#/ i'm just gonna keep this here as a sort of reminder to cover it better later

[ofdetonation]

one day i’ll make a more coherent list of scars / injuries katsuki has and actual placements, but here are the ones i think he gets with basic reasons (plus the canon ones being first):

his lower right torso and left shoulder (from being shish-kebabbed)

EXTENSION OF ABOVE:  his left shoulder impinges sometimes bc u cannot look me in the eyes and tell me that one of the most complicated joints in the body getting stabbed doesn’t cause issues later on

his chest scar (no elaboration needed)

scarring on his leg (from the rescue training ova when he got his leg crushed and ended up using i.zuku as a cane, i say it’s canon shut up)

some scarring from using ofa in heroes rising

a few scars from his battle against the twin villains in world heroes mission

#💥 ⬦ ゜◝ I’D DEFEND KATSUKI BEFORE MYSELF TBH. ╱ ooc. #/ i'm just gonna keep this here as a sort of reminder to cover it better later #/ but no literally he got stabbed thru the shoulder n it doesn't cause issues ? #/ bro. shoulder injuries are COMPLICATED. #/ n he went to get i.zuku #/ without letting himself heal properly first. (hence the bandages in the chs) #/ but yeah i like the o.vas and m.ovies enough to have them be canon #/ what are u gonna do sue me ?? LKBLGFKDMFVD #/ but anyway

[prod-ddeonu]

UNDER THE COVER | s.jy

MDNI! MDNI! MDNI!

pairing: librarian!Jake x fem!reader

cw/tw: librarian!Jake, badboy!Jake, smut, fluff, mentions of assault and sa, drugs, sex in a public building, pet names, praise, face fucking, masturbation, kissing, mentions of murder (one line)

synopsis: Love was never your goal, preferring to keep your nose in a book while sitting in an isolated corner of your favorite library. But then you met Jake Sim: the quiet librarian who wore sweaters and button downs, the man who treated every book like a treasure, the man that you felt was perfect for you. You knew better than to judge a book by its cover, but who would have known your quiet library crush was the exact opposite of what you'd expected?

featuring: jay and sunghoon (iconic bffs!)

wc: ~6.9k

PART 2

Buy me a Ko-fi!

“Finals are kicking my ass, man,” Sunghoon stretched his arms above his head as he dramatically groaned.

Jay nodded, his notes every shade of the rainbow from his color coded highlighting method of studying. “You can say that again,” he capped the red highlighter and put it behind his ear.

“Finals are kicking my ass, man,” Sunghoon repeated, laughing when Jay threw the yellow highlighter at him.

The two turned to you, your head falling as your eyes began to shut. “Y/N!” Jay shouted. Sunghoon pressed his finger against his mouth and shushed him. “Piss off, Hoon. We're in a soundproofed study room,” Jay sneered.

Your head shot up, hands flying into the table to catch yourself. “The proper function is forty-four,” you mumbled as your eyes opened. “Oh, sorry. I had a dream I had already taken the final,” you rubbed your eye with your wrist.

Sunghoon put his hand over your forehead. “Y/N, if you don't sleep enough, your score’s gonna be a forty-four,” he said, his tone laced with worry.

You smiled, pinching the bridge of your nose. Sunghoon ran his hand over the ponytail you held your hair in, bringing the hair over his head. “Jay, you think I could work long hair?”

“I don't even think you can work basic algebraic equations,” he scoffed. Sunghoon frowned, sitting back upright.

He looked at his notes before groaning in agony. “I'm done for the night, guys. It's, like, seven at night and I'm tired,” he whined.

“Yeah, I think I'm gonna head home, too. You coming, Y/N?” Jay asked as the two stood, packing their notes and pencils.

You shook your head. “No, I'm gonna get a little bit of reading therapy in,” you smiled, thinking of your favorite character.

The two boys looked at each other with a raised brow. Sunghoon wiggled his at Jay, the other returning the action to create some sort of impromptu language. “Are you sure it's therapeutic reading?” Jay asked tenderly.

“Or is it ‘I wanna fuck that hot librarian’?” Sunghoon finished the point, sliding onto the table in front of you.

Your ears turned red, the mental image Sunghoon painted making you sweat. The two burst into laughter, clapping loudly and pointing at you. “She totally does! Y/N has a crush!” Jay shouted.

You slapped your hand over his mouth. “It's soundproof in here, not a solitary confinement cell! They can definitely hear your walrus laughter!”

Jay faked shock, slapping his hand against his chest and holding the table for support.

Ignoring him, Sunghoon leaned his elbows against the table next to you. “So, whatcha likin’ about this dude?”

You squeaked. “I- um-”

Jay returned to his position on the other side of you, his hand on your shoulder. “Is he loud, badass, smokes a lot of weed and parties all night, muscle tees and ripped jeans, maybe a print-”

“Alright, alright!” You shouted. “Remind me to put some soap in your mouth, Jay,” you wagged your finger in his face. He snapped his jaw at you, following your finger. “He's the exact opposite, actually. He's quiet, really kind, he’s not into the party scene, he doesn't wear anything too showy-”

“So he's just like you?” Sunghoon interrupted, pulling the edge of his sweater onto his shoulder.

You nodded, a cheesy grin coming over your lips. “And how do you know all this?” Jay raised his brow. “I doubt you've hung out with him.”

“I can just tell,” you sighed dreamily. You kicked your feet underneath you in excitement.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “Ah, yes. Because you read minds.”

Jay clicked his tongue at you, crossing his arms. “Y/N, did nobody ever tell you not to judge a book by its cover?” He asked. “What if you get your hopes up, and then you find out that he's some rager that breaks your heart?”

You shook your head. “I don't think so, he seems pretty genuine from the way he looks.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes playfully again, “Delusion is one of your few flaws, Y/N. Your other one is reading for fun.”

You sat with your knees against your chest in a small corner of the library. The seating arrangement in that corner was a long, wooden bench that wrapped around the corner of the room. You liked to sit against the corner, your back to the wall and feet facing the shelves in front of you.

In the book you were reading, the main character had gone out with her boss in order to escape her manipulative boyfriend and catch him cheating. Her boss was icy, tall, and young. You'd barely managed to catch it, but it seemed that he was younger than her. The main character was a happy woman who let her naïvety get the best of her, which her boss had helped her get past.

You were in the scene where her boss confesses to her, but you weren't sure where the story was going. He told her he was falling in love with her, which she reciprocated, but he was holding her so close, and the word “heat” and “member” kept appearing in sentences.

You saw a shadow loom over you, shading your book from the light. A large hand rested on top of the book, tilting it back. “Are you enjoying the book so far?” A deep voice with a thick accent asked.

You nodded, not looking up. “It's really good, I'm just a little confused as to what's happening. I don't know who this member is and why they're so hot, but it doesn't make sense for her to be kissing them and not the main guy,” you rambled.

The person let out a deep chuckle. “Cute,” he said under his breath. “This is my favorite part, actually. If you don't know what all of that means, though, maybe you should skip that scene. It's not really important to the plot, anyways,” he continued.

The dim light above you bounced off of his rings, his long finger tapping on the spine of the book lightly in a fidgeting manner.

“I want to know what it means,” you sighed. “Can you explain it to me?”

When the person didn't respond, you looked upwards. Your breath caught in your throat as you squeaked.

The librarian you'd been harboring a secret crush on stood above you, his mouth slightly agape and his cheeks pink. His eyes grew wider with shock the longer you looked into them.

You turned back to the book, your eyes not really reading any words. “I can figure it out myself, sorry,” you whispered.

The man scratched the nape of his neck, a shy laugh leaving his lips. “No, it's okay, that scene is just…”

“Just what? Confusing?”

“Just not something you'd want a stranger to explain.”

“If you love the book, though, wouldn't you be good at explaining it?” You asked, curiosity bubbling up inside you.

He took the book from your hands, folding the corner of the page you were on and closing it. “Let me go check this out for you. I'll tell you at the counter, then you can read the rest at home, ‘kay?”

You nodded, willing to do anything he suggested. He walked you to his counter, scanning the book. “That scene you were reading is probably one of the most well-written sex scenes a reader could ask for,” he casually commented, smirking when you covered your mouth. “You can Google the words you don't know, but tell me if you still enjoyed the book when you return it!”

He placed the book in your bag, waving to you and leaning against the counter.

You sound around, mouth open to speak. “Name’s Jake, by the way,” he smiled handsomely at you, nodding his head up once. “I was gonna introduce myself to you properly, but you kinda jumped the gun on that one, miss sex book girl.”

You blushed, looking away in embarrassment. “You don't have to call me that,” you barely whispered.

“Yeah?” He poked his tongue at his lip with a teasing smile. “What can I call you, then?”

“Y/N,” you looked at the floor before spinning around and walking to the door.

Jake waved behind you, a smile still prevalent on his face. “Have a safe night, Y/N,” he called out behind you. “Hope you enjoy your book!”

Oh, you enjoyed that book alright. With Jake’s words looming in your head, and a trusty Google search (turned out, member did not mean another character), you finished the book with a foggy mind and a whole lot of nervous swallows.

Jay and Sunghoon sat across from you at your local cafe, your bag on the table and notes strewn about. “Hoon, I think you should change majors,” Jay sighed, his palm against his forehead.

Sunghoon chewed his straw nervously while the other reviewed his notes and practice exam. “Why? I thought I was good with my pre-med stuff,” he grabbed the paper from Jay’s hands.

“‘What do you call a row of stitches holding together the edges of an incision?’ was the question, Hoon.”

He looked it over. “I don't see what I did wrong.”

You peeked your head up from your notes, reading the question. “You wrote ‘satire,’” Jay deadpanned. Sunghoon cursed under his breath and erased the answer, writing suture in its place.

“Could've sworn I put suture for that,” Sunghoon mumbled. You pat his back reassuringly, a small frown on his face. “I think I'm just burning out, I've been studying all of this for so long. Jay, gimme your card, I'm gonna go buy us a round of espresso.”

Jay swatted Sunghoon’s reaching arm away. “Dude, no! Use your card, I'm not rich,” he scoffed.

“Oh my gosh, Jay, please,” you whined. “I'm so tired, I barely slept last night.”

Jay’s brow flew to the top of his forehead, the corner of his lip lifting. “Is it because of a certain librarian you stayed late to see?” He lightly punched your shoulder jokingly.

You held your shoulder and cried out in pain dramatically. “C’mon, Jay, you owe her now,” Sunghoon waved his fingers at Jay to make a grabbing motion. Jay sighed, rolling his eyes and giving the card to him. “First round’s on Jay!”

Sunghoon skittered off to the counter to order the drinks, leaving Jay to interrogate you further.

He scooted his chair closer to yours, his arms folded over his chest. “So,” he started, “what's the reason you were up all night?”

You squeaked nervously. He laughed, placing his hand over yours softly. “I was reading a book Jake said was good,” you almost whispered.

Jay shot backwards into his seat, letting out a loud gasp of shock and earning concerned stares from the rest of the customers. You shushed him, to no avail. He spun in his chair, calling out to his friend. “Hoon! Hoon!”

Sunghoon turned to face him with a scowl. “What?” He mouthed.

“She got the hot librarian’s name!” He shouted, not caring whose morning he disturbed.

Sunghoon ran out of line, sliding back into the chair across from you and resting his hand against his chin. “Soooo,” Sunghoon dragged out, “what's his naaaame?”

You shrunk into your seat. “It’s, um-”

“It's Jake!” Jay shouted, leaning over the table.

Sunghoon and Jay brought their hands together, ooh-ing in a high pitched tone as they wiggle their fingers. “Anything else happen? Did he hold the door open for you?” Sunghoon swooned at you.

You shyly laughed. “No, he just told me to read this book,” you blushed, pulling it out of your bag. “He told me what some of it meant, and it really helped!”

Jay flipped the book open to the folded corner, reading a paragraph quickly. He closed the book, furrowed his brows, reopened the book, re-read the paragraph, and turned to you, pointing at the pages as he let his mouth hang open. “He told you what this meant?”

You nodded, blushing. “I was a little embarrassed, but he was super nice about it,” you crossed your ankles and swayed slowly.

Jay shut the book and slid it into your bag, Sunghoon reaching in and pulling it out as he turned.

“Y/N, my dearest, sweetest, bestest friend,” he placed his hand on your shoulder with a smile. Suddenly, his grip turned hard, squeezing into your collarbone. “HE IS FLIRTING WITH YOU!” He seethed.

You swatted his hand away. “Then what do– ow, that actually hurts still– I do?”

Jay peacefully made a tent with his hands against the table. He blew his bangs out of his face, the brunette pieces flying upwards. “You go back there, and you ask him out,” Jay smirked evilly. “And then, you come back and relay everything to us.”

You nodded, saluting and grunting in comprehension.

Sunghoon gasped loudly, causing you and Jay to whip your heads to him.

He slammed the book against the table, scattering Jay’s highlighters and your pencils. “THIS IS A SEX BOOK?!” He shouted.

You blushed while Jay put his hand to his mouth in order to stifle his laughter. Sunghoon slowly turned to you, disgust apparent on his face. “You're such a nerd you read porn?”

“Hey, man. She reads it for the plot,” Jay snickered.

After your embarrassing exchange with your friends, you went back to the library to return the book (and stare at Jake). You held the book in front of you, sad to part with it. Jake had opened a door to a new world that you'd never heard of: the world of erotic romance books.

You blushed at the thought of the genre being his favorite. Swinging the door open, you took in the scent of paper, dust, and the slight hint of lavender you always caught when you walked in. Your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting.

Jake scanned a book at the counter for a woman, his long, black hair being accessorized by his usual pair of round, metal-rimmed glasses.

You watched silently from in front of the door as he performed such a melancholy task in such a charming way. The sleeves of his blue pullover came to the edges of his palm, his white turtleneck beneath covering his skin. You watched his pouty lips curve into your favorite smile, a slight wink being thrown to the older woman.

The woman slipped the book into her bag, giggling and walking towards the door. Jake’s eyes met your own, a happy wave being sent your way.

You felt yourself begin to melt at the sight.

You waved back, walking towards where he was standing. You placed the book into the counter as he smiled at you. He laughed lightly. “Guess it wasn't your cup of tea, seeing as you're bringing it back the next morning?”

You shook your head, “The opposite, actually. I finished it all last night, I just couldn't put it down!” You smiled.

Jake raised a brow, putting his elbow onto the countertop and resting his chin in his palm. “Yeah?” He asked with a thick accent. “What made it so enjoyable?”

This is the flirting Jay was talking about, you thought to yourself.

You bit the tip of your tongue, looking around the room in thought. What could you say to add to the flirting? You hadn't been in a serious relationship in years, you had little to no current experience.

“I guess I really liked the main character's chemistry with her boss,” you smiled at him, “and how he had a different side to his character that he only showed her.”

Jake nodded, leaning back and rocking onto the heels of his feet. He slid the book across the counter with a low whistle escaping his lips. “You're the first person I've met that tried to find something romantic in this book.”

You mentally facepalmed yourself. “Is that not what I was supposed to do? The writing was really good, I just-”

“Hey, hey,” he laughed. “Don't worry your pretty self over that, I think it's cool that you didn't just admire the smut aspect of the book,” he scanned the barcode on the back cover and placed the book onto a cart.

“I did enjoy that part a little, it just felt awkward to read,” you lied. You actually re-read that section of the book three times after finishing the book.

Jake’s tongue swiped across his bottom lip to wet it with a smile. He walked around the counter, pushing his book cart in the direction of the young adult section of the library.

You turned to walk to your usual corner of the library, ready to surrender this golden opportunity to your awkwardness. You took a step forward, spinning back around quickly as Jake coughed.

You made eye contact as his mouth opened to speak. “Can I have your number?” You blurted out.

Jake’s mouth shut with squinted eyes. Rejection.

“Can you read my mind or something?” He asked.

You shot him a confused look, a toothy grin splayed across his face. “I was-” He cleared his throat nervously, “I was just thinking about how I wanted to ask you to hang out after I close up, sorry if it came out weird.”

You felt clouds lift your feet, making them take even steps before landing in front of him with your phone out. He chuckled as he put his number into your phone. “Doesn't this place close late, though?” You asked.

He nodded. “It closes at nine, but if I'm being honest, fun never really happens until after dark.”

You laughed, thinking he was joking. He was not.

He shrugged, continuing to push the cart. “Just text me your address, I'll pick you up. I'll make sure it's a date that you'll never forget,” he smiled.

Your heart soared. It raced. It pounded. More importantly, it stopped. Time stopped. “Date?” You squeaked out.

He laughed, his ears turning red. “Yeah, I figured it should be a date. Don't wanna waste a good time with a pretty girl like you, y'know?” He scratched the back of his neck.

You nodded eagerly. “It's a date! What do I wear?”

“Just some comfortable clothes, you don't have to do much to impress me. I'll be wearing what I usually do, anyways,” he placed a book onto the shelf, examining the next book.

You walked to the cart, grabbing a book from the other side. “I know it's not very romantic, but can I help you put away the books? It might help you close faster,” you smiled.

He pulled the cuffs of his pull-over off of his hands. “I find it very romantic that you want to do the most boring part of my job with me, actually,” he joked.

That same lavender scent you would get hints of came flooding your senses as the two of you worked closely. You closed your eyes, taking a long breath. Jake smelled like lavender, and god, it made your knees weak.

Jay and Sunghoon, although strongly against the date, showed up to your place at seven sharp to help you get ready for it. “I mean, what kind of guy asks a kind and unsuspecting girl to go out after nine?” Sunghoon asked as he curled your hair.

He looked up into the mirror, eyes locking on yours. “A sex offender,” He released your hair from the contraption, waving the wand in the air as he spoke.

Jay groaned as he laid different outfit combinations across your bed. “For the tenth time, Sunghoon, he wouldn't be able to work at a public library if he was a registered sex offender!” Jay tapped his toes in thought before throwing a red shirt of yours onto the growing pile of clothes on your floor.

“Maybe he's not a sex offender yet,” Sunghoon replied, “but our little Y/N could end up being the body they find in the ditch.”

You sighed as Jay struggled to not throw a hard object at his friend. Sunghoon and Jay had been going at it since they arrived, Sunghoon erring more on the “worried mother” end of the argument.

“Sunghoon, stop worrying so much. He's super cute and sweet, he probably just wants to watch a movie or something,” you smiled.

Sunghoon clicked his tongue. “Let's recall what he said. ‘Wear something comfortable’, because tight clothes cause you to bleed out slower. ‘A date you'll never forget’, because you'll be dead by eleven.”

“‘I just want to have sex with you and then send you home at four in the morning,’” Jay commented. “You make it sound like she's going out with Michael Myers. Don't forget, Hoon, she already agreed to share her location with us in the groupchat.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, running his fingers through your curls. “So we'll know what corner of the road her body ends up on, but what about her head?”

“Oh, God, you're going off the deep end,” you pressed your hand to your forehead.

You stood from the chair, doing a small twirl for the two. You had already done your makeup before the two arrived, but you were a lost cause with fashion and hair.

Jay clapped, his lower lip jutting out in an impressed expression. “Wow, Hoon. Maybe you should drop out of college and become a hairdresser,” he commented, earning a threatening jab with the hot iron from Sunghoon.

You unplugged the appliance, taking it from his hands and carefully placing it down. Jay held a shirt and skirt to your body, nodding for the other man to look at the combination.

Sunghoon patted the man on his back, a smile on his face. “See, if I had to send my only daughter off to possibly go missing, this is the outfit I think she'd want to go in.”

You walked out of your door at exactly a quarter past nine, Jake’s text message reminding you of a drunk message from Jay.

Hey um he uh, um out sigh in the blocker period sore we eve this cumster you we're, um using speech to text period

You figured it translated roughly to, “Hey, I'm here, I'm outside in the black car. Sorry if this comes to you weird, I'm using text to speech.” You just couldn't figure out where cumster could've come from.

You giggled as you sat in the car. Your purse clinked loudly with the pepper spray, pocket knife, seatbelt cutter, lockpick, whistle, and body reflectors Sunghoon wouldn't let you leave without.

You closed the door, turning to Jake. You audibly screamed when you saw the man in the front seat. He jumped, looking into the backseat and out of every window. “Shit, Y/N, what's wrong?!” He shouted, equally as scared as you.

You looked at him in disbelief. “Jake? Is that really you?”

The man who was sitting next to you was wearing a black wife-beater and baggy jeans with large tears at the knees, a small book pendant hanging off a gold chain. His body, now uncovered by layers of clothing, was covered by layers of ink. He had a paw print on his inner arm, the name Layla written inside of it, along with many music tattoos and smaller symbols across his arms and chest.

You looked down, noting that it seemed even his legs had art on them. His eyes followed yours, a small gasp leaving his mouth. “Oh, yeah. Guess I forgot to mention all that,” he smiled. “They're everywhere, but they all mean something.”

You looked up at him, your eyes wide. You may have painted him as a modest man, but you'd be lying if you said the Jake in front of you didn't make you feel butterflies. “They're pretty,” you commented, reading the tattoo on the side of his neck.

“Love is a great beautifier.”

Jake self-consciously ran his hand over it. “It's from Little Women,” Jake smiled softly.

“I love that book,” you commented, continuing to admire his look. His hair had fallen messily over his forehead, his glasses seeming to have disappeared.

He sucked a breath in through his teeth. “Me too, actually. It's what got me into reading,” he looked forward as he put his seatbelt back on. “Look, if you find that I look too weird like this, I can put a jacket on or something-”

“No! I like it, actually. You look… good,” you blushed as you put your seatbelt on.

Jake reached his hand under your chin, lifting your head to look at him. “Look me in my eyes and say it again,” the corner of his lip lifted. “I want to see you say it, don't hide your face from me.”

You mumbled, “You look good.”

“I'll take it,” he smiled fully, throwing the car into drive and pulling into the road. “Just know, I don't let pretty girls hold their tongue around me.”

You looked out the window in an effort to hide your nervousness. Jake turned his radio on, playing a band you didn't know.

He started humming along to the song as it got closer to the chorus. He had a beautiful voice, which only added to your nervousness.

“Where are we going?” You asked, noticing a familiarity in the direction he was driving in.

He tested his elbow against his center console as he drove with one hand. “I figured I could take you to the library after hours, y'know? We'd be alone but it wouldn't be like you didn't know the place. I can show you my favorite spot, too.”

You shot a glance in his direction. “Jake, isn't it closed?”

“Yeah, and?”

“As in, we can't be there?”

“Yes we can,” he smiled.

You rolled your eyes. “If you're trying to break into a building, I think we should call this off.”

“Relax, sweetheart,” he laughed, his accent shining through, “it's not breaking in.”

“Entering with a key doesn't count.”

“It does when you own the place,” Jake pulled up to a stop light, wiggling his eyebrows at you before laughing loudly. Your jaw was to the floor, an unreadable expression in your eyes. “I've never made it obvious that I owned it, because it was given to me by my grandmother when she retired, but I've owned it since I moved here. My cousin opens the place on weekdays while I go to college, but I close every night and spend the whole weekend there.”

“You'd have to live there to pull that off,” you rolled your eyes.

“I do,” he responded. “My place is right next to it.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Of course you're handsome, funny, good at singing, and you own a business.”

You felt his hand land on your leg, his fingers tapping rhythmically to the music. You turned to him, your eyes trailing up his arm. “You can continue,” he said with a shit-eating grin.

You lightly hit his arm, pointing to the road. “Light's green,” you turned to hide your blush.

Jake walked you into the familiar building, a small smile on his face as he pulled a projector from the office room. “Come and sit down, pretty girl,” he plugged a handful of cords into the device and turned it on.

You walked past the nonfiction shelves to see pillows forming small seats on the floor, a basket of movie snacks and drinks in the middle. Jake had thrown some last minute fairy lights into the mix, wrapping them around the seating area and putting some candles on the ground. “Jake, this looks amazing.”

He sat on a pillow before laughing and motioning to the other. You ran over, sitting down and immediately putting on a movie.

You didn't watch a single moment of the movie. Although Jake seemed immersed, you couldn't take your eyes off of him. Your eyes took in the slight shine against his skin from the movie, the light in his eyes looking like stars. You didn't miss the way he chewed his tongue when he got focused, or when his hair was blown awry by the air conditioner.

Your brain took a turn for the worse as a more romantic scene in the movie arrived. Your eyes raked over his exposed skin, feeling like a Victorian man who had just been introduced to short sleeves.

You looked at his tattoos, really looked at them, and saw countless music notes with small letters in them, a guitar, small pictures or animals, and a lot of book references. You never expected Jake to have been fully inked up, but you also never expected to find that as a huge turn-on.

You squeezed your thighs together to hide the fact that a simple doodle in perfectly smooth skin had put you in such a predicament. Jake turned to you, wrapping his arm around you and pointing to the screen. “See that actor?”

“Yeah, what about him?” You asked.

Jake let his hand fall onto your lap, turning to you. “Even he can tell you're not paying attention,” he pushed your hair behind your ear. “Wanna tell me what you like so much that you've been staring at me the whole time?”

You gawked. You geeked. You'd fumbled.

Jake slid his hand onto your back, and in a moment he was above you. “Tell me, sweetheart, what's so attractive that it's got you squeezing those pretty thighs so tight?”

You gulped, your thoughts having gone anywhere but where they should. He tapped his finger against your lip, a sinful smile on his face. “Your tattoos,” you whispered.

Jake leaned back, messily pushing his hair out of his face and laughing darkly. “You like my tattoos so much that you're getting wet over them?” He asked, looking down at you.

You nodded. “I like how cool you look, wanna see the rest.”

“You want to see the rest of the ones on me, sweetheart?” He asked in that thick Aussie accent you couldn't get enough of.

With a small squeak, you nodded again, feeling smaller than usual in his gaze. He looked at you the same way you'd assume a predator stared at its prey in its final moments, but you felt a strange sense of safety with him.

He slowly leaned in, his arms caging you in as he pressed his lips to yours. He held your hip with his large hand, his fingers gripping your ass while his palm held you down. He slid his thigh over your core, pressing into where you needed him most.

Your lips parted, letting out a moan. Jake swallowed it whole, sliding his tongue against your own slowly and sucking on your bottom lip. The two of you built a slow rhythm, his thigh grinding into you as you arched your back like clockwork.

His hand never left your hip, holding you in place to keep you victim to his torturously slow lips and thrusts. He loved every noise that left your mouth. Jake pulled away from you, his eyes taking in your wet, puffy lips. The two of you were breathlessly panting to catch your breaths.

His lips parted in thought. “Didn't think you'd be such a good kisser,” he mused. “Almost like you were made for my lips.”

You giggled, pushing him off you as he went to press more kisses to your lips. “Jake, I want to know more about you,” you whined.

“For one, I'm a really good kisser,” he wiggled his eyebrows jokingly as he settled back into his seat. His arms came behind him for support. He seemed to not worry about covering his obvious boner, leaning back and looking at the ceiling.

You hit his arm. “I know that already,” you fussed. “But, like, what are some hobbies of yours?”

He jut his bottom lip out in thought. “I play guitar,” he shrugged, “and there's nothing I love more than getting high and reading a good book.”

You blinked slowly, his eyes coming to yours with a smile. “What does being high even have to do with reading?”

“Makes the experience more realistic. Feels like you're there, you start feeling what the character feels and all,” he sighed. “I like to read romance books, though.”

You bit the back of your lip. “Does that really work?”

“Wanna try it?"

Jake had lit a joint for you, showing you how to hold it and even going so far as to hold it for you while he played with your hair.

The world started to move slower, certain colors waving in your vision. “Do you feel it?” Jake asked, running his hands through your hair. You nodded, looking around the room. “The rest’ll hit soon, just know I'm right here if you need me.”

He put his arm around your shoulders as he took his own hits, resting his head against your own.

He put the joint into a small ashtray, standing with you and grabbing one of the many books he'd brought into the soundproofed study room off a table.

The two of you read through it, laughing when one of you wouldn't be done with the page as fast as the other. Suddenly, the book began to describe a racier scene, one with hands all over the main character's body and kisses being pressed over her.

Jake watched you closely, taking note of how you squirmed in your seat every time the girl felt a new sensation. “What's wrong, Y/N?” Jake asked in a low voice, leaning into you. “You seem… worked up.”

You swallowed hard. “N-No! I’m just cold,” you lied. Jake clicked his tongue, closing the book and holding you by your thigh.

He used his hand to pull you closer, his lips connecting to your own. “Sure, sweetheart. I believe you,” he lied with a smirk. He glanced at your lips again before wrapping his fingers around your throat, pulling you in to continue his rough kiss.

A groan slipped from Jake's own throat, his body reacting before he could. He pulled away, his hand sliding up your closed thighs. “Not,” he continued, connecting your lips again. You opened your legs slightly, giving Jake the ability to use his hand and pry them open.

He ran his fingers up and down your clothed slit, just barely giving you the friction you craved. You felt how hard he was through his jeans, his crotch subtly grinding against your leg. He continued his assault against your lips, never once stopping for air.

You hit his chest, moaning into his mouth as he pulled away. “Jake, stop teasing me.”

“Oh, I'd never tease you, darling,” he responded with a mischievous grin. “Just wanted you to feel how good you're gonna feel with me.”

Jake took his hand off your skirt and brought it into your other hand. He brought his lips to your neck, biting down and tracing the marks with his tongue. You moaned out his name, making him groan lowly into your neck.

“I can't wait anymore,” he said as he stepped back and began unbuckling his belt. “I need to feel your throat around me.”

You stood, walking to be in front of him and pushing his back to the table. His breath caught in his throat as you sank to your knees in front of him. He hurriedly finished unbuckling his belt, reaching his hands to his waistband to pull down the rest of his clothing as you held his hand to stop him.

“Wait, Jake, are you sure about this? We're both high and in a study room in the library, what if the cameras pick up the noise?”

Jake leaned against the table behind him, his hands holding onto the edge of it at his sides. He looked at you with such an intense heat behind his gaze, you could feel the lust of it gathering into your underwear.

He slid a hand into your hair, pulling you to him and smashing his lips to yours. He brought his thigh outwards to catch your body between your legs. Your eyes shut at the feeling, the messy kiss fogging your brain.

“These rooms are sound-proof for two reasons. One, for studying or reading. And two, so I can fuck your throat as hard as I want.”

He released your hair, making you fall back to your knees. He pushed his pants and boxers down to his knees, giving you a grand view of his cock.

It was veiny, thick, and the tip was such an angry red that the precum leaking from it almost screamed for you to lick it all up. Without warning, you grabbed it and took it between your lips.

Jake threw his head back, a moan bouncing off the walls of the room. You heard him suck a breath in through his teeth as you sucked on the tip. You let your tongue glide over his slit, collecting his precum and swallowing it.

“Fuck, Y/N, you're so good at this,” he moaned. Your wetness was dripping down your legs, you felt it. You moaned around him as you took more of him in with hollowed cheeks.

He held the sides of your head, forcing you to look into his eyes. “Remember what I said, sweetheart. Wanna fuck your face, if that's okay.”

You hummed on his dick, giving him the go-ahead. He slowly began to thrust into your mouth, not pushing in all the way. When you began to bob your head further, Jake took it as his sign to go deeper.

He added more force and speed to his thrusts until you were taking him whole, each thrust hitting the bottom of your throat and making you gag around him. Your saliva was dripping down his balls and onto his legs as you used one hand to rub your own clit.

You were so close, but you wanted to wait until his cum was pouring down your throat to finish. “Such a good girl for me, so sweet for taking my dick down her throat,” Jake hummed, his eyes never leaving the sight. It all felt so good.

Jake’s legs began to shake as he let out more moans. Jake was not afraid to be loud, nor was he afraid to speak his mind. He constantly praised you between his little moans.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “‘M so close.”

You moaned against him again, his hips jolting forward. “Gonna make me cum down your throat like that, bet you want that don't you?”

His tip slammed into the back of your throat, his thrusts growing erratic. With each thrust he gave to the back of your throat, you circled your clit faster. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” he groaned.

His hips stuttered to a halt, warm liquid spilling into your stomach. “Taking it so, so good,” he sighed, his hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead. “Atta girl, my girl, so beautiful with my cock down her throat.”

You moaned as you felt your orgasm take over you, moans spilling around Jake’s cock and slightly overstimulating him. He thrusted one more time into you, a lazy smile on his face. He pulled out of you, watching bits of spit and cum dribble down your chin.

You looked like an absolute wreck, your hair messy and your mascara running with spit down your chin. Jake loved it. You looked stunning to him.

“Y/N, that was amazing. Thank you,” he pulled you up to sit you in a chair. He ran out of the room to get water for you, as he'd told you when he walked out.

Your eyes darted around the room. You opened your phone to see four missed calls from both Sunghoon and Jay.

You dialed Jay’s phone number, a groggy smile on your face. “Hey, what's up?”

“Y/N, are you still with Jake?”

“Yes, why?” You asked, stretching in the chair.

He sighed over the phone. “We've been waiting outside the library for half an hour, get the fuck in the car.”

“Jay, I'm capable of bringing myself home-”

“Y/N. Get out of there, now,” Jay said, his tone cold. “I don't know how to say this, but-”

“Jay, you can't control me. I'm an adult,” you rolled your eyes, pacing around the room. “If you're so uncomfortable with me dating someone-”

Jay interrupted you, saying a sentence you'd never think to hear about anyone, much less the guy you sucked off less than three minutes ago. His words had you quickly grabbing your belongings and running out of the building, hoping Jake didn't see you go.

“He’s wanted for murder, Y/N.”

notes: MURDER?? oh boy.. didn't see that one coming ;) expect the next part to be... Eventful. Originally, Jake was supposed to be a camboy, but I figured that possible criminal Jake would be better LMFAO. I reccomend listening to Arctic monkeys or chase Atlantic when you read this series.

tags: @heesitation @vizstars

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, and thank you for reading! stick around for part 2!!

#enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff #enha smau #enhypen jake #enhypen jay #enhypen smau #enhypen smut #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen heeseung #enha heeseung #jake smut #jake x reader #jake #enha jake #jake sim #jake sim smut #sim jake #sim jaeyun #enhypen jaeyun #enhypen #enha smut #kpop smut #smut

[cinnamon-todd]

bless the telephone - j. miller x f!reader

authors note: It is set right before the outbreak, so it's bittersweet. I just love the song Bless the Telephone by Labi Siffre, so I was inspired. I keep deleting my fics, but this one I think I'm gonna keep up.

word count; 750

warnings; Pre-outbreak, Joel's birthday, no physical description of reader, long distance, fluff but really sad when you realise what's happening right after lol, but It's sweet prom!!

song; Bless the Telephone - Labi Siffre (listen if you haven't!!! there's also a Kelis version which is also good)

Business trips weren’t her favourite. Being separated from her family was a foreign feeling, sort of. She worked a lot, but she always came home before the clock struck twelve. She always tucked her girl to bed and kissed her husband good night. But business trips don’t give her that luxury. 

It was just a five-day excursion, but she found herself calling home every chance she got. She was glad Sarah was now old enough to have a phone, so she could stop bombarding Joel with questions about her day. Even though he didn’t mind. Oh, Sweet Joel. It was his birthday this week, yet she wasn’t even there to celebrate it. She tried everything in her power to get out of this trip, yet her boss didn’t budge one bit. 

She made it back late from a night out with her colleagues. It was a distraction to stop calling home, Joel’s constant nagging of wanting her to enjoy her time overseas and there was nothing to worry about back home. Giving in, she went out with them and had a few too many to drink. Her drunken giggles filled the empty hotel room as she stumbled into bed. It was almost twelve a.m., and she couldn’t even open her door without help from the hotel staff, let alone crunch the time and figure out what it was back home.

“Pick up…” her desperate calls ring him. Her legs are tucked snugly into the expensive sheets of the hotel bed as she waits for him to answer.

And he does, of course, “Damn it, girl, do you know what time it is?” his groggy voice rang.

“Mmmm,” a drunken giggle slips as she lays comfortably against the pillows. The room was dimly lit as she looked at the ceiling. “No, what is the time?”

The sound of sheets rustling can be heard on the other line, the thought of those sheets felt more expensive than the ones she was in now. Those sheets were tainted in Joel Miller, it was covered in it. “3 a.m..” his voice pulled her out of the daze.

“3 a.m.?” she gasps, and guilt fills her heart, she mumbles a drunken apology.

“No, it’s fine.” his small laugh can be heard, she envisions his naked body wrapped in their sheets as he, too, looks up at the ceiling. She can’t wait to come home, to shower him with love and make up for forgetting his birth-...

“Wait…” she sits up immediately, and a look of realisation appears. “It’s your birthday.”

“Ah…” he realises as well. “I guess you're right, technically.” his voice, smooth as butter, filled her ears again. A relaxing tone that sends shivers down her spine.

“Technically?” 

“Well, my birthday doesn’t start till I see you…”

“In that case, I better get home quickly…” her small smile pressed against the phone screen, her hunger to be near and hold him and give him the best birthday. A yawn escapes her mouth as she pulls the comforter closer to her chest. “It’s so cold here.” 

“I heard,” his rough voice rings, “Sarah said she has a surprise for me tomorrow, it’s gon’ be grand, apparently.” 

She smiles, remembering what they bought for him. A watch. It was Sarah’s idea, she wanted to give him something he could wear all the time, no matter where he was—a constant reminder of his two favourite girls. “It is, my love. It is something you would not expect.”

“Oh?” his interest peaked. “Are you gonna tell me what it is?”

“Nope. You’ll just have to wait and see.” She bites her lip, “I wish I were there to see your reaction.” 

“You’ve got two more days, you can do it.”

“I gotta remind Sarah to record it.” 

A chuckle is heard from the other line, “That girl doesn’t even know how to use her phone yet, she's gonna forget.” 

“Well then, you're gonna have to reenact it for me.” she teases. Her eyes grew heavy as the illuminating light from the screen became more painful. “Two more nights, then I’ll you both again. I can’t wait any longer. I’m not ever going on these trips again. I can’t wait to get back home.”

“I’ll always be here waiting for you.” 

“And I’ll always come back to you…” her eyes slowly begin to close, the line becomes more quiet. The couple falls asleep in each other's embrace, just as if they were at home, in bed, together.

#joel miller #fanfic #tlou #the last of us #x reader #x you #fluff #bittersweat #pre outbreak #pre outbreak!joel #sarah miller #wife!reader #bless the telephone #hbo max #writing #gongyminzy #reader insert #song inspired

[a-little-bit-of-ravioli]

Day 13 - Can't Make an Omelette Without Breaking a Few Legs

Character Focus: Warriors & Legend

Warnings: Graphic Injury

Ao3 Link

Another swathe of flames rushed past his face and licked at his cheeks.

Link - Warriors, he reminded himself, Warriors now - had never really collected many experiences in the art of dungeon crawling before.

So far, he wasn't impressed.

The wall he was currently pressed against was cold, uneven, and some of the spiked rocks protruding from it bore into his back. He’d already almost been impaled by multiple traps and monsters behind corners, lacking instincts to safely maneuver these sorts of cramped spaces. And instead of getting closer to the exit, he'd been stumbling deeper into this mess with every step.

He’d been separated from the rest of the group of heroes he’d only just recently joined forces with, after passing through a portal that had suspiciously looked like one of Cia’s. An older, scarred hero who had for now taken leadership of their gathering, the polar opposite in the body of a young and excitable teenager, and apparently the hero who’d forged the Master Sword, and carried it with him too.

And now he was here. Next to a door he’d casually swung open to inspect the room behind it, and immediately dove to the side of when a blast of fire had almost burned him to a crisp.

"Whatever you are, that was your last warning! I'm pissed, I have a fire rod, and I'm gonna fucking use it!"

Warriors blinked.

That was new. Monsters didn’t usually snark at him quite as elaborately.

“Hylian, the last I checked!” he yelled back. “And not really eager to get another burn scar, so could you stop?!”

He’d almost expected another burst of flames for good measure. His words seemed to have been taken better, though, and instead he stood there with his breath held, silence from both sides.

The voice was much less aggressive when it answered him again.

“Watch your step. Spike traps.”

Warriors couldn’t hold back a sigh of relief. The last thing he’d have needed was another conflict.

Careful to keep the warning in mind, he stemmed himself from the wall and turned. One look at the both charred and slightly glowing iron door told him better than to try and stem it open with his hand, so he gave one of its lower edges a small kick with his heel to get it fully open.

He spotted his assailant immediately. On the other end of a fairly cramped room, almost lounging on the ground with his back at the wall for support, sat a boy a few years his own junior, were he to guess. Red tunic, fancy boots with embroidery and flaring up into wings and one hand closed around a rod with a red crystal mounted on top Warriors immediately knew to be the culprit of the flames from earlier. A sheathed sword and polished shield were propped up against the wall next to him.

His trained eye immediately recognised the awkward position of one of the boy’s legs.

He took his first step over the threshold of the frame, and jumped back almost as fast. True to the warning, he’d barely had time to rescind his foot before a contraption covered in vicious steel spikes came racing towards him with a loud grinding noise, pathing that side of the room. He let it pass by one more time, counting the time it needed to return to its original place in his head, before makeshift timing his entry.

The large half-jump half-step with a slight tumble at the landing was awkward at best. A slight snicker from the other side told him it must have looked as ridiculous as he’d felt.

“Don’t seem like you’re used to this kinda stuff,” came the commentary he could’ve really done without.

His pride didn’t let him take that sort of accusation without a huff. “Rather move awkwardly than not at all. What happened to your leg?”

“Ran into that thing when I came in.” He nodded towards the entrance, and Warriors knew he meant the traps he’d just avoided himself. “Granted, probably looked even more like a moron than you. Hit me straight in the calf. Pretty sure it’s broken.” 

He took the information in as he walked up, furtive glances to his side to look out for more traps he may not have been warned about, but arrived at the boy’s side without much trouble. His eyes immediately got drawn to the injured leg and he crouched, wanting to assess the damage of someone his conscience already told him he couldn’t just leave behind.

On closer inspection, the boy didn't look nearly as alright as he very clearly wanted to pose as being.

The only light source fell on them from a couple of lanterns mounted on the walls, but even through the warm illumination the boy’s face was ashen at best. The wound itself, from what little time he’d inspected it for, was nasty and bloody, its edges jagged and uneven. Coupled with a clearly broken bone sitting just underneath, visible by a glance at the leg's position, like he'd been told.

Warriors clenched his back teeth, avoiding the grimace he'd otherwise have worn. This was bad enough he wasn't even certain a single red potion would do the trick. If he'd not passed through this place by chance…

"Well?" For someone who’d likely sat there with a wound this bad for quite a bit, Warriors could almost admire the calmness of the question. "How bad, you reckon?"

"Bad,” he stated straight away, having long trained the urge to play down injuries out of his system. "We need to get you out of here."

The boy snorted at him. "No shit."

Without much of a comment, Warriors reached into his pouch to rummage for his medical supplies. He only carried the necessities with him, but judging by the puddle of blood underneath the boy, making sure the rest of his blood stayed in his system was most likely a smart move.

"I'm curious," he said while he set down the bandages and fiddled with the flask of alcohol he’d also taken out, and only asked permission with a short look that was answered with a nod. "What was your plan? Would you have tried to crawl your way out had I not come along?"

A hiss of pain preceded the answer as he dabbed the surrounding skin with a damp cloth.

"Wasn't gonna be fun, but I've got some rations. Could've stuck it out a couple days."

One of Warriors eyebrows raised without permission, and he paused the act of dressing the wound to look up. "You really think someone would've come for you all the way down here?"

There was more confidence in the casual shrug that followed than he’d expected.

“You showed up, didn’t you?” the boy said, and waved off his own words before Warriors could dignify them with any response. "Let's just say I have it on good authority the Princess wouldn't like me kicking it. Since she sent me here, and all."

Warriors’ brain paused in the middle of another loop.

They were currently in a dungeon full of traps and monsters no regular person would ever wander into this deep, especially not a teenager. But a teenager with magical weapons, what he guessed was an adventuring pouch to hold said weapons, and a hat in a shape Warriors had only ever really seen on himself back during the war? That apparently knew the princess of this era, probably personally? That he, after meeting three other heroes only a few days ago, just happened to come across?

Oh, Farore, that made way too much sense.

"Name’s Link, by the way."

Warriors felt the corners of his mouth draw up, just a little bit. 

"Yeah, I had a feeling."

#whumptober2022 #linked universe #lu warriors #lu legend #rav writes #I never planned to write meetup scenes but here we are #the idea was too good to pass up on #the urge to make legend use every nickname #was so strong #lu fic

[memestockpile]

the devil is a sissy (1936) feel free to change as needed.

you're acting just like a little madman.

you've sort of grown up.

here's your room. you can unpack your things.

you're looking unusually well.

you never really liked me, did you?

all very quaint and romantic.

the world's changing.

what's down there on the street?

i got lonesome.

if you need an extra pencil, i have several of them.

clean enough to wade in if it's clean enough to drink.

oh, a wise guy.

remind me, will you, to bash your head against the wall next time i see you?

i thought you might find it hard going for a few days.

cheer up. everything is gonna be alright, hmm?

i think i want that more than anything else i ever wanted.

well, you got me there, pal.

he did the kind of stealing that lands a person in jail, not the kind that lands them on park avenue.

i'll never change my mind.

it's getting kind of cold out here.

i think i'll go to bed.

i must have been dreaming.

did you get to read the paper this morning?

you know what we do to squealers around here?

that seems rather drastic.

you'll get your ears boxed down.

what did i tell you would happen if you were on the same side of the street as me?

ate a butterfly once. its wings were all dusty-like.

by joe! i say, now, this is something!

hey, you think we got time for a soda?

you talk too much.

let go of me, you big flatfoot!

bring out some ginger ale or lemonade or cake or something.

what did you do to get a shiner like that?

you're not in any trouble, are you?

that's an awful lot of money.

i'm one of the gang now.

listen, son, i don't think you ought to go down there anymore.

you mean we're poor?

beat it, will you?

can you whistle? you stay here and whistle if anybody comes by.

make up your mind, you in or out?

hurry up. we ain't got all day.

when you steal, you have to take chances.

only take what we can carry.

a cup of coffee is good for the soul, no matter what time of day.

your soul doesn't need any more goodness in it.

let me take care of you.

just a moment, my boy.

it's certainly not nice meeting you this way.

i don't know what's gotten into kids these days.

i'll come see you, darling.

be a good boy, won't you?

you need a good old-fashioned shellacking.

i've got a hunch about you.

sometimes friendships go through a lot of trouble.

you mustn't speak until they ask you to.

you love your mother, don't you?

that's what makes a fella tough, being able to take it.

get this into your dome, dope.

i'm gonna get out of here.

grand of you to stop by!

you'll do nothing of the sort.

now, come on, take off your hat and coat.

i still have a bit of tea, or something stronger, if you'd like.

just make yourself at home.

looks like it might rain, doesn't it?

that sounded a little melodramatic, didn't it?

i gave up wailing when i was seven.

i'm happier than a hornet on halloween.

i hope the room is big enough to turn cartwheels in.

you didn't do that, and i like you for it.

you've got the beginning of some bug. come on, into bed with you, and we'll whip this thing.

cover up, or you'll get more cold.

we don't solve our problems by running away.

you don't want to go to reform school, do you?

i don't blame you for being angry at me.

we're gonna get something to eat. you want something to eat, don't you?

maybe we'd better just keep on going.

french food is very nice, but quite rich.

don't worry about him, kid.

it ain't polite, understand?

i'm sorry to have gotten you into this mess.

it's alright, darling. now, you come along. you're coming with me where it's nice and warm.

shh, honey, shh. you've got to stay quiet and rest.

we're gonna have a lot of fun.

#rp meme #ask meme #roleplay meme #askbox meme #meme #tumblr rp #roleplay #tumblr roleplay #askbox rp #askbox #ask #inbox rp meme #inbox meme #rp inbox meme #roleplay sentence meme #sentence starter meme #rp sentence meme #sentence starters #sentence meme #rp starters #rp sentence starters

[destinedarts]

🙈 Need Mandarin translations/confirmations for the messages the lmk creators left ASAP 🙈

Long story short, we tried to spread the animation studio switch letter Sarah posted. I speedran to Xiaohongshu (LittleRedBook/RedBook/RED); Instagram equal for China cause thought no one else would do it. This was before we found out the rest of the crew would send their regards as well.

Idk Mandarin at all so would appreciate any help. Literally just dumped everything into Google Translate.

Priority is everything in the 1st image. 2nd pic is just explanations I wrote for them in case they don't know, which idk how much they know about Flying Bark besides the fact that they thought their animation was awesome. Sometimes they share the storyboards on Bilibili/Weibo but that's about it.

Put them as images cause I was gonna post on Twitter, but coming here first, which also might be better instead.

The RedBook Post

Might need to go through some verification check, basically sliding things across the screen. No sign in should be required to view, though it could vary between countries.

Short Link: http://xhslink.com/kkPC3I

Link: www.xiaohongshu.com/explore/663ee802000000001e01c1bb

Reasons

If I don't get any sort of translation confirmations, I'm gonna have to update the post anyways. Right now, it's also full of ugly edits cause first time ever posting and I actually ran off to make this like the minute we were asked to do so in mk central discord. Gonna make it look nicer now that I realize it's gained traction. >_>

There's a lot of upset/angry/sad/mad fans on RedBook, Douyin, and Bilibili. Much like how we had the wildfire and death threats on Twitter except I think not as extreme to the point of sending death threats... thankfully. They didn't know about the studio change. Honestly, just trying to give them facts and reminding them they have part of the power to get the show cancelled or not; but also not telling them what to like or not like/stop grieving/etc.

Literally one of the RedBook comments on the S5 trailer LEGO China uploaded contains the picture from my post (cause I added disclaimer that it's not lego official translated). So I definitely would like to have the other translations down if they're just sharing around pictures like that. 😬 And note that they're all sharing the Mandarin ones; not the English even though I did provide them. I don't have Douyin and I dunno if I can upload on Bilibili. Weibo has been covered. Idk if there's other Chinese soc med I'm missing.

Notes for translation

Exact Mandarin/English text used in the ALTs of the pictures and "Keep Reading" section cause I realize ALT can’t copy and paste if needed

Uh please write down exactly what phrase to change, cause I do not understand any of the characters except the show title heh

1000 character limit for post, including tags and characters

Tags used: #lego乐高 #lego #悟空小侠 #乐高中国 #乐高悟空小侠 #乐高悟空小侠5年庆 #第五季 #齐小天 #孫悟空 @LEGO乐高 #乐高 If there's more that's helpful, please let me know lol been riding on these tags. If I can, I'll put English hashtags, but depends on character limit; Chinese is a priority

20 character limit for title, which I've chosen: 悟空小侠电视剧的未来🐒导演和编剧的笔记 (basically "future of LMK, directors & writers' statements/notes")

Crew member names and titles were written in the Mandarin dub credits, shown in 2nd pic. Not changing those in translations.

"Harbinger of Chaos" doesn't exist in the Mandarin version... I think? based on the s4 e7 subtitles we had way long ago. Changed Breen's tweet so it said to "find out more about MK." I guess I could've put "demon monkeys" but left that out in case they actually don't address it in the season. And idk the mandarin phrase they used for that

WildBrain Studios doesn't have a proper mandarin translation according to all the Mandarin dubbed Ninjago episodes so just kept it English

Idk if I forgot something, been having hard time keeping track of stuff oop I'll add more if there is more

Needed

From Christian: 谢谢悟空小侠粉丝们！

经过三季的动画导演后，我很荣幸能够执导旋风狗制片的悟空小侠的第四季，也是最后一季。

这是一个非常贴近我们旋风狗制片所有人的心的系列。 我为我们的团队感到无比自豪，他们在这些美好的岁月里一起工作，成为了一家人。

对于所有悟空小侠粉丝的热爱和奉献，我们感到非常幸运。 你们是我们长期努力的原因，我们将永远感激不已。

这场演出由 Wild Brain 出色的团队负责，我希望他们和我们一样享受这次旅程。

这张照片是我在悟空小侠中的最后一场演出。 我已经非常想念这些猴子了，但我对未来感到兴奋，迫不及待地想分享我们接下来要做的事情。<3

From David:

悟空小侠第五季要来了！ Wildbrain 将接替旋风狗制片留下的巨大足迹。 团队中充满了才华横溢、充满激情的艺术家，我们迫不及待地想让大家了解更多关于齐小天的信息！

From Deirdre:

乐高悟空小侠第五季即将到来，猜猜谁写了三集？ 我🤭

Sorta Needed

Please note that I did use a translator (and friends) to write this article. I'm a western fan but I have access to the app. And please spread the word too. I don’t have much contact with Chinese social media.

请注意，我确实使用了翻译来写这篇文章。 [Could swap to saying friends instead of translator.] 我是西方粉丝，但我可以访问应用程序。也请广而告之。 我与中国社交媒体没有太多联系。

Former series directors and writers from Flying Bark Productions, as well as current writers, have all issued statements regarding the handling of the series.

旋风狗制片（Flying Bark Productions）的前系列导演和编剧以及现任编剧都就该系列的处理发表了声明。

Sarah Harper served as series director from S1 -3 before fully becoming a writer for several episodes in S4. Some of her series credits include "The Jade Emperor" and "Rip and Tear."

莎拉·哈珀（Sarah Harper）在第一季到第三季中担任系列导演，之后在第四季的几集中完全成为编剧。她的一些剧集包括《天庭大对决》和《青毛狮之怒》。

Christian Barkel served as animation director for the first three seasons and was promoted to series director in the fourth season.

克里斯蒂安·巴克尔（Christian Barkel）在前三季担任动画导演，第四季晋升为系列导演。

David Breen is currently a writer on the show's fifth season. He served as script supervisor for S1-3 before being promoted as one of the show's writers. Some of the episodes he has written are "The Brotherhood" and “A Lifetime of Mistakes."

大卫·布林 (David Breen) 现任该剧第五季的编剧。 在晋升为该剧的编剧之一之前，他担任第一季到第三季的剧本总监。 他编写的一些剧集有《青毛狮之谜》和《寻找美猴王》。

Deirdre Devlin is also a writer on season five. She was brought on as a writer in the fourth season. Her three episodes are "The Great Tang Man", "Court of the Yellow Robed Demon", and "Pitiful Creatures".

迪尔德丽·戴夫林（Deirdre Devlin）也是第五季的编剧之一。她在第四季中担任编剧。她的三集是《小天遇三藏》 、《神秘的“朋友”》、《受困保护咒》。

Not Needed but would be nice

Flying Bark Productions has withdrawn from the animation production of "Monkie Kid". Since 2020, they have been continuously invited to participate in new projects, such as "Disney's" "Moon Girl and the Demon Dinosaur" and "Avatar Studio"'s upcoming "Avatar" film in 2026.

旋风狗制片已退出《悟空小侠》的动画制作。 自2020年以来，他们不断受邀参与新项目，例如“Disney”的《月亮女孩與惡魔恐龍》以及2026年“Avatar Studio”即将上映的《降世神通》影片。

From now on, WildBrain Studios will animate the series. They were also responsible for the Ninjago TV series, although that was in 3D rather than a 2D TV series like Monkie Kid. The writers and voice actors remain the same, but new people could join the team.

从现在开始，WildBrain Studios 将制作该系列动画。 他们还负责《幻影忍者》电视剧，尽管该剧是 3D 的，而不是像《悟空小侠》那样的 2D 电视连续剧。 编剧和配音演员保持不变，但可能会有新人加入团队。

Some artists work as freelancers for the team. I don't know how WildBrain Studios' 2D department hires their artists. If they were invited back to the show, some of their work might be similar to their work from previous seasons. But that consistency may not hold true under new directors. We'll have to wait until the end of the season to see the TV show's credits.

一些艺术家作为团队的自由职业者。 我不知道WildBrain Studios的2D部门是如何聘请他们的艺术家的。 如果他们再次受邀参与节目，他们的一些作品可能会与前几季的作品相似。 但在新董事的领导下，这种一致性可能不会成立。 我们必须等到本季结束才能看到电视节目的制作人员名单。

Previous seasons used "frame-by-frame" animation, all drawn by hand. Based on the trailer, the new season appears to include the use of "rig animation," which is the use of technology to move characters and objects.

前几季使用“逐帧”动画，全部由手工绘制。根据预告片，新一季似乎包括使用“装备动画”，即使用技术来移动角色和物体。

All of these changes will impact Season 5 and beyond. I don't know how fan support affects entertainment distribution in China, but over here, if a show doesn't get enough views upon release, it may be abandoned by the distributor and have a hard time continuing. We will give as much support as possible in the West, although the success of the Monkie Kid LEGO sets and TV show has always and will always depend on its performance in China.

所有这些变化都将影响第五季及以后的内容。 我不知道粉丝的支持如何影响中国的娱乐发行，但在这里，如果一个节目在发行时没有获得足够的观看次数，它可能会被发行商放弃，很难继续下去。 我们将在西方给予尽可能多的支持，尽管悟空小侠乐高套装和电视节目的成功将始终取决于其在中国的表现。

Change can be difficult, and it's okay if you feel disappointed or upset. While waiting over the past year, we’ve been teased by the writers and voice actors that this story will be emotional and heartbreaking, and we trust the writers who have carried the story of Monkie Kid, so I hope you will consider watching season 5.

整个变化可能会令人震惊，如果您感到失望或不安也没关系。 在过去一年的等待中，我们被编剧和配音演员取笑，说这个故事将是感人且令人心碎的，我们相信那些承载了悟空小侠故事的编剧，所以我希望你能考虑观看这一季 5.

#lol okay excuse the hashtags you might not have wanted to see this post come up on the feed but yes; I need help #monkie kid #lego monkie kid #lmk #flying bark productions #monkie kid season 5 #lmk s5 #flying bark studios #wildbrain studios #wildbrain #translation needed #mandarin translation #mandarin translation needed

[silviakundera]

Joy of Life Episode 15 and 16 liveblogging

This is my first watch, so don't tell me secrets ;)

This massacre just doesn't feel like a crown prince move? 🤔🤔

Going back to the reason they were on Cow Street... Are they going to figure out that Si Lili is a northern qing agent?

Looks like me and ML are on the same page..?

Yeah I remember when she burned her cover earlier. Damn ur bro died because you trusted a mysterious stranger who you knew to be a good liar, able to defeat knockout drugs, and not a real courtesan. In retrospect, not a good look. Idiotic forced romance misunderstandings are the mind killer.

Now he's gonna hire crooked map seller as his subordinate... we'll see how that goes.

I suppose I better learn his name: Wang Qinian, Wang Qinian, Wang Qinian!

We got a backhug! Very romance.

Dad shows up for him at the bridge.

The horses are imperial army. This is stirring up my carefully repressed conspiracy theory that ML's a Secret Royal.

Ok so.... Those guards are from the emperor's personal army. And who is The Bureau Head? Do we know??? He and Dad had "not an ordinary friendship". (also the english subs are using "he" but I don't see 他 used in the Mandarin subs? I guess I'll just presume the subbers know more than me)

Fan Daddy and the Emperor are super interesting together. This is the closest to anyone who's been able to go toe to toe with the emperor. For a moment they almost walked side by side (still dad a step behind). Here we finally see how he could have captured the heart (or at least the friendship?) of the iconic woman ML' mom is reported to be.

I'm actually the most interested about the emperor's relationship with Marvolous Mom. Were they frenemies? besties? lovers? comrades in arms? She was so larger than life, I can't believe she didn't mean SOMETHING to him. Did she have a hand in the shaping of the foundation of his rule, 16+ years ago? 🤔

Lord Zhu is also tracking Si Lili. Hope you help the cause instead of fucking the chase up

lololololol crap maps strike again!

This plan is awful. ... oh good, ML agrees

Ok, she's disappearing! But WHERE???

This is all very exciting! I hope they catch her! Go team go!

Finally he gets to use his poison skills again \o/

Episode 16

Is there anything that Wang Qinian doesn't know?! He may be the most powerful master in the land 👑

"When I met Si Lili for the first time, I drugged her." "Lord, is this a good addiction?" LMAOOOOOOOOOOOO

I'm enjoying the ridiculousness of this chase. Reminds me of the circular "if you suspect that I suspect that you would have suspected..." battle of wits from The Princess Bride

There she is!

Now she's asking the question I have - how is luring him here gonna put him in peril?

ah, naturally an ambush! So how will she be defeated?

...soliders? Did he send a carrier pigeon?

The Black Knights belong to the head... Who is the head?????? Uncle Wu? Grandma?

Chen Pingping?? The king of assassins. If I should already know who this is, you're laughing at me right now.

He's using the public display offense again

Royal Princess has a 1 track mind. Come on, CP! I'm (sort of) rooting for you. Not in the power struggle, but to have your own ambitions and get out from under your wacked aunt's thumb. She's lost perspective & she's not on your side, just her own.

ML is very smart but even if she tells him something, why believe it

I don't trust this water

Don't trust her ML!! This is not Arkham Asylum catch & release

Wang Qinain works for Chen Pingping, right? The way he was fishing was super suspicious.

Yan Ruohai keeps having to save ML's ass, how tragic for him

'I thought you were going to save me?' Si Lili, girl are you for real?! He offered to save you IF you cooperated and you didn't.

Why do I feel like ML doesn't trust Wang Qinain as much as he pretends to?

Sister Ruoruo visiting the Crown Prince? What's the deal there? She's promising to join his team... Why? Like me does she suspect that he's chasing after Fan Xian as a deluded compulsion, like a dog after an ambulance..? So she thinks if she explains his moves the CP will realize he's not a real threat? Or is she trying to spy on him? Or.. she really just wants to hedge her bets? 🤔

UGH the fact that 🍗 just gives these weak ass little protests to her mom and brother but doesn't fight for the guy she clearly likes. Not even manipulative tears! sigh. Just crumbles like a paper bag. She and ML are cute when they're alone but perhaps her personality is just not my cup of tea.

The person 🍗's bestie saw is also the person that is coming to interrogate Si Lili.... Right?????

#joy of life #silvia watches jol #silvia watches #cdrama

[flame-shadow]

OKAY im gonna ramble about Mossy Fool, my beloved. this will not be comprehensive, and some of what i've said about him previously has been adjusted or changed. no big deal. it's good to develop characters and reassess parts that might've been a bit rough in a previous pass. i'll try to include images occasionally but they'll mostly be reused from stuff i've already posted

yahoo here we go!

a few quick facts:

- he was a moss knight devoted to unn. he cared [and still does care] deeply for his god and his kin.

- he has always been prone to violence but not in a malicious way. he is enthusiastic, energetic, strong, and can get carried away easily.

- he took in the Infection willingly to get a size and strength buff while he was in the Colosseum. this also affected his moss cloak.

- he had a name, but he doesn't remember it. he is The Mossy Fool and most people just call him Mossy. he doesn't seem bothered by this. [depending on who he interacts with in the "postgame" and how they bond, he can start to be bothered by this lack of a true name. i have explored this via RPs but i don't know how it would manifest in a no-other-people's-characters version of his story]

- between the Infection, the Colosseum, and head injuries, mossy doesn't remember a lot of his past, and he has a hard time remembering things in the short term either. he's had bugs he teamed up with in the Colosseum, but he doesn't remember them now. he's probably made commitments and promises that he no longer remembers making nor who they were made to. he doesn't remember much of his culture. it is mostly through routine that he has managed to remember unn - after every battle, he repaints his shield, both to cover any scratches and as a calming ritual and reminder.

Sometimes I'm a bit vague on the details of how he's managed to not be consumed by the Colosseum. It's sort of a plot contrivance but whatever. I explain it as Unn calling to him like she does for all her other children based off some of the dream nail dialogue we get in the game.

mossy is a self-indulgent character who sometimes gets special privileges because i like him a lot heehee

okay but what im kinda emo about today is how his life would've been so much different [and arguably better] if things had gone a little bit differently while he was still a moss knight. because if he'd been able to develop better self control earlier, he wouldn't have accidentally killed a fellow knight in a minor scuffle and been sent out. that had been the final straw after many warnings and attempts at helping him and training him to be more careful. if he couldn't keep from harming his kin, then he couldn't be trusted to protect them.

and that's what sends him seeking places to fight where he doesn't have to be as careful and can actually go all out and have fun. he finds that in the Colosseum. oh, he had a lot of fun there...

but! if he'd managed to rein himself in. if he'd managed to control his tendencies a little better...

he was well suited to become a paladin. he's always had strong devotion and connection to unn. he could have become something more than a knight. he wouldn't have let a rank like that get to his head. he'd have been happy and proud of his duties and responsibilities. he'd have had a positive impact on his tribe. his affinity with plants could've developed well and he could've had a less invasive connection.

....also, he could've been a boss fight akin to hive knight guarding vespa. Moss Paladin. he'd have two phases, and the second phase would have vines and thorns and be very cool.

however, because he was kicked out, he had the opportunity to explore more of Hallownest than just Greenpath, he was able to meet other bugs and be exposed to other languages and cultures. he suffered a lot at the Colosseum, but it also fulfilled him in many ways.

and now that he's older, a tiny bit wiser, and a good deal less likely to accidentally kill another person, he can interact and bond with people he never would've had the chance to otherwise.

and although it's awkward for a while, he can visit his home. and once he has shed his fool's armor, he'll be welcomed back. The Infection did a number on the ranks of the moss knights, and having someone who has so much battle experience would be helpful to both protect his home and people and to help build up the ranks again.

i had something else i said, but then tumblr ate it and some of what i had typed just above, so that's cool. i'll just end here before more stuff potentially disappears. bleh

final fun fact! i used to draw moss knights with four eyes, and mossy had two of his injured from a slash which went diagonally across his face. i decided to simplify his design to only one pair of eyes, so now he's only got one eye.

i love this man idk how well this comes through cuz rambling on tumblr feels a little hit and miss on how much my excitement comes through [and fighting with the site to not eat what i write is frustrating] but yeah! here he is! if you wanna read more, here are some old posts where ive also talked about him, and i think most is still accurate

this post where i talk about his cloak and their relationship in more depth

and this one which is sort of an overview of a few things about him plus another depiction of his low health state where the moss takes over self defence [the post also includes stuff on cyra and jerome which is a bonus because i also love them a lot]

#mossy fool #beloved #rambling #oc tag #im gonna add IDs in an edit cuz i don't want tumblr to eat this thing in case i mess up something somehow #enjoy! #edit- okay IDs added #long post

[vegalocity]

Do Macaque and Spider Queen get Oblivion make overs in the bad end too?

So i put off answering this because i was planning on actually drawing it out by way of answer, but i just got rammed HEADFIRST into some really bad artist's block so i'm just gonna type it out instead and hope when my artist brain kicks back into gear I'll remember to elaborate visually with what i'm thinking about

So Spider Queen in the 'Red Wakes up' Ending as we've said basically gets 'Get out'd into essentially being a free-use slave as her 'redemption' (with the caveat that she has safeguards in her brain to keep anyone from Trying AnythingTM) and this is after the rebellion gets caught and ousted, so she would be marked as what the court would probably call 'terrorism' or smth, so I think they'd put a little 'humiliation' aspect into her usual outfit and keep her in full Spider Queen Regalia, like a 'look at how good the rehabilitation that we've kinda gone mask-off about being mind control is! the SPIDER QUEEN is the one carrying your groceries home and rocking your crying baby while you take a pee break or smth

Macaque meanwhile, well, if you've seen the stuff @unseelie-robynx has gotten up to in regard to Macaque's ending in all of this then it's very clear that he's had a bit of an 'age regression' thing going on, forcing him into the sort of 'Kid brother emphasis on the KID' mindset that also helps Wukong stay in line since its a play on his memories and nostalgia for when things were simpler

so Macaque's outfit would be very 'traditional' very regalia very princely, but also very CHILDISH. like the little kid prince in the cartoon that has a tiny crown that's just perched on the top of his head type thing. (though his isn't a Tiny Crown but a certain circlet but thats neither here nor there) and of course, the glamor that hides his ears is taken down, and likely they're even emphasized with cuffs and such

because Wukong likes Liu 'er's ears and he should be proud of them, so he now always shows them. the glamors covering his scars can stay though, it's unsightly and reminds everyone of 'bad memories' and bad memories cause headaches that send everyone back to the Prince so he can soothe the worries away so it's better to just keep them hidden

#tyrant prince AU #red wakes Up ending #letters to vega #lmk #dark #psychological horror #lmk Macaque #lmk Spider QUeen

[maguro13-2]

The Dark Beginnings ~ Origins of the Ink Demon Chapter 0 Pt.18 (1/2) ~

[Inside Baba Yaga Castle - South America]

Ashley : Alright, Penny. We're inside of Baba Yaga castle. Now all we have to do is to find the nest of Jorogumo.

Penny : (via communication) Great, you guys! Now get a move on! This place is crawling with heartless, you got the devices ready?

Ashley : Sure thing!

Penny : (via communication) Alright, this might be their goodbyes so that the DWMA would never, ever cause a global threat anymore! Once we put the devices onto the castle's walls, KABOOM! No more conflicts between Death and the Spider Demon! Sounds pretty cool like we're in a spy movie, don't you think?

Ashley : *sweatdrop* Uhh, right.

Kimial Diehl : Don't mind the guards. Play it cool. Baba Yaga's castle is nothing more than going down in a construction accident once put all of the devices for an implosion.

Ashley & Penny : You mean "Explosion".

Kimial Diehl : Yeah, sort of. Anyway, we're in the right position. Here come some of the other members.

Eruka : Hey there you two, you must be the person from State of Virginia.

Ashley : Umm...(mimics as a men) Yep, I'm from Virginia and what state are you from...?

Eruka : ...Louisiana, the Southern state of the country and it's my family's homeland. I'm Eruka, Eruka Frog.

Ashley : (mimics in a men voice) Louisiana? You don't say? Yeah, Louisiana's a great state too?

Eruka : Kinda...You know this is my first time of meeting the mother of weapons herself, Arachne Gorgon, but I don't know where the other Arachne Gorgon is...

Ashley : (mimics in a man's voice) Other Arachne Gorgon? Wait, are you talking about the real one that is hiding somewhere?

Eruka : Yep! And that is why...The Arachne Gorgon I know is a web-slinging piece fo spider garbage that does not to compare to the other spider woman! Oh she thinks that I'm too grateful I was being an absolute d*ckhead for delivering pizzas and helping their uncles to fix the DAMN DOOR! Yeah, that's right! I--(covers mouth)

Ashley : (mimics in a man's voice) Sorry to hear that folks! This person has no idea what she's talking about! She's just saying some random stuff and that is all we needed to talk about that! So we must talk privately in the...You got a bathroom in this place? We would like to use it.

Darkside : Oh, umm, It's right over there...Hmm? (looks down on Kimial)

Kimial Diehl : Oh no! Must act quick! Pretend something that I lost everything. (pretends to find her contacts) Oh darn! These stupid contacts that I dropped are getting on my nerves! Oh, there it is! I better go wash it off quickly!

(cuts to the three at the bathroom)

Eruka : Phew! That was close! Good thing we're in the rest and peace room. But we did take the Ladies side. *SLAP!* Ow! What was that for?

Ashley : What are you doing interfering with the mission!? Are you trying to blow our cover to think that we're gonna get caught if those guys are gonna see you like this!?

Kimial Diehl : You crazy, man!? That will ever doom the entire mission if you keep on messing up the mission? This is a secret, okay? So Let's take of these disguises. (both her and Kimial take off their disguises) Man, this thing is making us sweat like were covered in Bacon grease!

Ashley : I really got to put some Deodorant right now. I might not be bacon grease, but I'm sweating like gym socks during Gym class. This reminds me of my training as a detective back in the old days, and so does you, Kimial. You've done mostly some of your training did you?

Kimial Diehl : Of course. That's why I was recruited to join the force after the passings of my mother, I always did some of my training back at the academy when we were doing some B-ball at the court! That our first time playing ball with you! It was our first game to play.

Ashley : Don't you mean Basketball? It's what we say in America.

Eruka : Basketball? Did you say "Basketball"? Oh my gosh, I love Basketball! It's my favorite sports from the world and I did it once in Japan. Plus, Slam Dunk hadn't been reaching the tournament since they terminated off the show. (takes off disguise to reveal herself)

[Nimue ~ Lady of the Lake - Yutaka Minobe]

Kimial Diehl : Hold the phone. You're...a witch?

Ashley : Deja Vu.

Eruka Frog : Sorry for the trouble I caused back there. My name is Eruka Frog and I was known as the princess of the wetlands.

Kimial Diehl : Let me object that for a momment. Are you saying that you are a princess of the wetlands.

Eruka Frog : That's right my mother's a magician and my father's a frog. So that mean's that I'm the descendant of Mamu, the Frog King.

Ashley : Huh...wait a sec, Frogs can be father's, mother's can be a human or a witch, and you being a descendant. You're really part of a line of Froggy Rulers? You must be the Great Wart's future relative!

Eruka Frog : That's right, I was part of the Great Wart's bloodline of all Frogs. I was part of the Wart Family for generations and I discovered that the I used to have a family tree connected to my own blood. I was one of the first witches to have a family witches and frogs. My brothers and sisters were frog princes and witches as well. I was the child raised in the Wetlands of Louisiana, the wetlands were my homeland and I was the one that protected my family's sacred treasure. My people were have guarded the wetlands as a sacred forest to family's heritage and people from the city of New Orleans were all too deemed to be friendly. The French Quater maybe.

Kimial Diehl : So you come from a line of frogs, and you were the princess of the wetlands. You had an amazing lifestyle in the state. Your people are frogs that ruled the wetlands of the southern states before the humans destroyed everything and took their land since St Augustine became the first city in the country. And was Florida's First and original state capital. The very foundation to the state at least I'd might say that in person. Geography is sure kind cool when it comes to the globe. So much for being a smart girl that knows about the planet that much. So why are you here anyway? What's the point of being a spy to infiltrate just to destroy the spider demon for anything for what?

[Tragedy - Kenichi Tokoi]

Eruka Frog : Because my homeland was attacked by Heartless and I needed your help of reclaiming the frogs wetlands and restore my people's name. I fight for survival in protection of the wetlands, but humans and their selfish deeds did this to my homeland as well. Why my people suffered everything? Why did they suffered their own fate!? Are humans to damage to the ones they loved so dearly, the wetlands, the rainforests, everything that I cherished for my people's sake! And the worst fate for a Frog Prince and a Frog Witch that is worse than death, Disection by Science Teacher from Biology classes.

Kimial Diehl : Biology? Frogs meet their own fates by being disected? Is that what harms mother nature because the human nature is what humans become arrogant for their own ways of being an arrogant species to our planet. That's why intergalatic beings doesn't like to come this planet due to the race's own nature.

Eruka Frog : I would never forgive the humans for the frog kingdom's sacrifice!

Ashley : Yeah, I totally understand that. Let's just wash our hands first.

Kimial Diehl : Yeah, I get the point that every family have wonders originating from mix species like Princess and the Frog, or Beauty and the Beast. But consider Disney a total wuss from their lawyers. You should consider to be the damsel in distress in your own story. (about to get some soap, which she accidentally blew a bubble) Uh-oh. Oops! I think I blew a big mistake.

Ashley : Oh boy.

Eruka Frog : Not good.

Ashley : It's probably nothing. Hey, where's it going? More imporantly, this whole bathroom is full of bubbles! (it is revealed that the restroom is full of floating bubbles) Who's idea was it to blow bubbles in the bathroom!?

Eruka Frog : That wasn't part of the mission! Nobody in the restroom would ever blow bubbles from the hand soap!?

Ashley : I knew I should never do that before we did it on purpose. Good thing I brought some hand sanitizer for each and everyone.

Kimial Diehl : That can't be good! What could be worse than this!? I mean someone blowing bubbles in the bathroom!? That's gonna be a load off my back! At least we're fine in the bathroom since nobody would--

Darkside : --What the he-HEY! Who in Kami's name blew this bubble!? (pops bubble) Who's the dead man that was messing with the restroom's hand soap!? WHO THE F*** DID IT!? I see anyone blowing bubbles is a mere grunt or an imbecile that anyone knows that playing with the restroom's hand soap is not a thing and some idiot decided to play with it! Well, You know all the rules in this place and here's what we say!

All : All Bubble Blowing Babies will be beaten senseless by ever able bodied patron in the bar.

Darkside : So It is my attention that we have a spy that slipped through the perimeter and I do not like Spies that come from a spy movie. So anyone in this castle that is a dead blowing a bubble, so who did it!

Kimial Diehl : [quietly] Pop em now, before we blow our clover!

Ashley : [quietly] Right away! (starts popping the bubbles as well for Eruka)

Eruka Frog : You know, popping bubbles is more fun to children playing bubbles.

Ashley & Kimial : (quietly) Quiet! And don't make a sound!

Darkside : So on any occasions that all foods at the caffeteria will be off limits from the spies and anyone who goes near our novelty items and gifts from the Arachnophobia Snack bar, we will put a lockdown on the castle. Therefore...

(we show the three exiting the ladies' room, and this time they are in their disguises as Arachnophobia members)

Ashley : (look both ways) Okay, looks like we'll buy them some time. This way to stall them for their discussion, then we'll point to the direction the room where Jororgumo is. Come on, follow me. I hope we gave our selves some hand sanitizer.

Kimial Diehl : Right behind ya, partner. Totally in the bag. Nothing's much in person.

Eruka Frog : Oh boy, being into a stealthy mission is a great success. Thanks for lending me a hand to you, guys. I would've done this without your help.

Kimial Diehl : My pleasures. I bet these Arachnophobia suckers don't know what the heartless will never find out that it's in a Metal Gear Game style and anyone from Metal Gear would say...

Ansem : Whose footprints are these? Excuse me, are these your footprints?

Eruka Frog : I think somebody's inside the castle with those heartless.

Ashley : [To Eruka] You don't say?

Eruka Frog : Well, somebody is here to say that line?

Kimial Diehl : Of course it's our foortprints, sir. Nobody else but us. We're just doing fine at the castle, so it's best that we do our behaviors and must be going to do something at the arcade.

Ansem : Really? Is that the question you've asked?

Kimial Diehl : Yep. You hardly recognize, Seeker of Darkness. We're just heading to the arcade! Now don't you mind if we may can pass through...

Ansem : Wait a sec. That voice, it does not sounded like any men. It sounded like...(takes off mask to reveal Kimial's face) a witch!

Darkside : Witch? What witch? I don't remember seeing a witch in the--(gasped in shock) You! You're not the guy from Virginia, you're that witch from Salem! It's one of the detectives that seeks in the eyes of truth! We have secret spies that were being so stealthy! So what about these two there were in the ladies restroom!

Ansem : *sniffing* I know that witchy smell, these two trespassers that are not the members of this faction...are also witches! (takes off the masks)

[Shut Your Mouth - Jun Senoue]

Ansem : So, I see you three vermins have entered Arachnophobia's territory, or should I say the nest of the heartless Jorogumo itself!

Ashley : Darn we've been detected! I mean...(in a calm voice) Damn! We've been detected!

Ansem : You should've know better than coming to the nest of Jorogumo, you underestimated to find out that their plan on possessing a threat to the school was about overthrowing the Kusakabe legacy. Figuring that you would mind find out the truth! So I guaranteed that you all wanted to find that the conflict between Death and Arachne is nothing more than an excuse or a lie, the son of the devil never met the Gorgon Sister's in person. He went all the earth's problem for a heartless created by the real Arachne Gorogn!

Eruka Frog : So the leader of the faction is a phony!? An Imposter!? I thought the Gorgon Sister were using us as pawns in a corrupt game!

Ansem : This was a corrupt game! A game between the factions of Humans and witches conflicting against each other in their own demise and carried something in their hands that are red with their blodd! The hatred has grown stronger, their hatred has made Darkness even stronger!

Ashley : Why you heartless scum! I will never forgive for what you've done to our people! You made Shinigami and Maba this way, you made their kind to go against each other! You and the others did it, weren't you!?

Ansem : (chuckles) Far from it. But enough talk. Jorogumo would like to have a word with you. (snaps fingers to magically knock em out) Talk about wolves in sheep's clothing. It's time that they'll meet Jorogumo in person and in time, this planet shall definitely fall into darkness or whether it can't be destroyed by the hands of true evil itself! (laughs evilly)

"Suddenly, we have no idea why Humans and Witches conflicted each other."

"Maybe we were wrong about this."

"What can really change their own destiny?"

~ Prologue 18 : Operation Jorogumo Pt.2 ~

#super mario bros #super smash bros #warioware #kingdom hearts #soul eater #fire force #nintendo #square enix #disney #crossover #drama #dark comedy #horror #mystery #thriller #supernatural #dark fantasy #science fiction #action #romance #psychological

[beetchy-keen]

I love when I wake up at 1 am and see my sister was sending nasty texts just a couple hours ago, expecting me to be awake to act as the mediator between her and the youngest.

Get ready for a long post containing family drama that I needed to get off my chest or I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. This is a rant, please skip over as you see fit.

First of all, this was between her and the youngest, and did not need to be in the group text. Got an issue with the chore that the youngest is assigned to do? Text her and ask. If she doesn't answer fast enough, call her and calmly ask.

Second of all, there was no need to be ugly about it. It was the youngest birthday and she might have slacked a bit, but that only requires a bit of firmness. The youngest may be in her 20s, but we three know she has a disability that makes her like a teenager. My sister and I are the adults here and need to act accordingly.

Thirdly, my sister knows I have an interview tomorrow. She knows that it's critical I get this job, so why would I stay up as late as she does? Seems as counter intuitive as me staying up to write this out, but her text got me mad enough to stay awake, so in the most sibling-love way, fuck her for that. My sleep schedule will not match up to her expectations because I actually enjoy being up early as it works better for my more mom-like role in this house.

What's hilarious is she's expecting me to stay in this house and continue to put up with all this. My plan is to get my bills on track, save up for a deposit and get an apartment as soon as possible. 2-3 bedroom if necessary to give the youngest a less hostile home, maybe rent a house if it's necessary to save the dogs that are actually well behaved from being taken to the pound by my sister. That would wreck her expectation of being paid any sort of rent to help with the bills and probably make home ownership even harder on her, but that's what happens when you lash out at family. I'll always love her, but I'm not inclined to help.

My plan is to give her money to help cover the expenses of paying for my sister and I over the past couple of months, to make things right as well. Also I intend to take over the youngest's expenses so my sister has nothing financial to hold over her head.

You know, I'm just fucking mad because this isn't the youngest's fault in any way. She has become the scapegoat for my sister and her boyfriend because she can't defend herself. It's not her fault her disability makes it harder for her to find work. It's not her fault she consumes groceries intended for others when no one labels or communicates that. Yes, it is on her to keep up with her chores, but like with teenagers she does need to be reminded of what to do, and talked to accordingly, not have someone bitch her out. They haven't come after me like this because my sister is hoping to have someone to watch her house in 3 years, but I've had it.

Maybe in 3 year's time I'd consider moving back into my sister's house when she has to be stationed somewhere else to take care of it. But I'm not gonna tell her that when I leave, she can just look at me like the villain, because I know she's not gonna see that it was her behavior that caused it.

[twjournals]

So Wrong It's Right

Sequel: What's Wrong is Right

Warning: dark!Peter Parker x reader, DUB-CON, manipulation, age gap, drinking

PLEASE READ MY WARNING BEFORE CONTINUING. I am not responsible for your media consumption. Any and all negativity will be blocked.

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: You're an old troubled friend of May's. Your life consists of being a workaholic, a party animal, and bringing home the shittest of guys for a one-hit-wonder. Just when you get your life in order, you're knocked right back into your old habits. Peter has watched you suffer long enough. He can make it all better.

Your life was far from where you thought you would be. It was sad to say, but you were anything but a role model. Yet May still tolerated you, regardless of Peter. Maybe she used you as an example to show Peter what not to be or maybe she was just too good of a friend to leave you on your own. To say the least, your life was a mess but you could not be more grateful to have a friend like May.

"Peter, go get me a wet rag, please," May spoke quietly. Peter left your side once he helped May get you over to the couch. You were beyond the limits that someone should be drunk.

You were in a fit of hiccups, giggling to yourself as May bent down to take off your heels. You had far too many drinks, that much was clear.

"Maaay, you.." you hiccupped, "are suuuch a good.." you hiccupped again, "friend."

May shook her head with a sigh, taking in the drunken sight of you. She was not sure how you managed to let yourself get this far gone, but every time you would drink, this is how you ended up. Either you had zero limits or you loved to push the limits you did have.

"Pet-" May started to call over her shoulder, but Peter was already hurrying in the room with his hands full.

"I'm here, Aunt May." Peter reminded and she watched as Peter sat the trash can nearby the couch. He then placed the bottle of water on the table with some medicine for the headache he knew would come with your awake in the morning. He kneeled down beside you on the couch, pressing the rag to your forehead.

May only smiled to herself as she pulled the blanket from its spot on the back of the couch and pulled it over your figure. She didn't say anymore. Peter had seen his Aunt May take care of you many nights when you were so shit-faced it was a wonder you could still see faces.

Your head was propped up against a pillow on the couch as Peter wiped your forehead with the cool rag. Your skin was burning up. Peter could not help but wonder how you let yourself get like this. You were quite a few years younger than May, but it amazed him how different the two of you were to be the best of friends.

You were fast asleep in no time, making Peter smile as his eyes gazed over your face. He had always thought you were so beautiful. Too precious to be taken advantage of by the guys you went after. He witnessed many nights when you had told Aunt May about a new guy you had hooked up with. Everyone knew it was nothing more than a one-night stand, but Peter could not help but hate any guys that touched you only for only their benefit.

It was not until you had eventually settled down with a guy you had met from one of your nightstands that you finally stopped ending up on May's couch. You had moved on with your life, still keeping in contact with May every now and then. You were happy. Not just the sex but he was truly seemed like a guy you could see yourself spending forever with.

You had stopped drinking. You had stopped going out to parties. After the first year, you had moved into the city and got an apartment together. Another year later, you guys were engaged and everything seemed to fall into place. After 3 years, the wedding was right around the corner.

Your world moved at a quicker pace now considering all the things you needed to get done before the wedding. In between work and house chores, you were planning for your big day.

As time went by, you were so wrapped up in your own little world you did not notice the slow-burning flame in your partner slowly being put out. While your plans had been coming together, your relationship was falling apart. You had for the most part ignored all the signs and assumed he was having a bad day. It amazed you how many he was having. When you would try to talk to him, it seemed useless since you could never get him to talk about it. In reality, it all brewed into something bigger. It all hit you like a ton of bricks.

You had been working later hours than usual for extra money. It wasn't cheap, but you had told yourself it was okay to want the things you wanted. After all, this was going to be your first and hopefully wedding. You wanted everything to be perfect. You even tried to get opinions from your fiance to include his vision of it, but he insisted you were better at this sort of thing. You couldn't argue with that.

You wrapped up your work at the office fairly early so you decided to call it a night and surprise your fiance. You felt like everything was on track. One night worry-free was much needed. You had earned it.

You pushed open the front door to your apartment before walking through the living room into the kitchen. You sit your keys on the counter, placing your bag on the stool by the counter. You peered around the apartment for a moment. All the lights were off and it was quiet. Had he already gone to bed? You checked the time.

7:13pm

You were surprised you did not hear his game or at least him yelling at it. You started down the hallway to the bedroom you shared, staring at the closed door. Why was it closed when it was just him? You shook the thought a little too soon. Maybe if you had just thought a little longer, you would have prepared yourself for what was on the other side.

You pushed the door open just a little to see inside when you heard a faint moan from the other side. Your heart stopped. You stood in shock taking in the sight of the man you were in love with hovered over another girl in your bed under your covers. Your face was hot in embarrassment, anger. You were feeling so many things right now you could not think straight. You were hurt.

"Are you serious??" You blurted out, causing them both to jump to try and cover themselves.

"You're sick, Chris." She shoved his chest, pushing him off of her as she quickly got out of the bed. "He told me you guys were no longer together."

She scowled as she hurried to gather her clothes off the floor and pulling them on. If it were even possible, your eyes could have burned holes through the girl. You were in disbelief. Your jaw would have already been on the floor if it wasn't connected to your face.

"I'm so sorry." She mumbled, embarrassed as she hurried past you out of your apartment.

You were left to deal with Chris. You starred at him with tears kissing your eyes.

"I-"

You took a deep breath, shaking your head. "Don't."

"I can explain." He started to get out of the bed to dress.

"There's nothing to explain, Chris." You stared at him, trying to restrain yourself from coming across the room and punching him in the face for acting like an explanation could even justify his actions.

"She meant nothing to me." He started to walk over to you.

“You told her we weren’t together. How is that nothing?”

“It felt like we weren’t. You were so busy.” He tried to touch your arm but you shoved his hand away.

"Don't you dare think about touching me when you were just touching another woman." You looked at him with dark eyes, struggling to fight back the cry. He wasn't worth your tears. "I want you to get out."

"Get out?! Where am I gonna go?"

"I don't know." You shrugged your shoulders. "Maybe you could have thought that through."

He frowned, running his fingers through his hair frustrated. "It doesn't have to be like this. Can't we just talk this out?"

"No!" You shouted at him, making his eyes grow wide. You could tell he wasn't telling this as seriously as you. "I don't want to look at you right now." You turn to leave the room, but he grabs your arms to turn you to face him.

"Please. Look, I can- I can stay on the couch tonight. I'll give you your space and when you're ready we can talk about it. I was wrong for that. I fucked up and I'm sorry." You yanked yourself from his hold.

"You can give me space by leaving. Pack yourself a bag and go."

"I love you, Y/n. I never meant to hurt you."

You shook your head as your eyes wandered over the bed to where they once were before meeting his eyes. "You mean you never meant to get caught."

He sighed before hanging his head in defeat and walking by you to gather up some of his things. You didn't move from your spot. Only stared at the mess of a bed. The place you made love to him while he made love to another. You listened to the front door close behind him on his way out before you finally covered your face, letting the tears fall.

For days, weeks, all you could seem to do was feel sorry for yourself. You couldn't find the strength to get out of bed. No matter how many calls you received, you let them ring through to voicemail. Everything you had felt for him was in ruins. You changed for him. You let yourself grow for him and even that wasn't enough. After all the time you spent picking up after him, cooking, cleaning, planning, staying loyal for crying out loud. You didn't know what else he could of you.

You had called off the wedding in the time you stayed closed up in your apartment. Even took some time off of work to handle it all. You took that time to gather every piece of him scattered around the apartment and packed it up. You wanted to end this as painless as possible aside from the pain you were already feeling. You had thrown away the sheets and replaced them, even get a new comforter and it still didn't feel the same anymore to lay in your bed. You stared at your phone beside you as it lit up for what felt like the hundredth time. You finally sighed, lifting the phone. You knew without even looking at the name it was from him.

You canceled the wedding? It doesn't have to be like this. I still love you, Y/n. You were so busy with work and all the planning. You abandon me. Whenever I wanted your attention, you were always too tired to pay any attention to me.

It's like the girl I fell in love with was gone. Some time ago, you couldn’t keep your hands off of me now it’s like I have to beg you to touch me.

You're being selfish.

You can't be THAT mad, Y/n. I’m a man. I have needs. You were busy and she was willing to help. We can fix this. Don’t give up 3 years. Don’t give up on me.

There were loads more, but you could not care to bother reading the rest. You tossed your phone back down on the bed, rubbing your hands over your face. You didn't owe him anything, not even a response. The girl he was talking about was not gone. She was only on hold to plan a wedding by herself and it was more stressful than he knew. You wanted to forget everything that had happened. You wanted to forget you wasted 3 years of your life planning on growing old with this man.

--

You weren't sure how you had got this far and with that being said, May wasn't either. You had talked May into joining you to a night out at a club. She needed a night to herself and you needed a break from everything. Along with that, if you had stayed inside that house a moment longer, you might have gone insane.

"You're going to be hammered if you keep on like that." May reminded with a laugh, both of you clinging onto the bar and each other for the extra support. You thanked the bartender as he pushed your last round of shot glasses in front of the two of you.

You smiled, passing a glass to May before keeping one for yourself.

"We can only hope." You winked at the bartender who only chuckled before clinking your shot glass with hers and downing your shot.

Your throat was already numb from all the alcohol you had already numbed it with. May wasn't far behind you. You took your final shot, grinning and pulling May along with you to the dancefloor to get lost in the sea of people. You threw your arms around May's, moving your hips as you both danced to the music.

This was the therapy you needed. Sometimes you had longed for nights like this. You had freedom. You had no worries, aside from worrying who you might wake up beside. But you had fallen in love and even though you had grown up, you had not nearly grown out of this lifestyle. It was all too familiar.

"Hey! I'm going to the bathroom! I'll be back!" May moved closer to you, raising her voice to be heard over the loud music. You nodded, watching her pushing her way through the crowd of people to get to the ladies' bathroom before easing yourself back into your dancing.

You swayed, grinding your hips with the rest of the crowd. You weren't the slightest bit bothered to be dancing by yourself. You used to lose yourself on the dancefloor for hours days after days years ago.

"I've missed this." You heard a familiar voice speak from behind you, startling you when their hands landed on your hips with your sway. They pulled you back against them, catching you off guard. "I've missed you." He mumbled in your ear, sending chills down your spine.

You peaked over your shoulder to make sure your mind was not playing tricks on you. It wasn't. You prayed it was an old one-night stand, but of course, it was the one person you were trying to get away from.

"It doesn't work like that, Chris." You dropped your hands down to his on your hips, trying to push them off your hips but they only hold you tighter. "Get- get off of me." You gritted through your teeth as your eyes glared at him. "Get off!" You raised your voice.

"Now, now, let's not cause a scene. You've had quite a bit to drink haven't you?" He wrapped your arms around your figure, making your blood run cold as his body pressed to yours.

"That's none of your business."

"I'm your fiance. You are my business."

"Ex." You corrected him. His nose flared slightly.

"You really want to go there? You're nothing without me. You're shit-faced in the middle of the club and you can't even accept my help?" He growled and you pushed on his arms.

"I don't need your help."

"You're drunk. You don't know what you need." He spat.

The sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted your argument. "I think I've got it from here." You looked up to put a face to the voice, your eyes widening slightly.

"And you are?" Chris didn't budge while staring down Peter as if challenging him.

Peter was reaching his hand out for yours. "Her boyfriend." You stared up at Peter in shock at how much he had changed over the years and he smiled reassuringly.

Chris stiffed slightly and you could feel his eyes burning a hole into you. "Is that true?"

You didn't take your eyes off of Peter, taking a hold of his hand and letting him pull you out of Chris's arms. "Yes." Your voice was hushed.

Chris scowled. "Wow. I wish you luck there, man. She's a real catch." He laughed, making you look down. You couldn't believe he was really trying to ruin your night when he had already ruined everything else.

Peter only snaked his arm around your waist, letting his hand settle on your hip while his eyes never left Chris's. "She certainly is." He agreed. He gave your body a warm squeeze, grabbing you closer into his embrace. "Now, if you'll excuse us."

With that, he guided you through the crowd off of the dance floor.

"You okay?" He finally broke the silence once he got you back to the bar, sitting you down on one of the stools.

You nodded, letting your eyes wander up to him as he motioned the bartender over. "I'm just curious as to why you're here right now. Aren't you supposed to be in college?"

He smiled as he pulled out his wallet to pay your tab and you grabbed his hand, shaking your head. "No, no. I can pay for my own."

"What if I insist?"

"You don't have to, honestly. I have money."

You started to reach into your purse for some cash but Peter covered your hand, giving you another reassuring smile.

"You'll have plenty of other times to pay. I'll get it this time." He reminded you and you sighed in defeat, giving him a playful scowl. He only grinned, proceeding to pull some cash from his wallet to give to the bartender.

"You didn't answer my question." You continued as he turned back to you.

"I'm still college. I just sometimes stay with Aunt May on the weekends."

"And you just so happened to be here?"

Peter chuckled, pointing in May's direction as she stumbled over her feet returning back to the two of us. "Aunt May called."

You raised your eyebrow, looking over at May as she stood beside you now. "You called Peter?"

"Someone has to get you back home." She reminded you and you hit her arm slightly, tilting your head.

"May, I could have got a taxi or an uber. You didn't have to call him for me." You scowled at her and she shook her head in a tsking manner.

"No, no, no. I called Peter so I can rest assured you got home safely and not by some random stranger."

You rolled your eyes slightly and Peter butted in with an awkward chuckle. "I really don't mind. I don't consider this anything out of the way. I'd rather it be me than some stranger or someone." He noticed him giving the floor a swift scan around the three of you.

"Fine." You pouted your bottom lip slightly before rising from your seat at the bar. "You guys make me feel irresponsible or something." You grabbed a hold of May's arm and pulling her with you to the exit of the club while Peter followed behind the two of you.

"Are you coming?" You muttered over to May and she shook her head.

"Happy is here." Just as the words left her mouth when you started out the door, you spotted Happy parked in front of the building to pick up May. "Peter isn't too bad of a driver." You stopped in front of Happy's car.

"Oh goody, rest secured." You muttered and she laughed. Your arms looped around May's neck, hugging her tight. "I'm so glad to have you back. Message me when you get home." You told her and Happy a quick goodnight before letting her go.

Peter led you over to his car, unlocking the car and opening the passenger side for you. You settled comfortably in the front seat, leaning your head back against the headrest. You didn't like how it felt as if you couldn't take care of yourself, but you were in no position to complain when Peter Parker had yet again saved the day.

--

Peter glanced over at you in the passenger seat from time to time as he drove the distance to your apartment. He tried to keep the glances quick to keep you from noticing. You were just as beautiful as he remembered. It had been years since he had actually seen you, but you seemed like the Y/n he still remembered. Not that it was anything bad. He adored you then, and now a bit more.

He had always had the hots for you for as long as you remembered. Of course, you never minded when you ended up staying with him and Aunt May. You were always kind to Peter and he did his best to nurse you back to health to take on the hangover that awaited you the next morning.

He had never forgotten what you said to him one day while you were sick from the night before. You had been clinging onto the toilet and he had taken the opportunity to hold your hair back out of your face to keep from getting anything in it.

You sighed as he rubbed your back in soothing circles. You leaned against the toilet miserably. That was the day you learned to stay away from tequila.

"I hope I meet a guy at least half as amazing as you someday, Peter."

No doubt did the compliment find its way to his cheeks. He blushed a deep shade of red. He tried to restrain himself from making a big deal but it was a big deal to him. Though he knew he didn't stand a chance right now with his age, it meant if he had been of age, he had a chance. He thought about it even when you had stopped coming around so much. He knew this was all a coping method for you. You were hurting then and he could tell by the way you seemed toward the guy back there that there was more to that counter.

He noticed your shiver as you stared out the window. You mentally cursed yourself for wearing something this revealing. You rubbed your arms to try to warm yourself a little. Peter reached behind him in the back seat to retrieve a hoodie of his he always forgot in the car and handing it to you.

"Here." He offered before fumbling with the heat in the car. He smiled at your quiet thank you, putting your arms in the hoodie and pulling it close for warmth with putting it all the way on. He tried to control the big grin threatening to break across his face.

"I'm sorry you had to keep seeing me like this." You looked over at Peter as he kept his eyes on the road. He didn't realize how thankful you were for him in times like this. It was embarrassing how many times this had happened but you were still thankful Peter didn't think any less of you.

"You really don’t have to apologize.” He smiled at her before turning his attention back to the road.

“I really do though. I feel like you’ve taken care of me enough. I’m grown, you know? It should be the other way around.” You giggled and Peter glanced over at you.

“I’m 21.” He reminded you.

“And I’m pushing 30.”

“You’re 28. You’re still young.” He chuckled.

“Almost 29!” You huffed as he pulled into the parking lot to your apartment. “My point is- you know what my point is.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at your frustration. Your age didn’t matter to him. He could always settle for his MJ, his best friend, but seeing you tonight relit the flame to his crush for you. There was just something about you.

He parked the car in the parking lot, walking around to your side to open the door for you. You slid your arms out of his hoodie and leaving it in the seat as he helped you out of the car. You could feel the shots hitting you all at once when you stood. You stumbled out in your heels, grabbing onto Peter’s arms for support.

“Easy now.” He held onto your waist as he guided you to your apartment, asking for your keys. He took your keys when you dug them out of your pocket, letting you in your apartment.

You couldn’t help but notice all the little things he did for you. You kicked off your heels at the door, stumbling over your own two feet again as you wandered down the hallway to your bedroom. You could hear Peter in the kitchen getting you a bottle of water from the fridge along with some medicine from the medicine cabinet.

You sat on the bed when you hear his footsteps coming down the hallway toward the bedroom. You looked up at him, pouting your bottom lip out slightly when you saw him with a bottle of water and medicine for the headache to come.

He set them down on your nightstand, noticing your pout. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Peter, you’re seriously too good to me.” You sighed.

“How’s that?” He looked down at you as he towered over you.

You motioned over to the stuff he had placed on your nightstand and frowning. “All of this. You- you really didn’t have to do this for me.”

“You’re right I don’t. But I want to. I would want it done for me if I were ever in your shoes.”

You laughed slightly at the thought of Peter drunk and you smiled to yourself. “I would definitely be there anytime you needed me.”

You thought back to all the time you had ever been drunk, remembering all the time you woke up to water and medicine from him. Only from him. Even a trash can in case you were to ever get sick, but you never got that with Chris. You always took care of him, but no one ever took care of you. You shook your head with a frown. You had tried so hard to hold it together, but it felt like you were slowly falling apart. He wasn't worth your tears, yet he was always the cause of them.

He kneeled down in front of you, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Talk to me. Everything okay?”

You couldn’t stop the words from coming out. “Why am I never enough?”

His eyes widened at your words. “You are more than enough and anyone who doesn’t see that, who doesn’t appreciate you and the things you do for them doesn’t deserve you.” He corrected you, his thumb stroked over your jaw as he held your face to keep your attention.

You didn't know what to say. All you could do was stare. Your eyes scanned over his face before stopping at his lips. Don't. Don't you do it. You mentally told yourself. You couldn't control the effect the alcohol had on your mind and your actions. You tried to fight back the urge but the alcohol only pushed down the buriers you had built.

Your lips smashed against his firmly, catching him by surprise. He was frozen about your lips for a first, in shock, this was actually happening but he surely gave in the kiss. Your hands grabbed at the back of his neck and pulling him onto the bed with you without breaking the hungry desperate kiss. His body hovered over yours as your fingers curled against his shirt, gripping on it. You knew it was wrong. It was so wrong, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop.

Your smaller hands slid underneath his shirt, brushing your hands over his defined abs. He was sculpted by a God. He knew he should stop, but he couldn't find it in him to stop. He didn't want to miss his chance to prove himself to you. He wanted to take care of you.

Your lips parted for air even though you left like you could hardly catch your breath when his lips started to kiss down your neck. Your hands tugged on his shirt until you started to pull it up and over your head.

His hands pushed your tight dress up the curves of your body, tossing it beside the bed once he peeled it from your body. Your lips still tingled from the loss of his and you whined quietly, your hand grasped the curls at the nape of his neck to bring his lips back to yours.

He kissed your lips passionately and letting your lips mold together. He could taste the alcohol on your tongue but it didn't bother him any. He had dreamed of this moment since he was a teen. Your fingers worked desperately to undo his jeans, feeling his bulge already through his pants before your hands pushed his pants off of his hips along with your boxers.

You were so desperate. You couldn't stop the whine that escaped against his lips. "Peter, please..." His cock twitched at the sound of his name falling from your lips.

He dragged your panties down your legs swiftly, placing himself back between them when he spread them open again. He peppered light kisses to your lips as he dragged the tip of precum-coated tip through your folds, not wasting any time to give you what you wanted.

You cried out as you clung to Peter's bareback, feeling his cock stretching you in all the ways you craved. You moaned out, letting him swallow them in a kiss as his hips rolled into yours again and again. He sighed in pleasure against your lips as your walls invited him in. You were even better than he could have imagined.

He couldn't believe this was actually happening. His lips covered your body in his kisses, admiring every part of your body as it sang for him. This was nothing like what you used to. He pressed small kisses against your bottom lip, nibbling on it as your core ached with a building climax. Your legs wrapped around his hips, causing you to gasp at the deeper strokes.

Your head fell back against the pillows, a loud moan drawing from your parted lips. Your fingers held onto Peter's hair as he hit that spot over and over, making your eyes roll slightly. You needed so badly for him to stop, but you couldn't bring the words to the surface.

"Oh my god..." Your core tightened with every deep thrust. His cock touched parts of you no guy had ever. You had never felt a climax so fast or so strong. "Please don't stop..." You couldn't fight the words from coming out. Your grip tightened on his dark hair, feeling yourself falling apart with an orgasm with every thrust.

"You're so pretty when you cum." He couldn't stop even if he wanted to. He was not far behind you by the way your walls sucked him in, milking him for all he was worth.

"Do it again. I want to make you cum again." He groaned against your chest as his tongue dragged over your hardened nipple, flicking his tongue against it teasingly before letting out a groan against your warm skin. He didn't want it to stop. He didn't want it to end. "You feel so good, Y/n..."

His hand reached between the two of you, rolling his fingers over your clit in circles. You gripped onto his wrist at the overpowering feeling. You were soaked to the core. This man made you crumble.

"I-I'm gonna cum.." His voice cracked slightly as your walls clenched around him tight In your second orgasm, pushing him over the edge into his first. His cum filled you full, marking you as he pressed delicate kisses across your neck while praising you in the process. "So beautiful, so perfect."

Your eyes were heavy with exhaustion, smiling to yourself when Peter laid down on the bed behind you. He wrapped an arm around your body, pulling you back against his chest.

It only took a matter of seconds for sleep to claim you as Peter pulled a blanket over the both of you tiredly. It was only a matter of time before the morning came to rain on your parade. Bringing along the guilt and regret that followed.

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter x reader #dark!marvel #tom holland fan fic #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker #dub con #peter parker one shot #dark!tom holland

[wizkiddx]

work with me

this is for @worldoftom 'lolbrosgetsicktoo' challenge event thing - go check it out bcos lots of much better writers have got involved too✨! I'm v new to these things but I tried :) the prompt was: 'would you quit whining and just get in the bath' . (also look at me acc posting sort of regularly, who'd of thought?!?!)

warnings: sickness / fever (more dramatic than it needs to be) / LOTS of medical inaccuracies

summary: when tom doesn't take advice and ends up very ill, very far from home, there's one person whose stuck dealing with it

“Please Tom… I need you to work with me!”

It wasn’t his fault he was being a complete nightmare, though your patience was wearing off somewhat.

For context, you were in Morocco, where he had been filming part of his next film, which only made trying to take care of him that bit harder.

Everyone got ill sometimes. It wasn’t his fault.

That was the mantra ringing through your head, even if you had a more challenging time believing it. Tom wasn’t stupid, as much as he liked to joke about it. HOWEVER, what he was less good at was heeding warnings. He was a white boy in Morrocco; the health and safety briefing had literally been aimed at him. Had he taken the advice not to eat any dodgy looking meats at the market?

Of course not; that’d be boring.

Everyone else was fine. You’d all sampled Morroccos culture without giving yourselves the worst case of food poisoning you’d ever witnessed. But not Tom - possibly one of the only ‘indispensable’ people on the set. If you, or one of the minor characters, or even the director, had got ill - the show could continue.

When you’d been rudely awoken by your phone going off, you’d known instantly. It was as if you’d told him not to take a bite out of the weird burger once you were away from the eager view of the street vendor. Sure enough, with bleary eyes, you hissed at the brightness of the phone screen before seeing ‘Tom H’ on the screen.

“Y/n?” His voice was croaky, but just from the single call of your name, it was clear he was feeling sorry for himself.

“Are you okay? It’s late T.”

“Um I… can you come over? You…you might need the key I’m - um- in the bathroom.”

As his stylist, it technically wasn’t part of your job description to also be mother when he was sick, but (unfortunately for you) after the 3 years working side by side with him - you were also friends.

Which you were almost regretting by the second time rinsing the toilet bowl clean after he’d evacuated what seemed to be the majority of his vital organs into it. Honestly, it was impressive how he managed to keep going.

That had been at around 4 in the morning- the doctor had been called at 8, coinciding beautifully with his 5th toilet extravaganza. Once the doctor had confirmed your original, if completely unqualified, diagnosis of food poisoning - you hadn’t been able to bite your tongue. Perhaps an ‘i told you so’ might’ve slipped past your lips, but Tom was a bit too out of it to argue back.

You’d been given firm advice from the doctor - he said little sips of water, rest and control his temperature. It all had seen pretty simple - though the action? Not so much.

It wasn’t his fault, yet Tom was not super compliant. You and Harry had both been taking turns in practically forcing him to take sips of water, having to turn off ‘modern family’ till he did. The blackmail had put you both in his bad book.

Honestly, thank the lord Harry was here too. You’d woken him up at seven, begging for help and since then, you’d tagged teamed. While one was looking after Tom, the other was phoning the director, the doctor, and the crew to inform them of the current situation.

Again, of all people. Why’d it have to be Tom?

Mainly because you knew how mortifying he found this. He didn’t like people fussing over him, never had. He liked to work hard, liked to make people happy - definitely didn’t like to feel a burden. Perhaps what made him feel ten times worse was that he knew he was inconveniencing the whole production team massively.

And yes, as you’d unhelpfully reminded him, it was ‘his fault’.

The lavish hotel room, big bathroom and pretty efficient AC still didn’t manage to mask the pungent in-the-back-of-your-throat smell from the bathroom. At the doctor’s advice, who had been a little concerned at Toms fever, Harry had cranked the AC on high. It had forced you to steal one of Tom’s big hoodies and a pair of joggers- you hadn’t left his room since he first called you, still wearing your tiny pyjama shorts and an old tee.

“Please turn the air con off.” His little voice whined from where he was lying, huddled up under the covers. Perched on the other side of the double bed, but over the covers with your laptop on his lap, you could actually feel him shivering with the chills. It felt like you were torturing the poor boy.

“T you know I can’t. It’ll make your fever worse.” The way he looked up at you, like a little Labrador that you were refusing to pet, actually pained your heart.

Okay, so yes it was his fault, but you weren’t mad, you just felt so awful for him.

“Please I’ll- I’ll pay you more.” His voice was hoarse; though he denied a sore throat, it sounded like the constant sickness was burning his windpipe.

“Tommm” you pouted, sticking your bottom lip out “I don’t want your money, want you to get better.”

Apparently giving up, brown eyes shot you the filthiest look in disappointment, rolling to face away from you. You thought he was giving you the silent treatment in a huff, but instead, he was praying on the weaker one.

“Harry, I’ll buy you that set of golf clubs-“

“NO!” You had to interrupt before Harry would say yes - because from the way his younger brother shot up from the arm chair, he was about to. Scowling eyes slowly focused back on you in annoyance, making you huff - shutting the laptop and kneeling on the bed to face him. After pressing the back of your palm to his forehead, which was scorching hot, you sighed. “I know you feel shitty and I’m so so sorry but I’m trying to make you better. So shut up, drink this and go to sleep!”

Like a child scorned, you received another death glare however, then he complied, taking a sip of the water you offered before lying back - huddling even tighter.

And it had been relatively peaceful for a few hours; Tom seemed to be getting some sleep - even if he was tossing and turning. Eventually, a prescription that the doctor had requested worked its way through the system, Harry getting a text to say he could go pick it up. The nearest pharmacy was probably a 30 minute drive from the hotel, so he left as soon as.

This left you alone with Tom, where the situation only descended into more chaos.

Almost as soon as Harry had left, Tom had stirred with a grunt. All it took was one look at his face for you to know. Both of you leapt up and flew into the toilet, Tom once again getting very familiar with the Moroccan toilet bowl.

This time though, when he had leant backwards, he’d sort of lost control and flopped most the way - you catching him before he could hit his head on the tiled floor.

“Woah, easy there!” It wasn’t like he’d passed out, but the look in his eye as he slumped into your lap… he wasn’t all there either. “Hey Tom… you with me? Tom?”

Lazily he blinked up at you, not really replying except for groans of half-formed words.

Deciding this had all got a bit direr, you almost sprinted back into the room, grabbing your phone and returning. He was still on the floor, his thumb and first finger pressing into each eye - groaning again.

“Hey Tom? I’m gonna call the doctor you need anything?” He whined in response, stopping only when you stroked his sweaty hair back, most of your attention on dialling the correct number.

The solution he’d given wasn’t pretty: Tom’s fever was too high hence why he was all woozy and groany. Until the doctor could get over with the stronger medications, you needed to lower his temperature in other ways or take him to hospital. He’d absolutely hate hospital, but the other choice? Boy, was he not going to like it either.

Ignoring Tom’s croaked question of what you were doing, you busied yourself switching on the bath taps. You let the water run until it was the right (very mild) temperate, then turned back to Tom, who’d managed to work himself up to sit against the sink unit.

“The doctor says you need it.” His brain was foggy, his mind was slow but your tone told him enough to know something was wrong with the bath. “Just take your clothes off and then I’ll help you-“

“Absolutely fucking not.” Good. He was still with it enough to argue.

“I am just as uncomfortable as you are Tom, but we both know you can’t stand up without fainting, so you are going to need my help.”

“Y/n!”

“Keep your boxers on and it’s just like a fitting! I’ve seen you have those before!”

It was clear as day just how emasculated he felt, especially because he knew you were right. Sitting up at this current moment was a push; there was no way he was getting in the bath without some help. Defeatedly he nodded, but gave you a piercing look to turn around before he started wiggling himself out of the flannel pyjama trousers and light cotton t-shirt. Most confusingly, he still felt freezing cold, yet he had long since learned not to argue with you - especially when your justification came from the advice of a doctor.

Your cue to turn around came in the form of an extra angry-sounding grunt- the look you got when you did wasn’t much better either. It was a weird contrast, though, having someone who physically appeared so indestructible (a superhero for crying out loud); to have been absolutely beaten to a pulp by a few mouth fulls of weird meat. You had seen his bare torso before, although it still wasn’t something easy to get used to - making you clench your teeth together just slightly. A very welcome view.

Perhaps you looked just a little too long at the man who was technically your boss, hunched angrily on the floor in nothing but his calvins - another grunt shaking you out of it. By now, the bath was almost full and you hurried to shut off the water, feeling your cheeks heat up as you cursed silently to yourself.

“Okay come on, gimme your arm.” Begrudgingly Tom followed your request, slinging his arm heavily over your shoulder as you crouched beside him. As strong as he looked, you knew right now he felt powerlessly weak - all that muscle was just going to be almost dead weight.

Now it was your turn to grunt and groan as you pulled Tom up to stand, him focusing on blinking away the headrush he got.

“Come on T work with me here.” Getting him to the side of the bath wasn’t too difficult, the issue came when he stepped with one foot into the bath and yelped, instantly withdrawing as if it was a literal ice bath.

The sudden movement had you both losing balance, ending with Tom sitting on the edge of the bath and you leaning over him, in between his legs, and slapping your hand on the wall opposite purely so you both didn’t end up in the bath.

“Tom!”

“It’s like ice water!”

“Its lukewarm like the doctor said!”

“It is not its from the fucking arctic!”

“Oh for god sake!” Exasperated, you paced up and down the bathroom shaking your head at his ridiculousness. This was ALL. HIS. FAULT.

You came back to him with an ultimatum.

“It’s this or the doctor said I had to drag your ass to hospital.”

“Nooooooo.” The 25 year old seemed to convert into a whiny three year old again.

“Those are the two options. So will you PLEASE quit complaining and get in the bath.”

Keeping up the toddler persona, Tom huffed but reluctantly nodded in agreement - you had come up trumps. It didn’t stop him yelping when you helped to lower him in. His breath was shaky, as a response to the ‘cold’, but he was firming it. At least when you felt his forehead after a couple of minutes, it certainly seemed as though the fever was starting to ease off .

“You can go if you want.” His voice was murmured and as you looked up at him, he did his very best to avoid your gaze.

“Not a chance, if you drown on my watch, Nikki will never forgive me.” At the very least he seemed to appreciate your joke, scoffing a little with a small nod. “If you don’t want me here I get it. As soon as Harry’s back, I’ll swap with him.”

“No! It’s not that its… I’m just an ass when I’m ill.”

“A self aware ass, though.” Again he chuckled a little, as you folded your arms on the edge of the porcelain tub, resting your head lying to one side. “You had me pretty scared there for a moment, you know?”

He nodded a little, creating a wave of ripples in the water which you watched to avoid his gaze - which you knew was tracing all your features inquisitively.

“Hey it’s in the job description, always a bit dramatic... I’m sorry though I should never of called you- don’t know why I didn’t just get Harry.” In response you tutted, taking a moment to lean up and push his sweaty curls back a bit.

Just because you could, it was allowed in this moment.

“’m glad you did.”

“Yeh me too” He sighed, eyes fluttering shut in the easy silence of the bathroom. You kept a vigilant eye on him for the next 20 minutes, checking the temperature of his forehead using the back of your hand, whilst he seemed to finally get a bit of proper restbite, appearing like the worst had passed. You had no idea what was taking Harry so long; in fact it was the doctor that arrived first- who you ran to let in (not wanting to leave Tom asleep in the bath one bit).

Whilst the doctor did all his checks, taking his temperature properly this time, satisfied that it was much more manageable. He still wanted to set him up with some oral rehydration rescue packs to get his hydration status a bit better and give some anti-sickness tablets and antipyretics.

Having actually been getting some rest before all the prodding and poking, Tom was back to being a grumbling dick - now not wanting to leave the bath (the irony was real - making you roll your eyes). Once again, he appeared embarrassed to have you see him like this, so you left the doctor to help him get out and changed- instead going down to reception to get a fresh set of sheets, as he’d done a pretty impressive job of sweating through the old ones.

Even if tired and grumpy, when Tom exited the bathroom, he looked much better - he was walking himself without the doctor’s help. Which honestly was such a relief because when he had passed out on you, you genuinely were terrified. Thankfully the doctor stayed for the next 20 or so minutes, which was just when Harry returned with a bag of medications - which were now wholly redundant, given the doctor had already supplied everything.

“What happened?” Harry asked you in a hushed voice, whilst Tom was distracted with getting his medications. Recounting the story of Tom pretty much passing out, Harry grimaced for you, then launching over to give you a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” That was a novel idea, you hadn’t really thought about yourself at all - but honestly, you were a bit shaken, having been running on adrenalin for most of the night.

“I-uhm… yeh I think so… just-just was a bit scared, I guess? Felt bad too because he didn’t want me there but-“

“I can promise you Y/n, he did want you there. Just probably embarrassed he wasn’t all manly and that…” With a nod, you smiled softly at the frizzy-haired boy.

Whilst working with Tom, it also meant getting pretty close to his younger brother. The two Hollands were almost attached at the hip, which you were very much okay with.

It was weird though... your relationships were completely different. Harry was just your brother, through and through. He wound you up like a sibling but also knew you as if he had your whole life. With Tom… it wasn’t that. Arguably, you were closer to Tom, but on a different level. It was more exciting, more nerve-wracking and heartwarming all at the same time. Honestly, you couldn’t get your head around it properly.

“Hey, you’re probably shattered. Why don’t you go back to your room and get some sleep? I got it in here.” You knew Hary was trying to offer something nice, and now all the excitement had worn off, you were unbelievably shattered. But you didn’t like the idea of not being there, as a just in case.

“Uhm, I think I might just stay, you know?” And he did, with a deliberate, knowing smile, he nodded.

He knew you were worried. He knew Tom had really really scared you. He also knew how much you cared about his brother.

Just like how Harry knew Tom wanted you there, even if he felt embarrassed. Well, anyone would- when you are passing out half-naked in front of the one person that really matters.

It was just at this point that the doctor was done, giving Harry instructions about the rest of the day, when you made a beeline for the bed. Tom was propped up against the headboard, still with a pale sullen look and tired eyes, but a bit less clammy and more human. He cracked a smile as you crawled up onto the other side of the bed, kneeling next to him.

“How’re you doin’?”

“All drugged up, just feel fucking exhausted.” Instinctively you reached up to feel his forehead, really appreciating the fact it felt almost normal.

“Join the club mate, I had a 5am wake up call too.” You almost whispered, intending to make Tom laugh, but instead only getting a pout.

“I am sorry, a-are you going to go back to your room?”

“Nah” Tom’s eyes didn’t light up, except the fact that they very much did. “Can’t trust you not to get into trouble while I’m gone Holland.”

“Thanks.” He laughed weakly before shimmying down on the bed, so he was much more comfortable. “And thankyou, I-I’m sorry I’m a dickhead and made your life-“

“Shut up Tom!” Laughing, you lightly slapped his arm, also leaning down on the bed, so you were lying facing him. “You’re all feverish; go to sleep before you say something stupid.”

There was a long pause, Tom just gazing deep into your eyes, because he was pretty sure what he was thinking was nothing to do with the dodgy unidentified meat he’d had the evening before.

“What... like asking you out?”

…..

“Maybe that wouldn’t be so stupid.”

~~~~im really not sure how I feel about this one, let me know what you thought ;) ~~~~

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter@hollandfanficlove

#tomholland #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n #hurt comfort #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #harry holland

[rogue-durin-16]

LIFE-SAVING SHARPIE

Summary: Despite being a muggle, Y/n's mother was an expert in divination. She tried to teach Y/n, who saw it as a mere muggle game. But, oh, what a powerful weapon a muggle game can become in the hands of the right witch.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst (w/ a good ending)

Tags:

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: injuries, death(ish)

A/N: I'm not saying I'm incapable of writing an angsty ending for a Fred Weasley story, but I'd rather not do that, so here comes a stupid story that occurred to me this morning, enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Y/l/n!" I sighed. "Is it true?"

"Your mom is into divination?" George question made me throw my head back in desperation as both twins made their way through the Great Hall to meet me.

I knew that day would be a bumpy one the moment we entered in the Divination classroom. The fact that a muggleborn aced a new subject since class one was strange.

I knew I would have to give some explanation to my friends after. Ron was particularly shocked by the fact that my muggle mother had taught me —against my will, may I say— lots of Divination-related things. I knew Ron, being Ron, would surely tell every soul that would listen about his discovery, but I had hoped for him to wait until the third period at least.

"Secrets spread like wildfire here." I said.

"Are you secretly a soothsayer?"

"Yes, Fred. You see, I have the Sight." I ironically stated, and, seeing this as a perfect opportunity to get closer to the boy I fancied, I added "Want me to read your palm?"

They shared an amused look, fully aware that I was joking. Even in the Wizarding World, divination wasn't something to believe in.

There were supposed to be people able to see the future, such as professor Trelawney, but no student had seen her predict a thing, so she wasn't the best example.

George was the first one to sit down. "Predict my future, oh, you who were gifted with the Sight." I snorted as he laid his palm before my eyes.

I picked his hand on mines, "Hmm..." Fred hovering over my form from behind wasn't ideal for me to concentrate. "Okay so..." I felt one of his hands toying with the clasp of my necklace, brushing my nape. "Will you stop touching my necklace and sit down?" I demanded.

"Yeah Fred, sit down." George reprimanded his brother. "She's trying to see my future." I heard Fred chuntering before he plopped down on my other side, leaning on a tad too close for my liking. "Alright, fortuneteller, is there a love line?"

Of course he would ask about that. "Let's see..." I traced said line, unable to remember to the T what my mom had tried to teach me. "So, the heart line is arched... Which means..."

"That you can't tell a thing?" I slapped Fred's arm.

"Which means he's balanced." I corrected him. "You're able to realize when you need to take care of yourself, and when you should let a someone in." George seemed invested. "You'll have just one serious partner, but they'll be the right one."

"Well, that doesn't sound half bad, huh?" He looked at me with a content smile.

"My turn." Fred spoke, smacking his brother's hand away and replacing it with his left one. "The line of life or whatever." He scooted a bit closer and I felt my heartbeat pick up. "What's my fate?"

"Are you left-handed, Fred?" I questioned with an eyebrow raised, already knowing the answer. "I need your dominant hand." Oh well, that came out wrong.

"Straightforward, are we?" George snorted at his brother's remark as he exchanged hands, turning to straddle the bench to be more comfortable. "Alright, what do you see?" He had leaned on to the point where he only needed to tilt his head down a couple of inches to rest it on my shoulder.

"A hand." I deadpanned, which earned a playful push from him. "Okay, okay— I see..." A puzzled frown took over my gaze. "Wait—" I turned to George. "gimme your hand."

"What?" Fred questioned, shifting his position ever so slightly.

"Uhm..." The frown grew bigger, and I had to remind myself what I was doing was a joke. "You... don't have a lifeline?" I dubiously informed. "I mean— it sorta... Starts? but then it fades away." I widened my eyes and froze, remembering what that meant.

I saw Fred tilting his head slightly. "Is it so bad that you won't tell me what it means?" He asked jokingly in order to lighten my distraught mood.

"It— well, it means that you'll die at a young age." My eyes met his and, despite the amused smile that always danced on his lips, fear slipped out of his orbs now, too.

"Wait what?" George propped himself on his forearms to see his brother's palm. "Can't be. Check mine?"

"I just did, you git." George wasn't even smiling. Maybe he did believe it. "Yours is fine."

The three of us stayed in silence for an instant. Even if none of us believed in divination, the fact that Fred had no lifeline was rather unsettling.

"It's fine." I cleared my throat, turning to my bag and leaving Fred's hand over the table on the process. "Apart from seeing the future, I can fix lifelines." They looked at each other when they saw me grab a sharpie. "Don't move." I demanded, holding down Fred's right hand before tracing a black line where the lifeline was supposed to be. "There. A long, healthy life."

When I looked back at the twins' faces, I saw them ready to laugh. Distress had already left them, and that helped my own evaporate.

"Merlin, Y/n!" Fred dramatically exclaimed. "You've just saved my life!"

"She sure did." George agreed, patting my back.

"Now go and tell Ron to shut up." I didn't want to imagine what would happen if people started to believe I could actually predict their future; the twins were sceptic and even they had somehow fallen for it.

I was so focused on George getting up that I didn't even notice Fred's hand flipping and wrapping around mine.

A soft kiss was placed on my cheek and I felt my face heating up even before meeting Fred's proud grin. "Figured I'd give my savior something in repay." His eyes seemed to flicker to my lips for a second; it's just my imagination, I thought, unaware of Fred's thumb caressing the back of my hand until he removed it in order to stand up.

Four Years Later

FRED'S P. O. V.

One second I was laughing at Percy's joke, and the next one everything was black; not only visually, everything was pitch black in every fucking sense.

I heard nothing, I couldn't touch anything, my voice was gone.

My mind was completely blank, until a thought slipped in my brain: 'you'll die at a young age'.

My head was spiralling now. I was dead. That's what death felt like? Nothing?

Y/n's words kept going on and on, frying my brain. How ironic it was that the voice I would have forever in my mind belonged to the girl I had been in love with since I was fourteen, and the words were what we thought to be her silly prediction.

I had no idea how long it had been, but suddenly I felt it; a tear running down my cheek. A flaming hot tear, burning its way off my face. Then I felt something else, some sort of rope wrapping tight around my right hand and wrist, so tight that it made my pulse speed up.

My pulse.

It dawned on me that my heart was beating fast against my chest. It was beating.

I needed to breathe.

"FRED!" Someone forced my eyes open; It was Percy. I couldn't see him right away because the lights were blinding to my eyes, but I recognised his voice. "FRED SAY SOMETHING!"

"Y/n..." I couldn't hear my own voice, but I felt her name going through my vocal cords.

"HE'S ALIVE!" Ron cried. "you're alive-" my sight was blurry but I could pick out my younger brother's crown in front of me as he sobbed over my chest.

"We gotta get him out of here right now!!" Of course it was Hermione who got everyone moving. As both my brothers managed to pick me up, I felt my eyes closing once more. Not even the fear of not waking up again stopped me from passing out.

READER'S P. O. V.

I had volunteered as Healer to help Madam Pomfrey during the Battle, that's why it was me who received two Weasleys practically dragging a third one into the improvised infirmary.

I recognised him from his jacket. "Fred..." At first I thought it was his corpse, that's how bad he looked.

"Y/N!!" It was only when Fred seemed to tilt his head up due to Ron's cry that I reacted, rushing to help them. "Keep him alive!" I only nodded, taking Ron's place as he took off.

With one of his arms over my shoulders and the other over his brother's, we managed to carry him to one of the stretchers; his painful weak groans went directly into my ear as we moved him, triggering the tears I was holding to fall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

FRED'S P. O. V.

"—alive, somehow." Y/n's voice, though it sounded far away, let me know she was close. "No, don't wake him up."

"Listen, you gotta get him to St. Mungo." It seemed George the one talking, but his voice was too shaky to tell. "in an hour this is gonna get really ugly, I want him out."

"George, we're besieged." Her tone was hopeless.

"Look at him, You said it— It's a bloody miracle he's still breathing." my brother's voice shattered; all I wanted was to get up, hug him and say I was okay, but I felt my brain spinning once more. "Bill and I will escort you out of the castle so..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time I opened my eyes, terror inundated me; everything was dark again. I gasped for air and propped myself up, instantly regretting it. A stabbing pain attacked every part of my body, triggering a shocked cry out of me.

"What are you doing?!" Y/n whisper-shouted, before placing both her hands over my chest to push me back to the bed again. "Are you mental?" Her fingertips moved out of the way a bandage that covered my eyes. "Oi, listen," when she noticed my shaky hands desperately trying to reach my face, she took them in hers. "You're safe."

I tried to say something —anything—, but my throat was sore, and the only thing that was able to leave it was her name.

"Shhh." She hushed me, letting one of her hands travel to my face. "You have to rest." I would have sworn she was crying, but I couldn't tell. "Everything'll get better." Her thumb stroking my cheek was the most soothing thing I had ever felt, so it wasn't difficult for me to close my eyes, this time willingly, though I was equally scared. "I'll stay by your side." The reassuring squeeze her hand gave me, made me aware that she had noticed my fear.

Before drifting off, I felt Y/n's lips placing a chaste kiss on my forehead, making my heart hammer against my chest.

I was still alive.

A Month Later

READER'S P. O. V.

It was Ron who sent me an owl the moment Fred finally got out of the hospital. He informed me that, instead of going to the Burrow to rest a few days—as planned—, ha had gone straight to the shop.

That's how I found myself the next morning inside Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, which was not-so-surprisingly full of people again.

Due to the huge amount of customers, it was relatively difficult for me to spot the twins.

Apparently, I turned out to be easy to spot.

"Y/n!" I turned in the stairs' direction to be met with a very enthusiastic George who, before I could even greet him, engulfed me in a hug.

"I see you can't catch a break." I observed, pulling away with a big smile on my face. That place really made the trick to bring joy to everyone.

"You can't imagine." He replied, his gaze wandering around before pulling my hand. "Oi, Fred! Look who dropped by!" He shouted over the hubbub, leading me to the till counter, behind which I saw the reason why I had come in the first place.

Just as Fred's eyes noticed me, he attempted to rush out of the till. I left George's side as soon as I realized that he, in fact, couldn't really rush out.

"Merlin's beard!" Despite he had just had to grip the counter in order not to fall, he tried again. "Take it easy, will you?" I scolded him, steadying him by his forearms and helping him step back to rest against the till. "Do you want to go back to the hospital?"

"If you're the one taking care of me, I wouldn't complain." The first time his eyes fell on my lips, I missed it because I was still securing him. The second time it was impossible to miss. "You know? Your sharpie saved my life."

I snorted at his nonsensical words. "You're delirious, Weasley." My hands finally left his forearms, just to be picked up on his. "Still suffering from the concussion?" I joked, trying to deviate my own attention from my fast heartbeat.

Another glance at my lips.

"I should get going." George spoke behind me.

"I was going to visit you tomorrow." Fred stated, his gaze now focused on my eyes.

"Sorry to break it to you, love," I pointed out, motioning at him with our hands still held. "But you can barely walk."

"Yeah, but I needed to see you." He looked somehow sheepish; I doubted I had ever seen him like that before. "I'm gonna be as clear and concise as possible—" He cleared his throat and forced himself to look at me. "I'm pretty much in love with you." I didn't know my eye could go as wide as they went. "Thing's I've known for a good couple of years now." He shrugged. "Telling you scared me, but then this happened." He gestured at himself. "And now not being able to tell you scares me even more." His eyes scanned me before looking around. "This wasn't the ideal place to tell you, but I didn't want to wait any longer."

I gulped, trying to process it as fast as possible.

"For Godric's sake, Y/n," he gently tugged my hand. "Say something, please." Fear started to take over him, even if he tried to keep it at bay. "It's alright if you don't feel the same, we can still be friends, I promise—"

"How do I kiss you without hurting you?" I questioned, already feeling the heat on my cheeks.

I could tell by his face that, out of everything I could have said, he was not expecting the answer I had given him. "Ever the caring one." He let go of my hands to cup my cheeks. "Just kiss me," he sounded so happy, it was contagious. "I'll deal with the pain later."

I listened to him and, holding onto his blazer, stood on my tiptoes and crashed my lips against his— only because I had been wanting to kiss him for too fucking long.

I got lost in the kiss and my brain completely dismissed that an entire wall had collapsed over the boy before me just a month ago; my hands went up to his neck, pulling him closer and, consequently, earning a painful groan from him.

"Shit! sorry." I was quick to let go, suddenly very aware of our surroundings, too.

He just shook his head and pulled my back to him, this time by my hips. "I said I'll deal with it later." He spoke against my lips before going in for a second kiss.

I was more gentle now, careful not to cause him too much pain.

To our dismay, we were interrupted.

"You said love confession!" George snapped us out of it; this time the groan Fred let out was from annoyance. "not snogging session in front of our customers! Get to work!"

He huffed, unwillingly separating from me. "If you stick around until lunch time, we can resume this."

I pretended to think about it. "I guess I can find something to do until then." My smile was as wide as his, and it grew wider when he pulled my into a hug, placing a kiss on the crown of my head. "I love you too, by the way."

His laugh reverberated on his chest. "Good to know."

"Freddie! Now!" This time it was me who groaned at George's demands.

"Help me out, love." Fred requested, pulling away from me so I could help him move behind the till counter. "See you in a couple of hours?" I nodded, pecking his cheeks and walking away from the shop.

It was when I started to walk down the Diagon Alley that it clicked.

His lifeline.

The sharpie.

"OH MY FUCK—"

#fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #fred weasley #fred weasley x hufflepuff!reader #fred x you #fred x slytherin reader #fred x y/n #fred lives au #fred weasly x reader #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley fanfics #fred weasley fluff #harry potter #battle of hogwarts

[nessaxc]

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Stress Reliever || Kuroo Tetsurou

You're working so hard one day that you develop a migraine so Kuroo is determined to help relieve it.

~ Rating: Explicit

~ Words: 2.5k

~ Tags: Fluff, Comfort Sex, Lap Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Shameless Smut, Sexual dialogue, Swearing, Vaginal Sex,

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Funny enough the day didn’t start off terrible. In fact, it started off pretty well. You woke up fairly early enough to drag yourself out of bed to do your morning exercises. Even after exercising and getting ready, you still had time to make yourself some coffee, and you were feeling in a positively good mood, though, that quickly went away.

Your professor was nagging you about the extra exercises and apparently you had a deadline for it, so you were swamped with work, and felt like you were being pulled in multiple directions. As such, you completely skipped lunch and barely had time to snack or eat the rest of the day. That was a major mistake and now you were starting to regret it horribly. The coffee stain on your shirt was a grim reminder of how much of a shit day you were having, so you tugged it off later that day to change into a comfortable nightdress.

Your head felt like it was on fire. You tried to focus on your computer screen, but the light of the device hurt your eyes and you shut them, pressing the heels of your palms into closed eyelids. The lack of food and water, plus your stress was starting to cause a migraine to emerge and you foolishly tried to just wish it away. Obviously it didn't seem to work.

Then Kuroo came around when you were working in the living room, wearing a deep red robe, sipping from a cup before he pulled it away from his lips to ask, "You okay, baby?" he walked over, and when he slammed his cup down on the table it made you wince.

"No," you admitted. You pulled your hands away from your face and nearly sobbed as you saw that your computer was now frozen.

You bit back a collection of swears that you wanted so desperately to scream. Instead, you grimly began to work again after everything closed, clicking on a browser to get back started.

"Earth to Y/N!" he waved his hand in front of your face, chuckling in amusement, and you just moved your head to the direction of the screen. The more you went on, the harder it got to concentrate. Your migraine was full on now, and your head was throbbing so much that it made it near impossible to focus on anything. You closed your eyes for a few moments, before you forced yourself to open them as you returned to the exercises you were working on.

"I think you need to relax," he suggested, "you can barely look at the computer screen," he laughed as he mocked the way your eyes were falling closed, his eyes heavily lidded as he slowly blinked them, a dazed look on his face.

"I can't, I have more work to do," you muttered. You appreciated his attempt at showing concern, but you really were too busy to leave now. You didn't even know what time it was, but you constantly told yourself that you weren't going to stop until everything was finished.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, and you fought the urge to look at him as he massaged the curve of it with his fingers.

"Aw don't be such a workaholic," he told you, and you nearly hissed at him, "I think what you need is a break, doctor's orders!" he exclaimed with a chuckle. "C'mon, you don't have anything that can't wait until tomorrow."

"I'm fine," you lied. You were stubborn and hated leaving things unfinished.

"You're not fine, c'mon, now the boss is telling you that you need to stop working," he urged, and you would have laughed because he was speaking in that cute whiny voice you loved had you not been so invested in your work. "I won't take no for an answer," he said with an amused smirk.

"No it's okay," you started, "I can keep going," you said, your voice lacking any sort of conviction. "I have a deadline."

"Well I said you don't, the professor gonna have to wait, last I checked you're supposed to listen to me, not that old fart," he pulled the laptop away from your grasp, and you wanted to argue but the words died in your throat as your head throbbed painfully.

"Tetsurou, I wasn't finished," you said, your voice expressing weak disapproval.

He scooped you up into his arms suddenly, humming away loudly and acting as if he didn't hear you. He carried you all the way to his room, bridal-style, which you couldn't help but giggle at, and he flopped down on the bed, positioning you on the comfortable seat that was his lap. He ran his hand along your arm, stroking the skin there as he eyed you with a suggestive look on his face.

"Migraine?" he asked. He knew you so well. You had the tendency to get migraines when you pushed yourself too much, and you groaned in response.

"You had a tough day huh?" he continued, a pout playing on his lips before he chuckled. "No biggie, I'm here to fix that," he assured, his voice somewhat soothing for once.

"It sucked," you mumbled, leaning into his touch as he stroked both of your arms with his hands, feeling yourself relax a little more. He pulled you closer against his chest, his breath tickling your neck.

"Sorry you had a shit day," he chuckled, his grin widening when you cracked a small smile, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. "But that's why you always have me to make it extraordinary!" he exclaimed smugly.

"It's fine, I had worse," you admitted, and he continued to laugh at that. You both fell into silence for a few moments. You loved that you could have a horrible day or a shitty migraine, and Kuroo would be there to help make you feel better. You were so comfortable and warm, despite the pounding in your head. But even with that pulsating ache in your head, you found yourself getting lost in the features of his face — those long ebony eyelashes, that single strand of black hair that fell in front of his forehead, the glimmer in his eyes, you drank it all in, and of course he noticed this.

"Like what you see, baby?" he raised both eyebrows inquisitively, his smirk only broadening even more so, entertained by your watchful stare.

"Maybe," you said with a light shrug, acting as if it was nothing.

He slid his hands up to your shoulders, kneading his fingers into them, and the feeling made you shiver slightly. You found yourself craving his touch almost instantly. You were suddenly very aware of his hot skin against yours and his hot breath chasing the skin on your neck.

"You know," he said before leaning in to press kisses upon your neck, "sex actually helps migraines."

As soon as he said the words, you felt him twitch against you. His lips then brushed your shoulder and you could feel his sly smirk.

"Is that so?" you asked, your voice taking a very different tone, that suggested a challenge. His fingers wandered down to the hem of your nightdress in search of the skin underneath.

"Yes, or so I've heard," he teased, making you chuckle in response.

"Make me feel better then," you whispered. You reached for the first button of your nightdress, his eyes widened a little as you worked your way down, and you emitted a soft gasp as you felt him harden against you. You popped the next one open but he quickly became impatient with your pace, he brought his hands back up and tore the dress open, letting the buttons fly about the room in loud pings before tossing it away.

You couldn't help but giggle in response to that because of how eager he was, and he quickly joined your state of laughter. Your hands fumbled to rid of the robe that covered his body, slipping it off in a hurry and allowing it to join your ripped dress on the floor. Your cheeks turned to the color of scarlet upon the sight of his stiff erection pointing up, amazed by how hard he was already.

You shivered when he cupped your breast. His hand was cold, and your nipples were already hard from the chill in the night air, but when he brushed his thumb over the sensitive tip of your breast, you sighed in pleasure. You trailed your cool fingertips down his side to his hip, your breath hitched.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he said under his breath before a chuckle slipped through, then he pressed his lips to yours. When you began to trail your fingers up and down his member, his tongue plunged into your mouth. He cupped your other breast, his thumbs brushing back and forth over your nipples. You inched forward, rubbing the ball of your thumb against the head of his member. When you were almost straddling him, you shifted your weight from your knees to your feet, sliding one arm around his neck to hold your balance as you kept fondling his member, and he nipped at your bottom lip, letting out a low, pleased moan.

"Oh shit," he growled before he added, "you're mine, all mine," he repeated, giving you one last hard kiss, then nuzzling his way down to your neck, and you arched to give him room as he brushed his lips just lightly across the tops of your breasts. You angled your hips, gripping his shoulders as you rubbed the slit of your sex into the hard length of his erection, your clit sliding against the underside of his shaft, and when he suckled against your nipple, you shuddered, making you whimper loudly.

"Mmm, yes," you murmured, closing your eyes as he lashed his tongue back and forth against your nipple, then gently bit the underside of your breast.

"So beautiful, fuck, I love how this perfect body is all mine," he cooed. He moved to the other, stroking your wet nipple as he pressed his other palm into the small of your back, guiding you as you ground against him. He murmured your name against your breast, and closed his teeth around your nipple. Your clit brushed the tip of his member and you moaned, hips trembling a little as you kept rubbing against him in a desperate attempt for some relief.

"Baby, get inside me," you moaned, and he kissed you between your breasts before he straightened. His dark-eyed gaze was intent on yours, watching as you were a complete and utter panting mess against him. He guided you up, angling himself under you, making you lean forward and you caught his earlobe in your mouth hungrily.

"Please, baby, please, oh fuck," you cried, and when he was just barely seated inside you, instantly you tilted forward, the tips of your breasts rubbing against his chest. He pressed the pad of his thumb against your clit, and you trembled as you sank onto his member, working your way down until your hips were flush.

You threw your head back as you thrust into him fervidly, losing yourself in the sensation of him inside you, filling you. When you took his full length and then gently circled your hips, his thumb still working against your clit, you both moaned aloud.

"Mmm. You feel so good," he growled. "Harder, baby," he urged breathlessly.

You adjusted your weight and he tilted back a little, changing the angle just slightly. When you began to bounce up and down on his member, he let out a louder moan, flicking your clit even harder, his other hand coming up to pluck at your breast. You cried out in pleasure when he squeezed your nipple between his forefinger and thumb, then did the same to the other.

"Yeah, babygirl, you're so fucking sexy," he panted hotly upon your moist skin, "so perfect riding my cock like this, oh fuck," he uttered gruffly around a grunt.

"Oh yes, Tetsurou," you sobbed as your inner flesh started to spasm around his member. You rode him harder, faster, seeking the friction your body craved without missing a beat, slamming your hips up and down upon his, frantically bumping into them without a care as your cries bounced off the walls of the room. "Yes, yes yes, baby, it feels so fucking good—"

"Come," he demanded hoarsely as he forcefully pressed down on your clit then slipped the pad of his finger into it with an untamed motion. Your arousal was making you shudder with desperation, and your sobs rose until you were almost screaming as he rocked up under you. Beads of hot sweat formed on his temple, making his hair stick to his warm skin as his body twitched with the sensation of engulfing you completely.

"Fuck, your pussy feels so good, baby," he praised, and your face flushed a deeper red, tipping your head back as your whole body trembled. You lifted your hips up and down as fast as you possibly could because you knew you were about to burst any second. You gripped his shoulders painfully tight for leverage when you finally reached your climax.

"Oh fuck," you mewled, rocking your hips side to side, almost corkscrewing down onto his member, and the wild movements of his finger stilled, groaning as he let himself come. You sank down onto him as he pulsed inside of you, and stayed lock to him, skin to skin, wrapped around each other.

Your head was against his neck as you panted hard upon his skin, eyes fluttering open as he tilted forward, letting both of your bodies fall back upon the soft cushion of his bed once you two shared a moment of simply attempting to get your breathing under control. He reached for the blanket, pulling it up around you two, over your bare shoulders, and then you realized you were shaking as your sweat dried on your skin.

"Mmmm," you murmured against his skin, placing a soft kiss upon his neck in a weak attempt to thank him.

Your migraine was now just a dull throbbing pain, and you felt so relaxed and satisfied that you went limp against his body. He lifted your chin up to make you face him, removing a few strands of hair from your face. He planted a couple of kisses along your shoulder and then your cheek. "So how's my girl feeling now? All better?" he asked with a chuckle, running his other hand down your back, feeling the soft flesh beneath.

"Better, much better," you purred as you stretched your body closer to his touch.

He chuckled, "Glad I could help."

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[calif0rnia-lovers]

Lover of Mine #5 | Angel Reyes

part I | part II | part II | part IV | series taglist

Title: A Heavy Heart to Carry

Thought that I would change, but I'm the same guy Blamed it on my youth, but I know I've had time

a/n: split this original part into 2. the second half of the couple's retreat will be in 5.5

warning: a character experiences a panic attack

rating: 💔

Sum: Angel Reyes doesn't fear much, but he's scared to face you once it's set in that he's broken your cardinal rule. He must decide what's more important: maintaining a lie or sharing a secret that will change the way you look at him forever.

Words: 9.4k

“Take him home, Ezekiel. Now. I’m serious. I am going to fucking kill him if he tries to stay here tonight. And then, I’m going to kill you for letting him.”

These are the words that stopped Angel Reyes in his tracks. Left him standing on the front steps, afraid to move past the threshold of the front door to his own house.

When he pulled into the driveway, exhausted covered in a mixture of dirt, sweat and blood, Angel was met with a sight that somehow managed to wring the knots in his stomach tighter.

The light from the living room cast a golden hue across the dark lawn.

He knew the odds of you being asleep upon his arrival were slim to none. You haven’t waited up for him in years. There’s no need to wait up when you know his whereabouts.

At some point in the evening, the attempts of communication stopped. Angel isn’t sure why, but he knows it isn’t a good sign.

He’d pushed against Ez’s shoulder prompting him to step up to ring the doorbell.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.” Ez had shocked his older brother, stepping into the war zone to calmly produce some sort of explanation. “We had to go down south, and shit got--we lost track of time. By the time we got finished, we--”

“Now that I know that neither of you is lying dead in a ditch somewhere, you can leave.” Despite your words, Ez didn’t move. He glanced over his shoulder towards Angel. “Or stay outside, I don't care, but he's not stepping foot in my house. Tell him I said test me.”

Needless to say, he didn’t.

Angel heeded the warning allowing his brother to drive him home. He didn’t bother calling you.

What’s the point of calling to apologize when you’ve just spent half the night ignoring the calls from the same person?

Hours have passed, and Angel hasn’t slept.

Although he’s now freshly showered, the cut on his hand poorly wrapped, Angel Reyes finds himself in the same predicament. Outside of your house.

Scared shitless.

Only this time around, Ez isn’t willing to risk his life for the sake of being collateral damage.

Both men remain in the driveway, eyes on the sunflower yellow-painted door of 1101 Rock Creek Avenue. Each is resting against the hood of Angel’s car. Waiting, silently willing the other to bravely ring the doorbell.

Angel releases the smoke in his lungs before reaching up to remove his sunglasses.

“You gotta go in at some point,” Ez glances over at his brother.

Angel doesn’t respond. He drops his cigarette bud to the ground, stepping on it with the heel of his shoe.

“Especially since we’ve been out here nearly an hour,” Ez continues, a tiny smile finding his lips as the sight of Angel’s rolling eyes. “Neighbors are probably gonna put in a call--”

“I’m checking the windows,” Angel responds. The humor in his voice falls flat as his eyes search the front of the house. “Gotta make sure she doesn’t shoot me the moment I touch the driveway.”

“Shouldn’t have taught her how to shoot.”

The daggered stare sent his way causes the youngest Reyes to chuckle. Shaking his head, Ez takes a step forward.

“Angel. It doesn’t matter if you go in now or later.” He sighs. “If Y/N's gonna shoot you, she's gonna shoot you-- regardless of the time.”

“Yeah.”

Getting up, Angel crosses the lawn to the front door. Although he now has a key, he reaches forward to ring the doorbell. For a brief second, he considers turning around and heading back to his car.

His stomach tightens as the door swings open. He lets out a sigh of relief when he’s met with the sight of a smiling Isabela.

Her smile slips, her eyes narrowing as she stepped outside. She waits until the door is shut securely behind her to speak.

“What the fuck, Reyes!” She shoves hard against Angel’s shoulder, not blinking as he stumbles a step back. Angel massages his shoulder as she lowers her voice. “I orchestrated the perfect week for you two. All you had to do was show up with a packed bag, and you somehow managed to fuck everything up. Where the hell were you last night?”

Although he’s had all night to come up with an excuse, no coherent words come out when Angel opens his mouth. Isabela’s eyes roll, her attention shifting to a quiet Ezekiel standing just beyond his brother’s shoulder.

“And you. I thought you were the smart one.”

Ez looks away from a flushed Angel to find Isabela’s glare on him. He opens his mouth to respond, but suddenly Angel’s inability to speak has washed over the youngest Reyes.

“You didn’t think it was smart to drag him home in time for his son's recital?”

Angel’s voice has returned. It comes out lower than he’s intended. His eyes briefly shift to the front door.

“She’s--”

“Pissed.” Isabela sighs as she turns to the door. “I’d thank Bishop next time you see him. He talked her down last night.”

Isabela pauses just as Angel steps forward to follow her inside.

“Angel, she lied to Jeyson for you,” she says. “You need to talk to him.”

“I know.”

“Hey, lego master,” Isabela smiles as she steps back inside. “Someone’s here to see you.”

Jeyson is on his stomach, lying in the center of the living room floor. Chin resting in his hands, he is studying the progress he’s made on his lego set.

A grin brightens his face as Angel steps inside. He scrambles to his feet, pulling a chuckle from his father as he nearly crashes into his legs.

“Hey, lil man. You good?”

Allowing him a quick hug, Jeyson takes Angel’s hand in his. He tugs him towards the living room. He motions towards the legos on the floor.

“I finished all the escape pods! Now, you can help me with the left-wing--”

“Hold up,” Angel diverts Jeyson’s attention, lifting him off the ground, forcing him to silence. “I wanna talk to you about something--”

“Last night?” His question silence his father. Jeyson reaches forward, his fingers tracing the patch on Angel’s chest. “Mom talked to me already.”

“Yeah, I know, but I wanted to apologize. To say I’m sorry for not being there to see you play.”

“It’s okay.” The smile he offers tightens Angel’s throat. It is a smile that matches his words perfectly. A smile of forgiveness often comes when a child is willing to look past moments of a letdown if that means they can still spend time with that person.

“It’s not okay,” Angel admits. He watches as Jeyson’s gaze lifts to meet his before dropping to patch. “I broke a promise, and I’m not supposed to do that. I’m sorry.”

Jeyson studies his father’s expression. A smile slowly spreads across his face as an idea sets in.

“I can play it for you now.” He suggests, his attention moving to the piano across the room.

That’s where you find the two when you step into the living room.

Jeyson has finished playing and is giggling as he watches Angel try to match the series of keys he just showed him.

“What’s so funny?” Angel’s brow arches as Jeyson attempts to stifle his laughter. “I think it sounded pretty good.”

Jeyson shakes his head.

“You weren’t paying attention.” Reaching over, he moves Angel’s hand into the correct placement. “Your fingers aren’t in the right place.”

Angel’s gaze falls to his hands. To him, they seem to be in nearly the exact same spot. But he knows better than to argue with your son. He watches Jeyson’s fingers, trying to match the same tune. Only he can’t, the smile on his face growing once he realizes the tempo has changed. Jeyson plays at a cadence that seems hyper speed to his father but is nothing out of the normal for him.

“It’s not nice to show off,” Angel chuckles as he tickles Jeyson’s side.

Angel glances over his shoulder, his smile dampening as he finds you waiting patiently by the door. Jeyson’s smile does the same, his eyes widening once your conversation from last night sets in.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yes,” you nod, watching as he gets up, his head hanging forward as he crosses the room. “Remember we talked about this last night?”

Jeyson waits until he’s standing before you to speak. With his arms wrapped around your middle, face pressing against your shirt, his words come out muffled.

“But, I want to come with you.”

“I know, but you have to stay and keep Isabela company. You guys are going to the carnival tomorrow. You're going to have so much fun.” Your fingers brush through his hair, a smile finding your lips as Jeyson tips his head back to look at you. “Besides, I won’t be gone long.”

“Five days is a long time,” Jeyson pouts. “You’re never gone that long.”

He’s right. The longest you and Jeyson have been apart being two days. For the weekends when he would spend the majority of his time at his father’s house.

“You can call me whenever you want,” you remind him as you squat down in front of him. “And then, I’ll be back before you know it.”

Tommy Flores currently stands at the front of the line. The weight of the metal door causes it to slam shut with a loud bang.

The echo vibrates through his chest, the force doubling him over. The dialed-up pitch brings Tommy’s hands to his ears.

He’s stopped in his tracks. His silent plea, to stop the ringing in his ears, sparks a slew of grunted protests from the inmates behind him.

Officer Rogers stands near Tommy, his shoulder resting against the wall. Each time an inmate is escorted through the secured door, the guard slams it shut with as much force as he can. He watched as Tommy flinched each time, the sound louder with each step he got closer. Now that Tommy stands directly in front of it, the sound is too loud.

Rogers steps forward, his lips turning up into a sneer.

"You alright there, Flores?" The lack of concern in his voice is amplified by the soft chuckle he releases. "You look like shit. Rough night?"

It's a question, Rogers knows the answer to. Better than anyone--well almost anyone.

He was the one who woke Tommy, in the middle of the night, the glare of his flashlight blinding the inmate. He yanked Tommy from bed, hand-delivering him to the showers. He stood guard, watching as Tommy took each blow and kick sent his way. He hand-delivered Tommy back to his cell, denying his trip to the infirmary.

Rogers would never admit it, but he was initially shocked when saw Tommy shuffle into the visitation line. He knew Tommy had a scheduled visit but didn't expect him to have the strength to bother trying to attend it.

"Your girlfriend coming today?" Rogers continues as he watches Tommy's fist clench. "Must be. That's the only reason I could think you'd get up this morning. Maybe I should let your friends give you another round tonight. How's that sound?"

Tommy's body is bumped forward—a silent warning from his cellmate to move. The shove to his shoulder clenches his jaw shut. But Tommy knows better than to hold up the line any longer than he already has.

Each step he takes is slow, sending a jolt of searing, white-hot pain down his spine.

The swelling of his right eye limits his vision, but he’s able to recognize a familiar face in the crowded room.

Each grey table is occupied by anxiously waiting loved ones. Tired from the extensive process of being cleared for visitation day. Hopeful their time won’t get cut short due to the delay of the inmate's arrival.

As he’s shuffled forward, Tommy’s gaze is fixated on his feet. It’s easier to ignore the look of pure rage directed his way.

“Stop staring.” The smile on Tommy’s lips is a good attempt. No matter how much he wills it, it can’t reach his eyes. “I’m fine.”

Leonardo Flores's gaze slowly studies the man before him. He knows his younger brother better than anyone. The blue Stockton uniform covers most of the damage but judging by Tommy’s walk and shallow breathing, he’s nursing a broken rib.

Leo doesn’t speak until Tommy’s gaze lifts. “I’d ask how you’re holding up, but it seems you’re still getting settled.”

His observation prompts his brother to shrug. Tommy winces as he shifts to bring his hands to rest on the table.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Tommy smiles.

“I thought this lawyer you got was supposed to be good—"

“She is.” Tommy’s sigh goes unnoticed. “She's good.”

“If she’s so good, why the fuck are you in gen pop?” His brother’s eyes roll, Leo’s head shaking once he gets no response. “Huh? She doesn’t seem too concerned about doing her job. If she was you wouldn’t have been nearly beaten to a pulp—"

Leo’s rant slowly fades out, blending into the surrounding conversations. It takes all of his concentration for Tommy to drown out the sound. Tommy’s eyes are shut, his left hand massaging his brow. The throbbing in his head seems to be getting worse. He flinches as Leo’s boot scrapes his shin.

“I don’t know what the fuck you want me to say, Leo.” Tommy laughs dryly, the throbbing in his head pumping irritation into his voice. “She could pay off the entire fucking city of Santo Padre, it’s not gonna mean shit.”

His eyes open to see Leo’s jaw clenched. He presses on as Leo opens his mouth to speak.

“They put me here because they’re hoping I don’t make it to trial.”

“Judging by how you look, you won’t.”

Tommy shakes his head, dismissing the observation.

“I’m fine. I need you to do something for me.”

An uneasy wave washes over him at the sight of Leo’s rolling eyes.

“What?” Leo chuckles, his arms crossing over his chest. “Your brothers can’t help you?”

“I don’t trust the club with this,” Tommy admits.

No matter the amount of truth behind his statement, Leo’s expression doesn’t change.

Probably because Leo knows the truth. With the number of years he’s facing, Tommy will soon be forgotten by his fellow Horsemen. You’re only worth remembering if you’re valuable to the M.C. Tommy’s not valuable rotting in Stockton. It doesn’t matter if the charges he’s acquired were at the expense of the club.

“Leo—"

Leo’s sigh drowns out the plea in Tommy’s voice.

“What is it this time, Tommy?”

Tommy doesn’t miss a beat. His voice drops, his eyes briefly passing to the guard nearby.

Angel forgot what it’s like to be on the receiving end of your silent treatment. It’s brutal. Probably because you stick to it, religiously. The silence isn’t the worst part. He knows you’ll have to talk to him—eventually. He also knows that once you do, the words you’ve prepared will cut him to the bone.

When it comes to arguments, Angel operates on pure emotion—always ready to fight a war. He says the first thing that comes to mind, often trying to hurt whoever he’s arguing with before they can hurt him. He wishes you were the same.

You have an incredible ability to walk away from an argument on a whim. He can count on his left hand the number of times you’ve raised your voice at him. In all the time he’s known you.

You don’t see the purpose in having a screaming match. It never gets you anywhere. One of you has to operate on the side of logic. Angel has learned that once you’ve had the chance to get your thoughts together he’s in for a world of trouble.

He’d foolishly tried to get the conversation going the moment you both got in the car, but you beat him to the punch.

“I’m not talking to you right now.”

The declaration had come out just as Angel opened his mouth to speak. It also made him close his mouth, his brow furrowing.

“We’re about to drive for four and a half hours, Y/N,” he sighed, his eyes rolling as he sticks the key in the ignition. “You’re really not gonna say anything to me the entire ride there?”

He waits for you to respond, his eyes dropping to the bouncing of your knee.

“And then what? You’re not going to go speak to me at the hotel? What sense does that ma--”

“Trust me, Angel. You do not want me to say what’s on my mind right now.”

Angel’s not certain if it’s the admission itself, or the look in your eyes, but he silently redirects his attention to starting the car.

The four-and-a-half-hour car ride ironically turns into a six-hour trip of stop-and-go traffic. Six hours of Angel left to fiddle through the various radio stations while you silently scroll through your iPad.

At the three-hour mark, your voice breaks the silence, peaking Angel’s hopes. At this point, he’s willing to take you yelling at him if that means you’ll eventually talk again.

He glances away from the bumper-to-bumper traffic to find you holding up your iPad. The screen facing him, you ask. “Have you seen this before?”

He leans over the console for a better look at the image on the screen. His stomach drops as he takes in the jet-black stallion, his mouth going dry as his gaze passes over the red eyes.

“Thinking about getting some new ink?” He jokes his throat clearing as your eyes roll.

“Nevermind.”

Redirecting your attention back to your iPad, you don’t catch the nervous glance Angel sends your way. A few minutes of silence pass before he glances back in your direction.

“What’s it for? The uh--tattoo.”

“Work.”

That’s all he’s able to get out of you. Even after you arrived at the hotel, where you discover that Isabela has booked the two of you for the hotel’s honeymoon suite. Which comes with a complimentary package that Angel is almost certain you won’t partake in. He gets nothing out of you when you are both informed that your introductory session with the couple therapist on sight is in less than an hour after your late arrival.

The counselor, Dr. Mallory, currently sits across from the two of you. The smile on her face remains in place, even as she watches you put as much distance as possible between you and Angel. The task is nearly impossible with the small sofa she’s sat you both on.

Angel's eyes roll to the ceiling before he lets out a deep breath.

Dr. Mallory’s question breaks the silence.

“How long have you two been married?”

Angel’s eyes shift to you. He answers as your gaze remains focused on the pillow in your lap. “We’re not.”

“Divorced?”

“Seven years.” A dry laugh escapes his lips as he softly shakes his head. “To do the date...actually.”

“Oh, I see.” Dr. Mallory’s smile widens as her gaze passes between the two of you. “You’ve decided to join our retreat, as a means of reconnecting. Hoping to bring back, and foster, that love that brought your two beautiful souls together all those years ago.”

“Uh...yeah.” Angel nods slowly as Dr. Mallory’s hand shifts to rest over her heart.

Her eyes close, her smile softening as she lets out a sigh.

“Love is such a beautiful thing,” her eyes open as she continues. “And I am so happy to see the two of you are willing to give it another try. But, more so, I am honored that you have elected me to help guide you through this journey.”

“What exactly does this ‘journey’ entail? We’re not about to go sit in the desert and sing kumbaya or some sh--”

The elbow that digs into Angel’s side swallows the rest of his sentence. He glances over at you.

“It’s a serious question,” he coughs. “I didn’t realize we signed up for some journey that has to do with...souls traveling together…”

Dr. Mallory’s eyes had brightened at Angel’s question. Angel’s words trail off as he realizes Dr. Mallory is no longer seated. She is not standing directly in front of both of you. Holding two orange sheets of paper.

“I have accumulated a list of activities that will allow the two of you to get in touch with your inner selves this week.” She beams, not noticing the uneasy look that washes over Angel’s face as she continues. “One cannot love their partner wholeheartedly until they truly love themselves.”

Angel’s eyes quickly scan the list, realizing that it's more than a list of suggestions. It's a checklist.

“This week, the two of you will work on opening the airs of communication,” Dr. Mallory continues, motioning between the two of you. “Which I can sense are bogged down at the moment, by anger and mistrust. We want to take the time to open them back up--”

“No offense, Doc, but this isn’t going to work.”

“Mr. Reyes, I ask that you don’t speak that way this week. Everything that you put into your relationship can work.”

“It’ll be hard to work on our…” It takes all Angel has not to roll his eyes. “...airs of communication when she’s not even speaking to me.”

Dr. Mallory returns to her seat, her attention focusing on you.

“Angel is right. Ms. Reyes, care to share what’s on your mind with him? He seems eager to listen.”

Angel watches silently as you keep your gaze on the sheet of paper before you.

“Last night was the first night that I have wanted to kill you. And I mean it in the most literal sense, Angel.”

Angel’s throat tightens, his gaze dropping to his hands.

“You’ve done a lot of shit, Angel. But last night you didn’t see your son’s face when he realized that you were not showing up. You promised that you would never do that again.”

Angel attempts to swallow the lump in his throat. He shifts in his seat, his gaze briefly looking towards you.

“I know.”

“I had to get a call from the school telling me that you decided not to pick our son up. You could have picked up the phone, and called me.” The calmness in your voice does nothing to ease the knots in Angel’s stomach. “Since you’ve forgotten, Angel. You don’t get the courtesy of falling off the face of the earth. Club business, or not. You have a son.”

Angel doesn’t offer up a response. Primarily because he knows what’s coming next.

“What could possibly have happened that you disappeared off the face of the earth last night--and don’t say club business. Bishop is not that great of a liar.”

Angel swallows, his eyes briefly drifting across the room to where Dr. Mallory sits.

He can feel your expectant gaze on him, but he can’t bring himself to look at you.

He can also feel it rising in his throat. Words he hadn’t planned on telling you. His eyes drift shut as he sighs.

“I uh...I followed Samuel to this bar downtown.” A silence falls over the room. Angel looks up from his hands, watching as your eyes widen. “Aiden, he told me what he did to you--and I just wanted to talk to him.”

“And that’s all you did?” The look of skepticism sent his way causes Angel’s jaw to tighten.

“Yeah. I told him to leave you alone.”

Dr. Mallory interrupts the silence, her curiosity getting the better of her. “Samuel? Who is he?”

“Nobody.”

Angel’s eyes roll. “He’s her boss.”

“I went on a few dates with him,” you sigh. Your fingers massage your temple.

You already know where this conversation is going.

A smile finds Dr. Mallory’s face as she watches Angel shake his head.

“No, this is great.” An encouraging smile finds her face. “You see, you two are already past the most difficult part. Starting the conversation. Angel, tell Y/N how you feel about this situation involving Samuel.”

“You shouldn't have dated other people.”

Your brow furrows as his statement sinks in. “Did you miss the part where we got divorced?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying? Do you know how many women I had to hear that you slept with? Half of the time from you!” The sight of Angel’s rolling eyes is enough to make you shift in your seat. Turning to face him, you watch his jaw clench. “So you can fuck anyone you want, but it’s a problem when I go out on a date with someone?”

“Yeah.”

You blink, a humorless laugh escaping your lips. Clearly, you’ve heard him wrong.

“Do you know how hard it is watching you fall in love with someone else?”

“Oh my goodness!” Your voice comes out muffled against the palms of your hands. “What is it with you and Samuel putting more stock in this situation than it deserves? I wasn’t falling in love with him, Angel--”

“But that’s what you were looking for?” He cuts you off, the raising of his voice causing your hands to drop. “Why else do people date? Yeah, I slept around, but you never had to worry about me trying to replace you with someone else. For years, I’ve had to watch you go through relationships, bringing other men around my son like you were auditioning them for the role of his father--”

“You know I wouldn’t do that--”

“Yeah, well, we all do things we don’t think we’re capable of.”

“Well, Dr. Mallory. Congratulations. You have just witnessed the one thing Angel Reyes is always capable of doing.” You shove the pillow in your lap towards Angel. “Trying to make me feel guilty for something that he’s done. This time, I’m not apologizing to you for anything. And I’m not saying 'thank you' if that’s what this whole woe is me act is about. I didn’t ask you to go see Samuel. Just like I didn’t ask you to sit here and lie to my face.”

“I’m not lying to you--”

“You may have gone to see Samuel, but that’s not where you were last night. I know you, Angel. You didn’t skip out on our son for Samuel.” It’s an observation that gets the response you’re looking for. It’s a look that lasts for only a brief second. A look in Angel's eyes that tells you that you’re right. It disappears as quickly as it had come. “And until you’re willing to stop lying to me, I’m not staying here.”

Angel’s jaw sets. “Since we’re talking about capabilities, her specialty is walking out. She walked out on me seven years ago, and she’s doing it now.”

“Maybe this time, you'll actually stop and ask yourself why,” you mumble as you step over his feet.

Ez is sitting on the living room sofa. He’s not in the most comfortable position but hasn’t been able to move for the last hour. He’s drinking a beer, his eyes on the television playing quietly across the room.

He’s not even sure what show he’s watching. A series Isabela had roped him into. The room is pitch dark--apart from the glow of the screen--the house quiet. Jeyson has been asleep since his 9 pm bedtime.

Despite her need to catch up on her favorite tv show, Isabela is also asleep. With her head resting against Ez’s shoulder, her body curled up against his, Isabela has been asleep for the last hour. If asked, she’ll blame it on Ez. The second he allowed her to share the blanket with him, his body heat acted as a furnace. One that pulled her right to sleep.

Ez is currently debating on the best way to transfer her from the living to the bed when his phone lights up.

He knows who is calling before he checks the caller I.D.

Angel has been texting Ez non-stop.

Angel’s voice comes out low through the receiver. “If I don’t call you back tomorrow it’s because she’s stabbed me in my sleep.”

“You better take the couch tonight then.” Ez brow furrows, wincing as he double-checks the time on his brightly lit screen. “Why are you whispering?”

“I’m in the bathroom.” Angel quickly dismisses his brother’s question. “Listen, it wouldn’t make a difference. Trust me. She hasn’t been talking to me--except for when she ripped me a new one in therapy today--”

“Therapy...hope you tipped the doc.” Ez chuckles. “Having a witness might have saved your life.”

“...she knows about Samuel.”

Ez releases a sigh, his hand running down his face. “I told you it was a bad idea.”

“I had to tell her,” Angel mumbles. “It's not like I could tell her about last night. I figured…”

“Give her something else to be mad about?” Ez shakes his head, sparing his brother the laugh. “Angel--”

“I’m working on it.” Angel’s side goes quiet for a moment. His admission is an admission of truth. He has been thinking about it for the last twenty-four hours. “I'm gonna tell her, I just need the right moment...besides, don’t rush me. She’s gonna be mad at you too when she finds out you helped.”

“Yeah, I don’t know how I always end up in your shit.”

“That’s what brothers are for,” Angel chuckles. “Remember what I said. If I don’t answer tomorrow--”

“Bye, Angel.”

Hanging up, Ez pushes his phone aside.

He carefully lifts the blanket covering him and Isabela. He successfully carries her down the hallway to the bedroom and has finished tucking her in when she stirs.

She watches as he removes one of the extra pillows from the bed before taking a step towards the door.

“I know it might be extremely difficult for you to stay on your side of the bed,” she yawns, rubbing at her eyes. “But I’m willing to share it with you, as long as you let me take the left.”

A smile spreads across Ez’s face as he watches her pat space next to her. He lifts the pillow in his hand. “Bed’s all yours tonight. I’m gonna take the couch.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he chuckles. “I’ve slept in worse places.”

“Okay,” Isabela’s eyes are already drifting shut as she yawns. “Well, just know the offer still stands if you change your mind.”

“Besides, I gotta at least take you out on a date before we start fighting over sides of the bed.”

“Give me the time and place, and I'll be there,” she giggles, her face nuzzling against her pillow. “Just know I’m a tough negotiator.”

Since when has knocking become so difficult?

It is the question you ask yourself as you stand outside the bathroom door. You quickly knock before you can change your mind.

“Yeah?”

“Um--are you decent?”

Your eyes grip shut as you let your own words sink in.

Are you decent?

The bathroom door opens to reveal a freshly showered Angel. He stands on one side of the double sink. His phone is in one hand, a towel in the other. He wears just a pair of briefs, his hair still dripping from the shower.

“What are you doing? You’ve been in here forever.”

“I've been done for a minute,” he responds, his eyes glued to his iPhone. “Didn’t know you were waiting on me.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t go to sleep until I brush my teeth.”

“You could’ve just come in.”

“You were taking a shower.” Your response is automatic.

It is also the same thing that has kept you waiting patiently on the bed for the past thirty minutes.

“You’ve seen me naked before, querida.”

He glances away from his phone to find you still hovering in the doorway. Toothbrush in hand. Your weight shifts as his eyes linger on the black satin sleepshirt you wear. His gaze returns to his phone once he realizes he’s still staring.

“You can enter since apparently, you need the invitation,” he responds, a smile finding his lips. He doesn’t need to see your face to know your eyes are rolling.

Angel may be silent as you start your nighttime skin routine, but he’s panicking inside. Panicking might not be the right word. Paranoia has begun to set in.

From the moment he and Ez made it stateside Friday night, the realization of his actions began to set in. The realization that he has somehow managed to tie himself to Tommy Flores for the second time. The note he'd shoved into his pocket was now in the trash back in Santo Padre. The message, however, was seared in his mind.

Always get insurance.

You were right to ask what Angel has been doing for the last thirty minutes. He’s been searching for information on Tommy. From the moment he started the search, Angel realized this was a terrible mistake.

Now that you’re standing next to him, the cut on his hand seems to throb. He glances down at the bandage. It’s bled through and needs to be removed.

You’re brushing your teeth when you glance up to the mirror before you. You pause, watching Angel's reflection as he studies his right hand. Strangely, it’s the first time you’ve noticed the bandage.

You wait until you’ve rinsed your mouth to face him.

“What happened to your hand?”

Instinctively, Angel moves his hand out of sight. He drops it to his side.

“Nothing,” he responds, suddenly focused on toweling his damp hair.

“It was bleeding?” You reach around him, ignoring his silent protest.

Angel knows there’s no point in fighting you on it. He turns to face you, allowing you to get a better look at his hand. Unwrapping it, you feel him flinch as the cool air hits the open cut. He drops the towel to the floor, resting back against the sink as your brow furrows.

“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

Before he can respond, you’re already out of sight.

Angel stays where he is, waiting patiently for over five minutes. His brow rises when you return, a black bag in your hand. It is one he’s known you to carry for as long as he can remember. He always teases you for carrying the first aid kit, but always seems to need you to use it on him.

A tiny smile finds his lips as he watches you sit the bag on the sink. “You packed this in your suitcase.”

“No,” your eyes roll as you reach forward to cut on the water. “I keep it in the trunk. Let me see your hand.”

Offering it, Angel watches your expressions as you take the time to study the cut. Whatever questions are on your mind, you don’t share them with him. You don’t say anything else. You silently clean and wrap the cut.

“Thanks.”

The kiss he presses against your cheek halts the washing of your hands. He doesn’t linger to leave a second. He picks up his phone before leaving you alone.

When Angel wakes, he finds you quietly moving around the suite. Cell Phone in hand, one shoe in the other.

“You’re leaving me?”

His question causes you to jump.

“Yeah,” You release a sigh as you turn to find him watching you from his makeshift bed. “I was hoping you’d sleep through my getaway.”

Sitting up, Angel glances over as you take a seat alongside him. He silently watches as you slip on your shoe, his eyes passing over your leggings and sports bra.

“Where are you going?”

“Yoga. Figured you wouldn’t want to come. It’s not really your thing.”

“Yeah, but it’s a couples class…”

He doesn’t add anything to his previous statement. Instead, he stands.

“So, you’re coming?” You ask, watching as he pauses to stretch.

“Yeah, it’s just yoga.” He yawns. "Besides, Dr. Mallory said we gotta do things to nurture our souls."

You’re not sure if Angel tagged along to make a point or because he honestly thought it would be easy.

At the moment, you’re concentrating on keeping your breathing controlled and steady. Your eyes are closed, the only blinders you have for the man on the mat alongside yours.

Although you can no longer see him, you know Angel is in the same state as before.

Struggling.

The hushed “shit” he releases, as he wobbles, brings a tiny smile to your lips.

Angel’s eyes shift from the instructor, who is slowly making her way around the room, towards you. He readjusts his posture, trying his best to mirror your stance. But it seems no matter what he does, it doesn’t look like yours.

He wipes at the sweat on his brow. “I thought we were starting with the easy stuff.”

“This is a beginner’s pose,” you note. Your eyes open, a giggle escaping your lips once you take in the look of skepticism on his face.

“You sure?” Angel watches as you effortlessly move into the next pose. He releases a huff, his neck rolling before he tries to follow your lead. “Seems like you signed us up for the advanced class. Just so you could torture me.”

“I didn’t even know you were coming.”

Angel knows your statement is one of pure truth, but that doesn’t stop him from chuckling, “feels like a setup.”

“You know you can always do the modifications,” you nod towards the front of the room. “It’s easier.”

Angel follows your gaze to where an elderly couple is demonstrating the modified version of the pose.

“Easier?” Angel scoffs. “I don’t need easier, I’m doing pretty good--”

He speaks too soon. His weight tips forward, the sight causing your concentration to break. Before he can fall, you catch his left hand pulling him upright.

Angel blinks. His widened eyes move to meet your gaze. A sheepish grin finds his lips as your grip remains tight around his hand.

You eye his less than steady stance. “Are you okay?”

Angel nods. The grin on his face begins to morph. The sight of his smirk causes you to drop his hand.

“Shit, for a second, I thought you were mad enough to let me faceplant.”

“Shut up,” your eyes roll as you redirect your attention back to the instructor. “I just have good reflexes.”

Halfway through the class, Angel gives up trying to follow along. He spends the remainder of class distracting you. When he’s successful in making you smile, he complies with your request “Angel, please focus. You’re going to get us kicked out.”

He settles back into participating. He sticks solely to the modifications. When the class ends, he manages a few steps before collapsing on your mat.

He rests his head on your lap, preventing you from standing. His eyes drift shut as he lets out a deep breath.

“Angel, get up.”

“I can’t,” he sighs. His right-hand rests over his heart, the dramatic change in his breathing causing you to shake your head. “I can’t feel my legs.”

Your eyes roll as he remains where he is. Head resting against your lap, eyes closed, a tiny smile on his lips. It grows into a familiar grin as the warmth of your fingers brushes against his skin.

Your touch lightly brushes through his hair. You watch his eyes open to meet yours.

“I thought yoga was supposed to be relaxing,” he chuckles.

“I’m relaxed,” you smile, your touch drifting to his jaw. “You’re not relaxed.”

“Now I am. It’s what you owe me, after that hour of torture.”

“You get an A for trying.”

He smiles falters as he watches you let out a deep breath. The smile on your face is gone, the sight letting him know his plan hasn't worked.

"Can you get up now?" You ask as your eyes follow the couples filing out.

A red 1964 Chevy Impala turns onto Rock Creek Avenue for the second time this Sunday morning. Windows rolled down, music playing low, it comes to a stop alongside the light blue fire hydrant marking the end of the street. Although its idling engine has been cut, the gear shift in park, its driver remains inside.

Dressed in a worn leather jacket, too hot for the already humid morning air, Leo releases the smoke in his lungs. He had committed the address to memory when Tommy had whispered it to him the morning before.

He stops to double-check the home’s number as he returns his cigarette to his lips.

1101 Rock Creek Avenue.

The house itself is nothing special. Apart from the sunflower yellow-painted door, it is nearly identical to the other single-story homes which line the street. A street that is strangely quiet for the hour.

The impala’s dash clock reads 11:35.

Leo leans across the console tugging the latch from the glovebox. Shifting the Ruger, which lays inside, he retrieves the folded newspaper. He pauses long enough to close the glovebox before settling back against his seat.

He stays that way, finishing off his slowly dwindling cigarette, scribbling on the paper in his hand.

The Saturday edition of the Daily Imperial Gazette has a newly noted license plate number written in its top-left corner. The crossword puzzle for the day, ninety percent complete.

Focused on the black and white squares before him, Leo lets out a breath.

An eleven-letter word for satisfaction?

“...vindication…” he mumbles, scribbling the answer into the boxes. His gaze shifts to the watch on his wrist.

12:01.

A shift in his peripheral causes Leo to direct his attention elsewhere.

The sunflower yellow door opens, a woman stepping out. She has a black BB-8 backpack slung over her left shoulder, the eye of the orange and white droid catching a glint of sunlight. Her long dark curls are pulled into a high ponytail. She wears a purple tie-dye sundress and white platform sneakers. She turns back to the door, smiling at the man who steps out after her.

Although Leo has never met Angel, he knows this is not him. The prospect patch stitched across the back of Ez’s kutte, the indicator he needs.

“I can’t wait to see you have some actual fun,” Isabela giggles as Ez stops before her.

Ez’s brow furrows, the corner of his lips turning up slightly, as he meets her playful gaze.

“You make it sound like I’m boring.”

“Uh-uh, don’t put that on me. I did not say boring, you did.” Isabela’s nose scrunches in concentration. Her smile widens as she settles on a more fitting word to describe the man before her. “You’re always so...serious.”

“Serious…” Ez echoes. He watches as Isabela bites her lip, suddenly wondering if her word choice was taken on the offense. As she opens her mouth to add an explanation, Ez shrugs. “I’ve been called worse.”

“I’m just saying, I think I’ve seen you crack a smile maybe once since you’ve been here,” Isabela adds. “You don’t laugh at any of my jokes--”

“Maybe they’re not funny.” Ez glances up from the sunglasses in his hands. He watches Isabela’s hand find her chest, her mouth falling open in disbelief. “Besides, I didn't realize you were trying to impress me.”

For once, in their time together, Ez is able to render Isabela speechless. The smile that brightens his features, causes Isabela’s eyes to roll as she steps around him.

“Wait, can we go back a second? Did Ezekiel Reyes actually crack a joke?”

“I do it from time to time.”

“Well, you should do it more often because you have a cute smile, Zeke,” she teases. “Can’t blame a girl from wanting to see it more often.”

Ez fails at stopping the smile on his lips from morphing into a grin as he slips his sunglasses over his eyes.

Isabela takes a step back inside. “Jeyson Iván Reyes! Let’s go!”

With Isabela no longer before him, Ez’s gaze passes over the street coming to a stop on the red Chevy Impala. Aside from being illegally parked, the car would catch the attention of any passerby. It’s not every day that one sees a vintage car, in pristine condition, riding through the streets of Santo Padre.

He steps forward, giving the car a closer look. But he looks away once he gets the look at the driver’s seat. A man focused solely on flipping through a copy of the Daily Imperial Gazette.

Leo lowers the newspaper slightly. His focus moves past an unsuspecting Ez to the little boy who bolts out the front door.

In his Lakers jersey, Jeyson Reyes is nearly a blur of purple and gold. His laughter drifts down the street as his uncle catches and lifts him into the air.

“Someone’s excited,” Isabela giggles as Ez lowers Jeyson back to his feet.

“I wanna try the bumper cars!” The grin on Jeyson’s face is wide. His entire body radiates with anticipation as he impatiently watches his uncle lock the door. “And the ride that spins you around really really fast so that you’re dizzy—and the mini golf!”

“Yeah?” Isabela’s fingers brush through Jeyson’s curls. Her playful eyes drift to Ez, the smile on her face grows as Jeyson follows her gaze. “I think you and I can beat Ez over here. What do you say, J?”

Ez’s brow arches, his eyes briefly meeting hers before moving to Jeyson’s.

“We can beat him. Easy.” The confidence in Jeyson’s voice is almost enough to break his uncle’s facade.

Ez’s eyes study both pairs of brown eyes focused on him, his head shaking softly.

“I don’t know,” he winces as he steps towards the car. “What are you willing to bet on it, J?”

For a moment, Jeyson is silent. An endless amount of possibilities rush through the eight-year-old’s mind. His round eyes widen as he settles on an answer.

“Funnel cake.”

“Good choice.” Ez squats down before Jeyson. He offers him his hand, pulling it back slightly once Jeyson reaches for it. His gaze lifts to Isabela, his resolve finally cracking, a smile slipping through. “You two can’t back out when I win.”

Folding the newspaper, Leo tosses it into the passenger seat as he watches the truck back out of the driveway. As the truck rolls to a halt, before the stop sign at the end of the street, the engine of the 1964 Chevy Impala rumbles to life.

“When can we go on the Ferris Wheel?” Jeyson groans, the impatient whine in his voice causes his uncle to smile.

“In a minute.” Ez ruffles Jeyson’s hair before reaching into his kutte for his vibrating phone. “We gotta wait for Isabela.”

“Where is she?” Jeyson pouts. Standing on his toes, he releases a huff once he doesn’t see her. “She’s been gone forever!”

In reality, it’s only been five minutes. But five minutes can seem like a lifetime to a kid waiting anxiously to continue his exploration of the carnival.

Two hours in, and Ez has learned that Jeyson doesn’t tire easily.

“I thought you wanted ice cream?” Ez chuckles, glancing over to watch Jeyson shake his head.

“Not anymore,” Jeyson sighs. “I want to go on the Ferris Wheel.”

“We will the second Isabela gets back. Okay?”

Despite the pout on his lips, Jeyson nods as he meets his uncle's gaze.

The text that holds Ez attention is from you. It is a question that has been on your mind for the past few days.

Zeke, need that brain of yours. PLEASE tell me you know of a club with a stallion patch?

Ez’s brow furrows as he reads over the message. He types the first thought that pops into his mind. Followed quickly by the second.

Horsemen.

Don’t know much about them. Prospect...limited information. Gotta ask Angel about that stuff. He was at the table Friday.

He glances up from his phone at the burst of laughter coming from a passing group of teenage girls. Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he takes it forward once he realizes that the insistent voice of Jeyson is no longer there.

“Jeyson?” Ez’s brow furrows as his gaze passes over those closest to him.

He has no sight of Jeyson, his stomach dropping as he takes another step forward.

The second time he calls Jeyson’s name his voice is louder, a slight tremble slipping in.

Despite it being a Sunday afternoon, the carnival is packed. The Ferris Wheel is on the last round of its current cycle. This has ushered in a shift in the crowd. People are rushing to make it to the line, excited for a seat on the upcoming cycle.

“Jeyson?”

The cheers and music drown out Ez’s voice. Between the bodies pressing against him and the breath that seems harder to pass than the previous, Ez can't quite remember the way he’s just turned from.

The tightness in his chest causes him to stumble forward. The thought of finding Jeyson slips away with each painful squeeze of his heart. It becomes painfully loud, drowning out the same cheers and music that had blanketed his voice mere seconds before. He can’t focus. His mind is useless, unable to bridge the disconnect to the rest of his body.

No matter how hard he tries to get air, Ez chokes on each breath he takes. No amount of air that he swallows can be caught by his lungs. He is left breathless, his feet blindly searching for a break in the crowd. His vision is blurred, the images blurring as his focus scrambles.

Through the crowd, he catches sight of a disfigured BB-8 backpack.

“Thank you! Have a great day.” Isabela’s smile widens as she accepts the two ice cream cones from the vendor. She drops the change into the tip jar, carefully sidestepping the couple running past her.

She stops to take a lick of her ice cream, her eyes scanning the crowd. She starts to move forward, in the direction of the designated meet-up point. A tall green pole, that houses a baby blue flag at its top.

Through the break in the crowd, she catches sight of Ez’s kutte. Her steps slow once she realizes he’s bent over, the cones she holds slipping through her fingers.

Ez can’t hear his name on her lips, but he can feel the heat of her shaking hands as they cup his face. Her body shifts with his, as Ez’s back presses against the pole. His lightheadedness dragging his body to the ground.

Despite the trembling of her hands, Isabela’s voice is calm as she lowers herself to her knees before him.

“Ez--hey, look at me. I need you to breathe. Okay?” The softness of her voice lifts Ez’s gaze from his trembling hands. A smile finds her lips, the sight forcing him to take a breath. “Good. Here.”

Taking his left hand in his, Isabela gives it a gentle squeeze before moving to place it over her heart.

“It’s okay, you and I can do it together.” Isabela takes a deep steady breath, Ez’s hand rising and falling with the motion.

It takes a second breath for him to follow suit. The harsh intake of breath comes in slightly smoother than before. His right-hand finds her waist, his eyes drifting shut as he tries to push out another breath.

The grip on her hip is painfully tight, but Isabela remains in place. Resting her forehead against his, she continues to breathe, her fingers gently brush against his cheek. With each passing second, her heart slowly anchors his forcing it to match the steady rhythm beating against his palm.

“Shit--” Ez’s voice comes out hoarse, shaky as he opens his eyes. “I’m sorry--”

His body tips back. Isabela’s weight pressed against him as her arms wrap around his neck. The hug she gives is tight, causing Ez to blink.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I uh--I’m sorry--I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Ez.” Isabela shakes her head, pulling back to get a look at Ez’s face.

The look of concern on her face drops Ez’s gaze to his hands. The slight tremble that remains causes him to clench his fist together.

He attempts to swallow the lump in his throat, but it remains. His voice comes out thick, as he shakes his head slightly.

“I haven’t had one of those in years,” he speaks quietly. “The first year in Stockton…”

Isabela nods, not needing him to finish the thought. Instead, she wraps her arms back around him. This time, Ez returns the hug, his face resting against the warmth of her neck briefly.

It’s not until she has him steady and on his feet that Isabela lets out a deep breath.

She looks around when a realization sets in.

“Where’s Jeyson?” The look on Ez’s face causes her to take a step sideways.

As she turns around, she stumbles forward nearly tripping over a grinning Jeyson.

“Oh my god--” Isabela lets out a deep breath, her hand finding her forehead as her eyes drift shut. “Jeyson, where did you go?”

Jeyson’s words come out muffled as he attempts to speak through a mouthful of hot dough.

“We went to get a funnel cake.”

“What?” Isabela’s eyes open.

Jeyson stands with a large plated funnel cake in hand. He wears a grin.

“You can have some,” he offers as Isabela brushes at the powered sugar dusting his cheek.

She blinks. “You don’t ever walk off without me or Ez. You don’t go with strangers, you know that--”

“He wasn’t a stranger.” Jeyson glances up from the piece of funnel cake in his hand. “He was daddy’s friend. He knew my name. He said it was a gift for doing good at my recital.”

His brown eyes widen as he takes in the look of confusion on Isabela’s face.

“Am I in trouble?” He asks. The possibility causes Jeyson’s smile to falter.

“No,” Isabela shakes her head, wrapping him in a hug. “You scared me, that’s all.”

You can learn a lot about a person from their home. Leo discovers all he needs about you the moment he enters yours.

Your son is the center of your universe.

Leo stands in your living room, his eyes passing over the incomplete Millennium Falcon set in the middle of the floor. Overstepping the abandoned legos, he moves closer for a better look at the photos hanging on the wall.

Jeyson is in nearly every photo. Spanning from baby photos, holiday shots, candid moments of fun, to yearbook photos, they allow Jeyson to grow up before Leo’s eyes.

He pauses at the latest hung photo.

Taken in September, it shows Jeyson standing between you and his father. The smile he wears matches Angel’s to the tee. It was taken on the first day of third grade. Jeyson is wearing his Gilman Prep uniform.

Leo lifts his phone, delaying long enough to snap a photo before moving on.

He starts his trek through the house. Sifting through recently delivered mail, abandoned on the kitchen counter. The piano holding the sheet music for Jeyson's recently passed recital. Studying the neatly printed schedule written across the whiteboard on the refrigerator door. The fully stocked bookshelf in Jeyson’s bedroom. The password-protected laptop on the desk of your office. The gun safe in your bedroom closet.

As he returns the closet door to its original position, his eyes pass over the room. They land on the dresser. The wooden, hand-carved jewelry box is smaller than he would anticipate from a woman. The first item to catch his attention is the oval cut diamond of your engagement ring, paired with the matching wedding band. He lifts both, pausing to study them in the sunlight peeking through the bedroom window. Returning them to their original resting place, he lifts the tiny velvet red box nearby. Inside, he finds a pearl necklace.

The necklace itself is simple. A single pearl embellished with a small, round white stone. It is a necklace you rarely take off. It was gifted to you years ago at a high school graduation dinner by Marisol.

Closing the box, Leo pockets it before leaving. The only sign he was ever there is the unlocked front door. It gives Ez a brief moment of a pause upon his return. He’s almost certain he locked it when they left. But with the high-speed rate Jeyson is talking at the moment, he chalks it up to his mind spacing.

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