#PACING around my kitchen punching the air

[stars-for-circe]

Firsts

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Tags / cw: weed, alcohol, implied making out, college party au, dealer!Ellie, tiny bit suggestive

The smell of weed was what first drew you outside to her. Well, it was a college party - there was going to be weed. But this was different. It was different. Somewhere, through that euphoric dizziness made from a punch that was more moonshine than mango juice, you smelled roses.

Like some fucked up cartoon, your feet carried your body out of the house, the air inside now warm from the oversupply of body heat and drunken dancing. God you were hot. A palm against your flushed red face once hidden from the colourful ambiance of the living room cooled you, as you weakly shoved your way around until you reached the door. Thank fuck.

“No, fuck-!”

You tripped. Either from your untied laces or the small ledge between tile kitchen and wooden porch, you couldn’t remember, but either way, you now found yourself face fucking first on the damp porch. Shit, you were drunk.

…And it felt nice. Really nice. So nice, in fact, that you couldn’t help but nestle your face against the cold floor, too focused on your slowing heart rate, your lowering temperature - the music from inside only detectable now in faint vibrations through the floor. You could stay here for a while, you thought. It was so quiet, and so cold and comfy,

“N’ it smells like roses…” you giggled to yourself.

“Yea? Think it’s just the weed, baby.” Ellie snickered to herself. And you jumped.

“Gah- holy shit!” You whisper-yelled and snapped your head up at her voice, body still splayed frozen like a starfish on the floor as your eyes adjusted to the dark. A couple metres in front of you sat Ellie Williams on the stairs, barely visible, and only by the small dot of light at the end of her joint and the soft glow of the street lamp.

She stared at you, while blinking slowly, a grin lazily painting itself across her face. You glared at her back, for destroying your peace, as she took another drag from that stupid joint. Your relaxed mind pinpointed the source of the roses - now stronger than ever - but it was too relaxed to understand what it really was. And Ellie noticed your staring.

“It’s uh, rose infused. My own special blend.” She waved it around as she spoke, looking proud of her creation. And the overstuffed baggie of cash by her side proved why.

“You wanna try some, cutie?”

You sat up at a leisurely pace, struggling a little in the dark. Then, you huffed out a laugh at this whole situation as you looked down at the floor in shame. Of all people you ran into, it was the fucking drug dealer. The only person you would have nothing in common with. You were 20 years old, for fucks sake, and you had never smoked weed.

“I um…can’t.”

“Why, already high? You look it.” She snickered again. Strong fucking strain, you thought.

“No, I just….can’t.”

“Oh.” Ellie furrowed her brows, leaning against the railing as she tried to find the words. God, this was so embarrassing, you just wanted to go back inside. And you almost did - twisting yourself around and leaning back on your feet to stand.

“…..want me to teach you?” She called out, waiting for your answer, and when you didn’t give one, she laughed, this time. Seriously, was it the fucking rose shit or what?

“Just-” Ellie tried saying, broken up with giggles.

“-come here. ‘M gonna try something.” Hesitantly, you tiptoed over to sit opposite her on the stairs, curious - and a little nervous - at what Ellie was planning. She took another deep drag, before sitting up straight and crossing her legs, focusing on you. And by now, you were blaming the butterflies in your stomach entirely on the alcohol.

“So, y’ever heard of shotgunning?”

Oh, fuck.

“Uh- yeah. Somewhat.”

And maybe if you weren’t so drunk, and if it wasn’t so dark, you would have noticed Ellie’s eyes trailing down to your lips. And maybe how her smart choice of shoes that night, a platform pair of converse, tucked itself perfectly between her legs - the slightest of pressure to ease the ache forming. But her eyes snapped back, all bleary and red, as she focused her attention back on making eye contact once again.

“And you won’t get nervous if I just…..get close or anything?” She was whispering now, already closing the distance bit by bit, a small smile adorning her face.

“No.”

She took another drag.

“And you won’t get nervous if I do this?” Her voice even softer now, as her hand - warm from resting in the pocket of her hoodie - gently cupped your face. The smoke coming from her mouth making your eyes water at the proximity, and the smell of roses making you heavy headed.

“No.” By now you were whispering, too. And she paused, eyes flicking to your lips again, this time lasting longer.

“Then close your eyes, baby.”

Through the rosy haze of weed smoke and alcohol, you could barely register her command, closing your eyes ever so slowly. You heard a small a small hitch of breath, and then a long deep puff of the joint in front of you. The hand cupping your face shifted slightly as Ellie rubbed her thumb gently along your skin, asking you to open your mouth. And when you did, you could have sworn you felt her thumb brush against your bottom lip, the both of you almost in a trance with each other, before the warm smoke blew into your mouth.

Fuck, was this really happening? You almost forgot to inhale it. But you did, in the end - the smell and taste of pungent weed lined with pink, airy roses sinking deep in your lungs. You let it sit there, resisting the strong urge to cough, before opening your eyes and exhaling slowly in tandem. And what a sight you were met with.

Ellie, with red, droopy eyes, mouth still open slightly as she watched your lips move and smoke billow out. Ellie, with the tiniest of curious smiles on her face as she watched your eyes slow to widen at the closeness of her face to yours. Ellie, coming even closer to your lips the longer you sat there.

“So, how’d you rate it?”

“Eh, a six….” You thought out loud.

“…I smell like roses now, though.” And you started giggling, as you stared at Ellie’s playfully unamused glare at your rating.

“First of all, fuck you - a six? Second of all, you smell like weed with roses.” She retorted, pinching your cheek softly. Fuck, her hand was still there, too. You tried to play your nervousness off, poking her in the centre of her chest as you tried to play back.

“And you smell good.” You whispered teasingly, leaning close once again. But Ellie, thank god for her higher tolerance, predicted exactly where you were going. Moving her hand from your cheek to the arm outstretched to her chest, pushing it to splay widely against her, trapping it there at the wrist, she met you in the middle. And your lips, between the thick smoke of it all, just breath touched. It went quiet again. But the heartbeat you felt between your fingers broke the silence each time it beat.

And you couldn’t see her expression so late at night - or so early in the morning, you should say - but the way her breath hitched, the way the soft beat of the music from inside of the house went quiet in your head, and the way the butterflies in your stomach became so very present-

“Do I smell good enough to kiss?”

You hesitated once again, hand once outstretched again her chest now closed in a loose fist.

“C’mon, baby…..you can’t do this, too?”

Oh, fuck you, you thought, stealing the joint and taking a hard drag, much to Ellie’s surprise - and amusement.

“Yeah, you gonna teach me or what, Williams?”

The joint now smoked the the butt, and crumbling to bits as Ellie scoffed, snatching it out of your grasp and flicked it onto the driveway. Both her hands free now as they grabbed your face and pulled you in.

“Better be more than a six…”

Taglist: @happysparklingshadows @irelandzo @r3starttt @iamaboringrattat @genderfluidlesbain999 @slut4mascss @rxreaqia @kylorey25 @massivepeacefemme @elliewilliamsfavborderhopper @elliewilliamsisactuallymygf @ratdungeon @elxarw @mariasabanahabanabana @vvynia @abbyshands @littlegingerperson5 @flowersforvi

#tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie williams smut

[realisticfanfictions]

Being Sanji's Girlfriend & Baratie's Head Waitress.

Sanji x Waitress!Reader

Working at Baratie wasn't without its challenges, and the fights that sprung up because of them weren't rare either. You and your boyfriend never sweated the small stuff, after all working in a high stress environment made you, well, stressed. But maybe some things can't be resolved that easily.

Tags: Sanji x Reader, Waitress!Reader, constant bickering, mostly fluff with some angst, (heavy) swearing.

A/N: I love the Waitress!Reader so much for OPLA, so I've decided to do another one! I had to split this up into multiple parts, cause this ended up being a bit long. (Link to part two.)

Word Count is 4,829. Hope you enjoy!

"Where the fuck are my entrees?!" Your voice echoed in the enclosed space, cutting through the melodic and rhythmic sounds of frying, chopping and other things that went on in a kitchen. You brushed past another waitress who wisely got out of your way, your heels clicking against the tiles as you marched up to the pass and slammed your copy of the meal ticket down. "Chef!" You called out, pushing back a strand of your hair as you scanned the chefs who were cooking at a ferocious pace. You locked eyes with an unfortunate new chef, but despite him immediately looking at his feet and trying to walk by, you reached through the window and pulled him by the collar. "Who the hell is on entrees?" He stumbled over his words and you groaned in frustration at his pathetic attempt at the English language.

"That's me." You pushed him back and looked past the cowering chef at the man who had just spoken up, your boyfriend and the love of your life, Sanji. His normally pressed and tidy chef attire was in disarray with his shirt untucked and his sleeves stained with various sauces. He sounded hoarse and was covered in a thin layer of sweat as he cooked some type of meat, flipping it over in the pan to cook it evenly. Intense concentration was etched into his face and the way he scrunched his nose was adorable, but right now you couldn't think of anything else but punching it.

You opened your mouth to speak, but a nearby busboy ran in front of you and you snarled at him. "Watch it, asshole!" You refocused your attention back on the blonde in front of you. "I have thirty-eight tables out there with at least four head a table, and only two waitresses working the floor-!"

He shook his head and his pan aggressively hit the stove top each time he moved it. "You know, it sounds so hard to look pretty and run around in heels all night, but I actually have a real job-"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really. And I'd appreciate it if I didn't have you bitching in my ear all night!" He threw some butter in the pan and began to bast the meat.

"Then maybe, if you were actually good at your 'real job'," You said with quotation marks. "Then you'd tell me why the shit it takes thirty-five goddamn minutes for a premade french onion soup!"

He whipped around with a laddle in his hand and he marched over to the pass. You both bent down to see each other through the window. "Hey, if I had any fucking help around here I would have gotten that to you twenty minutes ago, but I'm stuck here-"

"And here we go!" You exclaimed as you threw up your hands dramatically and walked through the swinging doors. You avoided Pattie walking out with a tray of fresh bread and popped on an apron attached to a nearby hook.

"-with my thumb up my arse because apparently no one knows how to plate a damn steak in this kitchen!" He moved around you as you took his place, grabbing the offending meat and placing it atop of the mashed potatoes.

Annoyed, you grabbed the garnish. "Well, where the hell's the plating station?"

Sanji came back and unceremoniously dropped a large stock pot next to you. He bent down to look you in the eye and threw his hands up in the air. "He quit."

Your eyes widened and followed him as he walked to the other side of you and started plating beside you. "He what?"

"He fucking quit! Just like every other bitch who couldn't handle Tuesdays at the Baratie." His brows furrowed and he let out a small shout of frustration. "Whoever the fuck did the halibut, refry it!" He yelled as he set it off to the side. "Just 'cause we're busy doesn't mean you can push out a shit and pass it off as fine dining!"

You plated another order and put it under the heat lamp at the pass, then rang the bell, but no one came. "And we're short-staffed on waitresses too!" You exclaimed and spotted the busboy from before, "Oi! You! Get off your ass and start serving!" You threw your ticket-book and pen at him, which he barely caught from where he was sitting.

"B-But I'm washing dishes-!"

You dramatically gestured around. "We aren't even sending anything out, so unless you've been storing them up your rectum, what fucking dishes are you washing?!" You grabbed the french onion soup in the stock pot that Sanji had given you and quickly poured it into three bowls laced with garnish on top. "Take these to 12, and the steak to 24. Tell 12 that they'll get a free dessert in about twenty minutes. Well? Get a move on! You aren't getting paid to sit there and look pretty, 'cause you sure as hell ain't fucking pretty!" He scrambled to pick them up and he quickly ran out of the kitchen.

"That turned me on more than I'd like to admit." Sanji appeared beside you with another plate and rang the service bell. "If we weren't busy I'd kiss you, darling." He exclaimed as he grabbed a handful of garnish and placed it atop of the plate.

"Oi, fuckface." When he looked over, you quickly pressed a kiss to his lips and grabbed the metal tray of halibut. "Now, let's get these pretentious pricks fed!"

You both worked side by side, barking orders at each other and bickering over every little thing you could - even Zeff yelled at you both to shut up. But it worked. Within minutes, you both had worked through the back orders and finally got to a point where you weren't struggling to complete orders from guests who'd been waiting for hours. When the last table left, you and Sanji just about collapsed. Leaning against the cool wall tile with you by his side, he sighed. "That was definitely one of our busiest days," He said with pure relief that it was finally over.

You couldn't remain standing and slid down the wall, your high heels clicking as you sat down. "Yeah, who knew so many people would wanna celebrate Father's Day?" You replied sarcastically, but a playful smile told your boyfriend that you weren't being mean. He softly chuckled and followed suit, sliding down the wall until he reached the floor with a groan.

He pulled out his cigarettes. "I've earned one of these." He says as he puts it between his lips and waits for you to light it. You roll your eyes and oblige, taking out your lighter and lighting the end of it for him. He took a slow drag, closed his eyes, savoured it, and then exhaled out the smoke.

"You almost make lung cancer look sexy." You remarked with a grin, and he returned it with his own charming, beautiful smile.

His eyes slowly flicked up and down. "And you always make yelling and shouting look so sexy." He licked his lips and leaned in, giving you a kiss that lingered. Your eyes fluttered shut and you enjoyed the small respite from the craziness you had both just experienced. Even when the kiss eventually ended, neither one of you moved away. "Are you working tonight?" He asked under his breath.

You sighed and pecked his lips. "In two hours."

"Till?"

"Four."

"Shit."

"I know." You pressed your lips against his once more and moved some hair out of his face. "But, I'm not working tomorrow so we can sleep in."

He sighed. "I start at nine tomorrow."

"Till?"

"Six."

"Shit."

"I know." You both quietly laughed and pressed your noses together, then rubbed them together while stealing kisses and giggling like you used to when you were kids.

You'd been at the Baratie ever since you were fifteen, and you'd been dating Sanji since you were sixteen. It wasn't really something you both had officially decided on, nor did either one of you do this big, elaborate confession that made both of you ugly-cry. It happened slowly over time. Many customers and fellow staff would constantly tease you both with things like, "Where's your girlfriend, Sanji?" and, "Aw! You both are so cute together!" At first you both denied it, but eventually you just... stopped correcting people. You were each other's first kiss, first love... first love, and despite how it looks from the outside, you couldn't be happier.

"Oi, Sanji." You called out as you leaned closer to the mirror to focus on your eyeshadow. "Be careful, there's been a lot of pirate activity lately. They might stop by, so Zeff has officially-unofficially instated a no-tolerance policy for- Sanji!" You laughed when your boyfriend wrapped his arms around you and you struggled to do your makeup while Sanji hung off of you and pressed kisses along your cheek. "You toad! You're going to ruin my smokey eye."

He playfully moaned. "But you're so sexy," He whined and pulled back enough to give you puppy eyes. "And you shouldn't work tonight if there's pirates anyway."

"I still have to work." You replied, giving up on doing your makeup and stealing a quick kiss from him. "I'm the head of front-of-house, I can't just ring up Zeff and say, 'hey, your son wants to sleep with me so I can't come in today!'"

"No, you can't." At the sound of his voice, you looked up to see that your boss had entered you and Sanji's shared room. He would have seen the neatly pressed and ironed button-downs wrapped around hangers, and two mismatching pairs of high heels strewn about the floor. His eyes met yours. "We have a full house of rich, but important pricks tonight, and I need all hands on deck. If someone calls in sick, drag them out of bed if you have to."

Your boyfriend pouted playfully. "But she never gets any time off, can't we just-"

"(Y/N) is our head of house, she's too important to lose tonight." Zeff straightened up and crossed his arms over. "Little Eggplant, you can't distract (Y/N) from doing her job. Unlike you, she has to work to stay here." The old man looked over at you and you nodded, you knew that you were a staff member first and foremost - being the girlfriend of his adopted son was second to that.

Sanji's smile tightened, and he stood up. "I know." His blue eyes flashed with something that you meant he wanted to say something but didn't. His smile returned when he looked at you. "I'll see you in the morning."

As he brushed past Zeff and walked out of the room, you furrowed your eyebrows at your boss and father figure. "Now that's one way to get him pissed off at you." The words came out a little more aggressive than you meant to, but you didn't bother correcting yourself.

He sighed and turned to leave. "Leave it alone, (Y/N)."

"And one way to get me pissed off at you too." You dropped your eyeshadow onto the table and followed after him. His wide frame took up quite a bit of space in the hallway, but you squeezed past him to block his path.

Zeff groaned when he saw you and squeezed the bridge of his nose, then released it to gesture while he spoke. "(Y/N), I apologise if you felt offended. You're a part of our family, and--"

"I don't care about that." You scoffed in disbelief and gawked at his lack of social awareness. "You must be really thick in the skull if you think I'm upset about that."

His face scrunched up. "Then what are you upset about? Hm? What are you upset about now?" He gestured behind you. "I have dinner service to prep for," He started to list off on his fingers. "I have a team of flaky waitresses-your team of flaky waitresses to deal with, and I need to make sure that we have enough lamb being delivered for our special tonight. So what could it possibly be that is so important you're holding me up for?"

You counted to five in your head before opening your mouth to speak. "I love him. And I don't give a rat's ass that you sign my paycheck, or give me a roof over my head. You don't make Sanji, my boyfriend and your son, feel shitty just because you think it'll toughen him up. And you certainly don't use me to do that." You keep your gaze locked onto his. "You ever do that again? I walk." You stepped backward and straightened up. "I'll get the team ready for service."

You never regretted what you said. Was your tone harsher than it should've been? Yes, but you needed to get your point across to him. There wasn't any time to think about it though, because it was Friday night and thirty minutes before opening - you didn't have the time to regret what you said.

"Ladies!" You called out, then smiled. "And Sapi." Said fishman smiled at your acknowledgement as your team of staff gathered around to form a semi-circle in front of you. You held up your checklist. "We have fifteen V.I.P tables tonight. I expect everyone to be on their best behaviour. That means no frowning, no blowing your nose on the customer's napkins, and no- oh my God, Macy. If you don't shut the fuck up." The red-lipped, pigtail-wearing waitress jolted back from where she was gossiping with another waitress. You raise your brows at her as if to ask if she was done and rolled your eyes. "And no unprofessionalism." You finished with a glare.

Spai cleared his throat. "How many free tables do we have tonight?"

You looked back at the clipboard and flipped over the page, counting quietly to yourself. "There's two at seven and one at eight. The two at seven are one and eight, and the one at eight is seven. One can be for eight, but don't offer seven to under six because seven and six are over eight. Got it?"

The room was quiet for a moment, and Sapi slowly blinked. "May I have a copy of that, please?"

"I'll bring one to your station," You looked around. "Any questions?" Silence. "Good. Now, put on your fakest smile and happy ga-ga voice - we've got a line of ships waiting to be fed!"

"Let's do this, team!" Macy's voice screeched out and she was met with silence.

You exhaled gruffly and squeezed the bridge of your nose. "Macy, I swear to- let's do this, team!" This time, it was met with a round of cheer as they dispersed to familiarise themselves with their tables for the night.

A pleased sigh escaped you, content with your small but mighty team that you had managed to drag out of bed to work the floor. A glance to the suspiciously blank specials menu made you curse under your breath. You were going to have to talk to Zeff to get tonight's specials. With a defeated sigh, you clipped your pen to your shirt and sucked in a deep breath, before making your way to the kitchen where it sounded like food preparations were already underway.

"...and get those lamb in the cold room!" Zeff's voice was apparent the second you walked through those doors. The kitchen was a mess of people marching backwards and forwards like ants while Zeff, their queen, barked orders as they passed by. You thought about just turning around and pretending that the fight had never happened in the first place, but the old man spotted you and waved you over with a finger. "What can I get you, Sprout?" You breathed out a sigh of relief, hearing his nickname for you was like a wave of fresh air.

You straightened up and grabbed your pen. "Hey geezer, what's the specials tonight?"

He waited for you to finish writing "Specials" across the top of your sheet of paper. "We have Lobster Thermidor paired with the 1500s Chardonnay, or a White Burgundy if they snub the Chardonnay. Then we have classic Red-Wine Braised Lamb Shanks that you can pair with any Grenache you find." He slid a piece of paper to you. "These are the prices. I only want you handling checks tonight."

Out of sheer habit, you slipped the piece of paper into your bra. "Why's that?"

"Because someone messed up the till last night, and I want someone I can trust running it."

That made your heart clench. You sighed. "Look, Zeff," You started and lowered your clipboard. "I'm sorry for stepping out of line earlier. I was angry. Sanji was trying to get some 'us' time because we haven't even been awake at the same time for the last couple months. And when we have it's been with me running the floor and him- you know what I mean. Look, I'd never walk out on you, Zeff."

His face, as always, was blank, but you can tell he was processing what you had just said. He was quiet, but then he nodded. "Get those specials on the board. We open in ten." You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded, then turned around. "Don't fuss, little brussel sprout."

A smile wormed its way onto your face and you looked over your shoulder at him. "Fussin' ain't worth fussing over. Isn't that what you say?" You barely dodged an incoming head of lettuce.

"Good evening, welcome to the Baratie. My name is (Y/N), can I get you started with some drinks tonight?" You were a natural at this. It didn't matter if you were having an "anti-person day", as Sanji called it, there was no denying that you had talent.

The man with soft, pink hair hummed and looked over the menu. His brass knuckles glistening under the dim lighting of the restaurant. "What are your specials for the night?"

A polite smile went a long way. "The chef has prepared for you a selection of the most wonderful meals made only from the finest and freshest ingredients in the Ease Blue. We have Lobster Thermidor paired with a Chardonnay that I find adds a bit of a fruity, uplifting compliment to the meal. And we have our high-in-demand Lamb Shanks braised in a nice red wine, and paired with only the best Grenache you can find for miles." You didn't bother telling him that it was the same Grenache you had found in the back of the freezer from four months ago.

"That sounds lovely, and what is the cost?"

You quietly hissed and looked over at the beautiful blonde who was sitting across from him, then leaned in to whisper. "I find it's best not to discuss such things on a date. You wouldn't want her to think she isn't worth it, right?"

Well, that certainly worked. He slowly looked between you and his date, who smiled sweetly and encircled the rim of her glass with her perfectly manicured french tips. He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. "You're right. We'll take one of each, and I'll have to rely on you for what pairs best."

You took the menu he offered with a smile and a nod. "Very well sir, I hope you two enjoy yourselves. Our bar is open all night." And with a wink, you danced away to the kitchen to place 'his' order. It was easy with men like that. All you had to do was dangle their woman's respect in front of them and they'd eat shit just to keep her smiling. But despite the monotony of it at times, you met a lot of interesting people from different backgrounds. You gave a small wave at the man at table two, a regular who had just come back from his royal ballet tour appearance and was with his rich, aristocrat girlfriend, who he said wasn't feeling well.

An set of voices, loud and uncouth, came from above and you stopped to cast a glance upwards. They were... pirates? Well, Zeff did say that they'd been more active around this area as of late, so it wasn't that much of a surprise - especially since there was already a couple tables of them. Sapi looked a little overwhelmed, so you sighed and grabbed a nearby waitress. "Could you take an order to the kitchen for me? It's table three with the two specials, two too. The man at two in the tutu wants it blue, but not at two with Ms. Sue in the red shoes. She has a touch of the flu, so any red meat or roux will make her spew. Got it?"

She blinked. "I think so?"

You patted her on the shoulder and briskly floated up the stairs with as much grace as a head waitress could muster. Their conversation slowly grew louder and you were able to hear some of their conversation. "My apologies, but I don't accept money for-"

"Is there something I can help you with?" At your words, the group looked over and Sapi, who had been trying to refuse some berri the orange-haired woman was offering him, visibly relaxed.

"Nothing is the matter, this group was just leaving." He answered and looked at them to see if they got the hint. The woman sighed in defeat and pocketed her cash. You looked over at the two young men leant against the railing staring into the restaurant below, they were very excited and looked as if they hadn't eaten a proper meal for a few days.

With your mind set, you glanced over at the time, then straightened up and smiled. "You know what? It's seven, so I believe we might have a booth available if that's suitable for your needs?"

She smiled and breathed out a small sigh of relief. "Thank you, here-"

You held up a hand before she could reach into her pocket. "Save that for your meal." With a quick nod to Sapi, you stepped aside and gestured toward the staircase. "Follow me." The man with green hair and three swords rubbed you the wrong way almost the second you laid eyes on him, and you could tell he felt the same way. It was almost a sense of mutual familiarity. But you broke off eye contact to lead the rest of this strange, rambunctious crew further into the Baratie. "The Baratie was established by our current owner Zeff, and we recently celebrated our tenth anniversary."

The boy in the straw hat gawked at everything he saw and heard you say, and smiled brightly. "This place looks like it serves good food!"

That brought a smile to your face. "It does," You said as you guided them to their booth amidst other pirates and similar rough-looking guests. "And I don't just say that because my boyfriend's the sous chef."

"Are you sure about that?" The guy in a pirate costume asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief and laughing along with his young friend.

You smiled along and shook your head. "I'll let you guys get settled in and will return in about five minutes with a menu. Please enjoy the music." With a few friendly waves and a "see you in a bit!" from the straw hat boy, you turned and walked toward the back of the room to collect a few menus.

Suddenly, the door slammed open and your boyfriend appeared looking more than a bit annoyed. You didn't even think he was on the line tonight, but your attention was drawn to two men who had began to cause a bit of a ruckus. You weren't close enough to hear what was being said, but you tucked the menus under your armpit and darted toward the pair that were now being consoled by Sanji. "...we don't waste food, and there's no fighting at the Baratie." You slowed your walk toward them and continued at a crawl. The man you had served not that long ago was dealing with a rowdy pirate. You heard something that sounded like a threat and Sanji spoke up again, his voice cutting through the argument before it had the chance to escalate. "And I'd like to pour you each a glass of Ithürzburger Stein. On the house."

The pirate nodded. "Okay, I'll have that drink." His brows furrowed and his voice grew irrate. "After he apologies for his bad manners!"

"Over my dead body." That was certainly the wrong answer. With a growl, they both lunged for each other and you sped toward them, watching as Sanji, in a blur, flipped over the table and kicked each of them.

The pink haired man grunted and got back up on his feet, drawing his gun but then froze when he felt something cold dig into his back. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." You warned, shoving your own gun into his back and whispered in his ear. "Drop it." Like the coward he was, he did and you effortlessly slammed the butt of your weapon into his temple - knocking him out cold.

You motioned for a nearby waitress to deal with the unconscious men, then snapped your attention to Sanji who picked up his plate of scones and continued his walk. "No cause for alarm, folks. Please, enjoy your meals." He called out and you quickly pocketed your gun back into your thigh-holster, smoothing out your dress and turning to the waitress who had arrived at your side.

After gesturing for her to take them out the back door, you readjusted yourself and quickly walked up to Sanji's side who's forced smile made you tilt your head in confusion. He shook his head, he didn't want to talk about it just yet. You both made the few steps over to the table you had just seated and, despite his mood, he set down the plate with his usual grace. "Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food. My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?" While he spoke, you placed down some menus and tried to ignore the straw hat boy who was currently stuffing his face full of our complimentary scones.

The woman grabbed a menu from you with a smile, but the others had their eyes locked onto Sanji. "One of everything, please!" The straw hat boy called out without taking a look at the menu you had walked twenty feet in high heels to collect.

"Any drinks?" Your boyfriend offered as he shoved his hands into his pocket, unconsciously looking for his packet of smokes that you knew he couldn't light. You briefly wondered if you should offer him a smoke break to calm him down. "One of our signature cocktails to help you choke down your meal?"

"Giving us the hard sell, huh?" She asked as she slowly lowered her menu and you found it increasingly harder not to smack the blond.

And, as usual, his entire demeanour changed. "Apologies, madam. I didn't see you there. Would you care for an aperitif to start? We have several rare Micqueot vintages in stock. Or perhaps you'd like a glass of Umeshu? You know, something sweet-" He winked. "-for someone sweet."

"Something wrong with your eye?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow.

You cleared your throat. "No, but there is something wrong with his head if he thinks he can flirt with another girl in front of his girlfriend."

That garnered a few giggles, snickers and mock gasps from the table. Sanji chuckled and turned to you. "I hope I'm not in the doghouse tonight?" He pulled you in and gave you a quick kiss on your cheek, but you waved him off.

"We'll see." You shot him a not-so-serious warning look and focused back on the table. "Sorry about that, did I hear you were after some drinks?"

The green-haired male looked you up and down, faint recognition in his eyes as he cleared his throat. "Can I get a beer and something for my friends?"

The pirate-costumed man spoke up. "Two beers. I usually have three, but-"

"And a milk!"

You scribbled down their orders, and Sanji's hand crept around your waist. "Three beers and a milk. And, uh, for madam?"

"Water."

"Still, sparking, mineral? With ice or without? Cubed or crushed?"

You stopped writing and slowly looked up to your boyfriend. "...Taken, Sanji." You reminded him and he stared back at you innocently.

Even the woman leaned back in confusion. "Regular water, in a regular glass. Thanks."

"Right away." He said with a wistful expression, and with the roll of your eyes, you dragged him away before he made a further fool of himself.

AN: Sorry about ending it there, but it was getting WAY too long and I figured it'd be easier to break it up into multiple pieces rather than having one solid chunk of 12k words. Or however long this fic ends up being. I'm actually kinda digging it, so I may continue to write it for a while! Also, I have no idea how old Sanji is meant to be in this universe? According to the internet (and the massive reddit fight I accidentally spawned) it's a tossup between 19 and 26 (OP Sanji's vs the actor's actual age.)

I also hope you appreciate the word-puns. I don't know why but I really enjoy writing them and love to include them in my writing-

#sanji x you #opla sanji x you #sanji x reader #one piece #fanfiction #anime #one piece fluff #one piece headcanons #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #black leg sanji #one piece sanji #roronoa zoro #blackleg sanji #sanji vinsmoke #straw hat pirates #opla #opla sanji #opla x reader #one piece netflix #one piece live action #opla sanji x y/n #sanji x y/n #opla sanji x reader

[nescaveckwriter]

Somewhere In The Sunshine 🌻

Line: Failed Rescue 😱 will be in bold

A/N: YAY! Yet another one done for @jacklesversebingo 🐞 well this one broke my heart, I'm not even kidding, this is heartbreakingly sad, grab a tissue or two🤗💕🩷 sorry in advance.

Warnings: Some language, angst, heartbreak, blood gore, violence, mention of being taken hostage, death.

Characters: Dean Winchester x Female Reader, Mentions of Sam, Cas and Crowley.

Cover: Created by me. Also images from Pinterest and Canva.

Words:1440

His heart racing, the sweat on his forehead, evidence of the nightmare he once again had, sitting upright, and without even looking to your side, his hand starts searching for your warm little body, a habit, whenever he had a nightmare, but then soon he realizes the nightmare he just had, was about you, and the damn failed rescue attempt.

Getting out of your shared bed, now pacing up and down, tired of the way he feels and damn tired of the emptiness he feels in his chest, its been months since the three of you attacked that vamp nest.

Shaking his head, as if it will remove the memories, the love and the sorrow, but it doesn't, if anything it only makes it worse, every time he tries to lay down and get some shut eye, he starts dreaming of you, your laugh, your sarcastic little come backs, the way you'd dance in the kitchen while cleaning and listening to the music you loved so much, the way you'll tease him, walking around with only his plaid shirts hugging your curves, the way you'll let a  giggle escape, whenever he threw his arms around you, and starts kissing the nape of your neck, the way you'll turn around and look at him, with passion dancing in those pretty eyes, the way, you'll pout your lips when you really want him too kiss you, the way your hands will messily go through his hair as the passion ignites more, the way  your body will be all tangled up with his till dawn, the way your sweet voice greets him early morning, placing little kisses on his lips , the way your fingers will linger on his face, saying how much you loved each and every freckle, the way you'd describe, the green in his eyes its between forest and emerald green, with just a tad bit of hazel in them, near the iris, you'd say, with that sweet, flirty, mischievous smile, revealing the way your little smile lines, curved

But all those loving memories soon gets replaced with what happened that dreadful night.

Falling down at the side of your bed, taking ahold of your pillow, it still has the scent of your hair, breathing it in deeply, as if he can breathe you in once more, holding on too it, as if its you, fighting back the tears mixed with anger, guilt and the image of your lifeless body in his arms.

 It was supposed to be a easy hunt, in and out, the three of you have done these hunts hundreds of times, and that morning when he and Sammy planned the hunt, he would've never thought it'll be your last. 

The two of them, met you on a case in Kansas, while a ghost where hunting your newly rented apartment, at first you didn't believe in such thing's as monsters and ghosts, but you soon learned there's way more of them out there than you'd ever could think. So you started to learn all you can about the lore, and then the three of you met up, on a windigo hunt a few years ago, and it didn't take long for him too tell you, about how he felt, the two of you were madly in love, so the day he asked you to move in, you said yes without hesitation. You were the only sunshine in his life, the only glimmer of hope.

While the three of you, checked out the vamps hiding place, you somehow got lost in the woods, before you could do anything the vamp's hand squeezed around your neck, lifting you up in the air, you tried screaming but, no words came out, try kicking and punching, but the only thing you'll be able to touch was the air, between you and this creature.

He tied you down to a chair, you tried to wiggle your way out, but he just beat the crap out of you, leaving your face a bloodied pulp, he forced you to make a call, to Dean too tell him you've been taken, the vamp's plan along to get the Winchester Brothers, and trap them as well.

The distraught stare on Dean's face when he saw you, head hanging slightly, blood dripping on too your legs, your once tied-up hair, now messily framing your face, once you looked up, he gasp for air, as e saw your pretty face beaten, he balled his fist's, shouting now ''hey freak, you want me? come an get me'' 

The vampire came from the dark corner, storming down on him, Dean just gave him a mischievous smile, as he dug out from under the creature's fist, pushing that wooden stake through his back, with all his strength he arranged it, piercing his heart, the creature tumbled down to the ground,  Dean just left him there, running towards, where you were sitting, untying you, placing his left arm on your back, and the right under your legs, cradling you, the only words you got out ''Dean, look out'' as another man came running in, catching a glimpse of Sam, fighting two off outside.   

He quickly placed you down, getting ready to fight this other vampire, he whispered ''Stay with me sweetheart, I'll get you out of here.'' you just nodded, making your way to a stand, preparing yourself, to fight in case, there were more, where in honesty you hoped there won't be, your body, was aching, and to tell you the truth, you were tired, wanting to go home, and to fall asleep in Dean's arms, but first the three of you had to get out of this sticky situation.

Making your way over to, the deceased vampire, removing the wooden stake, sliding it too Dean, he gestures you a thank you, as he drove it through the creature's heart, but it was in that moment, when you heard an unfamiliar voice from behind you ''You took my brothers, from me Winchester, now I'll take someone from you'' before Dean could race towards your position, the man behind you smiled, as he shifted that blade through your spine, revealing the blood stained silver in the front of your shirt, you dropped down too the floor, tears streaming down your cheeks, the blood pooling in front of you, hearing a loud bang, as Sam shot him, just to get him away from, Dean bolted towards him, driving the stake through his heart, screaming ''NO''  

He collapsed down to you, ''Sweetheart, stay with me'' cupping your cheek, you place your hand over his, your voice barely audible ''I love you'' 

He smiles, ''I love you too, but you can tell me that when your better okay?''

A weak look on your face, ''Baby'' he places a finger on your lips, his voice concerned ''save your strength'' as he inspects you, realizing you don't have much time, his voice heavy with emotion, ''I'll get Cas, I'll ask Crowley, but baby, I.. I'll l have you in my arms again soon okay''

Trembling from the coldness, running through your body, your voice low, shaky, ''No Dean! I don't want to come back, half a person, you need to let me go, I will be somewhere in the sunshine, smiling down at you, waiting for you, alright'' sobbing now frantically, ''let me go, please''

Dean sat there destroyed, tears wetting his eyes, he can't say the words, he just nods, going down tasting your lips for the last time, as he kisses you, he feels your last breath rushing over his lips, he breaks down, balling now as he holds your lifeless body in his arms, rocking forwards and backwards, knowing this will be the last time he'll be able too hold you. Unsure of how long Sam stood there, eyes glazed with wetness, knowing his brother lost the love of his life. 

They gave you a proper hunters funeral, so many people came, some friends, some just other hunters and some, just people you saved, Dean couldn't say much at the funeral just that ''he loved you very much'' the weeks there after was torture, he kept thinking you'll come running towards him, jumping in his arms, but nothing, he was all alone, well he had Sammy, and Cas, but he didn't have you. 

As he sits there holding the pillow, taking notice, that its morning, he glances through the window, recalling your last words again, like every morning, a little smile tugging at his lips,'' I will be somewhere in the sunshine'', giving him enough strength to pick himself up from the ground, and get ready to go save a few more people. 

#somewhereinthesunshine #jacklesversebingo23 #nescaveckwriter #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #spotify #jared padalecki #jensen ackles x reader #sam and dean #dean winchester imagine #Spotify

[godlizzza]

prompt: danbert trying to makeup after a particularly nasty argument

"You ruined my life!"

"You ruined your own life, now stop trying to ruin mine with your incessant whining."

Dan bared his teeth, the viciousness at odds with the redness of his eyes. With his shoulders shaking and his breath stuttering out of him in angry puffs, he looked just as ready to punch Herbert as he did to burst into tears. Herbert didn't know which he would've hated more.

"I wish I never met you," Dan bit out, the words barely scraping past his clenched teeth. "The world would be better off without you."

Herbert turned from the cupboard he was stacking dry dishes into--this is what he got for trying to make an effort around the house to appease Dan--and faced him, keeping his emotions simmering below the surface, where Dan couldn't see them. He injected cool indifference into his expression, watching Dan nearly bursting at the seams with all that he was feeling. So much hatred and passion, all for him.

"And what have you done for the world?" Herbert wondered, satisfaction unfurling in his stomach as he watched the blows land, Dan's mouth dropping open in hurt and shock. "Where are all these people you've supposedly helped? Saved? I don't see anyone. Anything of merit you've ever accomplished has been because of me. Without me, you're nothing. You mean nothing to anyone. Except me."

Herbert stared at Dan, watching him shake for a moment before Dan turned without another word and stalked away. His footfalls stomped loudly up the rickety wooden steps, followed by a door slamming shut.

Good. Let him stew and fester, Herbert thought, the words he'd spat at Dan leaving remnants of acid burning in his mouth. He tried to focus in on his task once again, piling plates atop each other and sliding them onto the shelf, but it seemed the one stewing and festering was him. He tried to shake it off, push the image of Dan's wounded expression from his mind, but those sad brown eyes refused to leave him.

Herbert stood on his toes, trying to place the glass salad bowl up on the top shelf, but all he could manage was pressing the edge of the bowl against the lip of wood. It wobbled precariously, half in his grip, half on the shelf, before he sighed and pulled it back down. How many times had Dan entered the kitchen to find Herbert struggling with that same damned shelf? How many times had he chuckled, taken the object from Herbert's grasp and put it away himself before turning back to Herbert and kissing his head?

It was a level of gooey domesticity that Herbert never thought he'd indulge in with anyone. But Dan wasn't anyone.

Cold tendrils of guilt and regret wormed their way into Herbert's chest and he sighed, knowing it was on him to clear the air. So, he slowly made his way up the stairs and down the hall to Dan's room. He rapped his knuckled lightly on the door before pushing it open.

"Dan?" he said, poking his head in.

Dan was sat on the edge of his bed-- one he'd shared with Herbert quite a few times now-- with his back to the door. He was slumped over, his face buried in his hands. Herbert wondered if he'd just been sitting there like that this whole time as he closed the door with a soft click behind him.

"Don't be mad at me," Herbert murmured, slowly pacing towards the bed. "You know I didn't mean any of it."

"Yes, you did," came Dan's husky reply. Had he been crying? "You meant it and you're right. I've never helped anyone."

"That's not true," Herbert simpered, crawling across the bed until he was on his knees and wrapping his arms around Dan's shoulders. "You've helped me. I don't know where I'd be without you."

When Dan didn't respond, Herbert laid his head down on Dan's back, squeezing him tight. In his experience, nothing thawed Dan quite like physical affection. He could pout and say sorry all he wanted, but if he wanted to shoot straight at Dan's heart, he needed him in his arms, needed him to feel the heat of his body. Herbert nuzzled at the back of his neck, soft hairs brushing his nose.

"Even if you're nothing to anyone else," Herbert said softly, "you're everything to me, Danny."

With his fingers knitted together over Dan's sternum, Herbert felt it when he dragged in a ragged breath. After a moment, Dan's hands pressed over Herbert's, cradling them between his dry palms. He squeezed Herbert's hands, pushing them close to his chest until Herbert could feel the steady beat of his heart drumming against his fingertips.

"Herbert," Dan whimpered, then said nothing more, as if there was nothing else he could even think to say.

Herbert just smiled against his back and held him.

#toxic yaoi hours activate #danbert #dan cain #herbert west #re-animator #reanimator #my fics #asks #writing prompt

[chr0macide]

Break In: The Novelette (Fanfic)

Part 2 is out

BOOM FIRST TUMBLR POST. I am currently normal about the Roblox Break In series so I decided to try and recreate it as a short story. This is my first time writing anything seriously for fun so I'm sure the pacing is all kinds of fucked up but I did enjoy making it lol. I tried to follow the game's storyline as closely as possible but I also took a few creative liberties and tried to give the characters more personality, not sure how well it worked though lol. This is just the first Break In but I might also do this to Break In 2 as well, probably won't happen in the immediate future though. This thing is about 9,500 words. If you have any feedback/notice errors please do comment :)

Chapter I – Silent House

An old coupe trundled down the road of a quaint suburban neighborhood. Four kids were crammed uncomfortably inside it. One of them reached into his bag of chips, elbowing his younger sister next to him as he did so.

“Ugh. Watch it, Hadrian,” she grumbled.

“You watch it,” Hadrian replied as he shoved the chips into his mouth. The girl reached over to steal one out of the bag. Hadrian slapped her hand away.

“You jerk!” she shrieked, swinging her teddy bear into Hadrian’s face. Hadrian grabbed a handful of his sister’s dark hair and pulled. The two older kids in the car groaned as their younger siblings began bickering and jostling everyone else around.

“Hadrian. Stephanie. Cut it out,” warned the older sister. The younger kids quieted down, but only slightly. “I’m serious! Prince, tell them to stop,” she said to the driver.

The car ground to a halt. “Monica, it’s fine. We’re here,” said the older brother. He removed the key from the ignition. The engine made a worrisome rattling sound as it shut off. He grabbed the handle of the car door next to him and jiggled it. The door was stuck. “Damn this old shitbox,” he muttered as he forced it open.

The four kids squeezed out and breathed in the fresh air. “Finally,” said Stephanie. Prince walked around the car and popped the trunk open, removing the family’s only suitcase.

They’d parked in front of a modest two-story house. It was old and the paint was starting to peel, but at least it looked cozy on the inside.

The front door of the neighboring house creaked open. Out stepped an older man with sunglasses. Uncle Pete. After Prince and Monica had managed to get custody of their siblings, they all knew they had to get away from their parents’ house.

Pete was wealthy. He owned more than a few properties. He’d agreed to let them stay here for free. They weren’t sure why he owned two houses right next to each other. Old people were weird sometimes, but they weren’t complaining.

Prince waved at Uncle Pete. “Evening, Pete!” he called out. Pete just smiled and waved back.

“He’s, uh, usually nonverbal,” Monica explained to her younger siblings. “Anyway. Let’s get inside,” she suggested.

Prince stuck his hand under the welcome mat and fished out a keychain. He tried to jam several different keys into the lock before the door opened. Everyone stepped inside.

“It’s musty,” Stephanie complained. Hadrian made a beeline for the couch in the living room as he shoved another handful of chips into his face. He collapsed onto it and proceeded to ignore everyone.

“It’s not that bad,” Monica claimed. Truthfully, there was a slight odor in the house, but that was probably just because no one had aired the place out for a while. “Come on, let’s open these,” she said to Stephanie as she unlatched one of the windows.

Prince inspected the kitchen. They hadn’t had a chance to go grocery shopping yet, so the cupboards were barren. He took out his phone. “Pizza, anyone?” he called out to the others. They yelled their approval from the other rooms.

“Fine!”

“Sure!”

Prince punched a string of digits into the number pad and put the phone to his ear. “Is this Builder Brothers Pizza? OK, we’ll have a large pineapple—”

“NO!” bellowed Hadrian from the living room.

Prince rolled his eyes. “Fine. A large pepperoni as well,” he added.

Monica called out to him from the other room. “Prince! Get over here!” she said. Prince finished up the call and followed her voice until he was standing before a door with a large padlock affixed to it. Monica and Stephanie turned to him.

“This door looks cool. Open it,” Stephanie demanded.

Prince squinted at the padlock. “I don’t know… Pete probably locked it for a reason.”

“What, are you scared?” the girl joked. “You can lock it again if there’s a monster inside.”

The eldest brother pursed his lips. He wasn’t worried about monsters, but he’d heard rumors of growing criminal activity around this neighborhood. Although…

Prince rifled through the pockets of his cargo shorts until he located the keychain. He found the right key and inserted it into the padlock. It clicked open and fell to the ground with a dull thunk. Prince gently opened the door.

There were concrete steps leading down into a basement. They couldn’t see anything through the darkness, but the cold, stagnant air rushed out over them.

“That’s ominous,” Monica remarked.

Stephanie grinned in excitement and took a step inside, but Prince put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “No, Steph. It’s too dark to see anything in there. You’ll get hurt,” Prince told her. Steph stuck out her lower lip and pouted, but she didn’t try to run inside again. Prince shut the door.

The doorbell rang. The pizza was here. At the same time, Hadrian yelled at everyone from the living room again. “Guys! There’s breaking news on the TV!”

“Coming,” Prince yelled back. “You guys go ahead. I’m gonna get the food,” he told the girls.

Prince opened the front door. It was almost dark outside, and starting to rain, too.

“Sup,” said the delivery guy. Prince took a small step backwards. The guy was pretty big. “Two large pizzas?”

“Yeah,” Prince confirmed. He took the pizza boxes and set them aside before he rummaged through his cargo shorts again for his wallet. He opened it. The family had been low on cash ever since they left their parents’ place. He handed a $20 note to the delivery guy, but he continued to look at Prince expectantly. “Uh… no tip this time. Sorry. That’s all I got right now,” Prince admitted, averting his eyes.

The delivery guy threw up his arms in disbelief. “Dude, are you for real?” he questioned.

“Sorry,” Prince apologized again.

The pizza guy shoved the bill into his pocket. He turned around and trudged over to his motorcycle. “This is my livelihood, man,” he muttered. Prince fidgeted with his wallet guiltily as the guy sped off.

Nonetheless, Prince picked up the pizza boxes and brought them into the living room. Right as he set them down on the coffee table, there was a clap of thunder. The lights in the house blinked out abruptly. The TV flickered off.

Monica glanced outside. The streetlights were also off. There was a power outage.

Everyone looked out the window and saw Uncle Pete’s silhouette leave his house through the back door. He ran a cable to a box outside. He ran another one from the box to their own house. The box hummed to life.

“Oh, it’s a generator,” Monica figured. The lights didn’t turn on, but the TV did. Pete noticed everyone staring at him through the window. He waved at them again before running back into his home.

They turned to the TV and started eating their pizza as the news reporter began speaking. The screen showed a gang of mobsters wearing fine suits and tuxedos, their faces obscured by comedy masks. They were dumping a barrel of some unknown liquid into a storm drain. The picture appeared to have been taken through somebody’s broken windowpane.

The Purge has Begun, Villains on the Loose, read the headline. “This is not a drill. Agents of the mafia are roaming the streets,” said the news anchor. The image on the screen shifted. A short video played of a second group of mobsters smashing someone’s car window with his crowbar. They dragged a man out. One of them raised a gun to the civilian’s head, but the video was cut off before anything else happened.

“Goddamn,” muttered Prince.

“Do not engage these fugitives under any circumstances. There have been 19 confirmed deaths and many more confirmed injuries so far. Keep doors locked and windows closed at all times,” the news anchor continued.

Another image appeared on the screen. “Their leader is Larry Clockturn,” said the news anchor.

Monica stifled a laugh at the mob boss’s appearance. A grey beard hid the lower half of his face. He was old, and he definitely dressed like it. Bowler hats were not in fashion. There was a domino mask over his eyes. He wore a violet waistcoat with a rose affixed to the lapel over his black undershirt. A peculiar golden crowbar was in his hand.

The image switched to a mugshot of Larry. Monica stopped laughing. “Wait, that’s not a person,” she said. Now that they were looking at him up close, she realized that his skin was unnaturally shiny. His golden eyes glowed faintly in the dark and his face seemed stiff and lifeless.

“Is he a robot, or something?” asked Stephanie.

“I don’t know… he looks more like an automaton,” Monica replied.

Stephanie looked at her funny. “Is there a difference?”

“Well, yeah,” said Monica. “At least, I think so. Robots use electricity, but automatons have engines or something-”

Hadrian shushed her as the news anchor continued talking. “If you see this entity, run away and hide. Larry Clockturn is considered by authorities to be an extremely dangerous serial murderer. Do not engage him under any circumstances. Special forces have been dispatched to regulate the situation. I repeat, this is not a drill.”

There was static as the program ended. A standby screen appeared on the TV. Nobody spoke at first.

“That shit is wild,” said Hadrian, deadpan. Stephanie peered through the window nervously. “I told you we should have gone to Bloxburg!” she hissed to Prince.

“And I told you, Steph, we don’t have that kind of money.”

“Guys. Be quiet.” Monica was the one staring out the window now, but the streetlights were still off. If there were any mobsters creeping around outside, she couldn’t tell. “Can’t see shit. Maybe they don’t know we’re here, either… let’s just go upstairs.”

Prince grabbed the suitcase he’d left by the front door. He partially unzipped it and felt around inside until he found the flashlight, then switched it on and held it in front of him as he lugged the bag up the stairs. The others followed him from behind until he came to the bedroom. He dropped the bag just inside.

“Phew.” Prince was too tired to unpack, and now probably wasn’t the best time, anyway. He cautiously made his way to the window at the back of the room. It might have been his imagination, but he could almost see moonlight glinting on mobsters’ white purge masks. He drew the curtains. “Let’s just hit the sack,” he said to the other kids.

They were in for a rude awakening.

Chapter II – Broke In

The kids awoke to the sound of shattering glass. Stephanie sat bolt upright and screamed. She fell out of her bed and rolled underneath it, still clutching her teddy.

A mobster had smashed the only window in the room with his crowbar and was now climbing inside. The other three kids jumped up and scrambled away from him. He planted his shiny black shoes on the floor, brushed some glass shards off his tuxedo, and brandished his crowbar at the kids, laughing.

“G’day, cunts,” he greeted them, tipping his fedora at them wryly. He started towards them.

It was only one guy. The kids whirled around, searching for something to defend themselves with. There was nothing except for Prince’s baseball bat… but it was still in the suitcase. Monica ran to the front of the room and shoved the bag flat onto the floor. She started to unzip it.

Meanwhile, the mobster raised his crowbar to bash Prince’s brains in, but Hadrian had skirted around until he was behind the guy. He kicked the back of his leg. The thug folded, eliciting a giggle from the boy, but it was promptly cut short as the mobster shot to his feet and grabbed him around the throat. “Little shit.” He lifted his crowbar again as he throttled Hadrian with one hand.

Monica had the suitcase open. She dug through it, throwing the clothes aside until she found Prince’s chrome baseball bat. She tossed it to him.

Prince caught the bat and turned to the mobster again. “Get away from Hadrian, you asshole!” he yelled as he swung as hard as he could.

There was a sharp ding as the bat connected head-on with the side of the mafioso’s skull. His head was jerked to the side by the impact. He released Hadrian and crumpled to the ground, barely conscious.

Monica rushed towards Hadrian and hugged him. “Are you OK?” she asked, fussing over her younger brother.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m fine,” Hadrian replied as he pushed her away, but his voice was wavering a little. He rubbed his neck. The mobster’s grip had left a red mark around it.

Stephanie finally crawled out from under her bed. “What do we do now?” she whispered, staring wide-eyed at the insensible mafioso.

Prince walked over to him cautiously. “We should… uh…”

He didn’t want to kill a guy in front of two young kids. Certainly not his own siblings. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to kill anyone at all. His eyes fell upon the broken window.

“We should… just push him back out through the window. Yeah. It’s not that far to the ground. He’ll be fine,” finished Prince hesitantly. He grabbed the mobster’s feet. Monica grabbed him under the arms. They hauled his nearly unconscious body to the window.

They draped the mobster over the windowsill. Prince gave him a little push. He slid out rather gently and grunted in pain as he hit the ground outside. Now he was really knocked out.

Prince and Monica took a peek over the sill. He was already surrounded by a few of his fellow mafiosos. They glanced up at the teenagers, faces unreadable through their masks. They started to drag their unconscious accomplice into the shadows, where Prince spied his own car. The hood was open. The engine was gone. Looked like they wouldn’t be leaving this place anytime soon.

“Shit. We need to do something before they come back,” whispered Prince, pulling away from the window.

Monica squinted as she looked around the bedroom. She opened the door to the walk-in closet. “There’re some wood planks in here. Maybe we can board up the window…?” she suggested.

“We can board up all the windows,” Prince told her… “except for this one,” he added, nodding at the broken pane. “We’ll use that to see outside.” He retrieved some tools from the suitcase. Monica had told him to leave them behind when they’d moved out of their parents’ house—they were heavy—but now she was glad that he’d packed them anyway.

Prince dragged the planks out of the closet and left them in a pile. He picked up a hammer and went to nail one of the boards over a window at the end of the hall. He swore as he hit his thumb. “Fuck.” The sun was peeking over the horizon, but it was still barely light enough to see.

Monica and Hadrian started boarding up the other windows. They spent all day securing the place, and it was dark again before they knew it. They were all making a lot of noise, but there was nothing they could do about that.

Unfortunately for them, the sound attracted some unwanted attention.

“This was a shit idea.” Hadrian glanced through the gaps in the boarded window. There were more than a few eyes glinting in the darkness outside, glaring at them. “Now they know we’re in here,” he told Prince.

“They already knew we were in here, dumbass. A purger broke through the window and tried to kill us, remember?”

“Oh… yeah. I guess you’re right.”

With all the windows boarded up, there was nothing to do except meander around the house. Hadrian went to the living room and thought about turning the TV on, but he wasn’t in the mood.

He looked at the leftover pizza on the coffee table. He was hungry, but it had been sitting out all night. The power was still gone. The refrigerator was useless.

Hadrian sighed. No eating today.

As he reentered the foyer, Hadrian heard a scratching noise coming from the other side of the basement door. He panicked initially, but when he listened closer… was that mewling?

Hadrian stepped closer. He put a hand on the doorknob and opened the basement door, but only a little. An orange tabby cat slunk through the gap.

“Have you been in there the whole time?” Hadrian questioned, staring at the cat in disbelief. He reached down to pet it, but the cat batted his hand away and hissed. It ran past him and darted through the gap between Prince’s legs—he’d been watching from behind.

The cat jumped up onto a cabinet in the foyer and stared at Hadrian disdainfully. “Tch. Cats are lame anyway,” he muttered as he shut the basement door again. “Wait… Prince, do you hear that?”

There was a strange noise outside. Tires screeched along asphalt to a standstill. There was a loud electrical bang as a pair of headlamps were abruptly switched on outside, flooding the living room with a bright light.

A van had pulled in front of the house, facing them and shining its headlights into the room. Six mobsters got out and stared at the house silently. One of them made eye contact with Prince as he peered through the boarded window. The teenager backed away. He beckoned Hadrian to follow him upstairs.

“Prince? What’s happening?” Monica asked when she saw him.

“More gangsters. Six.” Prince paused as he looked outside again. “They’re just standing there…”

Prince’s brow furrowed in thought. It felt like ages before he spoke again. “I’m staying awake tonight. The rest of you sleep,” he told everyone as he picked up his bat and paced around the room. “I’ll wake you up if something happens.”

“Prince, are you sure? We should sleep in shifts,” offered Monica.

“No. It’s fine,” the eldest refused, waving the suggestion away.

Everyone else got into bed, but Prince walked over to the broken bedroom window again. The mobsters were still staring at the house intently. He stared back, determined. It was going to be another long night.

Chapter III – Tick Tock

It was dead silent. Light from the mobster van’s headlamps was still streaming into the house, but they hadn’t tried to get inside. Prince leaned against the wall, nodding off with his baseball bat in hand. He’d been awake for hours. His eyes began to close.

The sound of glass breaking pierced the night once again. Prince snapped to attention. He heard wood splinter and nails clink against the floor as the mafiosos pried the boards off a window downstairs. He opened his mouth, about to shout for the other kids to wake up, but he instead decided to shake them awake instead. They’d lose the element of surprise if the mobsters figured out they weren’t sleeping.

“Monica, wake up,” Prince hissed, shaking Monica in her bed. Her eyes snapped open.

“What? Did they break in?” Monica asked. She rolled out of bed hurriedly and grabbed Stephanie, dragging her off her bed as well. “Steph, we have to get up. There’re more bad guys.”

“They’re downstairs. Maybe we can get the jump on them,” Prince whispered as he shook Hadrian awake as well. He hesitated before pointing to the hammers they’d discarded after fortifying the house. “Grab one,” he said to Monica and Hadrian. He didn’t want to kill anyone… but these mobsters weren’t leaving them with many options.

Prince grimaced as Monica picked up a hammer. “Actually… Monica, you take my bat. I’ll use a hammer,” he decided.

“Huh? Why?” Monica wondered.

Prince shrugged. “I don’t want you to have to kill anyone,” he admitted.

Monica shot him a look. “I’ll be fine, Prince. Worry about yourself.”

There were footsteps below. The mob was inside. Prince motioned for everyone to follow him.

The mafiosos ascended the stairs. They slunk down the hall. The one at the front reached out to push the door open, hoping to attack a few feckless civilians in their sleep… but he saw nobody.

The door behind them opened instead. Monica buried her hammer in the nearest mobster’s cranium, then wrenched it out. Blood spattered against the wall next to his head, and then he fell onto the carpet with a soft thump, dead. The other mafiosos whipped around at the noise.

Five left.

Monica was clutching the hammer to her chest now, wide-eyed and shaking a little bit at what she had just done, so Hadrian pushed his way past her before the mobsters figured out what was happening. He swung his own hammer at the closest one. The mafioso had no time to raise his crowbar as Hadrian struck him in the forehead, cracking his purge mask. He slumped to the ground as well, knocked out.

Four.

Prince jumped out of the wardrobe and rushed out of the bedroom while the mobsters were facing away from it. One of them bashed his crowbar into Hadrian’s chest, who stumbled backwards, wheezing. Prince managed to strike the side of the aggressor’s head. It bounced off the wall next to him. He heard something break. Maybe the drywall. Maybe his skull.

Three.

Another mobster rushed Prince. He swiftly retreated into the bedroom until he was standing at the broken window. The mobster followed. As he lunged with his crowbar, Prince sidestepped and took the chance to grab the mafioso, hurling him through the window. He landed on the concrete with a sickening crunch and didn’t get up.

Two.

Monica came to her senses. It was just in time, too, because Hadrian was about to be ganged up on by the remaining invaders. Prince came out of the bedroom. “You go left. I go right,” he whispered to Monica. She nodded.

One of the mafiosos lashed out at Hadrian with his crowbar. He raised his weapon to defend himself, but the hammer was too small to block anything. Hadrian yelped as his forearm took the hit. He dropped his weapon as Monica brained the offending mobster.

One.

Prince raised his bat high above his head at the same time and brought it down on top of the other mafioso’s head.

Zero.

The kids stood in silence for a while, breathing heavily. They didn’t hear anyone else in the house. After a minute, Monica spoke.

“Steph, you can come out now,” she said. Stephanie emerged from the guest bedroom wordlessly and clung to her sister’s leg. Monica took Hadrian’s wounded forearm and prodded at the injury. He winced.

“I don’t feel a break. Maybe it’s just cracked. I left my first aid kit in the car,” Monica admitted nervously. She knew it wasn’t safe to go outside right now.

Prince pondered. “We can check the basement first. Maybe Pete left something useful in there,” he advised. He retrieved the flashlight from the bedside table and switched it on as the kids moved down to the first floor. They walked past the window that the mobsters had entered through. Wooden planks and shards of glass lay on the carpet. It crunched under their shoes as they stepped over it.

“Didn’t you leave this closed?” Prince asked Hadrian as he came to the basement, shining his light inside. The door was ajar. He quickly realized what a stupid idea it was to point the flashlight into it. There was a chance someone was lurking there. He turned it off.

Hadrian started backing away. “Yeah, I did… I think?” he whispered.

There were footsteps again. Loud ones.

“Shit,” said Prince.

Hadrian hesitated. “Wait, I think it’s just one guy. We could take him.” Indeed, only one pair of feet could be heard, and yet, the floor shook as the basement dweller began to climb the stairs.

“No! That guy sounds huge! Hide!” Prince whispered harshly, pulling Hadrian—who winced again as his forearm was jostled—along with him. They and the girls ran away from the basement door as silently as they could.

Prince put his hand on the sill of the broken window, about to jump outside, but he saw too many masked men in the shadows. He doubled back and whirled around, searching for somewhere to hide. There was only the storage cabinet in the kitchen. All four of them squeezed in. It was a tight fit. They almost couldn’t breathe, but they all froze as the trespasser reached the top of the basement stairs. Prince peered through the thin gap between the cabinet doors. The guy was so tall that he needed to duck underneath the doorframe. There was a faint ticking noise emanating from him.

The ground quaked with every step Larry Clockturn took. His golden LED eyes lit up in the dark. The glow glinted off of the violet mask on his eyes. He was far more daunting in person. As he walked near the shattered window, the moonlight illuminated his tarnished metal face and the steel wires that served as his beard.

He passed the open kitchen door. Monica saw a large wind-up key affixed to his back. I told you he was an automaton, she wanted to whisper, but this wasn’t a good time.

The mob boss walked past the kitchen and out of sight, but the kids heard his footsteps move to the stairwell. The first stair, decayed with age, splintered and caved under his weight. Larry cursed and swung his crowbar at the wall in anger, annihilating the plasterboard. He tried the second step. It groaned under his mass, but it held this time. He made his way to the second floor.

Prince hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath, but now he was almost gasping for air as he pushed the cabinet doors open and darted towards the basement. The other kids ran after him.

He swore internally as he almost tripped on the first step. It was still dark in there. He turned on the flashlight just long enough to make it to the bottom.

It was chilly. The kids huddled together in the darkness.

“H-he knows we’re still in the house,” stammered Monica, voice shaking. “He was here when you shined the flashlight in the first time. He had to have seen it. What are we going to do?”

Prince said nothing. He was out of ideas. All they could do was shut up and hope Larry didn’t think to come back here.

But the mechanical ticking returned. Larry did come back.

The automaton’s silhouette appeared at the top of the stairwell. The light from his eyes, still glowing golden in the dark, faintly illuminated his face.

There was a tinny creak as Larry tilted his head, staring into the basement. It was pitch black inside. Maybe he couldn’t see them, the kids thought.

Larry’s lips parted into a malicious grin. Prince flinched in surprise. He hadn’t realized the mob boss could emote with his metal features… but he didn’t come inside. Instead, he turned from the basement door and walked away, his steel exterior clanking as he moved.

There was a loud crack as Larry forced the front door open instead of leaving through the window he’d broken.

“What an asshole,” Prince grumbled.

Monica touched Prince’s arm. “Why didn’t he come inside?” she wondered.

Prince shrugged. He didn’t know either.

“Maybe he’s playing with us.”

It wasn’t a comforting idea, but they didn’t hear Larry’s footsteps anymore, so…

“Turn the flashlight on. We have to search this place,” Monica told Prince. He did.

The shelves were cluttered with supplies and knickknacks Uncle Pete had left behind. Pete, Prince suddenly remembered. He hoped the guy was alright, but there was nothing he could do for his uncle right now.

A good portion of the items were littered across the floor as well. Larry and his mobsters had trashed the place. Prince swept the flashlight across the ground.

“There.”

He pointed to a discarded first aid kit.

Monica picked it up. “Thought we’d never catch a break.” she took a broken piece of shelf as well and assembled a makeshift splint for Hadrian’s forearm. It wasn’t pretty, but it would hold until they figured out how to get to a hospital.

In the meantime, Prince perched the flashlight on a shelf to rummage through some carboard boxes. “Oh my god. Finally,” he exclaimed as he pulled out a bag of cheese puffs from one of them. The box was full of junk food, but it felt like the kids had struck gold after having nothing to eat for a day and a half. They gorged themselves, but once they were full, they were unsure of what to do next.

Prince looked pensive. “We can’t stay down here,” he eventually said. They had no clue how long the purge was going to last, and they couldn’t subsist on their meager supply of junk food for long.

Monica didn’t say anything at first. Prince was right, but the streets were still teeming with every kind of criminal.

She had an idea.

Chapter IV – Delivery

“This is dumb as hell.”

“Just put it on,” urged Monica.

Prince finished buttoning up the tuxedo. He pulled the purge mask over his face.

They’d swiped the disguise off of a dead purger they’d left upstairs. Monica reached for the second mask that they’d looted, but Prince stopped her.

“Nope. You’re staying here,” he told her.

“You serious? You can’t go out there alone.”

“Yes the fuck I can. Besides, someone needs to stay with those two.” Prince motioned to Stephanie’s tiny form and Hadrian with his arm in a splint.

Monica sighed. “Fine… be careful.”

Prince picked up one of the dead mobsters’ crowbars. Monica took a step back and looked him up and down. “I think it’ll work. Just act casual,” she said.

 After peering outside, Prince grabbed the windowsill and vaulted over it. The mobsters lurking nearby didn’t even glance at him twice.

 The nearest convenience store was just up the road. Prince could see it from here, but as he started walking, his shoe slid on the ice beneath him. He almost fell. The wet asphalt had frozen overnight.

There was a loud guffaw from a group of mafiosos passing him by, but then one of them slipped on the ice as well and fell on his face. The other gangsters laughed even louder. “Man, shut y’all’s asses!” he hollered at them.

Prince had frozen in place for a few seconds, almost thinking he’d blown his cover, but he quickly regained his bearings. He left the gangsters to bicker amongst themselves. They seemed a lot less menacing when they weren’t trying to kill him.

As he continued towards the convenience store, Prince passed by the house of one of his neighbors. Of course, he hadn’t had a chance to meet them yet, but he still wondered if they were doing alright.

There was an earsplitting scream from inside the house, then a gunshot. The distant voice of a mobster reached Prince’s ears. “Aww, come on! I was gonna play with her first!”

Prince scrunched his face up in disgust under his mask. Nevermind. Fuck these guys.

He made it to the convenience store. The place had been nearly bled dry, but there was some fruit left in the produce crates. Prince opened the sack that he’d taken with him. He reached for an apple.

There were two mobsters sitting on the counter nearby. They turned their heads towards Prince. They were masked, but he could feel them giving him an odd look. He faltered, then grabbed the edge of the fruit crate, tipping the entirety of its contents into his sack. The mobsters looked away, losing interest.

Phew. Prince threw the sack over his shoulder and almost ran back to the house.

Monica met him at the basement door. Panic flashed through her mind until she realized it was Prince. “What did you get?” she asked as they returned to the basement.

“Fruit.”

“Lame,” said Stephanie.

Prince took his mask off and shoved an apple into her tiny hands. “No, it isn’t. You need it after eating all that junk food.” He didn’t notice the sound of a motorcycle pulling up to the front of the house.

There was commotion in the kitchen upstairs. Utensils and cookware clattered against the floor tiles.

Prince foisted his crowbar over his shoulder as he turned to the stairs. “I gotta say, I’m getting real tired of this shit,” he muttered to Monica before he returned to the ground floor.

As he reached the top of the staircase, he hesitated. This dude was kinda big, he thought as he scrutinized the person wrecking his kitchen. There was no time for Prince to change his mind, though—the mobster saw him.

“There you are.”

He sounded vaguely familiar, but Prince had no time to muse as the guy charged at him.

Prince responded in kind. He rushed at the mobster and raised his own crowbar to block the blow. There was a sharp clang as their weapons met.

It was almost like a sword duel, though not nearly as graceful. Prince was no trained fighter, but neither was the mafioso, apparently. He accidentally hooked a vase with his crowbar, sending it shattering against the floor. The opponents staggered around the foyer, neither of them gaining the upper hand at first

The mobster couldn’t get a hit in. He grew impatient and lunged forward. He swung too wide. Prince backpedaled away from the strike, and now, for an instant, his foe was wide open.

Prince delivered an uppercut to the mafioso’s face with his crowbar. The force of the strike knocked his mask askew.

The mafioso collapsed to the ground heavily, dazed and confused. “Ugh…”

Alright, Prince had absolutely met this guy before. He reached down and pulled the guy’s mask all the way off.

Prince stared.

“Dude, are you fucking kidding me?”

It was the pizza guy from a couple days ago. He sat up gingerly, rubbing his chin, and spat a glob of blood onto the carpet. “Shouldn’t have fuckin’ stiffed me, you asshole!”

Prince threw his arms up in exasperation, still gripping his crowbar. “I told you I didn’t have any more money! And you come into my house and trash the place over it? What is your problem?”

The delivery guy eyed Prince’s crowbar. He straightened his bowtie as he spoke. “OK, don’t be like that, man. A guy paid me to do it. You’re not the only one hurting for cash,” he said, pointing his finger at the boy. “The big metal dude,” he continued. “I’ve been running with the mafia for a while now, but this morning he shoved a crisp hundred into my hand and told me to come in here. Take you guys out. And, uh, he looked like he was gonna kill my ass if I said no, so… here I am, I guess.”

Prince glared at him for a moment. “Man, just get the hell out,” he said, pointing his crowbar at the open door.

The pizza guy looked outside. “Uh… actually, I think I’m gonna chill in here for a while.”

“Excuse me? No, you are not. You just tried to kill me,” Prince snapped.

The guy held up his hands in surrender. “The big guy is gonna fillet me like a fish when he finds out I didn’t get rid of you guys! I’m not going back out there,” he said. “Besides, he paid me in advance, man. I ain’t gotta do shit no more.”

Prince mulled it over. This guy wouldn’t get out of his house, but Prince definitely didn’t want to kill him, either.

“Whatever. Fine. What should I call you?” he asked.

The pizza guy stood up unsteadily. “Isaiah.”

 “OK, Isaiah, you said you’ve been running with the mob for a while. Any clue how we might get away from here without dying?” Prince asked.

Isaiah deliberated for a moment.

“The sewers. The mafia normally uses it to move around the city, but It’s empty now that they’re on the streets…” He paused again as he formulated a plan. “I overheard a li’l bit of intel. The national guard made it to 5th Street. We head in that direction. Get behind their lines, where it’s safe. Then we can exit the sewer. No sweat.”

Prince didn’t have any better ideas. “Fine. Get in here, man. Leave the crowbar,” he warned Isaiah as the ruffian reached for his fallen weapon. “No funny shit.”

“I wasn’t going to do shit,” he muttered as they descended into the basement.

The other three kids drew back suspiciously as they saw Isaiah. “Prince? Who is that?”

“He’s the pizza delivery guy,” Prince replied. “From the day we moved in, I mean. He’s…”

Prince gave Isaiah the side-eye.

“He’s chill,” he decided. “And he told me how we can get out of here. We’ll walk through the sewers until we meet the national guard.”

The other kids glanced at each other. “Unless you guys would rather stay here…?” Prince added. They all heard a bout of submachine gunfire in the house across the street.

“Nope. Let’s get out of here,” Monica said. “Tomorrow morning?”

Isaiah raised an eyebrow. “Why are we waiting?”

“It’s midnight. We gotta get some sleep,” Prince said.

Isaiah’s eyebrows crept even higher. “You guys have been sleeping at night this whole time? You can’t be doing that shit during the killing purge! How are you people still alive?”

The kids murmured inaudibly. They didn’t really know, either.

Isaiah shook his head incredulously. “Whatever. I don’t know where you got that disguise, Prince, but there had better be more. Your buddies will get jumped in no time if they go out looking like that,” he said.

Prince retrieved some more suits and a couple of crowbars from the dead mobsters upstairs. The second floor was starting to smell really bad. He was glad they were leaving soon.

The disguises were a little ill-fitting on Monica and Hadrian, but Stephanie wasn’t going to be able to wear one at all.

“What are you going to do about her?” Isaiah asked.

Prince scratched his head as he thought. “I saw a manhole cover real close by. We’ll just have her walk in the middle of us ‘til we make it into the sewer.”

“If you say so.”

The group stepped out. Stephanie stood in the middle of the bunch, hopefully obscuring her from the mobsters’ sight.

They had almost made it to the manhole cover when they heard a crash in the distance. A shrill alarm pierced their ears. Someone had smashed one of the convenience store’s windows open and set it off. The group turned to see who was responsible.

They saw a shape with glowing eyes through the glass door of the store as he strode into view. Larry downed a can of cola before crushing it in his hand and throwing it aside. He turned to look at the street.

The automaton looked blasé as he surveyed the darkened neighborhood, but his expression shifted to one of suspicion as his eyes fell on the group. Then he looked furious.

Their disguises hadn’t fooled him. Larry kicked the door open and started towards the group.

“God fucking damn it!” roared Isaiah as he hauled the manhole cover off the ground and thrust it aside.

“Get in!”

Chapter V – Clockturn

Everyone clambered down the ladder and into the sewer.

Stephanie held her nose. “It smells really bad in here.”

Something heavy tumbled into the manhole after them, landing on Prince’s head. “Ow! What the hell?” he exclaimed.

It was the same cat that had come out of the basement earlier, and it started yowling as Prince pried it off his scalp.

“Guys, he’s coming! Fucking run!” Isaiah shouted at the group. He’d broken into a sprint as soon as his feet touched the floor. “And shut that cat up! It’s gonna give our location away.”

Prince set the cat on the ground. Thankfully, it stopped screeching, but it did follow them.

The kids raced after Isaiah. “Do you know where you’re going?” Prince panted.

“Yeah, I’ve been down here before. Just stay behind me,” Isaiah assured him. “Take this right!”

As they rounded the corner, Monica risked a glimpse behind her. The concrete ground fractured beneath Larry as he jumped into the manhole after them.

The corridors twisted and turned as Isaiah led everyone further into the sewers. He barreled through iron gates in their path. Some of the paths had collapsed and been replaced by flimsy timber.

Hadrian stumbled. A board slipped out from under him. He was about to fall into the fetid sewage, but Prince reached to fish him out.

Isaiah got there before him. Hadrian’s shoe had just touched the water when the mafioso forcefully pulled him back onto the walkway.

“Hey, be careful! His arm is hurt!” scolded Monica. Isaiah simply jabbed his finger at Hadrian’s foot.

Hadrian wiggled his toes. The tip of his shoe was gone.

“I forgot to let you guys know. I saw some other mobsters pouring something into the storm drains,” Isaiah explained as he continued to run. “Whatever it was, it was corrosive as hell, ‘cause the drain stared melting. Don’t fall in there,” he finished, pointing at the water channel.

Isaiah veered left into a round clearing in the sewer. He came face to face with another gate, but he almost bashed his head into it as it refused to open. The kids skidded to a stop as he grabbed the bars and rattled the door. “This wasn’t locked before!” he shouted in frustration.

The mobster wedged his crowbar through the edge of the gate and tried to pry it open, but it wouldn’t budge. The kids glanced at each other anxiously. “Maybe Larry doesn’t know where we went,” Monica whispered.

No such luck.

They heard the ticking of his cogs before they saw him.

Larry rounded the corner. He was moving at a leisurely pace, but his footsteps were still fairly thunderous as he strolled across the improvised wooden bridge.

The automaton came to a halt as he reached the other side of the walkway. The kids could only stare at him. He was blocking their only escape.

Larry put a hand on his crowbar, leaning on it like a cane. He ran a hand through his wiry beard. His LED eyes swiveled as he looked the group over.

A lanky delivery boy, down on his luck.

Some high school dropout with a hero complex and his doormat of a sister.

A kid with a broken arm. His youngest sibling, hugging her teddy bear to her chest.

Larry laughed to himself and booted the wooden board behind him. There was a low sizzle as it fell into the waterway and began to disintegrate. The kids were trapped. His gaze shifted back to the group.

“What do you think you’re doing, Isaiah?” said Larry in his metallic peal.

His voice sent a chill up the kids’ spines. It was sonorous and hollow, filling the entire corridor.

Isaiah didn’t reply. He only yanked his crowbar out of the still-locked gate. It was futile. He walked to the front of the group.

If Isaiah wouldn’t talk, Larry would. “It’s not too late for you to follow orders, young man. Get rid of them.”

Isaiah didn’t move.

The crime lord raised an eyebrow. “Interesting decision.” Larry lifted his crowbar with one hand and rested it over his shoulder as he advanced on Isaiah.

“Hold on, boss, I-”

Isaiah cut himself off as Larry swung his crowbar. The mobster managed to duck under the blow so that it connected with the wall instead. The stone bricks cracked under Larry’s strength.

There was no reasoning with this guy.

No one knew how they were going to take Larry down, but he couldn’t go after all of them at once. Everyone scattered across the room, but the littlest was too slow.

Larry grinned as he reached down and snatched Stephanie by her tiny arm.

“No!” cried Prince. He rushed towards the automaton.

The cat was quicker. Prince had almost forgotten it was there, but it leapt onto Larry’s face, scratching and hissing. He cursed and released Stephanie. Prince pulled her away and swept her into his arms as the mob boss reached for the feline instead.

Its claws did nothing except piss Larry off. He ripped the cat off his face and flung it aside as he straightened his tie. It hit the wall before sliding to the floor and going limp, still mewling pitifully.

Stephanie normally would have begun crying by now, but she must have known it was no use this time. She gazed down at the teddy bear in her hands. It was the only toy she’d been able to take with her when the siblings had left their parents. Its voice box didn’t work anymore, but she turned it over and looked at the pull-string attached to it. She looked up at the golden wind-up key on Larry’s back. Still in Prince’s arms, she reached for it.

Stephanie twisted the wind-up key counterclockwise with all her diminutive might while Larry’s back was still turned. A steely bang sounded from inside him, followed closely by the jarring noise of an engine backfiring. The automaton flinched violently. He nearly toppled over, but he caught himself and whirled around, lunging with his crowbar furiously as he did. Prince backpedaled hurriedly, but the very edge of the crowbar just barely caught Stephanie’s cheek, ripping off a layer of skin.

“Bastard!” roared Prince. He set Stephanie down behind him. She ran into her sister’s arms. Monica steered her over to Hadrian before she went to confront their aggressor.

The group had figured out Larry’s weak point, and now he was a lot more wary. Prince, Isaiah, and Monica circled around him, but he’d turn and lunge again whenever one of them took so much as a step towards him. The three comrades glanced at each other. They all knew one of them had to engage the automaton while another tried to reach his key, but none of them particularly wanted to be stomped into red paste.

Before anyone grew audacious enough to rush Larry, the kids heard yet another odd noise. There was a resonant clang as the automaton’s steel plates snapped apart along the seams. A deafening mechanical whirr filled the sewer. All of a sudden, there was a cyclone of buzzsaws where he’d been standing a second ago.

Larry charged at Prince, who had to dive out of the way to avoid being sliced to gory ribbons.

Blood sprayed against the stone brick wall. Prince cried out as he hit the cold floor. He’d been too slow. The blades had caught him anyway. Fortunately, his arm was still attached, but there were several deep lacerations. Larry had sliced him all the way to the bone.

A pool of red bloomed under Prince as he collapsed. Monica rushed over to where she’d dropped her first aid kit. With wounds like that, he was going to bleed to death if she didn’t do something, but she couldn’t get near Prince while Larry was standing between them.

The automaton’s buzzsaws ground to a stop and clicked back into his casing. His plates snapped shut again as he stood above Prince.

Larry had his back to Hadrian now. He was so close. He had to do something. Hadrian ripped the splint off his own arm. He knew he was probably about to make his injury worse, but that was far better than dying here.

As Larry raised his crowbar to finish Prince off, he felt a pair of hands on his wind-up key.

Hadrian turned the key counterclockwise. Larry grunted in pain again as even more of his gears jammed, but he swung his weapon behind himself immediately this time.

Hadrian reeled as the crowbar struck his torso. He gasped for breath as he hit the concrete. Great. Now he had both a cracked forearm and a cracked rib cage. Larry turned away from Prince, heading for Hadrian instead.

Monica bolted to Prince’s side and started tying a torniquet around his bleeding arm. As she tended to him, Isaiah stepped in between Larry and Hadrian.

Larry narrowed his eyes. “Get the fuck outta the way, kid.”

Isaiah didn’t.

Larry scoffed and brought his crowbar down upon Isaiah with one hand. Isaiah gripped his own weapon as hard as he could with both hands and held it up to shield himself.

Their weapons clashed. Isaiah staggered, but he managed to remain on his feet. His crowbar vibrated in his hands with the aftershock of Larry’s blow, but he maintained his grip on it.

Larry raised his eyebrows, mildly surprised. Perhaps Isaiah wasn’t as lanky as he’d thought. He shook his head at the mobster.

“Little shit. I gave you a job when you were about to be homeless, and this is how you repay me?”

Larry attacked again, grasping his crowbar with both hands now. Isaiah did lose his weapon this time. It skittered across the concrete and into the corrosive water.

Monica sprang for Larry’s wind-up key. He swung his crowbar into her face without looking at her. She flew back and hit the ground, unconscious. Prince dragged himself towards her. He was starting to become lightheaded from the blood loss.

Larry swung again. With nothing to guard himself with, Isaiah took the hit squarely in the chest. He crumpled to the floor, winded.

The automaton circled him. He gave the mafioso a kick in the ribs with his steel-toed shoe.

“Come on. Is that all you can take?”

Isaiah choked out a couple of choice words. “Fuck… yourself…”

Larry scowled and opened his mouth to speak, but the cat hauled itself from the stone floor and launched itself at his face again, caterwauling and clawing with renewed fervor.

That was all Prince needed. He scrambled to his feet and leapt at Larry’s key. He grabbed it with his uninjured arm and wrenched it counterclockwise one more time.

Something rattled inside the automaton. His gears shuddered to a halt. There was a hiss as steam escaped from the vents on his face. His glowing golden eyes blinked off.

Larry lurched forwards and hit the ground with a crash, deactivated.

Epilogue

Prince opened his eyes blearily. He instantly shut them again. The lights were unpleasantly bright. He tried to shield his face, but the ensuing jolt of pain jarred him fully awake. Oh, right. He’d taken a buzzsaw to the arm.

He used his other arm to cover his eyes as he opened them. Prince was lying in a hospital bed.

“How’s it going, man?” said a voice from the left.

The boy turned his head. Isaiah was in the next bed.

“Is everyone else alright?” Prince rasped.

“Yeah, looks like it. Hadrian and Monica are right over there,” Isaiah told him, gesturing with his head to his left. “And there’s the li’l one,” he added.

Prince looked at the bed across from him. Stephanie was clambering down. She ran over to Prince and grabbed his hand, bouncing excitedly. “You’re OK!” she exclaimed.

“Hey, Steph. Ow. Don’t do that,” Prince croaked as Stephanie jostled his bandaged arm, but he was smiling. “How did we get here?”

Isaiah let his head fall back onto his pillow, brow furrowed in thought. “Uh. You beat the big dude. Or disabled him, at least. I don’t know. You passed out right after, and then… I think I heard Stephanie crying for a while. Someone above us heard it, too. They lowered a ladder into the sewer. Yeah, there was another manhole above us, apparently, but no ladder attached. Hah,” Isaiah laughed shortly. “They thought we were mafiosos at first, but I guess they figured out we weren’t when they saw Larry on the ground. And then they brought us here.”

The hinges on the hospital door squealed as a nurse walked in. “Oh! Some of you are awake,” she observed. “Don’t disturb your big bro right now, young lady. He’s going to need a lot of rest,” the nurse told Stephanie as she carried her back over to her own hospital bed.

“As for you…” the nurse examined her clipboard. “Prince Aguilar? Emancipated minor…” she read. “I’ve been told that you got into a fight with Larry Clockturn. You’re all lucky to be alive.”

“You ain’t lying,” Isaiah muttered. The nurse shot him a look.

“You should all be fine once we’re done patching you up,” the nurse continued. “But…” She checked her clipboard again. “Monica Aguilar appears to have taken quite the blow to the head. We’re monitoring her, but we aren’t going to be able to assess if there’s any brain damage until she wakes up.”

Prince sat up. “Brain damage?”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry. We would be able to tell by now if it was serious,” the nurse assured Prince, urging him back down onto the bed. “At most, she has a concussion. She’ll be alright.”

Prince lay down again gingerly. “OK… I guess.” He was silent for a moment… but he was also curious.

“What happened to Larry?”

“Larry Clockturn? The police are handling that. They haven’t given me many details, I’m afraid,” the nurse told Prince. “All I know is that they haven’t moved his body yet. And the so-called ‘purge’ is over, by the way. Most of the mafia turned tail and ran after they figured out Clockturn was gone,” she laughed. “National guard didn’t encounter much resistance after that.”

Prince didn’t ask anything else. It was the nurse’s turn, now.

“It says here that four of you are siblings. Prince, Monica, Hadrian, and Stephanie Aguilar. And Isaiah… Smith,” she said, walking over to Isaiah’s bed. “It is to my understanding that you are affiliated with the mafia.”

Isaiah’s eyes widened. “Uh, I mean, like-“

The nurse held up her hand to stop him. “I’m not a police officer, but don’t be surprised if they come in here to question you guys at some point. I just wanted to warn you about it, so you aren’t blindsided,” she explained.

“Yeah… yeah, OK. Cool,” said Isaiah, even though it was not at all cool.

The nurse nodded. “Well, that’s it for now,” she said as she turned to leave. “Just sit tight. The doctor will be along soon.”

Prince took a deep breath. Larry was deactivated. They were out of the sewers. The purge was over. They were in a hospital at last. Everything was fine again.

In the sewers, however, things were not so fine. Police tape lined the walls of the room Larry had collapsed in, cold and unmoving. Officers surrounded him.

One of them looked up at the manhole high above them. “We could airlift him…?”

“Through that tiny opening? I’m not so sure,” his Lieutenant responded. No one was certain about how they were going to get this colossus out of the sewer and into police custody.

“We might have to move him all the way through the tunnel. Into the nearest water-”

The officer was cut off and his head jerked back as a bullet pierced the middle of his forehead.

The other cops drew their service weapons. The round had come from the other side of the locked iron gate. They returned fire. So did their assailants.

There was no cover in the room. More officers dropped dead. One of them tried to speak into his radio. “Shots fired. All units to the 5th-”

He was shot dead as well before he could finish.

The Lieutenant glimpsed something through the metal bars of the gate. Something green and glowing. He fired reflexively. The round ricocheted off metal. He stared into the darkness, confused, but there was no time to ponder as bullets continued to whizz past his ears.

“We’re taking too many casualties! Fall back!” yelled the Lieutenant.

The remaining officers ran from the gate and disappeared around the bend of the tunnel, leaving Larry’s body behind.

The mobsters lowered their guns. Their leader, who had been watching from the back of the troupe, made her way to the iron gate. Her high heels clicked against the concrete. The sound echoed through the now-quiet passageway.

She towered above her cohorts. The lock on the gate broke easily as she raised her slender arm and forced it open with one hand.

The lady reached the felled automaton. She walked around his inert figure and clicked her tongue in disapproval.

“Take him,” she ordered.

The mobsters, with some difficulty, lifted him up and carried him into the small speedboat they’d used to traverse the sewer’s water channels. The motor roared to life.

As the helmsman steered them back to the river outside, he glanced at his boss. “We’re not gonna reactivate him, Miss Gearwise?”

“No,” she answered shortly.

“Then… what are you going to do with him?”

The lady’s icy gaze fell on Larry. The corners of her metallic green lips curved up into a small smirk.

“I have a few ideas.”

#break in 2 #break in roblox #roblox break in #scary larry #scary mary #roblox #snnizanzniA FUCK YOU MARY LEAVE HIM ALONE #did you really read this post all the way through or nah

[george-weasleys-girl]

Act Like You Mean It

Start here:

Chapter 5

Summary: Y/N takes a late night walk and runs into someone unexpected

Warnings: description of sexual assault, cursing

George Weasley x Fem!reader

~•~

The moon was high in the sky when Y/N finally gave up on sleep and went to sit by the window. There was once a time when she would've tiptoed downstairs and knocked on George's door.

"Can't sleep, love?" He'd ask.

"No," she'd tell him.

Then they would spend the next few hours talking by the fire or, if they were feeling adventurous, sneak down to the kitchen for a late night snack.

The memory punched her square in the chest, and her tears threatened to spill over for the millionth time in two weeks.

Godric, I'm so sick of crying. Why can't I just get over this? Over him?

The temptation to take Montcroix up on his offer was growing by the moment. Maybe that would help her get past everything. Or at least he'd be annoying enough to distract her for a while.

No. No, I'm being stupid. Even if it did help, the cure would be worse than the cause.

And yet, just imagining George's face as she passed him in the hall, hand in hand with Byron, gave her a certain vengeful satisfaction. George had hurt her. Deeply and irrevocably. She was not some plaything for him to use and then just toss to the wayside like a piece of garbage.

As much as she hated to admit it, the petty, childish part of her wanted nothing more than to get back at him.

Assuming he even cared...

He'd barely even glanced at her since the night he came looking for her after dinner.

Y/N sighed and wiped away the tears wetting her face, then stood and began getting dressed, grabbing her cloak on the way out. The temperature was near freezing, but she didn't care. She just needed to get out of this sweltering dorm room. Breathe the fresh air for a while and try to clear her head.

Maybe, if I'm really lucky, the frigid air will freeze my heart. Then I won't have to feel anything ever again.

~•~

A chill that had nothing to do with the cold trickled down Y/N's spine. She'd never ventured out alone at night. And now she understood why. Every creak, every shadow, every howl of the wind manifested itself in her mind as the spindly, twisted horrors that haunted her darkest nightmares.

So much for a relaxing, midnight stroll.

There were other ways to clear her head, she surmised, and turned back toward Gryffindor Tower, ignoring the imaginary footsteps behind her.

~•~

Y/N screamed at the hand landing on her shoulder and whirled around, her wand at the ready.

"Woah, woah," Montcroix's voice echoed off the stone walls.

"Damn it, Byron!" she rolled her eyes, lowering her wand. "You scared the shit out of me!"

He snickered. "Sorry 'bout that."

"I'm sure you are," she muttered and turned to go.

Montcroix strutted along beside her. "What are you doing wandering the halls all alone in the middle of the night?"

"Changing the configuration settings for NASA's satellites. Same old same old, you know how it is," she answered with a nonchalant air.

"What?" Montcroix stared at her.

Y/N almost burst out laughing at the look on his face. Being a pure-blood, Byron would never lower himself to learn about something so phlebian as muggle space exploration.

"Nevermind," she said. "What are you doing skulking around in the middle of the night?"

Byron shrugged. "A little birdie told me I might find someone interesting."

Now it was Y/N's turn to stare. It wasn't just what he said, but something about the way he said it that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh nothing," he winked.

Y/N swallowed hard and picked up her pace. The spindly, twisted nightmares now seemed downright cuddly in comparison to the hungry look in Montcroix's eyes.

"What's your hurry? Byron taunted.

Y/N said nothing and continued on, wondering if she could outrun him.

It was if he'd read her mind.

The next few seconds were a blur as he grabbed her, pinning her against the wall, one hand holding her wrists behind her back, and the other clamped across her mouth. She struggled against him, trying to wrench herself free, but any attempts to escape only resulted in his grip tightening around her wrists until she could no longer feel her hands.

"Aw, you're so cute when you try to fight back," Byron smirked. "Too bad your guard doggie isn't here to protect you. Word on the street is that he left you high and dry," he laughed. "So, maybe it's time for you to experience what a real man can do... "

Never in her life had Y/N been so thankful for Montcroix's arrogant preening. It gave her time to think about her options. Biting into his hand was one possibility. It'd certainly be easy, but it wouldn't stop him. No, she needed something more crippling, something that would incapacitate him long enough for her to get away.

"...now I'm going to remove my hand," he continued, bringing her full attention back to him. "And you're going to give me a kiss."

Y/N went completely still, letting her body go slack. Then she gave him a slow, deliberate nod.

"That's a good girl," he chuckled, letting his hand slide away. "Now, what does a good girl say?"

"Fuck you!" Y/N spat and hoped her aim was true.

~•~

Byron's eyes widened, his cocky malevolence melting into shock and agony as her knee slammed into his groin. He staggered backward, clutching himself. "You stupid, fucking bitch! You're going to pay for that," he groaned, looking around for her. But he was out of luck. Y/N had already vanished into the darkness.

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @xmjthewitchx @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @samberriejams @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @mrsgweasley @hufflepuffie @morally-grey-obsessed @fredweasleyyyyy @anvaaryn @lastwandastan @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @qmylovexoxo @planetkt @costheticbabe @drama-queen-fromthevault @thatonepersonwhocantwrite @smallsweetvanillabean @themaraudersslut @hanne-montana @greenapplegrass @el-de-phi @lizzytrees @scooby-doo1995 @phant0mkitsune @spididerman @yoursarahg @marvelgirlstories @theimpossible-girl-whowaited @ceehance @igncrantbliss @mchlist @adangerousbalance @thankyouforanonymity @mizu-soup @drama-queen-fromthevault @patriciamatezz @futureweasleywife @xluansstuff

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x you #george weasley angst #hp fandom #hp universe

[morganalatina21]

Manipulating Death: Chapter Five

Series Summary: When Harry discovers he has a twin sister that was hiding for years, he wants to know all about her, specially about her ability to bring people back to life.

A/n: as promised, first out of 3 in less than 24h...

(Also, english isn’t my first language so I’m sorry in advance lol)

Chapter One Two Three Fourth | Masterlist

*********************************************

She saw a large house with a beautiful garden separating it from the street, small black metal gate at the beginning of the path.

A large orange cat was pacing back and forth into a big bush, his tail up in the air and ears fluttering to the sides. His green eyes barely look in her direction as she made her way to the front door.

Opening it and stepping inside, she saw the happy family that lived there.

Well, part of it actually.

A small boy was sitting in front of a small coffee table at the living room, showing his three uncles the 200 pieces puzzle he just finished the night before. Two of them were kneeling down in his sides to watch as he explained every character present on the print, the other one sat at a chair and smiled at the boy.

From the kitchen, a tall man came with shoes that could only fit the kid.

"Hey Harry, let's doorbell ditch the neighborhood with your uncles?" He asked and threw the pair of shoes to his son.

The two sitting down with him celebrated and started getting up, hyping the experience.

"You guys are almost 40!" Harry mocked, however tying up the sneakers to join them.

"After 25 you start counting backwards, no one told you that kiddo?" The long-haired man asked, racing the shorter one to the door. They past her, not even noticing the girl.

"Uncle Moony isn't coming?"

"Someone needs to be our alibi, son." He answered, cleaning his glasses and offering the boy a hand, to which he took immediately.

"What's an alibi?"

From the same place the man came, a figure with bright red hair appeared, smiling gently and looked at the only one left.

"I swear to God if James teaches my son about committing crimes I'm gonna lose it."

"To be fair, he's going to Hogwarts in a few years so I'm sure he wants to give his son everything he knew about getting away with things." He replied, reclining softly.

"Getting away? You guys were on detention at least once a month when we were there." She questioned, sighing and sitting on the couch.

He shrugged, tired smile on his face. "You ever think about having another child?"

She held her breath and watched the woman, supposedly her mother, think about the question, lips twitching.

"I don't know. I love Harry profusely, but I don't think I can ever go through this again." Lily replied, patting her skirt and taking cat hair out of it. "Besides, two seem like a lot of trouble. Don't want another mini James running around making me go mad. But why do you ask?"

"Sirius and I have been talking about adoption for quite some time, and we visited this orphanage nearby. There are this twins there, I absolutely loved them." He whispered, looking at the door, hoping to see one of his friends barg in.

"Remus, that's awesome!" She complimented. "But to be honest, I wouldn't have twins. They're just a lot of work and they'll tire you in no time. Just see what Molly's been going through with her twins."

"Yeah maybe you're right."

At this point, she couldn't even breathe. The room was spinning and her ears were ringing like crazy, legs feeling numb. It felt like someone had just punched her throat, struggling to keep the tears from touching the cheek.

The doorbells in the distance from the three marauders and the kid punched her in the head, growing and increasing as time went by.

The girl woke up shaking, moving the shirt away from her throat to make sure nothing was stopping her from breathing.

That nightmare. Again.

It was a current dream, thinking her parents -no, scratch that-, that everyone's life would be better without her.

By far wasn't her worst nightmare, however it pinched right her insecurity.

Regulus twitched, feeling she wasn't there anymore. His hands ran through her waist and she sat on the bed to look at her.

"What's wrong?" He asked, raspy and groggy, moving her hair away. She looked at him with teary eyes and buried her face on his neck.

He immediately hugged her, running his fingers through the exposed skin, lying down again and bringing her along.

"Which one was it this time?"

"The house without me." She simply responded. The man had basically an encyclopedia of her nightmares inside his head.

They were living together and he only saw her, for three years now, Regulus knew basically every single piece of her life.

"Come on, you saw their reactions." He said, stroking her hair. "You really think they'd want a life without you?"

It made sense, she had to admit. However her mind was in such a dark place she could only think how it would be way better if her soul never even came to this world.

"Look at me." He asked, stroking her hair. The girl only buried her face even more into his chest.

"Please?"

Sighing deeply, she raised her head a little, staring into his eyes.

"You made my world a thousand times better." Regulus whispered to her face. "I'd still be in so much pain if it weren't for you. Don't let your mind go there. For me."

Spending time like this, breathing deeply in and out, starting to calm herself down, the hand in her hair and those eyes certainly helped. Lying there, she felt at ease.

Like she was floating with her eyes closed in a calm river, having no idea where it'd lead but didn't wanted to know. The water would be filling her ears, stopping the sounds from the outside world to bother her imense peace.

Peace.

That's exactly what she felt.

A small smile took the form of her lips and Regulus mirrored her.

If she was floating on a calm river, this is the time something would cause a light wave, it would make her lift a little and a cold on her belly when falling back, tingling inside her.

Oh, she thought.

Oh, she panicked.

God, no.

This was the last thing she needed right now.

That part was when she realized she had no fucking clue how to swim, and started panicking, wanting to reach shore once again before drowning.

Noticing how her smile faltered, he tilted his head. “What’s wrong?”

“I- uh- nothing. I just- huh- realized I forgot to feed the possessors last night, I’m gonna do it now, just in case.” She said, fumbling to get up.

“Didn’t you give them pie yesterday?”

“Yeah but, you know, there’s a new one, they’ll start to feel weird, it’s better to make sure.” Continued to lie, brushing her hair with her fingers to keep her hands busy and not letting him see she was shaking. “I’ll be back!”

“Y/n is-” But she left before he could finish. “Five in the morning.”

Basically running down the stairs, she sighed deeply. 

This wasn’t happening, no, absolutely not. This couldn’t be happening.

Of all the people in the world? Well, she didn’t knew a lot of people, mostly like ten or twelve and they were all really old.

But the guy she had saved? To be fair, their pain made them get really closer.

But right now? War is banging at your door, how longer do you want to wait?

But why him? Why Regulus? Why not?

Shaking her head and stopping her inner conversation, she cut a big piece of pie he made the day before and stomped her way to the basement once again.

“Oh Merlin’s sake, why me?” She grunted, sitting on the floor with two candles throwing light at the entire place. “And why him?”

The possessor only looked at her, bright red eyes of different sizes staring and following her every movement. A few of them, bigger and harder to be domed were on big metal cages with enchantments surrounding them.

She didn’t fear they’d attack her, not at all, but Regulus she wasn’t sure. After all, he shouldn’t be alive. 

Others, smaller and gentler, would often be out of the cages, especially those who possessed animals, it wasn’t the same “fun” as possessing humans.

Humans were confusing, filled with emotions who often would go against instincts, it was more feelings for them to digest and explore. And right now, she was the perfect mix of them: anger, sadness and confusion.

There was only a small ray of sunshine, of happiness, but it wasn’t enough.

“I mean, he knew my parents, probably my father made fun of him at some point, everyone knows James Potter wasn’t a saint.” She talked, chewing on the pie. “Hum, this is amazing. I see why I’m in love with him.”

She gasped for herself, choking on the food.

“No!” Said, between swallowing. “I’m not in love with him. Plus, Regulus is like twenty or something. He wouldn’t want this fifteen kid with him. It’s better if I just... ignore it, and it will go away. It will past and I can forget all of this.”

The door to the basement opened up and she jumped, thinking it would be said person, however she was met with her brother’s figure carefully stepping down.

“Harry! What are you doing here?”

He left the stairs, looking around to the amount of red eyes looking at him. They reminded him of Voldemort’s eyes, but even those had something beyond them, some spark, the man’s eyes were just... void.

“I heard you on the stairs.” He said calmly. “Thought you were making breakfast but I didn’t find you in the kitchen so I took a wild guess.”

“And it worked!” She giggled. “Usually Reggie makes breakfast while I’m down here training and learning. He should be out of bed in a couple minutes and we can eat.”

“Some of them are bigger than others.” Harry mentioned, looking up her shoulder.

“Yeah, it depends on the person, the kind of death, how long that person was dead, if they accepted it, these type of things.” Y/n explained. “See that one right there?” She pointed at the only big one without bars locking him up. “It came out of Regulus. He knew his death was coming and it took him quite some time to die, and more than ten years later he didn’t accepted.”

Harry stared at the monster, that’s what it looked like. A giant cloudy figure who was tall enough with its paws lightly curved to be on his chest’s size. If his sister wasn’t speaking to him in such light tone, he’d be freezed.

“That’s their intention.” She said, smiling gently. “They want to paralyze you and understand all of your fears, deepest feelings and how ready you are to die. It’s exactly what they do.”

“This big guy in particular gave me a hell of a headache to capture it.” She went on, caressing the top of the creature like one caresses a puppy. “He escaped the house, I was too busy with Regulus I couldn’t go after him. Long story short, we had to move because in just a few days everyone knew what happened and they wanted answers that we couldn’t provide.”

“Did he... kill... anyone?”

“Well, not quite.” She made a weird face, a mix of cringe and sarcasm. “He sure scared a lot of people and sent them to the hospital, that I won’t deny. But he needed someone with as much trouble on the head as Regulus Black, and we were living in a small town were people’s biggest trouble was a pumpkin contest.”

He laughed at that, kind of sounded like where he lived, how aunt Petunia were always so worried abou the farm market and how she wanted to win the best pie in town.

But they probably lived very far apart, something like a possessor walking freely down the street could never go unnoticed his aunt’s long neck and his uncle’s big ears.

“Where did you lived all these years?” He asked, sitting on the floor and crossing his legs. Her life felt like a thousand times more interesting than his.

“After I left Abby’s house I went west, so I visited Wales, probably jumped to Ireland, I’m pretty sure I saw some leprechauns in my life.” She told, still caressing the possessor’s head, who was now asleep in her lap. “But after I saved Regulus we basically just lived around here. After Voldemort’s return we sealed the house even more and I started training these bad boys to attack if someone invaded;”

So that’s what he meant yesterday with “special moves” if anything happened, the boy thought.

“Where exactly are we?”

“In the very North of London, almost Scotland. There’s a beach just a few minutes away if you want to know.” Hearing the bumps upside her head, she smiled. “I guess it’s breakfast time.”

*************************************************

Next Chapter

Taglist (lmk if i forgot anyone): @intoanothermind @moonysupremacy01 @maraudersarelifee @elleraelockwood @darkenwolfie @hopesf @lukewearingbeanies @azuredgalaxies @klazina-couch-potato @goldensunshineshit @kaverichauhan @venomsvl @mrs-billyrussooo @mikadorbs @iavenderh6ze @wizardsgrace @reblog-princess @dittos-blog-dylanobrien @roroswitherose @s-we-e-t-t-ea

#Manipulating Death Series #harry potter #regulus black #remus lupin #sirius black #albus dumbledore #black brothers #dumbledore #harry potter fanfiction #order of the phoenix #harry potter x reader #regulus black x reader #marauders #marauders fanfiction

[p-taryn-dactyl]

ooh maybe you could do some bucky x reader angst?? like angsty angst. that could be cool!

A/n: BUCKY ANGST AHAHAHA you know me so well. Also…this is very late I apologize :( word count: 1.1k warning(s): reader has died - angst - depressing - based on In The Stars by Benson Boone

In The Stars

    Sunday mornings were your favorite

I used to meet you down on Woods Creek Road

You did your hair up like you were famous

Even though it's only church where we were goin'

    Bucky slowly blinked awake, the stillness of the air keeping him in bed. He rolled over, staring at the empty spot in his bed, a heavy weight on his chest. Sighing, he sat up, rubbing his face with his hands. It was Sunday. You loved Sundays. You said it was your excuse to look your best, dolling up your hair and dressing in your best clothes. He could still smell your signature perfume lingering in the air. Checking the clock, Bucky just layed back down, having no reason to be up this early anymore. 

Now, Sunday mornings, I just sleep in

It's like I buried my faith with you

I'm screamin' at a God, I don't know if I believe in

'Cause I don't know what else I can do

    He woke up around noon, dragging himself out of bed to go into the kitchen. His pace picked up as he smelled breakfast, his heart rate increasing at something that couldn’t be true. He slid into the kitchen, his face falling when he saw the empty room, lights dimmed and appliances untouched. Your memory stained this room. You would spend hours creating meals that looked like they were straight out of a magazine. You would dance to music, spinning and twirling on the tile, making Bucky join you. Often you would forget something on the stove, your playful dancing quickly turning into frantic movements. Those nights were Bucky’s favorite. You would pout on the couch over your ruined meal, watching a movie snuggled up against Bucky’s chest as you ate a microwave dinner. 

    Now, Bucky wandered aimlessly through the kitchen, heating up leftovers that Sarah and Sam had dropped off a few days ago. He felt anger course through him when he saw the picture of you, the day he had proposed. Your smile was large as Bucky lifted you in the air, twirling you around. It was a few weeks before the accident. Before he got that god forsaken call. Punching the island with his metal arm, Bucky let out a cry. He didn’t know what to do now. You were his future and now you were gone.

    I'm still holdin' on to everything that's dead and gone

I don't wanna say goodbye, 'cause this one means forever

Now you're in the stars and six-feet's never felt so far

Here I am alone between the heavens and the embers

    Your funeral was a sunny day, something that irked Bucky to his core. You were his light, his sunshine, and the sun had the audacity to shine. He begged the sky to rain, to match what he was feeling inside but all that happened was the clouds parted to reveal even more golden light. When you were lowered into the ground, Bucky felt a piece of his soul be buried with you. He felt Sam’s hand on his shoulder, the dreaded question leaving his lips. 

    “Do you want to say goodbye?” 

Bucky shook his head while letting out a sob, hot tears pouring down his face. 

    “I can’t Sam. I can’t say goodbye because that makes this permanent. That means forever.” His voice was like broken glass, shards of emotion pouring out with each word. Sam let Bucky lean on him as the man sobbed, his tears staining Sam’s suit. In Bucky’s hands he clutched your necklace to his chest. A simple silver charm in the shape of a dove dug indents into his chest. You used to wear it everyday, never taking it off once. You were buried with the ring he gave you so now he pledged to never take this chain off, never to let the last piece he had of you be lost. 

    Oh, it hurts so hard

For a million different reasons

You took the best of my heart

And left the rest in pieces

    The days after your funeral were a whirlpool of emotions. Mostly anger, denial, and confusion racked Bucky’s brain. He threw furniture around, broke bottles against the wall, screamed as loud as he could with every breath. Some nights, he waited on the couch, facing the door, waiting for you to walk in. Waiting for you to tell him it was all a nightmare, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him and dry his tears. 

    But you never did. 

Diggin' through your old birthday letters

A crumpled 20 still in the box

I don't think that I could ever find a way to spend it

Even if it's the last 20 that I've got, oh

    Your family asked for some of your things, something to hold on to. Bucky understood yet couldn’t shake the anger he held towards their question. He had piled away your things into a closet, out of sight so he couldn’t be plagued by the memories. He found a box full of birthday cards, going back to your highschool years. Each one was worn, like you had reread them a million times. Each one resembled a smile he would never see again. One card caught his attention, a piece of money sticking out the side. A crumpled twenty dollar bill fell into his hand when he opened the card. He remembered when you received this card, the money from your ailing grandmother made your eyes well up with tears. He swore to never use the bill, even if it’s the last amount of money he had. He would rather go bankrupt than lose this piece of you. 

    I'm still holdin' on to everything that's dead and gone

I don't wanna say goodbye, 'cause this one means forever

Now you're in the stars and six-feet's never felt so far

Here I am alone between the heavens and the embers

Oh, it hurts so hard

For a million different reasons

You took the best of my heart

And left the rest in pieces

    Bucky sat by your grave, clearing away the dead flowers and grass. He planted new fresh flowers, dahlias, your favorite. The wind swirled around him like a warm hug, giving him an illusion to comfort. Tears fell down his cheeks as he stood up, leaning against the stone cold of your memorial. He took a deep breath before leaning forward to kiss your grave. He clasped your dove necklace around his neck, the cold charm centering his mind. He whispered against the stone, his words lost to the wind. 

    “I love you Y/N. Goodbye.”

a/n: …i don’t know if this is good or not but i have wanted to write a fic based on this song for a while so i hone you enjoyed it! Thank you for reading <3

#bucky angst #bucky barnes #bucky x fem!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns x y/n #the winter solider x reader #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier #the winter solider fanfiction

[missmouse25]

Title - Max Fewtrell

Hello world, i bring you another self indulgent song fic, here you go. Based off of Meghan Trainor's song Title .

gender neutral first person pov // 606 words // little bit angsty and a mention of Max maybe seeing you naked --- “Really, Max?”

I stood with my arms folded, watching him from across the kitchen island. His ears were red and he kept avoiding my eye.

“I… I panicked!” He replied, still unsure of himself.

To that, I rolled my eyes.

“You could’ve said literally anything else.”

~

We walked through the crowd that filled the night market hand in hand. The streets were alive as people talked and laughed; moved from stall to stall. Strings of lights flickered softly above our heads.

“There, I can see them.” Max pointed out a small group of men before leading me towards them.

Though we had lots of friends in common, these were Max’s friends only, and I hadn’t yet had the honour of meeting them.

As we reached them, the men all took their turn greeting Max while I stayed to the side, happy to see Max excited about being with people he cared about.

“Alright, are you going to introduce us or do we have to wait around like idiots?” One of them asked and gestured to me.

“Oh, right,” Max suddenly seemed to splutter. “This is… um, my…friend.

That one word was like a gut punch. But in that moment, I kept the smile on my face and shook everyone’s hands. I retained no one’s names – my brain kept replaying that one word over and over: Friend.

~

And so, I found myself, standing in the kitchen. True, we hadn’t put a label on what we were, but we certainly were not just friends.

“I’m sorry, I just…” Max rounded the island and placed himself in front of me. “I didn’t want to spend time explaining… whatever we are.”

I couldn’t stop myself from muttering.

“Whatever we are…”

Max’s demeanour changed. Finally, he looked at me.

“What do you want?”

“For you to be honest with me!” I threw my hands in the air. “Are you scared that I’m going to… I don’t know, tie you down? Embarrass you by being clingy?”

The emotions were starting to overflow; I moved myself away from Max and started pacing the space between the counters.

“No…” Max started, but unfortunately for him, I was now on a roll.

“Cause if that’s the case, then maybe we should just be friends. I deserve to be close with someone who will be proud of me, who will respect me.”

“Yes, you do…”

Hell, if you ever want more than just kisses from me, I never want to hear you call me your ‘friend’ again.

“Ok!”

Max jumped in front of me, gently holding onto my arms to stop me from making a dent in the tiles.

“Look, you’re right about everything. You do deserve all that.” He paused, making sure that I was listening. “What is it that you want from me?”

Max didn’t even see to blink behind his glasses.

I let my heartbeat return to normal before answering.

“I want the title.”

“The title?” The confused expression on his face was almost cute enough to make me cave right then and there.

“The title. Of being your partner,” I said with confidence. “Unless of course, you don’t want to see what’s under my shirt.”

Max’s eyes widened and his ears went red again. I couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“It’s your choice now, Max,” I told him once I’d regained my breath.

“The title, hmmm?” He nodded at his own words. “I think you’ve been spending too much time around racing drivers.”

He smiled. It was a smile that sent shivers up my spine.

“Maybe,” I moved a little closer to him. “So, c’mon. Give me that title.”

#lol this was just for funsies #i've had this idea stuck in my head for ages now #anyways hope y'all enjoyed that #max fewtrell x reader #max fewtrell fanfic #Mouse Writes #ThatKindaVibe

[meaninglessblah-writes]

⚔️☕️😈🦷

Thank you for helping me work towards my Nanowrimo goal! 💙

"Give me—" Tim pleads, struggling for purchase on the polished marble countertop. "Give me a second."

Slade's only response is to hoist Tim's leg higher where it's hooked over his forearm. Tim groans at the new position, the sound buried beneath Slade's blunt, "You can take it."

Tim's elbows are beginning to chafe. His toes are barely scraping the kitchen tile with the one foot he does have ground, and the smooth counter is offering nothing in the way of stability. Especially not when Slade reaffirms the grip he has on Tim's hip and punches the air from his lungs with a particularly pointed thrust.

“Slade,” Tim insists, forehead dipping towards the cool marble. The warmth of his skin is beginning to penetrate the stone, stripping away even that comfort as Slade sets a reckless pace.

“Quit complaining,” Slade responds, and shifts Tim’s knee further into the crook of his elbow so he can reach up and wrap a hand around the front of his throat. His teeth follow shortly after, scraping down Tim's neck to close around his shoulder.

When they press down, Tim groans loudly, reaching back to take a handful of Slade's hair in his fist.

“Knew you liked it rough,” Slade says, amused, and bites down again.

525 / 50,000

Help me reach my goal!

#meaninglessblah answers #meaninglessblah conquers nanowrimo #anonymous

[katastronoot]

WIP WEDNESDAY (NOW ITS FRIDAY HAHA)

Tagged by: @friend-of-giants and @hannahcbrown thanks you guys!!!

I don’t have any art right now so here’s a little snippet from my novel :)

Briartown has always been her home. She was not born here, no. But her life began in this little village. Simple stone cottages with mud-colored roofs lined the gravel roads, all family-owned businesses. A few nymphs owned the town’s bakery, a faun by the name of Rigolo ran the library, there was the blacksmith Charlie—a stone golem, and all sorts of monsters and humans sold goods in the marketplace square every morning. When the sun went down, the nocturnal residents would gather. Chatting and enjoying the friendly company they shared while others would head to the inns and taverns. With the village neighboring the capital, many travelers stayed here overnight during their trek to the big city.

The ring-necked pheasant shifted into the small, framed woman, landing swiftly from the air to the soggy ground. She often wondered why the goddess blessed her with her bird. Perhaps it was because the first meat she consumed was pheasant, but she would never know for sure. Neither of her parents were around to ask.

After barely avoiding a blackout spell and traveling from the capital, she could use a good long rest. Her bird was not the strongest of flyers. Long distances taxed her body more than she would have liked.

A wooden door creaked roughly on its hinges while smells of stew and hand-crafted honeyed mead filled the air. Her stomach growled on cue; starting to feel the effect of not eating earlier, but it was still the better alternative than becoming deathly ill after consuming raw meats. There were a few tables in the room, most of them being completely empty. An old man slumped over passed out in the corner while a patron or two sat with a late-night meal. The atmosphere was quiet. Simple and plain.

The orc barkeeper gave her a nod in greeting, she threw a smile back as she rounded the counter and walked towards the staircase behind the bar. At the last step there was a brown paneled door with a sign hung that read Tawny’s Mug and Tonic. Intricately carved designs rested in the knob handle. Once she placed her palm on the cool metal, the markings glowed a soft teal blue and the lock clicked open.

The sensation was as if traveling to a different world. Laughter rang out in every direction. A bard was seated in the corner strumming on a lute while singing drunken tales about debauched maidens. A few men stood in the training area, sparring with a set of steel daggers. Their grunts and growls soon turned to howls of victory and pats on the back. Cheers cried out in satisfaction as bets were placed and gold was traded. Her stomach rumbled when she smelled the fresh tavern food that flew from the kitchen. Meat, mash, stew, cheeses, fruits, baked pies, and other desserts were plated and handed out by the women working the serving shift for the night. A few patrons gave Mira a pat on the back in greeting or a playful punch on the arm. She was grateful for the change of pace.

These people were the closest thing she had to a family.

This was her home.

#personal #writing

[larabiatasstuff]

Part four🖤

"Do you need some company tonight?" he asked. "I wouldn't mind if I'm honest also you're still bleeding I want to take a look at your ear." Yeah of course you almost died tonight but sure let's pay attention to the little scratch on my ear. " he shook his head." Cash what is wrong with you? I'm okay, I'm here look at me please." "Can we... Can we just go inside please?" he said looking directly in my eyes with an expression I never saw on him before. "Okay, let's go then." We got into my apartment and I went straight to the kitchen getting some beer and my first aid kit. "Here, is it okay if I look at your ear?" Cash opened the bottle and took a huge sip. "If you insist." I cleaned the wound and saw that Cash had a large cut on his ear but not deep enough that he needed stitches. Then I joined him on the sofa drinking my own beer. "Did he hurt you?" Cash suddenly asked. "No he didn't have the chance to hurt me thanks to you. I haven't really thanked you for that." "That's not necessary. I promised to protect you." "Cash can I ask you something?" "What?" he asked taking another sip. "Why did you punch him so hard? If I hadn't stopped you..." Cash got up and paced around the room"Okay you wanna know why I did that? I'll tell you. I was scared, I was scared about your well being, I was scared that he would hurt you I was fucking scared to lose you Y/N." his voice got louder and louder till he almost yelled. "Just the thought of losing you almost broke my heart. Yes you're a real pain in the ass but I can't live without you. I like you Y/N, alot." with that he took a step towards me and before I knew it his lips were on mine. The kiss was wonderful, passionate and full of emotions. When we broke the kiss to get some air he gave me a warm smile." This method to shut you up is by far my favorite. "again his lips were on mine, our mouths working perfectly against each other and his tongue felt so good dancing with mine. We took each others clothes off never breaking the kiss. Cash gently pushed me on the sofa climbing on top of me." You're beautiful like this. I never saw a more beautiful woman in my life." "You're looking very hot yourself Cash." I said letting my fingers glide over his muscular back. He leaned down kissing my neck leaving a trail of kisses down to my breasts licking and sucking on my nipples. His lips felt so good on my skin. "Is this alright? Does it feel good?" "Yes Cash it's so good, please I need more." he gave me a peck on the lips "Don't worry you'll get so much more." he worked his way down to the waistband of my trousers. He pulled it off including my underwear. He placed open mouthed kisses on the inside of my thighs til he reached the spot where I wanted him the most. "Oh god... Cash yes right there. It's so good handsome. It feels amazing please don't stop." I felt him smile against my skin before he increased the speed and brought me closer and closer to my orgasm. My hand tangled in his gorgeous gray hair pulling him closer and he groaned at the sensation. He didn't stop until he got another two orgasms out of me. Then he comes up to me kissing me passionately. "I need to fuck you Y/N sorry for the language but it's true I need to feel you.". "Yes I want you too Cash take me please I'm all yours." he didn't waste time positioned himself between my legs entering me completely. I've never felt so full before he was huge. He gave me a second to adjust before he started thrusting his hips hard into mine.

#thomas ian griffith #sensei targaryen #cashx reader #cash

[eddieandbird]

Part 10 - The Roof Incident

Part 9 | Eddie & Bird | Part 11

5:00 PM could not come faster for Dove. She had spent the whole day bouncing her leg and tapping her pen on her desk. Usually, she tried to be social with her coworkers, small-talking and gossiping in the break room, but she knew herself enough that it would be too risky. She knew she would just ramble on about Eddie and how charming he was, even when he had barely woken up. She was so giddy that she practically raced to pick up dinner and get home.

“Eddie!” Dove called out as he got through the door. Her hands were full with two bags of Chinese takeout. “Eddie? Eddie, where are you? I have food!” She placed her bags on the kitchen counter and scanned the room. Eddie was not in the living room or kitchen. She repeatedly called his name as she opened the doors of her bathroom, closet, and bedroom, her voice getting increasingly frantic with each failed search.

Panic set in as Dove realized that Eddie was nowhere to be found. She fidgeted with her ponytail while pacing the floor. “Shit, shit, shit, Robin’s going to fucking kill me,” She whispered to herself. She grabbed her keys and prepared to go back out to drive around the block to see if she could catch Eddie nearby. Her house was secluded and surrounded by big trees, with no actual buildings around for a few miles. If Eddie had snuck out and ran, he probably wouldn’t be around any civilians at least. Dove burst through her door and as she was about to get back into her car, she heard a light clanking noise coming from the back of her house. “What the hell?” she said as she ran to her backyard.

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” Dove looked up to see Eddie laying on her roof, smoking a cigarette that he must’ve found in one of her kitchen drawers.

“Welcome home, Buckley! How was work?” Eddie beamed down a grin at her.

“Eddie, why did you- nevermind! Get down now!” Dove demanded as she stomped her right foot.

“Woah, woah calm down, Bird. I just came out here for some fresh air,” Eddie chuckled, stepping down the ladder he had found from the garage.

“On my fucking roof, are you insane?” Dove continued to scold him. “What were you thinking? What if someone saw you?”

“You’re right, the local tree dwellers could’ve totally come after me,” Eddie blew a raspberry as he climbed down the ladder propped up against her house. Dove’s skin felt like it was steaming. She never was one for violence, but she wanted nothing more than to punch his face. Instead of throwing her fist, she balled it up to her side.

“Eddie, you scared the living shit out of me. I thought you ran away! I thought I was going to have to tell everyone that you were on the loose, and-and-and then what? Robin would literally murder me, Dustin would-” Dove’s voice cracked as she started to hyperventilate. She clutched her chest desperate for air.

“Hey come here,” Eddie tried to stop her rage by pulling her into a hug. Dove trembled in Eddie’s arms. He felt his shoulder become wet with her tears. 

Eddie felt awful. He was frustrated because, in an attempt to feel some sort of freedom and normalcy, his actions had hurt Dove. He even was upset with that thought because she was the only person in weeks that made an effort to help him live as comfortably as possible. She made him feel like he wasn’t fighting for his life, but that he was actually living again. He’s never been good at comforting anyone when they were upset, but he was going to do his damn best to make Dove feel better.

“It’s okay, Bird. Everything is okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Eddie rubbed small circles on Dove’s back. His voice sounded so sweet, but it didn’t change the fact that it bothered Dove that he was now using her childhood nickname. She couldn’t tell yet if he was saying it sincerely or mockingly.

“Just don’t do any stupid shit like that again!” Dove pushed him away and stomped back inside her house. Eddie followed closely behind her, holding his head down in shame. “I got you fried rice and orange chicken, enjoy,” She said flatly, heading straight for the bathroom.

Dove locked the door behind her, hitting her head with the palm of her hand repeatedly. One day with Eddie, and she was already wanting out. She didn’t know if her heart could take the stress the wild child was capable of giving her. Why did Eddie have to be so chaotic? Why did he have to confuse her with sweet gestures just to mess it up with a grand fuck-up? Tears continued to rush out of Dove’s eyes, as she heard a light knock on the door behind her.

“Hey, Dove?” Eddie called, his hand pressed to the door. “You alright in there?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I’ll be out in a sec,” Dove replied as she ran a face towel under warm water from her sink. She gently wiped away her now ruined mascara and blush, her eyes bloodshot from her stinging tears.

“Listen, I really do feel bad for what I did. I’ve just been bored to tears all day. I thought a change of scenery would help me feel better,” Eddie nervously pulled his hair to his mouth. “And I know what you’re thinking. You really got a shit deal when Robin dropped me off here. Now you have to babysit Eddie the freak Munson. I get it, I’d be pretty mad at me too,” His voice trailed off. 

“Who told you that?” Dove asked from the other side of the door.

“Who did what now?” Eddie was startled by her response.

“Who called you a freak?” She continued as she opened the door. He stepped out of the way for the door but somehow ended up face to face with Dove.

“Damn near everyone…” He shook his head.

“I think ‘damn near everyone' should mind their business. You might be a pain in the ass, but nothing about you makes you sub-human. Liking D&D and heavy metal doesn’t make you a freak. If anything, their closed minds make them freaks,” She lightly brushed his shoulder as she walked over to the kitchen.

Eddie was frozen standing in the hallway after Dove said that to him. He almost didn’t believe that a beautiful stranger would stand up for him like that, especially with no one around to find her being charitable. He brought his hands over his face, undoing the trance he was in.

Dove stayed silent after that. She took her meal in her room to eat alone, listening to her radio while she moped in bed. After a few bites in, she calmed down enough to remember that she promised to call Robin after work.

“Robin?” Dove said weakly as she heard the other side of the phone pick up.

“Hey Bird. Everything okay?” Robin heard her tone and started to worry.

“Eeeeeh, kinda?” Dove’s pitch was high as she scratched her head.

“What did he do?” Robin groaned. Dove turned up her radio and placed it at the foot of the door in hopes of muffling out the conversation so Eddie wouldn’t hear.

“Rob, I came home and he was on my freaking roof! Like just laying on it, out in the open!” Dove exclaimed

“Yup, sounds like Munson. I’m really sorry Bird. I hope you tore him a new one for it,” Dove stayed silent. “You did at least yell at him, right?” 

“Kindaaaa?” 

“It’s a yes or no question, Bird,” Robin said sternly.

“Okay no, not completely-” Dove stopped herself, knowing she couldn’t avoid the question “I didn’t really know what to say. He’s been through a lot and he said he just wanted some fresh air, and he-” Robin chuckled.

“Oh my god, Dove,”

“What?” she spat, defensively.

“Nothing… I just can’t believe my sister is crushing on the Eddie Munson,” Robin whisper-screamed.

“W-what are you talking about?”

“Bird c’mon, you called him an asshole literally days ago. Now, I could practically hear you crumbling for him from here,” Robin smiled to herself. Dove was her sister, and she was going to give her a hard time, but she liked Eddie. She had a feeling Eddie would be sweet to Dove, and she figured if he didn’t, she knew she could always hit him with Steve’s spiked bat.

“I don’t know what to do Robin,” Dove whined. “This boy is going to be the death of me,”

Her feelings about Eddie were getting more and more complicated. She wanted him to follow her house rules so her anxiety wouldn’t paralyze her, but also she liked how he did the opposite. She didn’t want him to change who he was, even if it was to spare her mental breakdowns. Dove also held anger toward everyone who bullied him back home. She thought it was so stupid how society felt the right to beat down anyone who had a passion. Her life out in Indianapolis was filled with people who had the personality of a wet noodle and she hated that she had to act the same just to blend in. She felt like she and Eddie were different. If they weren’t in such a tough situation, Dove could imagine them in a studio apartment somewhere in Los Angeles, doing whatever their hearts desired.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #robin buckley

[yourimagines]

Nick asking you to move in with him

Thank you!!!

The next step

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Gif is not mine

* Triggers: fluff

Nick POV

I was pacing around the living room. ‘She’s basically here everyday, so it’s not a weird question.’ I run my hand through my hair. ‘She’s will be here any minute now.’ I checked my phone if she already texted me. No text, no calls from her. ‘Calm down, she’s your girl not a stranger.’

I heard a knock on the front door. “Nick? I’m here.” I walked over and opened the door. “Hey, come in.” She walked in and kissed my cheek. “I’ve got us some lunch.” She held up a bag. I followed her to the kitchen. “You’re the best.” I placed a kiss on her head and took out some plates. “Here you go.” She filled the plate and handed me back. “Thanks.” We both sat down by the kitchen table, eating in silence.

“Can I help you?” I was loading the dishwasher as she wrapped her arms around me, her cold hands went under my hoodie. “No thanks.” “You sure?” “Yeah.” I moved around as she hugged me. “Why are you so warm.” “I’m not that warm you’re just cold.” I closed the dishwasher and turned around, she was smiling at me. “Are you sure its not cold in here?” She nodded. “I only have cold hands but that’s it, I promise.” She gave me a quick kiss. “Okay, but tell me when it is cold for you here, I’ll turn the heater on or I’ll give you my hoodie. I don’t want you to get ill.” She smiled at me and placed her head against my chest.

She was watching a video on the tv about misfits boxing. “What a clown.” I looked up. “Who?” “Jake Paul.” I chuckled at her. “What? Its true and you know it.” “I’m not denying it.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry but your brother needs to fight him in mma. Forget the boxing stuff, just choke him out.” I laughed as she pretended to choke someone. “You know just like that.” She pretended went on with her air fight, punching while choking someone out. “I’ll tell him you said that.” She shook her head. “No don’t.” She crawled over. “Why you scared?” “No…. But Nate doesn’t have to know.” “You are scared of him.” She playfully slapped my chest. “I’m not scared of your brother.” I raised my eyebrows. “Okay maybe a little bit but that’s not the point.” I grabbed her hands. “Then what’s the point?” She was thinking. “I don’t know.” She whispered. “You don’t know?” She shook her head. “I was not thinking about that Nick I was just ranting about this video.” I looked into her eyes. “What?” She asked while shyly smiling at me. “Nothing just looking at my girl.” She blushes. “Don’t get shy now.” I placed my hand on her cheek, softly tracing it. She leans into my hand, closing her eyes.

She was laying against my chest, eyes closed. The tv was playing the DAZN boxing fights. “Baby, do you want to see Logan vs Dillon.” I whispered at her. She opens her eyes. “Is it already starting.” “After this fight, yes.” She carefully sits back up straight and rubs into her eyes. “Was it a good nap?” She nods. “Yes, you’re a great pillow.” “Good to hear that.” I placed a kiss on her temple and stood up. “Drinks?” “Yes please.” I walked into the kitchen to get some drinks, I heard her mumbling to herself. I walked back and places our drink on the table. “Thank you.” “No problem.” I sat back down and wrapped an arm around her. “Who are we rooting for?” “The guy in the red pants.” She nods. “Is he good?” “Not really but I don’t like the other guy.” She giggles. “Are you laughing at me?” “No… I agree with you, the other guy does look suspicious.”

“What a night.” She jumps into the bed. “What a bunch of clowns.” I lay down next to her while I started to smoke. She snuggles against my chest. “I really like this you know.” Her cold hands laying against my chest, slowly tracing around. “I like this too.” I placed a kiss against her head. ‘This is the time to ask her!’ I took a long drag. “Your heart is beating faster.” She placed a kiss against my chest. “Is it?” She nods. “Weird.” She looks at me. I looked back at her, my hand cupping her face. “You like this right? Being here with me.” “Yes of course I like this.” I lay down my smoke on the tray on the nightstand. “Let’s move in together.” She smiles brightly at me. “For real?” “Yes for real, here with me or at you place, hell we can even buy a whole new house if that’s what you want but let’s move in together.” She places her hand on mine. “I would love to move in here with you.” I smiled back at her. “Good because I want to wake up every morning with you by my side.” She hides her face in my hand. “Now you making me shy Nick.” “I’m sorry baby.” I kissed her face and starts to giggle. “I love you.” “I love you.” She moves closer to me. “Let’s make a plan then.” “Tell me what your thinking about.” She starts to talk about the walk in closet how to divide the space. I looked at her and smiled, falling even more in love with her.

#ufc x reader #nick diaz imagine #nick diaz x reader #nick x reader #mma imagine #x reader #imagines #imagine #x y/n #y/n x character #x you #fluff imagine #x y/n fluff #fluff x reader #x you fluff #x yn #character x you #y/n imagines #y/n

[spookymultimedia]

When the Party's Over

When Dwight takes Michael home after the dinner party the two men get closer with each other

CW: vauge implications of sexual emotional abuse from Jan and minor injury

      After the disaster of a dinner party, Michael stared out the window of Dwight's car as they left Jan's house. He was going home with him. Michael was pretty quiet.

"Are you okay?" Dwight glanced at him

"Jan said she'd see me in the morning."

        "Michael, does she even know where I live?" 

           "She might." 

" She would get lost trying to find my house." 

   Michael sighed, "Yeah, you're right."

        "I hope the police take her in."

"I don't think-."

            "Michael she's batshit. She deserves the consequences."

   "I don't want the police involved. They'll just ask us weird questions." 

"True." Dwight sighed. He glanced at him.

"Did she. . .touch you. . .in a bad way?"

              "Yes, I don't want to talk about it." Michael answered in one breath. Dwight's blood ran cold. He reached out and held his hand. Michael hung on to his hand, his arm limp and tired. Dwight squeezed it before letting go.

         "I'm glad I'm taking you home."

"Me too."

        The rest of the ride to Dwight's house was quiet. The cool night air blew against Michael when he stepped out of the car. The sky was empty of any clouds so the full moon was shining over them. 

        "I haven't been here in months." Michael said as he stood in Dwight's living room. He stared at the floor blankly.

   "You ok?" Dwight looked at his friend. He didn't respond.

         "Are you hungry? When was the last time you ate?"

         "Breakfast." He mumbled. Dwight's eyes grew wide.

           "Oh my god you must be starving. There's some leftover peach pie in the fridge that we can eat." He walked into the kitchen and pulled out a pie and turned on the oven. "I'm going outside." Michael muttered. He walked out the door. "Careful." 

         Dwight watched him from outside the kitchen window. Michael walked around a couple of trees. The events of that night unraveled in his mind as paced around the yard. The wind was cold and sharp against his face. Hot tears filled his vision. He was tired of feeling so scared of Jan all the time. He growled out in frustration and punched a tree with full force. He winced and looked down at his stinging fist. Tears clouded his vision. He could see red. His hand stung. "Shit." 

     "Michael!" Dwight cried out.

Michael jumped and turned to him.

    "You're bleeding." He looked at Michael scared and led him back inside and sat him down in the kitchen. He took out a first aid kit and held up Michael's hand. He washed out the dirt with a wet wipe. Michael winced and cried quietly. Dwight hated to hear him cry. He wrapped up his fist in a bandage and kissed his hand. Michael drew back his hand. "Don't make it weird." He mumbled.

          "I'm sorry. Do you wanna talk about it?"

He shook his head.

"I missed you."

"Yeah. I missed you too." He placed his hand on Dwight's lap.  "Jan- Jan didn't like it- She didn't like it when we got too close around each other."

  "What? Why? Did she think where-?"

      "I don't know. I think your oven is ready." He pointed at it beeping. Dwight shot up and put half of the pie in the oven to reheat. 

    "I missed your hugs." Michael bit his lip and confessed. Dwight put a hand on his shoulder. Michael stood up and hugged him. He tensed up quickly but then immediately relaxed, "Michael. . ." He whispered softly. Michael buried his face into his chest and cried. He petted the shorter man's back, Michael's arms hugged into his waist. He pressed a small kiss on his head. He hummed to Michael and started to sing in German. He trembled in Dwight's arms. Dwight pressed two more kisses onto his head. He tapped Michael's shoulder.

       "I need to get the pie." Michael let him go and sat down while rubbing his face. "Sorry." Dwight mumbled and took the pie out to cool. "For what?"

             "Kissing your, uh, head."

   "It's okay." He waved a hand at him. Dwight took out two glasses and filled them with milk. "I love you." He whispered. 

"What?" Michael looked over at him

 "What?"

"I didn't hear you?"

  "Nothing." Dwight set the glass of milk and pie in front of Michael. He paused at his face and pressed a kiss on his cheek. He blinked and looked at Dwight. "Uh, sorry."

      "It's okay." Michael kissed cheek back when Dwight sat down with his own plate. Dwight covered his face with his hand and stepped back. "I love you too." He said without looking at Dwight.

            "Like- like as a friend or. . .?"

  He didn't answer. Dwight sighed and ate with him. Michael sipped his milk and leaned on his head on Dwight's shoulder.

"Where am I going tomorrow?"

         "Do you have anywhere else to go?"

"Jan's place. . . ?"

Dwight looked down at him sternly, "No. Absolutely not. No." He hugged Michael. " You can't be alone with her."

        "I'll be fine. I'll break up with her."

"Michael. No."

           "Can I stay here?"

Dwight sighed. "I don't know. Maybe. I'll see what I can do." He kissed his head and let him go. 

          "I'm fine."

Dwight pointed at his injured fist. "You are not fine." 

                "It's nothing. Don't worry about it. God."

They ate in silence for a moment.

"I'm scared." 

                 "Scared of what?" 

"I'm scared of Jan trying to get me back."

           "I won't let her near you."

 Dwight kissed his hand.  Michael took his plate and cup to the sink, "Thank you."

    When Dwight went to put away his dishes and Michael hugged him from behind. He stood still. Michael was never this affectionate with him before. "Are you okay?"

          "Yeah, why?"

"You're really touchy tonight."

             "Do you want me to stop?"

"No, You're just worrying me."

           "I missed you."

Dwight turned around and hugged him back, his heart was racing. He looked up at Dwight's face and touched his cheek. He looked down and got closer to Michael. He pressed his lips on Dwight’s and caressed his face. Dwight melted into his touch and kissed back. He pulled out after a few seconds. Neither of the men dared to ask about what this meant or what was happening between them. Michael leaned on his shoulder.

 "What time is it?" 

         "Almost 1 am. Can we cuddle?"

"Yeah."

        "Come on." He held Michael's hand and walked him to his bedroom. His bed was perfectly made from that morning. Dwight slipped off his clothes to just undershirt and so did Michael. Michael laid in bed waiting to be spooned, Dwight got behind him and put an arm around his waist and a leg between his legs. They had cuddled like this many times in private and they had both sworn to never tell anyone else about it, but they had never kissed like that before.

"Michael, do you love me?"

"Of course."

 "I mean, do you love me, love me?"

Michael stared at the wall in front of him. "Do you?"

     "What if I did?" Dwight's voice wavered.

"Why would you?"

        "You make me happy. You care about me. We've known each other for years. We've fought so much but you still like me."

      "I love you, but-."

"But?"

       "But I don't know if I love you, love you."

"Oh."

 Michael turned to face him and held his cheeks. Dwight glanced at his lips and eyes surprised. Michael kissed him. He opened his mouth a bit for Michael and Michael inserted in his tongue. He curled his tongue softly and slowly around Dwight's. They made out calmly for 15 minutes before Michael shut his eyes and rested his head on his shoulder to sleep. Dwight reached out and turned out the oil lamp by his bed stand and cuddled Michael as they fell asleep.

#the office #the office fanart #dwight schrute #michael scott #dwichael #the office the dinner party #the office fanfiction #the office fanfic #Spotify

[eddienbird]

Part 10 - The Roof Incident

Eddie & Bird [photo] Part 11

5:00 PM could not come faster for Dove. She had spent the whole day bouncing her leg and tapping her pen on her desk. Usually, she tried to be social with her coworkers, small-talking and gossiping in the break room, but she knew herself enough that it would be too risky. She knew she would just ramble on about Eddie and how charming he was, even when he had barely woken up. She was so giddy that she practically raced to pick up dinner and get home.

“Eddie!” Dove called out as he got through the door. Her hands were full with two bags of Chinese takeout. “Eddie? Eddie, where are you? I have food!” She placed her bags on the kitchen counter and scanned the room. Eddie was not in the living room or kitchen. She repeatedly called his name as she opened the doors of her bathroom, closet, and bedroom, her voice getting increasingly frantic with each failed search.

Panic set in as Dove realized that Eddie was nowhere to be found. She fidgeted with her ponytail while pacing the floor. “Shit, shit, shit, Robin’s going to fucking kill me,” She whispered to herself. She grabbed her keys and prepared to go back out to drive around the block to see if she could catch Eddie nearby. Her house was secluded and surrounded by big trees, with no actual buildings around for a few miles. If Eddie had snuck out and ran, he probably wouldn’t be around any civilians at least. Dove burst through her door and as she was about to get back into her car, she heard a light clanking noise coming from the back of her house. “What the hell?” she said as she ran to her backyard.

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” Dove looked up to see Eddie laying on her roof, smoking a cigarette that he must’ve found in one of her kitchen drawers.

“Welcome home, Buckley! How was work?” Eddie beamed down a grin at her.

“Eddie, why did you- nevermind! Get down now!” Dove demanded as she stomped her right foot.

“Woah, woah calm down, Bird. I just came out here for some fresh air,” Eddie chuckled, stepping down the ladder he had found from the garage.

“On my fucking roof, are you insane?” Dove continued to scold him. “What were you thinking? What if someone saw you?”

“You’re right, the local tree dwellers could’ve totally come after me,” Eddie blew a raspberry as he climbed down the ladder propped up against her house. Dove’s skin felt like it was steaming. She never was one for violence, but she wanted nothing more than to punch his face. Instead of throwing her fist, she balled it up to her side.

“Eddie, you scared the living shit out of me. I thought you ran away! I thought I was going to have to tell everyone that you were on the loose, and-and-and then what? Robin would literally murder me, Dustin would-” Dove’s voice cracked as she started to hyperventilate. She clutched her chest desperate for air.

“Hey come here,” Eddie tried to stop her rage by pulling her into a hug. Dove trembled in Eddie’s arms. He felt his shoulder become wet with her tears. 

Eddie felt awful. He was frustrated because, in an attempt to feel some sort of freedom and normalcy, his actions had hurt Dove. He even was upset with that thought because she was the only person in weeks that made an effort to help him live as comfortably as possible. She made him feel like he wasn’t fighting for his life, but that he was actually living again. He’s never been good at comforting anyone when they were upset, but he was going to do his damn best to make Dove feel better.

“It’s okay, Bird. Everything is okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Eddie rubbed small circles on Dove’s back. His voice sounded so sweet, but it didn’t change the fact that it bothered Dove that he was now using her childhood nickname. She couldn’t tell yet if he was saying it sincerely or mockingly.

“Just don’t do any stupid shit like that again!” Dove pushed him away and stomped back inside her house. Eddie followed closely behind her, holding his head down in shame. “I got you fried rice and orange chicken, enjoy,” She said flatly, heading straight for the bathroom.

Dove locked the door behind her, hitting her head with the palm of her hand repeatedly. One day with Eddie, and she was already wanting out. She didn’t know if her heart could take the stress the wild child was capable of giving her. Why did Eddie have to be so chaotic? Why did he have to confuse her with sweet gestures just to mess it up with a grand fuck-up? Tears continued to rush out of Dove’s eyes, as she heard a light knock on the door behind her.

“Hey, Dove?” Eddie called, his hand pressed to the door. “You alright in there?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I’ll be out in a sec,” Dove replied as she ran a face towel under warm water from her sink. She gently wiped away her now ruined mascara and blush, her eyes bloodshot from her stinging tears.

“Listen, I really do feel bad for what I did. I’ve just been bored to tears all day. I thought a change of scenery would help me feel better,” Eddie nervously pulled his hair to his mouth. “And I know what you’re thinking. You really got a shit deal when Robin dropped me off here. Now you have to babysit Eddie the freak Munson. I get it, I’d be pretty mad at me too,” His voice trailed off. 

“Who told you that?” Dove asked from the other side of the door.

“Who did what now?” Eddie was startled by her response.

“Who called you a freak?” She continued as she opened the door. He stepped out of the way for the door but somehow ended up face to face with Dove.

“Damn near everyone…” He shook his head.

“I think ‘damn near everyone' should mind their business. You might be a pain in the ass, but nothing about you makes you sub-human. Liking D&D and heavy metal doesn’t make you a freak. If anything, their closed minds make them freaks,” She lightly brushed his shoulder as she walked over to the kitchen.

Eddie was frozen standing in the hallway after Dove said that to him. He almost didn’t believe that a beautiful stranger would stand up for him like that, especially with no one around to find her being charitable. He brought his hands over his face, undoing the trance he was in.

Dove stayed silent after that. She took her meal in her room to eat alone, listening to her radio while she moped in bed. After a few bites in, she calmed down enough to remember that she promised to call Robin after work.

“Robin?” Dove said weakly as she heard the other side of the phone pick up.

“Hey Bird. Everything okay?” Robin heard her tone and started to worry.

“Eeeeeh, kinda?” Dove’s pitch was high as she scratched her head.

“What did he do?” Robin groaned. Dove turned up her radio and placed it at the foot of the door in hopes of muffling out the conversation so Eddie wouldn’t hear.

“Rob, I came home and he was on my freaking roof! Like just laying on it, out in the open!” Dove exclaimed

“Yup, sounds like Munson. I’m really sorry Bird. I hope you tore him a new one for it,” Dove stayed silent. “You did at least yell at him, right?” 

“Kindaaaa?” 

“It’s a yes or no question, Bird,” Robin said sternly.

“Okay no, not completely-” Dove stopped herself, knowing she couldn’t avoid the question “I didn’t really know what to say. He’s been through a lot and he said he just wanted some fresh air, and he-” Robin chuckled.

“Oh my god, Dove,”

“What?” she spat, defensively.

“Nothing… I just can’t believe my sister is crushing on the Eddie Munson,” Robin whisper-screamed.

“W-what are you talking about?”

“Bird c’mon, you called him an asshole literally days ago. Now, I could practically hear you crumbling for him from here,” Robin smiled to herself. Dove was her sister, and she was going to give her a hard time, but she liked Eddie. She had a feeling Eddie would be sweet to Dove, and she figured if he didn’t, she knew she could always hit him with Steve’s spiked bat.

“I don’t know what to do Robin,” Dove whined. “This boy is going to be the death of me,”

Her feelings about Eddie were getting more and more complicated. She wanted him to follow her house rules so her anxiety wouldn’t paralyze her, but also she liked how he did the opposite. She didn’t want him to change who he was, even if it was to spare her mental breakdowns. Dove also held anger toward everyone who bullied him back home. She thought it was so stupid how society felt the right to beat down anyone who had a passion. Her life out in Indianapolis was filled with people who had the personality of a wet noodle and she hated that she had to act the same just to blend in. She felt like she and Eddie were different. If they weren’t in such a tough situation, Dove could imagine them in a studio apartment somewhere in Los Angeles, doing whatever their hearts desired.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #robin buckley #steve harrington #stranger things fanfic