over the fucking edge, the way that they’re actually happy and laughing? The fact that they kept woogity-woogity and made it A Thing? Yes.

I am, however, going to be intentionally ignoring what appears to be the very intentional stagingof having such an obvious space between where Kiara and Pope are sitting adn where JJ sits, even including the level they’re sitting on because I don’t have the emotional capacity to face those implications right now. Thank you for your time.

Yes yeeeeEEEEEESSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!

GIVE ME ALL OF THE SCENES OF THEM ACTUALLY GETTING TO BE TEENAGERS AND JUST BREATHE AND LAUGH AND HAVE A GOOD TIME AND NOT BE RUNNING FOR THEIR FUCKING LIVES!!!!!!!!!!!

before Rafe comes in and literally starts shooting because they can’t breathe for more than 7 seconds but we’ll....get to that.

They refer to Sarah as a Pogue this season or I burn Netflix to the ground. Your move, Jonas.

50 bucks says John B is driving the Twinkie again for the first time since being back.

I deadass think the Pogues JUST got Sarah and John B back and they’re just having the time of their life. Kie was in her smiley face outfit when Pope was in this one a few clips ago, and I still hold to the belief that that one still they released of JJ and Kie hopping over a fence is the Pogue reunion so-

Ward? I have no idea what he’s looking at behind the wall paper and I’ll be so honest I don’t care my eyes are only seeing Pogue content right now.

“This is a map of the whole island.”

This fit, when will John B learn how to operate buttons, stay tuned for season 5. Also my previous theory of this being their reunion outfits and stuff because Pope is in the back in the same jacket as before.

The plot thickens and so has JJ’s hair, Rudy drop the shampoo brand.

Please, dear God, tell me they’re back in the sex church. For @jiaaraa sake.

Kiara, your Madison is showing.

Okay, I really did try but all I can make out is Something to the tomb begin something something.

You’re welcome.

I am no expert but I do not believe boats operate on land.

John B looks like he is in the same outfit here that is in his mug shot we saw on the TV screen so I have a sneaking suspicion this is where he gets caught. 

“John B is back-”

Once again with the damn sexual tension that’s always between Barry and Rafe in every scene they do are we about to kiss right now?

“-it’s him or me.”

First of all, no.

Second of all, I’m just....so very confused about this time line this season. It kind of looks like Ward and Rafe follow and find Sarah and John B in Nassau (unless those scenes by the truck were actually back in the OBX). So did they....go to Nassau, then just come right back when they did? I’m just confused.

Put that thing back where it came from or so help me.

Literally when will you stop at this point I am begging you. 

This looks like the same scene the Pogues were, ya know, literally just having a good time at so fuck me, I guess.

Yeah, no, it’s going to be a no from me, I’m just going to pretend like I’m not seeing this and moving on.

I have simply no idea what is going on here or who that is on the bike but maybe JJ? Maybe Luke even? I think that’s JJ’s bike. 

The sewer scene. The SEWER SCENE-

For months sicne that tiktok leaked this damn scene has been genuinely all I could think about. So (obviously) it seems like they’re sending Kie down into the sewer to go do seomthing and things go horribly, horribly wrong. 

If you haven’t seen the tiktok, essentially all it was was JJ and Pope screaming and trying to lift up the man hole cover while Kie is begging for them to hurry from inside. I’m cheating a little bit as this isn’t a shot from the trailer but this picture was posted and it’s from the same scene.

I’ll just....leave this here. Back to the trailer shots.

Nice. Also, same shirt as mugshot.

Hey, um, what? 

Kiara’s car, she’s driving, I can’t tell who’s in the back seat or the front.

Holy God what is going on and how can I as an audience member put a stop to it?

So, same scene as we will see and was in the teaser but, for some reason, they’re all jumping off of a giant ass boat into the little life raft where it looks like JJ gets hurt later but don’t you worry we’re getting to that.

JJ AND KIARA WITH THE POGUE HANDSHAKE JJ AND KIARA WITH THE POGUE HANDSHAKE THEY BOTH LOOK SO DAMN GOOD AND THEIR LITTLE SMILES SPARE ME-

Cleo 🥵

I’m so excited to see her arc and what it brings this season you guys have no idea.

Please for the love of God be about to get Ward Cameron’s ass like he deserves literally punt him into jail right from Tanny Hill.

Sarah at My Druther’s with what looks like a bloody bandage on her side? Same outfit she’s wearing when they’re running from the police on the beach and she has the bandage there too so. Interesting. 

Topper hugging who I’m pretty sure is Sarah, being a general douche because he’s clearly looking at John B like 😏 

Clips like these serve to remind me just how many of my worldly posessions I would gladly give up to be able to punch Topper Thorton in the throat one time. 

I think this is Cleo jumping off the boat with Pope after John B and Sarah. 

Absolutely busting a lung at Pope’s form in this one.

John B and Sarah waiting in the life raft, still Cleo and Pope coming after them. The obvious next question is where are JJ and Kiara. The scene I’m sure you all have been waiting for is coming up and clearly takes place in the life raft as well.

So, I really think JJ and Kie get left for last, something horrible happens as they’re trying to jump (my head instantly goes to JJ maybe like pushing Kie out of the way and getting hit on the head instead or even just some accident). 

And, oh my GOD a scene of him falling off the boat after it happens and Kiara diving in after him immediately, having to desperatly try to stop him from sinkingand get to the life raft holy shit-

Girl CATCH HIM?????

Because why wouldn’t this be Rafe’s fault. Part of me wonders if this isn’t related to JJ being hurt.

I am going to try and unpack this as calmly as possible because behind my computer screen I am vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass but respectfully.

WHAT IN THE FUCK IS TIAUEWFHLAILA

Okay, so scene wise, JJ’s hit his head somehow (probably while he was jumping with Kiara) it looks like and now they’re back on the raft. 

In my opinion, this is either:

A) JJ is in really, really bad condition after getting hurt in the jump and they’re not sure he’s going to make it. So this is a “Please stay with me, stay awake, please don’t die” hug OR

B) They very narrowly just avoided a deadly situation (my first thought is JJ hits his head while jumping, passes out in the water, maybe almost drowns but Kie and the others get him onto the life raft in time) and this is more of a “Oh my God, you’re okay, you’re safe now, we’re okay” hug. 

I honestly lean more to the second one based on the little bit of Sarah’s face we saw in the background. To me, it almost looked like she was smiling thru tears, which, fits way more with the second option than the first. 

Anyways. Moving on before I burst a lung again.

(also, before anyone comes at me, no, I’m not happy JJ is hurt, obviously.  

(Once again, arrest outfits). You can still see the bandage but it looks like Sarah’s limping now too so...good Lord give the girl a break maybe?

Everything in this trailer just went to shit so fast I think I have whip lash, can we go back to the Pogues hanging out and being happy now pkease I liked those scenes.

“I get it. You guys are scared.”

“No.”

She’s cute but, uh, hello sewer scene outfits. Seems like them planning to do whatever the hell they were going to do in the sewers but the boys are starting to get cold feet as maybe they should but hind sight is 20/20 I suppose.

“It’s kind of cute.”

“I’m not scared.”

“You should’ve just led with that.”

I will never be able to express how much I adore Pogue banter and general dumbassery and I have a feeling this season will not be lacking in either department

I high key don’t think these two are actually going to be there for this scene to go down but I’ll let it slide this time because-

They do be kinda cute.

It both feels like I’ve been waiting for this damn show for 3 years and also like I just watched season 1 last month explain that to me. 

Either way holy shit. I missed this dumb show and these dumb kids so much it physcially hurts and WE GET THEM BACK IN T-MINUS 16 DAYS.

Also. Where The Hell Is Wheezie Cameron And When Will She Have The Rights She Deserves.

#THIS LEGIT TOOK ME ALL DAY #AND I HAD A BLAST #im simply not ready #jiara nation how we feeling #UGH i missed them so much dude #outer banks season 2 #obx #long post #shot by shot rundown #jiara #the pogues #obx2 #john b routledge #pope heyward #sarah cameron #kiara carrera #jj maybank #jarah b #john b x sarah #jj maybank x kiara carrera #cleo #rafe cameron #topper thornton

[hnychn]

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄

pairing: poly! bakusquad x gn! reader

summary: why settle for one lover when you could have five? 

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 🐝: ugh i love the idea of all five of these assholes in one relationship !! it just makes my heart 😫. lmk what you thought of it, i appreciate any constructive criticism that'll help me improve 🤍 i'm also working on a shoto work next so!! PS. this ended up being a lot longer than i thought, so i'll be making it into diferent parts!

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 || 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞

ur their baby

sorry

don't make the rules 🤷🏻‍♀️

so first and foremost, how you became a part of their relationship.

surprisingly, it was bakugo who brought up the idea to the others 😳

you're not in 1a, but you are in the support class. you make them gadgets 😌

and bakugo met you when the last student who was supposed to be responsible for his costume design and other shit refused to work with bakugo anymore

that was the sixth guy to quit

so you offered to pick up his work 😌

otherwise the storyline wouldn't continue

so bakugo goes to you after school and is like, "listen here you fucking extra-"

and that's as far as he got before you interrupted him and was like:

"no yOU listen you hot-headed cyndaquil! the only reason you should be talking to me is if you want to submit a request for your costume. other than that, don't look at me. don't speak to me. don't even breathe near me. GOT IT?!"

and he was just. . .😳 damn

highkey thought your yelling was hot

so the weeks pass and surprisingly he listens to you and doesn't speak to you outside of making requests for his costume or giving feedback

and your relationship with him is relatively stable

you're not friends but you can live together without ripping each other apart

there's a term for it but i forget what it is

he starts coming by more often because there's a kink in one of your gadgets

so you ask him to stay after school to test it out and figure out what the problem is

you end up talking

and you realise he's not as much of an asshole as you thought he was

and your relationship turns into more of a "friendship" but not if that makes sense?

like, "ok so i don't hate you, but i still hate you."

does that make sense? i how it does

anyways,

the two of you start saying hi in the halls or nodding at each other

bakugo's babies see this and are like ??

yOU MADE A FREND??

yes. yes he did 😌

so kirishima and mina try and convince him to introduce them to you

"why would i introduce you to that dumbass? they're nothing special."

he doesn't mean it, he's just flustered.

so kirishima, mina, kaminari, and sero start looking out for you in the halls

and they start picking up on your routine

without knowing they basically know your schedule

it's bakugo who points it out when kirishima said it was time to go

🦈 "oh! it's time to go guys!"

💥 "why? lunch isn't even over yet"

⚡️ "y/n usually goes to that vending machine by their art class during this time"

💥 ". . . how do you fuckers know that?"

and they're all silent like. . . how do they know that?

that's when it hits then that without them knowing, you slipped your way into their heart

because here they were,

right next to the vending machine where you always go 20 minutes before lunch ended to get a small snack

and when you get there and see bakugo surrounded by a bunch of people looking at you with starry eyed

". . . hi?"

mina lunges at you and asks how the hell you tamed bakugo

"easy, i beat his ass."

"NO YOU DIDN'T YOU FUCKER!"

and you just snort at his reaction and put some coins into the vending machine

"why do you think your gauntlet backfired yesterday, dumbass?"

and he blanks like. . .wait. . . wAIT A MINUTE

"THAT WAS YOU?!"

you nod, "wish i was there to see it though."

and you pout

fUCKING.

POUT.

and they all just feel their heart go doki doki

so the bell rings for class to start and you say goodbye to them and kaminari promises to show you the video he took of bakugo's gauntlet backfiring tmr at lunch

and while they're walking to class, none of them are talking

which is very unusual

but they all know their thoughts are only of you

it's kind of like an unspoken agreement that they're all falling for you

they have a hard time paying attention in class that day.

OK NEXT DAY!!

so you rush over to the bakusquad and practically throw yourself at kaminari

because you wanna see that video

you don't notice he's a blushing mess and the others are staring a bit bitterly because

:I i want that

so he shows you the video and you start laughing so hard

and it's so contagious and soon they're all laughing

except bakugo because he refuses to laugh at himself

but they suddenly hear someone calling your name

and you all look over and see some guy who's also from general studies

they see you roll your eyes and mutter, "fucking hell" under your breath

so it's safe to assume you don't like this guy.

"hey l/n."

"hey tanaka. . ."

the boy shoves his hands in his pockets, "so about that date saturday-"

you might have slapped the bakusquad in the face with a fish because holy-

they never considered you were seeing anyone and now they're kinda heartbroken because oop-

caught feelings too quick 🙊

but you grind your teeth, "it's not a date tanaka. the teacher paired us up for a project because he knows you're so incapable of doing anything on your own you have to be watched like a child."

anD WHOO BOY THEY WERE NOT EXPECTING THAT

kaminari snorts a bit before slapping a hand over his mouth

mina grabs kirishima's arm and burries her face into his jacket to stifle her laughs

kirishima and sero and just staring at each other with wide eyes and slowly growing smiles like "bro did they just say that?" "dude i think they did!"

and bakugo. . .

he's staring at you with the proudest look in his eyes and a smirk because yeah, that's his baby

wait what.

now the boy is a bit embarrassed that you said that in front of some of the school's top heroes

so he sputters a bit before walking away with a red face

💥 "damn i didn't know you had that in you, spit fire."

you stare at him a bit with a small blush at the nickname

and you sputter out a thanks before making an excuse to leave (something about banana milk)

and they all stare at each other

⚡️ ". . .did they . ."

🦈 "was that a-"

🍊 "holy fuck that was-"

💥 "-adorable."

mina is took shocked to say anything

during this time, you bang to realise your feelings for the group as well

but you thought you were being selfish for wanting all five of them

so you kind of avoid them for the next few days in hopes of your feelings going away

you change up your schedule

and when you see them or one of then in the halls you turn around and go another direction

they were a bit confused as to what they did

but kirisima assured them that you were probably just working out your feelings and they should respect that

so they did

and they pretended it didn't hurt when you suddenly dart the other way when you see one of them

they gave you your space

and they thought you would come to them when you had everything worked out

until bakugo cane storming into the dorms one day

he was obviously pissed, but his eyes were also a bit glossy

so they all dragged him to kirishima's room since it was closest and asked him was was wrong

💥 "that dumbass quit from making my items."

and they were all kind of shocked

like wtf ??

uhm, for why?

you had assured bakugo that you wouldn't be another one of those losers who resigned because of his eccentric personality

and yet here we are

they spend the rest of the night in kirishima' room comforting bakugo

because he really took it the hardest

like sure the others liked you too,

but bakugo spent the most time with you

and developed a deeper relationship with you than the others

so the next day,

kirishima wants to talk to you

so he goes to the support room and bumps into hatsume as she was walking out

he asks her if you're in

"oh, yeah they are, I'll go get them for you."

this is a lot longer than i thought it would be uhhh oops

so you come out, not knowing it was kirishima asking for you because hatsume was vague

only telling you, "someone wants to talk to you"

like ok specifics??

anyways

you're like. . . oop heyyy. . .

because you knew what he was there for

the two of you don’t say anything for a bit

you’re just staring at your shoes and he’s looking at you with a small frown on his face 

lowkey he’s kinda disappointed in you

so he finally speaks first

“you quit.” 

it’s not a question, or something you were expecting 

but you nod 

there’s another silence 

“why?” 

you fiddle with your fingers for a bit. 

now this was a question you were expecting, though, you didn’t want to answer 

kirishima is a patient boy though, and waits for you to gather the courage to tell him 

he’s not leaving without an answer

“i just-” you begin, “i. . .” 

kirishima is still waiting patiently for your answer 

“i don’t want to be selfish.” 

now he surprised. wdym selfish. please explain.

“it’s just- you all already have such an established relationship and i don’t want to interrupt that. you guys have a schedule. adding myself into the mix would only mess all of that up, and no matter how strong my feelings are for all of you, i could never mess up your relationship like that. it would be so selfish of me to put my feelings before all of yours, so i thought the only way to get rid of these feeling as to distance myself from all of you...” 

“starting with bakugo...” kirishima whispered after your rambling came to an end. 

you nodded 

kiri was at a stand still for a bit 

and it was silent once again in the hall

kiri knew his lovers had feelings for you too, and would have no problem adding you into the relationship, 

but he also knew he couldn’t fore you into anything 

he was about to reassure you that you wouldn’t be interrupting anything and that they would love to have you in the relationship 

but then you were tackled 

to the ground 

by kaminari 

and smacked your head against the floor

really hard

like, you passed out 

ahaha. . .

when you wake up, your head feels like it’s going to split open

and the loud voices aren’t helping 

so you let out a groan, “shut the fuck up...” 

and everything goes silent. 

until someone SCREAMS AGAIN

“YOU’RE AWAKE!” 

it’s kaminari 

bless his soul

poor baby is a bit slow 

so you groan out again and clutch your head

bakugo slaps the back of kaminari’s head

“shut the fuck up, dunce face!” 

he whisper shouts

mina hands you some pain killers recovery girl said you give you when you woke up, and sero hands you a glass of water 

they’re all watching you as you take the pills 

it’s silent for a bit 

and it’s making you anxious, so you fiddle with the empty glass for a bit before bakugo snatches it from you, 

“dumbass...” he muttered as he refilled it and handed it back to you

sero rubs the back of his head, “so...” 

mina pulls at the hem of her sweater, “we heard everything you said to kirishima.” 

kaminari sits next to you on the bed and whispers, “sorry for tackling you. i just got a bit emotional...” 

I'm so sorry this is getting so long 😭😭 i'm trying to wrap this up so if it gets a bit jumbled, my bad

so they all reassyre you you're more than welcome into their relationship and wouldn't be interfering with anything

so you agree

and they're all so happy 🥳🥳

and while everyone is celebrating

(quietly because your head still feels like shit)

bakugo comes up to you

"you better start making my items again, dumbass. those other dipshits in your class don't know what they're doing."

bakugo only said that because they weren't you but he'd never outright say that to you

OK ITS OVER OH MY

IT GOT SO LONG IM SO SORRY LMAO

#imagines #mha #bakugo imagine #mha imagines #bakugo katsuki #bakugo katuski x reader #angst #mha headcanons #headcanons #mina x reader #kirishima x reader #kaminari x reader #sero x reader #mha poly #poly bakusquad #bakugo x reader

[drakenology]

boyfriend number 2

- hinata shoyo x fem!reader x miya osamu

minors dni.

warnings: 18+ content, smut, infidelity, exhibitionism (yall already know lol), degradation, dumbification/incoherence, cussing, raw sex, mentions of cum, raunchy hook up, poor unsuspecting boyfriend

Every day of the week you’re subjected to a routine. The same routine you’d been living since high school. With the same boy since high school.

Sure, Hinata was quite possibly the perfect boyfriend. He was sensitive and attentive, so sweet you almost felt sick. But in bed.. well he did his best. Always cumming a bit too quickly, nearly finishing you off or not even driving you close to an orgasm. You’d lost count of the amount of times you’ve faked it with him and with him being as sweet as he is Hinata didn’t suspect a thing. But you loved him, really you did. Hopefully, eventually, you could teach him how to please you.

But every so often, every now and again you found yourself with someone else. Sure it was wrong, but it was just different with him. With Osamu. Osamu was the hot volleyball player from out of town you had met one foggy night at the bar. It was supposed to be a one time thing, you swore to yourself.

But with the way he fucked you that night, you found yourself coming back for more everytime. You swore with every orgasm came a high you could never get with Shoyo. When you felt that ache of need, that dull feeling in your dissatisfied cunt when Shoyo went home for the night, you knew exactly who to call. And Osamu always answered, always so ready and willing to give you a filling the right way.

Not to mention he was insatiable, every spot left untouched and wavering would then be caressed, licked, sucked on, fucked. You’ll never forget the times he made you cum so hard, the cops were called from the concerning sound of your high pitched whines and sobs.

Eventually, his neighbors stopped calling when you came over, knowing that when you come over in your pajamas and an over night bag hanging over your shoulder as you happily knock on his door meant you’d be getting your insides flipped about 7 different ways in about a half hour.

Just like usual, Hinata flops next to you in bed. His chest heaves after another “wild” night with his pretty girlfriend who seemed to enjoy herself too. He peppered kisses along your shoulders and up to your ear and whispered a sweet I love you. You smile and close your eyes, sleeping in your boyfriends arms as he followed right behind you.

-bzzzt bzzzt-

Who could be texting you at this hour? You sit up groggily, squinting your eyes at the bright screen of your phone as you pick it up. It was Osamu.

“Be ready in 30, tell your boyfriend you’re goin out ;).” The text read, a familiar feeling in your chest starting to brew as you bit your lip. You slowly slip out of Hinata’s grasp and kiss his forehead, tip toeing around his room to find your clothes and all your belongings.

Just as promised, Osamu arrived in 30 minutes, honking his horn ignorantly as if it wasn’t about 12 o’clock in the fucking morning. You rushed downstairs about as quietly as you could and practically ran towards his car, jumping inside to escape the cold rain.

He drives back to his place with his hand on your inner thigh, his thumb caressing the flesh as his other hand turned the steering wheel. You knew running off with another guy behind your boyfriend’s back was wrong, but why did it feel so right every time you did it? Osamu had everything Hinata didn’t; passion with an attentive and doting nature.

Besides the bedroom, he made you feel like you were the sexiest thing walking. He was exciting and wild and unpredictable. Everything you didn’t know you needed until you started fucking him a month ago.

Even as you kiss Osamu’s lips pinned up against his apartment door, even as your clothes are casted aside all throughout modest space, you still think of Hinata and how much this would crush him if he ever found out. But when Osamu was inside you, shit, who the hell was Hinata? Osamu hoists you over his shoulder, walking into his bedroom with a firm smack on your ass before laying you down on the bed.

“Mm, I missed you, Osamu.” You purr, arching into his body as he kissed and sucked on your neck.

“Ditto.” He mumbled, pulling your panties off when you lift your ass to help him take them off. His hands make their way to your already dripping cunt, clit swollen from the denied orgasm you were forced to endure just moments before coming here.

“What is that motherfucker doing to you, huh?” He asks, apologetically rubbing tender circles on the puffy bud. You yelp, so sensitive your thighs start shaking a little. “Bet he doesn’t even know what this is, does he baby?” You mewl in response, the pleasure going straight to your brain.

Osamu smirks at you, rubbing his fingers along your slit to relish in your wetness, your aching pussy practically gushing for him to do anything to you.

“You get so wet for me, princess. You get this wet for your little boyfriend?” He questions, hooking his fingers inside you to prod at your softest spots. You attempt to answer, shaking your head and letting out a shaky “uh-uh” as he fucks you with his fingers. Osamu kissed you sloppily, moaning into your mouth as his fingers moved faster, the sound of your pussy sucking in his fingers causing his cock to make less room for him in his pants.

Your back arched off the bed, panting as his tongue lapped up your clit, his fingers hooking deliciously against your spongiest spots. His name was written on your lips, the only thing you can say before your stomach is in knots, pathetic moans leaving the pit of your chest as you feel yourself getting oh so close to cumming all over Osamu’s handsome face.

“I-I’m cumming, hnnnn fuck!” You scream, your slick dripping all over Osamu’s hand. He moans against you, pulling you closer as he suckled on your puffy clit. With a high pitched squeal, your coming undone, your thighs closing around his head as you pant heavily.

Osamu’s smirking against your skin before pulling away, wrapping his big hand around your throat and kissing you hotly. Your tongues swirl, moaning against each other as Osamu pulls out his heavy length.

Another thing Hinata lacks. Osamu’s cock always had you feeling so full, the perfect size to get you drooling. His girth alone was impressive, thick veins, the cherry on top. Don’t even get me started on those heavy balls, the ones that swing and slap at your already aching clit with every thrust of his hips. He ran his length along your dripping folds, tapping his perfect head against your clit as your hiss and writhe underneath him, desperate to feel full.

“Want it baby?” He asks, prodding himself at your desperate hole. You nod feverishly, rambling on about how badly you wanted to feel full, how much you wanted to feel him throbbing inside you. Of course your dirty mouth grants you your wish, Osamu’s cock stretching you with a slow motion.

“‘S so fuckin’ tight, baby. Gimme that pussy.” He moans, rutting his hips into yours, hands holding up your thighs to reach deep. You’re sobbing, tears falling onto the pillow beneath you as you let out breathy moans. Osamu’s mouth stop ghosting over yours to sit on his haunches, reaching over and grabbing something.

“Phone for you.” Osamu whispers, handing it to you, not halting his hips for no one. You grab it, darting your eyes at him as his dick kissed your cervix.

“H-Hello?” You croon, trying to sound like you’re half asleep.

“Y/N? Did you go home? Where’d you go?” You hear Hinata ask, unable to answer right away as your mouth hangs open at the searing hot pleasure Osamu’s cock brought you.

“I-I.. Yes. Sorry I didn’t wake you. I just- ah.. didn’t feel well.” You lie, biting your lip and rubbing soft circles on your sensitive clit as Osamu fucks your harder.

“Well, you coulda stayed over. I would have taken care of you.” Shoyo lectured, your mind not even fixated on what he’s saying to you.

You nod as if he could see you, looking up at Osamu with pleading eyes, his thumb replacing your fingers as he played with your clit.

“Go on, baby. Tell ‘em you’re about to cream all over my fuckin’ dick.” Osamu huffs, almost loud enough for Hinata to hear. You chew at your bottom lip, eyes rolling back as Osamu works you open with his cock, hearing Hinata say something hoping you feel better.

The pleasure was too much, your mouth drooling as your lips formed an o-shape. Osamu laughs, realizing you’re way too dumb to rush Hinata off the phone. So he does it for you, like the nice guy he is.

“She’ll call back later. She’s too busy taking my cock to talk right now.” He says before hanging up, turning off your ringer and returning to his work on your cervix.

You blink away tears, throat hurting from all the screaming and whimpering as you approach another mind blowing orgasm.

“Hnnn, fuck, Osamu yes. Your cock’s so fucking big. Need it to make me cum, fuck! Hah shit!” You mewl, wrapping your legs around his strong waist.

“Yeah? Ooo that little fucker has no idea what this feels like, huh princess? Give it to me baby. Fuckin give it to me.” Osamu urged, eager to feel your gummy walls clamp down around him and milk him for every ounce of his cum as he brutally slammed his hips down into you.

“You’re my little whore, yeah? Like it when another man fucks your greedy pussy? Such a dirty slut. Say you’re a dirty slut.”

“I’m a dirty slut, Ah! I-I’m your dirty slut, ‘Samu. Uhhnnn!” The last thing you say before clenching around Osamu’s size, his cock throbbing furiously before erupting in white hot globs of his cum.

It was all so filthy, so raunchy and so wrong. Guilt was the furthest thing from your conscience though, laying limp and half asleep as Osamu pulled out and went to grab a towel to clean up. How could something so erotic be wrong.

You’d call Hinata tomorrow, try and explain everything when the time was right. But for now, you’d just lay there in your stupor, high off the euphoric orgasms you’ve experienced just then.

Tomorrow you’d make it right, even though it probably never could be.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu osamu #osamu smut #haikyuu hinata #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu #haikyuu hinata shoyo #haikyuu osamu miya #haikyuu osamu x reader

[wherethewordsare]

a. I have accidentally unfollowed you because Tumblr puts buttons too close together.

b. I have A PROMPT. Specifically from your list of 50. 8 and/or 21. I just want something soft from you.

a: I love you <3

b: thank you @softnerdypeter for beta reading this for me <3

21. Blind date set up by friends

Oh, It’s You

Eskel had cornered Geralt in the firehouse kitchen. Again. This time with that look that used to trick Geralt into the worst trouble when they were kids. 

“Don’t automatically say no,” Eskel said with a laugh. 

“No.” Geralt turned to hide his smile. 

“Geralt, she’s really pretty though. And she has this friend that apparently has been moping and she said she’d feel better if he also had a date.” Eskel walked around the table and took Geralt’s plate, holding it away. “Besides, you’ve been moping too and you refuse to ask that musician out even though you know damn well-”

“Fine, I’ll go, but you don’t get to berate me after this. One date. That’s it. Then you leave me be,” he growled, snatching his plate back, sending his cherry tomatoes rolling onto the floor. He only glared at his brother when he laughed. 

“Alright, Wolf. Just bring your most sunny personality to the fair Friday.” Eskel chuckled as he bent down, scooping up the tomatoes and tossing them into the sink. He strolled away, looking all too much like the cat that caught the canary.

“You’re taking my shift on the dunk tank!” Geralt shouted after him with a shake of his head. “Bastard.” 

He hated how fast his phone was in his hand to text Jaskier. 

Es finally trapped me into a blind date. Fucker. 

Within a second, a message that didn’t feel like a response popped up on his screen. 

I have a date on Friday? my friend set it up. I kinda don’t wanna go. 

Geralt tried to ignore the way his gut twisted at the idea of Jaskier going out with someone else. He wasn’t sure what to say back. It wasn’t like he didn’t also have a date that night. His phone buzzed again in his hand, showing an incoming call. 

“She said his name is Gary!” Jaskier whined. There was a clattering in the background and Geralt leaned against the counter. He could close his eyes and see Jaskier making his lunch. “Who names their kid Gary? I bet he’s hideous!” There was a huff. 

“I guess this means we’ll have to cancel movie night?” Geralt hummed as he bit into a fork full of salad, sans tomatoes. “But who knows,” Geralt winced only because he knew Jaskier couldn’t see, “the guy might surprise you?” 

There was a gasp on the other end of the line. “You wanna stand up our dates and just meet up for a movie anyways?” Jaskier laughed but the sound died quickly. “Unless you’re looking forward to the date.” There was something like disappointment in his voice that could have only been chalked up to missing out on the movie and shitty take-out. 

“I would, but Eskel would kill me,” Geralt reasoned with a hum. 

“You’re gonna get a play-by-play of how terrible this guy is,” Jaskier promised with a laugh. There was a bang and a curse. “Ah shit, my frittata! I gotta go.” The line was dead before Geralt could say anything else. 

He tried to ignore the way his chest tightened as he shoved another bite into his mouth. He was almost glad when the firehouse alarm went off. 

Friday came quickly. He rode to the fair with Eskel, who was chatting more than usual, clearly nervous about his date with the nurse he couldn’t seem to get over since the last time he ended up in the ER with a burn. 

Geralt couldn’t blame him, really. Anything that made his brothers happy was fine by him, but he wished that he didn’t have to hear the same story about Eskel finally asking her out again. It was just a constant reminder that he still hadn’t swallowed his pride enough when it came to Jaskier. 

“Where am I supposed to be?” Geralt managed to ask, his arms crossed over his chest as they pulled into the dirt lot. 

“There’s a ticket booth towards the center. I think she told him to meet you there,” Eskel was checking his hair in the mirror again and only stopped when he caught Geralt rolling his eyes. “Listen, we can’t all be as pretty as you,” he shot across the bench.

“Finally, something you’ve said that makes sense,” he snorted. He climbed out of the truck and shut the door on Eskel before he could make a comeback. 

It was still early, so the fairgrounds weren’t crowded just yet. He was thankful for that at least. The place would be packed before too long. He was already coming up with reasons to cut the night short as he leaned against the back of the booth, his phone in hand. He was making an attempt not to text Jaskier. He didn’t want to interrupt his date, even if he wasn’t looking forward to it.

Geralt pulled up their conversation anyways, scrolling through as he realized that he wasn’t even sure where Jaskier was going tonight. 

“Geralt?” There was a pair of dusty converse in front of him. 

He looked up and his heart sank for a moment. Jaskier was standing there, his bright eyes catching the lights from the ferris wheel. Geralt wasn’t looking forward to having to actually watch him on his date. There had been too many nights at too many bars where he watched Jaskier flirt with everyone. Almost everyone.  

“What are you doing here, Jask?” He half flinched as he realized how gruff he had sounded. Geralt looked around, expecting to see someone coming to collect Jaskier but there was no one else there. 

“Oh,” Jaskier whispered softly. A series of emotions flew across his face all at once before he simply beamed at Geralt. “Oh!” He was laughing then, leaning into Geralt’s personal space. “Gary,” he cackled. 

He scowled at Jaskier, but then it also dawned on him and he huffed. “Oh. It’s you,” he hummed, looking around. He wondered remotely if Eskel had done this on purpose. His date was Jaskier. Or it was supposed to be. 

Maybe, he shuffled from foot to foot for a moment, maybe it still could be. 

“Well, I know I’m not nearly as good looking as this Gary was supposed to be,” Geralt mused, “but maybe we could still…” He gestured around them vaguely. 

Jaskier looked up at him again, those same emotions Geralt couldn’t read from before flitting across his face before his eyes softened. He stepped forward, sliding his arm into Geralt’s with a smile. “Far more handsome than anyone I could have imagined, dear heart.” He gave Geralt’s arm a little squeeze. “Buy me a caramel apple and tell me you like my shirt?” Jaskier teased. 

Geralt snorted as he moved them forward. “You mean my shirt you stole?” He didn’t miss the way Jaskier fell in step beside him, their arms still linked. 

“Next time don’t leave your laundry in my dryer,” Jaskier chuckled. Then he was looking down as he pulled them both to a stop for a moment in the middle of the fairway. “Geralt, just so I’m clear-”

“This is a date,” Geralt blurted before he could stop himself. “I… if you want it to be.” Part of him wanted to pull away. He’d done it now and there was no going back. He had known Jaskier for three years and for a moment he thought it crash down around him. Jaskier only smiled back at him, looking relieved. 

“Yeah, yeah I do. But only if-” he started.

“Caramel apple.” Geralt raised an eyebrow, smirking. 

“Date it is then.” Jaskier let himself be led around the fair, always touching Geralt as they went. 

It felt nice, having the weight and warmth beside him as the early autumn air started to set in. 

They found themselves in front of the dunk tank where Eskel was sitting up on the platform, that smirk of his still firmly in place. 

He had known! Geralt huffed and glared at his brother. He was leaning out of the tank slightly to high-five a slender woman with dark hair. She looked over and waved to Jaskier with a smile. 

“Hey, do you want the horse or the alien stuffie?” He asked as he marched up to the booth. He watched with a grin as Eskel’s own smile dropped. “You know what, I’ll win you both.” 

Jaskier only looked at him with confusion then glanced across. “Oh. Were we played?” He sounded smug as he handed Geralt his own tickets. 

Geralt landed not only the first shot, but the next three after, sending Eskel plunging down into the water below. When he handed Jaskier both of the rewards he was passed a caramel apple already missing a bite. 

Three years suddenly seemed to hinge on the moment as he took the apple and leaned forward, past the oversized head of the alien in Jaskier’s arm. He pressed a kiss to the corner of Jaskier’s mouth, slow enough that he could have pulled away. 

Jaskier didn’t pull away. Instead, he turned his face and let their mouths slot together more firmly, smiling all the while. 

“Took you long enough,” he pulled away just enough to murmur before pressing in again. 

“Movie night tomorrow?” Geralt asked when they finally broke apart. He felt like he was vibrating in his boots. 

“It’s a date.” 

It certainly was going to be, Geralt decided. He’d make sure it would be a good one too.

#geraskier #modern au #blind date #prompt fill #jay writes #for my darling love #kuri i hope you like this

[dr3amofagame]

idk why but i imagined vegas 2.0 as two soccer moms (the politics bois) trying to outdo each other while their sons are dragged into it (green bois) in a rlly fvcked way. e.g.

maybe big q reconsidering dream's usefulness by saying sam's enough as protection and has other things to offer to the team as well. wilbur steps in by suggesting a duel between sam and dream then, to prove it then. maybe while it happens, wilbur whispers to quackity a list of what is still physically broken abt dream post prison (so many unhealed bones, barely healed muscle, he can barely stomach food so he had like 1 steak in the past few days, etc.) and of course, he mentions dream's most powerful asset, the revive book :)

-🐇

LMAOO

this is hilarious and also accurate as hell ,, thank you anon because the image of c!wilbur and c!quackity as PTA moms is completely sending me. this prompt (as most vt2 related things are) was really fun !! it also kinda ran away from me, which is why this ended up being almost 6k words instead of my usual 1-2k for asks, but i hope you enjoy it regardless :]

tws: implied torture/abuse, death, violence, blood, injuries, conditioning, dehumanization, panic attacks, emotional distress, trauma, unhealthy relationships (so many unhealthy relationships), smoking, dark contents, dark themes, vt2 au is always really dark so definitely proceed with caution !! dark portrayals of c!quackity, c!sam, c!wilbur, and c!dream

It starts, as many things do nowadays, with a board meeting - which seems to be as much of a sign as any that everything is going to go to shit. Board meetings for Quackity, much like Wilbur’s stupid group therapy sessions, are just a thinly veiled attempt for the two to fight for control of pretty much everything - ranging from the casino schedules to the laws still being written for Las Nevadas to what food to stock in the vending machines. As Sam is still sitting on his false throne of moral superiority and therefore less inclined to indulge himself in the same blatant corruption that characterizes their discussions, and Dream - more than anything - knows his place (which hardly gives him any position to wrangle for power among the likes of Wilbur and Quackity), the fights for control more or less remain restricted between the two. More often than not, they devolve into proving their superiority over the other by using their control of Dream (which naturally never means anything remotely good for him as a consequence) so when Quackity strolls over, all tight-lipped smiles and a cigarette held between clenched fingers, Dream really doesn’t feel anything other than dread.

Still, orders by Quackity are still orders - Dream knows this fact better than he knows that he’s alive and breathing, better than the fact that he’s out of the prison, better than he knows his own goddamn name - and Dream is far too well-trained to ever consider trying to rebel. So when the time comes - 7:30 pm, sharp - Dream is in his chair, spine straight and head alert like a goddamn dog, and he waits.

It doesn’t take long for the others to arrive. Sam comes over first, leveling him with a heavy, distrustful stare as he sits down in the chair across from Dream, the expression nearly enough for Dream to roll his eyes if it weren’t for the fear that rockets through him, still, at the sight of the Warden so close to him. Sam has made it more than clear from the very beginning that he has no trust at all for Dream, that if he had his way then Dream would be locked up for the rest of eternity in a labyrinth of blackstone and obsidian, forever guarded by his ever-present supervision. Dream feels his ears burning with heat as he dips his eyes low to the surface of the table, wanting no more than to curl up and hide under the scrutiny of the Warden’s glare.

Quackity enters next, throwing open the door of the conference room loud enough to make Dream jump out of his seat, looking at him with an upturned corner of his lip when he comes back to himself enough to notice. Dream stifles a shudder at his visible good mood, all-too-aware of what that usually meant for him in the cell, stiffening further with a growing ringing to his ears as Sam and Quackity talk and Quackity sweeps past his side to get to his seat at the head of the table, carelessly brushing his fingers along the back of Dream’s neck in a way that makes him freeze, stock-still, in his chair - feeling his fingertips ease themselves over the ridge present there from a thick band of scar tissue, a deep, jagged thing that had been carved from the blunter back edge of Quackity’s axe when he had lost his temper and let the thing slam against the back of his neck, hard enough that it probably would’ve paralyzed him completely if it weren’t for Sam’s use of almost a full chest of regens. Quackity remains over him for a few more seconds, leaning over his chair to talk to Sam as he runs a light, possessive hand over the topmost bumps of Dream’s spine, before settling over into his chair, watching him with a small smirk as he keeps a white-knuckled grip on the edge of the table.

Dream hates the prickling shame and terror that keeps his muscles tense as he stares at the table’s surface, still feeling the ghost of fingers tracing over skin and bone along the back of his neck, keeps his burning eyes trained on the surface of solid wood as he tries to steady his breaths. It’s all he can do to press down his flinch when Quackity, with a frustrated yell, slams his fist against the table a few minutes later, rage simmering underneath his words as he speaks.

“Where the hell is Wilbur?” His glare slides across the room, landing on Dream, making him shrink back in his seat, heart thudding in his ears. Quackity doesn’t stop staring at him even as he pulls a cigarette and lighter from his pants pocket, lighting it and bringing it to his lips and letting the silver-grey threads of smoke fill the room and press against the inside of Dream’s lungs. “It’s ten minutes til 8 - I don’t have time for this bullshit.”

Sam digs his fingers into his temples, already looking exhausted. “If you want, Q, we can always start without him and catch him up later. Depends on you.”

“No, then I’ll have to repeat myself and it’ll be pointless and ugh,” Quackity makes a vaguely frustrated noise as he finally turns his eyes over to Sam, making Dream’s shoulders shudder as he finally finds the air to take a breath, “We’ll just have to wait. Fucking idiot. I knew I shouldn’t have worked with any of these fuckers.”

In true Wilbur fashion, it isn’t until fifteen minutes later when the taller man finally makes an appearance, the entire time tense as hell as Quackity takes slow, steady drags of his cigarette and taps his fingers impatiently against the table’s surface. He offers one to Sam, who goes on to decline, making a short quip telling Quackity to watch his health for the future that promptly falls flat. Dream thinks he’s a fucking hypocrite, considering his whole deal with weednip or whatever Ant has on him, but doesn’t voice the thoughts as he sinks down in his chair, wishing more than anything to disappear. Against the fabric of his shirt, the right side of his chest itches, and he presses his palm against the place where he knows there is a small, irregular grid of pockmarked scars from when Quackity had taken smoke breaks in the middle of sessions.

“There you all are,” Wilbur smiles as he slides into the room, a covered metal tray held in his hands as he kicks the door closed and slides the tray onto the table with an awful screech. “I’m sorry for being late,” he continues, sounding not very sorry at all, “but I made some food to make up for it!”

He takes off the cover with a flourish; underneath, sunny yellow squares, nearly blindly bright, look up blankly under the conference room’s overly harsh lighting. They smell sugary and vaguely sour, stinging his nose slightly, and seem to be coated with a fine dusting of powdered sugar.

“Lemon bars!” Wilbur grins, just left of sincere, “they’re gluten-free!”

“God,” Quackity laughs, sounding slightly incredulous, shaking his head. Dream’s gut rolls at the sound, Wilbur’s smile growing wider, even more dangerous, at the tone. It’s familiar, the way the two of them challenge each other, and in a rare moment of solidarity Dream watches from the corner of his eyes as Sam’s shoulders hunch as well. The two of them always bring trouble, even normally, but when they’re in this mood? Actively challenging each other, toeing the line, trying to find the limits and push them just because they can? Dream shivers in his seat, grip tightening on his own arms; this, he knows, is when they are at their most dangerous - and he has the scars to prove it.

“Gluten-free, huh? Really leaning into the whole ‘PTA mom’ schtick today, aren’t you?” Quackity smirks. “Should I call you Linda from now on?”

“I don’t know, Quackity, I was just thinking that I would make a little healthier treat for all of us, you know?” Wilbur brushes off the remark easily, taking a seat and immediately kicking his feet up onto the table. “If you want it, of course. I would hardly want to get in the way of your professionalism, Mr. President- do you have one of those? Or are you going for a more authoritarian approach”

“Fighting words from someone who rigged an election as President,” Quackity drawls, “and couldn’t even win it, might I add. “

“Oh, Big Q! You fail to understand, I wasn’t criticizing you at all,” Wilbur smiles, jagged, “we agree, I believe, on the failures of democracy. Unless you’ve forgotten our conversation, already?”

“Of course not,” Quackity snorts, and Dream doesn’t miss how his gaze shifts towards the side of the room, landing on Dream and making him curl further in his seat. “I’ll save you from me trying to pick your brain, this time, but don’t worry. You make yourself…rather hard to forget.”

Wilbur claps, seeming satisfied with this round of verbal sparring, and the sharp sound of his hands meeting together nearly has Dream jumping in his seat. “So! Lemon bars- does anyone want any?”

Dream is keenly aware of two pairs of eyes landing on him, Wilbur and Quackity watching for his reaction with bated breath and narrowed eyes. Panic crawls up his throat; he knows the purpose behind their stares, knows that he’s once again become the object of one of their power struggles. Quackity’s orders rattle in his brain, his thoughts a messy jumble of pins all knocked loose from his time in the prison, hopelessly unorganized and running on little more than instinct. Wilbur is expecting him to eat, to give into his sweet pastries and sweeter words; the lesson not to eat, move, think without permission, hammered into him between chunks of potato and battered ribs and blood gathered in the crevices of his skin, keeps his hands at his sides instead of reaching towards the pastries still set in the middle of the table. Even with Quackity at the opposite side of the room, Dream swears that he can still feel the pressure of a hand against the back of his neck, pressing just hard enough to make itself known from the feeling of fingers pressing into either side of his spine - he doesn’t even quite feel himself shaking his head, only really realizes what he’s done when he hears Wilbur sigh in frustration and meets Quackity’s satisfied gaze.

“I’ll take one,” Sam says, sounding exhausted, eyes flitting from Wilbur to Quackity to Dream with an increasingly long-suffering expression. His face twists around the first bite of the bright yellow pastry, nose scrunching as he puts it down, missing a half-moon bite along one corner, and drags his fingers over the table to ease off the remnants of powdered sugar. Wilbur watches him, seeming amused, and Quackity rolls his eyes as he pulls a binder out of his inventory.

“Now that everyone is finally here,” he starts, directing a particularly dead-eyed stare at Wilbur, “we can finally get on with the meeting. I was thinking we could go over the budget, today, if that’s alright with the rest of you.”

It sounds innocent enough - which is the first sign of many that this meeting, whatever it is, is going to be anything but pleasant. The grin that steadily grows on Quackity’s face does nothing to assuage Dream’s anxieties, only pushing them higher as the man flips open the binder and messes with it for a few seconds longer before seemingly finding what he’s looking for.

“I think we all know that until Sam finishes with the bank, funds around here are going to be a little bit tight,” Quackity begins, waiting for all of them to nod before continuing, “And we really need to save wherever we can. I recounted the budget yesterday, just to make sure that we’re all on track, and- well,”

Quackity points to a circled series of red numbers that Dream doesn’t understand but can assume mean little good for them. Sam makes a low, considering noise, sounding strangely concerned, and Wilbur actually seems to close his mouth and lean forward in curiosity.

“We have a deficit,” Quackity continues when they’ve all settled back into their seats, “and we’ll get it all back once Sam gets the bank up and running, but for now our funds are...limited. I don’t want to stop progress on Las Nevadas, of course, we really don’t have time to waste. So I thought we’d have a meeting today to discuss the budget and eliminate any expenses that we might find-” Quackity gestures with a smooth twirl of his wrist, “expendable.”

Sam hums. “Do you have anything in mind, Quackity?”

“A few,” Quackity flips to the next page, where he’s seemingly jotted a few notes - different things that they can put off for the moment, it seems, and the money that would be saved for forgoing them temporarily. Dream reads down the list quickly, stilling at the last item.

“Quackity,” Sam sounds twenty times more tired already when he speaks, tone flat and a little irritated. “Why is Dream on the list?”

Quackity shrugs. “Hear me out, now- most of our money right now is going into living expenses for the four of us. Having more people here, until everything becomes more sustainable, is a huge drain on our resources. I’m just listing all our options.”

“So what do you want to do?” Sam huffs. “Throw him back in Pandora?”

Quackity shakes his head.

“Wilbur does have the revive book knowledge, you know,” he says, and Dream’s blood runs cold. He can’t run, can’t move; he’s stuck in his seat, heart hammering faster in his chest as the other three hardly spare him a second glance. Sam purses his lips, a considering expression flashing over his face, as Quackity presses on. “Seriously- listen, Sam. There’s nothing that Dream is really offering, at the moment, that the rest of us can’t handle. Wilbur has the revive book, you can act as security to take out any threats - really, we shouldn’t be pissing anyone off until everything officially opens, and we can always retrieve him then when we need him. He’ll be out of the way, which means he won’t be able to start any fucking trouble,” Quackity laughs, short. “It’s a win-win.”

“I don’t know, Quackity,” Sam says, the words slow, but the tone is familiar enough for Dream to know that he’s already mostly given in. “It’s a risk, isn’t it? None of us but Dream have really used the revive book, before.”

Wilbur doesn’t even look at him when he chirps a reply. “That won’t be a problem, Sam. I’d be very happy to test it out, if you want.”

Quackity leans forward, and Dream nearly gags; he’s preening in his spot, eyes dancing as he smiles up at Sam. “Anything else you can think of?”

“I don’t know,” Sam trails off, and Dream looks down, only barely staving off the panic squeezing around his lungs and tears burning in his eyes. It’s nothing he hasn’t envisioned before, nothing he hasn’t expected, but this- he feels like such a fool, for hoping- “If we get ambushed, Q, I really don’t know if gear is going to be enough. You remember what Technoblade did last time.”

Quackity huffs, sounding annoyed, but nods to concede the point. “That is...fair. But then again, we don’t exactly know how good Dream is either, do we?” Quackity finally leans over to look at him, and Dream feels himself choke on his own breath at the dangerous gleam in Quackity’s eyes, all-too-familiar in their scrutiny, looking at him the same way they had pinned him to the floor of his obsidian-walled hell. “Anything to say, Dream?”

“I-” The words shake on Dream’s tongue, and he only barely manages a dry swallow as he struggles through the rest of his sentence, shrinking back from the heavy weight of three pairs of eyes fixed on his own, “I can be useful, s-” he only barely manages to bite down the word, a new wave of shame making him shrink back further past the fear. Quackity’s lip twitches upward.

Wilbur twirls a pencil in one hand, looking spectacularly bored; Dream’s chest shrieks with a harsh spike of envy at his composure. “How about you prove it?” His eyes are laughing when Dream gets a good look at them, amusement clear at the idea. “Put on a show?”

Quackity rolls his eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

“You want to know if Sam can serve as an adequate replacement for Dream’s combat prowess, no?” Wilbur leans back in his chair as he talks, still focused on spinning his pencil over and between his fingers, “Why doesn’t he prove it? Let them duel, one on one. If Sam kills Dream, then you’re right, we’re done, and we can all move on with our days. If Dream wins, then he’s proved his worth, and we can figure out the rest of the budget after. What do you think?”

Quackity’s lips press together, seeming displeased, but he doesn’t say anything in return. Sam, ever practical, drums his fingers against the table.

“That sounds...fair,” Sam purses his lips. “How would we judge this? Equal gear?”

Wilbur only smiles wider as he shakes his head. “I was thinking we would make it a little more accurate to reality, if Dream’s services were truly to be needed. Sam, you can keep your own gear, and Dream should use his own. I guess on your end we can fight until you yield, but for him…”

The words are left unsaid, but Dream flexes his hands underneath the table as he catches onto the implications. For him, it’s a fight to the death.

Sam shrugs. “That works for me. Dream?”

He doesn’t really have a choice, does he? “Okay.”

“Wonderful!” Wilbur claps, bringing his hands to his chest and looking thoroughly thrilled at the prospects of the potential duel. Quackity glares at Dream but doesn’t say a word, and Dream hunches into himself, nearly folding himself in half as he ducks as far as he can down his seat. Sam pulls out his sword, flipping it around and testing its weight, and Dream doesn’t quite manage to suppress his full-body shudder at the sight. “Let’s get started, then.”

They move out in a roughly single-file line out of the conference room, Wilbur making idle chatter as Sam continues to examine his armor and weapons as they walk. They settle into an open space in the still-unfinished casino that Wilbur looks around for a second and then deems appropriate for the duel. Sam sets down an enderchest to gather his necessary materials, and Dream settles in front of it himself afterwards, shifting the lid open with shaking hands as he tries to work through his inventory.

He’s started the process of building up his gear again in his spare time, but he’s not had the time to finish gathering netherite for both himself and Wilbur - Wilbur meets his eyes with a sly wink before equipping the set of netherite armor that Dream had crafted for him, and Dream stifles a desperate snarl. He doesn’t even have the other set (still a gleaming blue from unplated diamond) enchanted, outside of a Sharpness book that he had slapped onto a diamond axe. He gathers the rest of his supplies with careful hands, trying to press down the increasing trembling of his limbs from his growing panic, flexing his arm around the weight of a shield once again and pocketing steaks and golden apples from his hoard.

He has no potions, no good weapons, not even a properly enchanted crossbow to offer the slightest bit of an advantage. Dream lets his eyes flick up to where Sam is waiting at the opposite side of the room, standing up straight with enchanted netherite covering him head to toe and a familiar axe slung over his shoulder, and tries not to break down right then and there. It’s too familiar, too reminiscent of obsidian walls and netherite pressed against his ribs and demands that he behave, and despite the glittering white walls and high ceiling and cold night air he swears he could fall just from the memories alone. Drowning within them, he distantly remembers a duel long-past under a bright blue sky, Sam laughing under a swirl of potion particles on the grass surrounding the Community House lake, and wonders which of the memories hurt more.

“Dream,” Quackity snaps, and Dream stills in his place, slamming the lid of the enderchest shut as his heart hammers in his ears. Quackity watches him intently, expression twisted in disappointment, and some beaten, instinctual part of him whines uncomfortably at the sight. “Hurry up.”

Dream nods, because of course he does, and stands with the results of his mad scramble to gather anything that could be useful in the duel to come - a few gapples, steaks, a sword, a bow lacking any enchantments at all, and an axe and shield. It’s a rather pathetic ensemble, but it’ll be enough. It’ll have to be enough.

“Ready?” Wilbur takes place as referee, standing off to the side with a smile on his face as Dream stands across from Sam, holding his axe with a white-knuckled grip as the Warden - expression unreadable through the shadow of his helmet and the mask fixed over his face - squares his own stance in preparation for the fight. “Good luck.”

Wilbur’s arm cuts a line in the air as it drops, and the Warden explodes into action, lumbering forward as he raises his axe over his head to bring it down. Dream tumbles in the opposite direction, letting a long held back, battle-trained part of himself take over as he rights himself back on his feet, swinging up his shield to catch on the downward arc of Warden’s Hammer, frantically pressing back the dregs of fear and panic staining the corners of his vision black as he moves.

The Warden hits slow but hits hard, too big and bulky to really avoid any quick attacks but too well-armored to be easily defeated despite that. He’s a classic tank - Dream skitters out of the way of another hit as he reaches for memories of him that won’t leave him gasping, information on his opponent that didn’t come from within the prison and all its horrors.

He’d dueled Sam before, he knows; it wasn’t the same, as Sam was trying out a Turtle Master potion and intent on proving the superiority of Resistance IV against Dream’s own combat prowess. He’d failed, then; Dream forcefully steadies another breath as the sound of the Warden’s armor clanking against the ground almost sends him into another panic. He’ll have to fail now, too.

Fortunately, he’s been allowed food to heal - without it, this fight would probably be near impossible. As it is, even without the potion, the principles of this duel are the same. Dream swings up his axe, catching the blade hurling towards him in the crook where the head meets the handle just long enough to pull himself out of the way and let the Warden’s weapon fall uselessly to the ground. Dream raises his head in the second he has, tracing his gaze over the Warden’s armor in search for places to exploit. Even the best defenses aren’t perfect. All he needs to do is survive for long enough to chip through it.

A fumbled dodge leads to the Warden’s blade skimming past his skin, carving a thin red line in the skin of his upper arm. He hisses as he dives out of the way of the next blow, the twinges of pain from the area almost enough to make his vision unfocused, almost enough to send him tumbling head-first into the part of him screaming submit submit submit if you don’t fight back they won’t hurt you more. He grits his teeth as he swings forward, knocking away the axe coming towards him with his axe long enough to push forward with his shield and knock the Warden further away from him. He can’t afford to flinch, can’t afford to let fear take control of his movements as it has so many times before. The keening desperation running through his veins is familiar, but desperation can fall both ways, can make him fight or flee - and there’s only one real option that will end with him getting out of this alive.

Dream stands and forces himself to meet the next swing hurling towards him dead on, raising his shield to catch the blade and pushing forward past the shuddering shock in his left arm from the force of the blow. His own blade arcs downward in the next second, scraping against the Warden’s netherite armor with a metallic screech. He manages to get in two more blows before the Warden’s next attack has him backing away to dodge, shaking off his arm to get his shield ready for the next attack.

He has to stay on the offensive, keep pressing the Warden back and forcing the other to play defense. He’s still weak from the prison; in terms of brute strength, he’s no match from the Warden, not after months of starvation and torture stuck in a box with hardly enough room to stretch his legs. All he really has going for him is his speed and his experience, neither of which will do him any good if he teeters over the edge into the panic attack he’s been trying to hold off the entire time. Dream runs forward, not giving himself more than a second to breathe as he rushes the Warden once again, switching weapons mid-leap to a sword that will allow for quicker blows in the time that he has the Warden off-balance enough to attack freely. He scores a series of glancing hits on the Warden, none doing any major damage but altogether enough to make the Warden back off, wary, with a gasping note of pain, and Dream shakes his head to force himself to focus before running forward once more.

The Warden pulls out a shield of his own, and Dream switches back to the axe and swings it squarely into the shield, then twists himself around to the Warden’s unprotected back to catch him with another heavy blow that leaves him reeling in the second he takes to recover. He’s clearly untrained with a shield, his left arm clumsy as he tries to block Dream’s blows, and Dream uses the opportunity to score another few solid hits to the Warden’s sides and legs, getting a good blow with the blunt side of his axe into the back of one of his knees, leaving the warden limping when he pulls away.

Dream has hardly come off unscathed in the fight - he wheezes out a heavy breath through his teeth, chest aching from a hit that had broken one of his ribs. The exertion and anxiety still pressing at the back of his throat has left him light-headed, and he bites through a crisp, almost sickeningly-sweet bite of golden apple to close a wound bleeding sluggishly on his side. Neither of them can go on for much longer; the Warden’s grip tightens on his axe, and Dream swallows past the shudder that arises from the sight.

Once again, he raises his axe and runs into the fight, parrying the coming strike and twisting out of the way to strike at a joint of the Warden’s armor with the flat of his blade. The Warden’s arm raises, and Dream bites off a yelp of alarm as the handle of his axe is levied against his unarmored side, knocking him off-balance and falling back onto the ground, too disoriented to catch himself. He lands on his left arm, and his vision goes white as it gives out with a sharp crack.

Through half-lidded eyes, he can make out the Warden stalking closer, axe raised and ready to end the fight - end him. His chest shakes in a pathetic wheeze for breath, arm completely useless from where it’s screaming in pain underneath him. He needs to move, now, if he wants to survive this - fear swells forward, unhindered as his focus is broken by the vice grip the pain has on his skull - he’s shaking, now, the terror so familiar he can taste it - salt and iron and sticky-sweet health potions against the backs of his teeth-

The Warden raises his axe.

No.

Dream raises his sword just in time to catch the blade hurtling towards his neck, uses his foot to kick against the Warden’s grip on the handle. The axe clatters out of his grip, falls forward - Dream rolls away, breathing harshly around the pain threatening to make him black out. Unarmed, the Warden takes a second to grab a sword from his inventory while Dream forces himself back to his feet and kicks the axe as far away as he can.

He’s so flooded with panic he’s choking on it, broken arm hanging limply by his side as he charges forward, sword in hand. He won’t die, not after all this time, not after all this effort - he throws himself at the Warden, batters him with jabs and thrusts that force the other man to back away and parry, snarling wordlessly as he brings his sword to slash forward again and again.

His attacks are messy, uncoordinated, but the Warden is tired and disoriented from the loss of his weapon - he flinches back as Dream hits him in the jaw with the hilt of his sword, only barely matching his blows as he continues to push forward. Any hits that he scores on Dream are brushed off with a growl of pain and his sword moving even faster in his fury, and it’s not very long at all before he’s knocked flat on his back with a sweep of Dream’s legs, gasping for air as Dream pins him to the ground with a blade pressed against his neck.

Dream meets his wide eyes with his own, lips curled back in the same desperate rage that had moved him forwards despite the black creeping into the corners of his eyes and the lancing pain tying its strings around his neck and leaving him gasping for air. The sword in his hand bears threads of blood along its edge, pressing deeper into the Warden’s neck and drawing crimson up to the surface - a thousand fearful, angry thoughts swell up to the front of his skull in a singular, white-hot point. It is the Warden underneath his feet, at the end of his blade, cowering beneath him as he had cowered before - the Warden, the cause of his pain, the reason behind the ache in his gut and the stinging pains in his limbs and the piercing agony from his arm and chest. It would be so easy to push just a little harder, to press the sweet blue blade down and down and down until the Warden is gone and the Warden is dead and the Warden can’t hurt him anymore-

“Down, Dream,” Quackity snaps, and Dream backs off immediately, losing his grip on his sword as the command has him dragged back by the neck like an invisible leash and collar pulling him away. Sam settles back in a sitting position, still wide-eyed, wincing as he moves and bringing a golden apple from his inventory to heal the worst of his injuries.

“Eat,” Quackity commands again, and Dream only barely manages a stiff nod through the nausea and dread curling around his chest as the adrenaline begins to fade away, fumbling with the golden apple he finds in his inventory and nibbling at it to tide off the worst of the pain.

“Bravo, bravo,” Wilbur grins from the side, clapping slowly as he walks back into the middle of their makeshift arena - he’s taken his armor off again, but it doesn’t make the sight of him any less intimidating. “What a show! We should do that more often, what do you think?”

No, Dream almost screams, I can’t- but Quackity beats him to it, glaring at Wilbur with an incredulous expression.

“We don’t have the time to waste on your fucking ‘shows,’” he snaps, crossing his arms as he swings his gaze over to Dream. “Fine. You’ve proved yourself. Now hurry up - we have to clean up all of this shit and then figure out the rest of this fucking budget.”

Dream pulls himself to his feet, watching from the side as the Warden does the same.

“Make yourself useful and clean off all your fucking blood from the floor,” Quackity meets his eyes with a vicious glare, waiting until he stammers his way through an agreement before turning to the other two in the room. “Sam, Wilbur - with me. I want to get this money issue figured out tonight.”

Dream watches them go as he shuffles to the cleaning closet, feeling a shudder crawl up his spine once they’re out of sight. Make yourself useful, Quackity’s voice rings in his head, and Dream bites his lip, only stopping when he accidentally breaks through skin and the taste of blood floods his tongue.

He has a feeling that those words are going to haunt him for a long, long time.

#tw torture #tw abuse #tw death #tw violence #tw blood #tw injuries #tw conditioning #tw dehumanization #tw panic attack #tw emotional distress #tw trauma #tw unhealthy relationship #tw smoking #tw dark content #tw dark themes #prison arc #pandora's vault #my writing :D #> my writing #my asks !! #> my asks #> vegas team au 2.0 #🐇 anon