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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 10 months

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Three Four, That’s the Magic Number - Hangman

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin / Wife!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog is 18+ Only!

Warnings: (Unplanned) Pregnancy; (Failed) Vasectomies; Humor; Suggestive Language; Marital Disagreements; Threats of Kicks to the Balls; Female Reader with No Description, No Y/N, Second Person POV, Use of "You"

Summary: You thought that three kids was it. But apparently your husband, Hangman, didn't have as successful of a vasectomy as you initially thought.

Master List

Holding your head in your hand, you tried to quell your sudden nausea as your husband continued to drive you and your family across town to the Bradshaw family home for a Dagger pool day. Your head was pounding and you swore that your body was naturally swaying on its own and your kids fighting in the back seat was not helping your mood.

“Hey!” Jake barked when your son kicked the back of your seat, causing all three of your kids to jump. “Sit down and apologize to your mama right now, Charlie.”

“Sorry, Mama,” Charlie mumbled out quietly.

“Thank you, baby,” you replied softly, still feeling out of it.

“If you three don’t stop fighting, we’re not going to the pool,” Jake warned your three kids. Coming to a stop at a red light, he turned around to shoot them the classic ‘do not test me today’ look that your kids knew to not test. “So, if you want to go to the pool and play with your friends, you’re going to stop fighting. Got it?”

“Yes, Daddy,” the three of them chorused together.

Turning to shoot you a concerned look, since you hadn’t looked like yourself for what felt like days now, Jake started driving again when the light turned green. Pulling into the Bradshaw driveway, you slowly got out of your seat and moved to pull your kids out of the back. Jake grabbed the food and took Liam and set him on his hip so that you could walk in without any extra weight.

The Bradshaw house was packed with the Daggers and their families. The years since the uranium facility mission had only made the Dagger relationships stronger and even though they didn’t all live near each other anymore, they made efforts to get together when they could. Especially with a lot of their kids being around the same age.

Your three kids quickly joined in the activities with the other Dagger babies, letting you get a brief moment of peace. You and Jake stepped out into the backyard with Jake resting a concerned hand on your lower back, as if he was worried that you’d collapse on him.

“Are you sure that you’re fine?” Jake asked worriedly.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “I probably just need to eat and drink some more water. That’s all.”

“Go sit down. I’ll grab you something.”

Jake reluctantly parted from your side and headed inside again while you made your way over to where Phoenix and Payback’s wife Dana were sitting by the pool. The direct sun caused your head to pound once again.

“You look horrible,” Phoenix commented, causing you to sigh and drop onto a chair.

“I feel horrible,” you muttered, shifting the umbrella over to block the sun.

“Are you sick?” Dana asked, sitting up.

“No. I don’t have a fever or anything like that. It’s probably just some stomach thing or just me being exhausted.”

“You’re nauseous?”

“Only sometimes,” you replied with a shrug, lying flat on your back.

“Have you been sleeping well?”

“No,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes and blinking slowly. “Liam’s still sleeping in our bed most nights and he usually kicks one of us awake. Mostly Jake, actually.”

“Eh, Hangman probably deserved it,” Phoenix muttered, shrugging her shoulders.

“Love you too, Phoenix,” Jake muttered, arriving on the scene.

He offered you a plate of food and a cup of water. You took the offering from your husband and shot him a small smile. In return, Jake leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“Thanks, baby,” you told him, smiling softly.

“You’ll let me know if you need to go home, right?” Jake asked you, shooting that look that he always did whenever you over-exerted yourself.

“Yes, Commander Seresin,” you replied sarcastically, shooting him an exasperated expression.

“We don’t need to be here for your foreplay,” Phoenix stated from behind Jake, causing Dana to burst out into snickers.

“Daddy!” Annie called, causing Jake to immediately spin around to see her standing on the steps of the pool with Bob right beside her. “Come play in the pool!”

“I’m coming, Princess!”

Jake peeled off his shirt and handed it over to you. Shooting you one last concerned look, Jake headed over to join Annie in the pool. You folded his shirt up and set it beside you before reaching for your water.

“How long have you been feeling ill?” Dana asked as you sipped at your water. “Jake seems pretty concerned.”

“About a week,” you replied quietly, reaching for the food that he brought you.

“You made an appointment?”

“Not yet. But I’m worried that he’ll make one for me if I drag my feet anymore,” you stated honestly, popping a grape into your mouth.

“Are you telling me that we’re in for another classic Hangman freak out?” Phoenix sighed, taking a long sip of her beer. “I haven’t had enough drinks to deal with that yet.”

“I think that Annie’s keeping him distracted for now,” you responded, smiling as Jake tossed Annie up in the air and caught her. Annie squealed as Jake pressed a kiss to her cheek and tossed her in the air again. “She’s got him wrapped around her finger at all times.”

You moved to eat some crackers and cheese, keeping everything lighter and stomach friendly. But when your caught a whiff of potato salad that all seemed to be for nothing. Plugging your nose, you quickly set down your food and sipped at your water to try and keep your stomach from rolling dangerously.

“Do you need Jake?” Dana asked, sitting up.

“You look like you’re going to throw up,” Phoenix added, sharing a look with Dana.

“I’m fine. And stop looking at me like that or Jake is going to notice.”

“I’d make that appointment soon,” Phoenix told you honestly. “Not much gets by him. But don’t tell him I said that.”

“No, you’re right,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair. Staring up at the umbrella over your head, you sunk a bit more into your seat. “I’ll make the appointment.”

~~~~~

“Any allergies?” the nurse asked you.

“No, none,” you replied, sitting up on the exam table of your doctor’s office.

“Any changes to your medication?”

“Nope.”

“When was your last period?”

“I don’t know, probably three weeks ago or something like that,” you replied, not entirely sure. You hardly kept track of it anymore at this stage in your life.

“And any chance that you could be pregnant?” she asked, causing you to shake your head.

“My husband had a vasectomy.”

“But are you still sexually active?”

“Yes.”

“In the last few months?”

“Yes.”

“Then, we’ll need you to take a urine test,” the nurse assistant replied, pulling out a plastic cup from the cupboard. “It’s standard procedure.”

Reluctantly, you took the cup and headed down the hall to the bathroom. After what felt like twenty years, your doctor finally entered your exam room.

“How are we doing today, Mrs. Seresin?”

“I’ve been better,” you replied, swinging your legs back and forth.

“Yes, I understand that.”

Your doctor asked you a series of questions, did a quick physical exam, before returning to the computer in the corner of the room. Typing in your answers and some notes to herself, your doctor turned back to you.

“Well, I think with all of your symptoms and your test results, there’s one clear cause of your illness—you’re pregnant.”

“That’s funny,” you laughed off, but your doctor remained serious.

“Mrs. Seresin, you’re pregnant. Your urine test came back with clear results. Based on your hormone levels, I’d put you somewhere around six to eight weeks.”

“But my husband got a vasectomy,” you insisted, as if that changed anything. “There’s no way that I’m pregnant.”

“Do you use protection with him?”

“No,” you replied, as if it were obvious.

“Might I suggest making an appointment with your obstetrician?” your doctor spoke softly, causing you to sink into your seat.

~~~~~

Making dinner that night, you swore that you weren’t seeing or thinking straight. Your doctor’s words kept echoing around head and stole any smidge of sanity that you maintained. Your kids were running around causing a ruckus as they always were and Jake still wasn’t home, which only added to your inner turmoil.

You hadn’t told Jake about what the doctor told you. It didn’t feel right breaking that kind of news over the phone or text. And frankly, you were torn between stressing about Jake’s reaction to your news and wanting to have the upper hand so that you could jump out strangle him the second that he got home.

“Daddy’s home!” Charlie called, setting off a chain reaction.

You looked up to see the kids run over to the door to greet Jake. Trying to not get too caught up in how excited the kids were to see their dad, you focused on getting the table set up for dinner. The door swung open and Jake stepped inside, immediately dropping his bag and holding out his arms.

“You’re all here for me?” he teased, pulling your three kids in for a hug and kiss. “Well, aren’t I just the luckiest guy?”

Sniffling, you set down the plates full of food for the kids before turning back for the kitchen to get started on the dishes. Jake usually did them after dinner, but you just needed to do something to steady yourself. Jake released your kids, telling them to go and wash their hands, before turning to you.

“Hey, Mama,” he greeted you, playfully tapping your ass. Wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you away from the dishes, he pressed a kiss to your shoulder and then your neck. “How was your day?”

“Oh, I just found out some news,” you replied, seemingly calm.

“What kind of news?” Jake asked curiously.

“The kind that will have you sleeping on the couch tonight,” you stated, a bit more aggravation seeping into your tone.

“What? What’s wrong?” Jake questioned, confused and looking a bit like a kicked puppy with your harsh tone. But that look wasn’t going to do him any favors today.

“You didn’t keep up your end of the deal.”

“Honey, what deal?”

“The one where you promised to not knock me up with another one of your heavy, always late, big-headed children!”

“Wait, you—you’re pregnant?” Jake breathed out, inspecting you closer. “Really?”

“I could easily knee you in the balls right now,” you warned Jake, eyes narrowing. “Maybe I need to since your ‘vasectomy’ clearly didn’t work!”

“What’s with the air quotes?” Jake asked, grabbing your hands. “Honey, you were there.”

“Not in the operating room.”

“Were you supposed to be?”

“Jacob,” you warned him, shooting him a look to shut up.

“Mommy, Liam was trying to eat the soap again,” Charlie complained, causing you to look away from Jake.

“For the love of—Liam, what did I tell you about eating soap?”

“I got this,” Jake told you, turning to walk over to the bathroom. “Just . . . sit down and breathe.”

Jake walked off to grab Liam while you scrubbed away at the dishes again. Charlie sat down at the table, closely followed by Annie and then Jake carried out Liam and sat him in his chair. Turning to see you still erratically scrubbing at the same pot, Jake sighed and approached you. He called your name, but you didn’t look up.

“Honey,” Jake tried again, “let’s just eat and I’m sure that you’re exhausted and probably just want to shower and go to bed.”

“I made an appointment with my obstetrician and with your urologist,” you replied, changing the subject on your husband.

“My urologist?”

“About your ‘vasectomy’,” you stated, adding passive aggressive air quotes again around vasectomy. “It’s in a month.”

“When? I have a bunch of—”

“—I already called your secretary and picked a time that fits into your schedule.” Turning to shoot your husband a look, you wiped off your hands on a towel. “You’re going.”

You stormed past him, leaving no room for argument. Jake winced and watched you walk over to the dinner table with your three kids. And although you looked just about ready to rip his head off and could very possibly read his thoughts, Jake couldn’t help but think about how much better the dining table set would look with six chairs instead of five.

But he wasn’t going to talk about that right now. He wanted to wake up tomorrow morning.

~~~~~

Jake sat on the exam table while you paced around the room with your arms folded across your chest and your purse in the optimal position to swing it and whack your husband. You were already starting to show and your appointment with your obstetrician was the week before. You and the baby were perfectly healthy despite the fact that you were in ‘advanced maternal age.’

Your husband slept on the couch after that appointment too just because you were feeling spiteful about that.

Jake was still dressed in his uniform, on a short break from work to attend this appointment. He met you at the doctor’s office while Dana Fitch invited your kids over for the afternoon. And although he tried to brighten your mood by promising to grab dinner on his way home and maybe something extra, you face was permanently screwed into a frown since you arrived at the office.

A knock on the door caused you to stop pacing and turn as the urologist slowly stepped into the room with a kind smile.

“Mr. and Mrs. Seresin. How are we?”

“Pregnant,” you stated bluntly.

“Yes, I heard. Congratulations,” the urologist replied somewhat awkwardly before taking his seat. “Though I’m assuming you’re wondering how that’s possible.”

“You read my mind,” you responded calmly and not at all sarcastic.

“Well, I should inform you that you’re not the first couple to have a pregnancy after a vasectomy. While it’s not common, it can still happen.”

“And in this case?”

“I’m not entirely sure without any additional tests,” the urologist replied honestly. “And in this case, I think that starting with a sample is the best course of action. Once we have those results, we can discuss whether or not another vasectomy is necessary.”

“Another one?” Jake asked quietly.

But he instantly tried to bite back his words when he caught the way that your head snapped around to shoot him a glare.

“Oh, that must be so inconvenient and painful for you to have to deal with,” you drawled sarcastically, causing Jake to wince.

“Sorry.”

You left the room to let Jake talk with the urologist privately and to check in on the kids. Glancing at the door to make sure that you were in fact gone, the urologist turned to Jake.

“I’m not trying to overstep and cause any trouble but we often ask men in this position if there is any possibility of them wanting a paternity test,” the urologist offered, causing Jake to chuckle.

“Not necessary,” Jake replied, laughing off the absurdity of the urologist’s suggestion. “Just some strong swimmers. That’s all.”

~~~~~

Jake headed out to the parking lot to see you sitting on a bench in the shade of the building, furiously typing away at your phone. Approaching carefully, like he was approaching a wild animal, he slowly sat down beside you.

“They’ll call me back with the results in a few days,” Jake stated, causing you to nod and put away your phone. “Are you okay?”

“I still want to kick you in the balls,” you stated, shooting your husband a look.

“Have I mentioned that I greatly appreciate your restraint?” Jake offered, causing you to scoff. “Honey, I can’t read your mind. Please just tell me what’s bothering you.”

“I just . . . I can’t believe we’re those people,” you sighed, holding a hand to your head.

“What do you mean by those people?”

“You know, those people. Those couples who were dumb enough after having three kids to not know what birth control is. Those couples that can’t keep their hands off of each other and just fuck around like a bunch of animals and there’s evidence for all of it! I mean, who sets out planning to have four kids?”

“Baby, who gives a shit about what other people think about us?” Jake replied seriously, grabbing your hand. “It’s none of their business about how many kids we do or don’t have. And I’m not going to apologize to anyone for maintaining a healthy sex life with my wife after three kids. Are you?”

“No,” you huffed, folding your arms across your chest. “Of course not.” Pausing for a moment, you turned back to Jake. “I kind of rubbed it in stupid Gina Denison’s face that we’re still banging a few days ago.”

Gina Denison was one of the moms of Charlie’s friend group. Her husband was a tool and looked like he hated his life every time he showed up. And Gina was always so flirty with Jake, grabbing his arm and complimenting him on everything, that you contemplated kicking your son’s soccer ball straight into her face.

“She did look pretty glum actually,” Jake mused, rubbing your knee.

“Good.”

“Then what’s there to worry about?” Jake asked, causing you to sigh.

“There’s the whole bedroom situation first of all. Unless we want to turn the guest room into the nursery, the kids are going to have to share.”

“We’ll just convert the playroom upstairs. Easy fix. A new coat of paint and moving some things around and we’re fine.”

“And we can only fit three car seats into the back of your truck.”

“Then we’ll take the other car for family outings,” Jake pointed out softly, rubbing your knee again.

“And Liam’s still coming into our bed most nights. What happens when I’m eight months pregnant and there’s no room?”

“I’ll have a talk with him about it,” Jake offered, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“You’ve talked to him about it a hundred times already. What’s changed?”

“I have my ways.”

And by ‘his ways,’ Jake was quietly referring to the fact that when you were heavily pregnant, you snored. Loudly. And now Jake had never told you that when you were heavily pregnant you snored because he wasn’t an idiot. It was like complaining about how uncomfortable the chairs were in the delivery room. Only a fucking selfish pathetic loser complained about that stuff to his pregnant wife.

And he already had a slip up with the whole second vasectomy thing in there and he was trying to quickly recover from that.

Turning to you and gently cupping your cheek so that you turned to him, Jake leaned in and rested her forehead against your own.

“Honey, you know that I’m here, right? You don’t have to go through this alone and you don’t have to hold all of the stress about it. We’re fine. We have the money. We have the space. We have the extra hands if we need babysitters. And for anything else, just tell me about it. I’m here for you and our four babies. Anything you want, you let me know, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed softly, pressing a kiss to his lips. Smiling up at your husband through your eyelashes, you suddenly grew serious. “I want you to get another vasectomy.”

“Yeah, I thought you were going to say that,” Jake sighed, wincing a bit again.

~~~~~

Jake was turning forty this year. The big 4-0. And it only seemed fitting to him that he got to have his four kids by his side for this birthday. But since it happened to fall on a random Tuesday that Jake had to work, you and the kids just put together a small party for him. You cooked him his favorite dinner and the kids gave him the card that they made for him. And then it was time for the cake.

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday Daddy, Happy Birthday to you!” you and three of your kids sang along.

But little baby Hazel, who was about a year and a half now, was more focused on trying to touch the cake with her finger than singing. Jake smiled and grabbed her hand, shaking it to distract her long enough for you to take a photo.

“Alright, time to blow out the candles!” you called, holding up your phone to take the photo.

“On three,” Jake instructed your kids. “Ready? One . . . two . . . three.”

Your four kids, who were all seated or standing next to Jake, blew out the candles with him. You snapped a few quick photos before putting your phone away. Jake started clapping, causing Hazel to giggle and clap along too. You quickly grabbed the cake and cut it up. Passing around the slices of cake, you smiled and pressed a loving kiss to your husband’s lips.

“Happy Birthday, Jake.”

“Thank you, baby,” he returned, shooting you a wink.

Your kids talked excitedly with Jake about the upcoming weekend. Jake’s parents were flying in for his birthday and you were going to take a short vacation as a family. Jake listened and talked intently with your children before it was time to start the bedtime routines. You and Jake worked together to get Hazel and then Liam and then Annie and Charlie all ready for bed.

And once the kids were all asleep and tucked away for the night, you grabbed Jake by the hand and pulled him into your shared bedroom. In about three seconds flat, you had Jake on his back and straddled him.

“Happy Birthday,” you grinned, pressing a set of needy kisses to his lips.

“Are you my present?” Jake asked coyly, kneading your hips with his hands.

“Sure am, Cowboy,” you replied, pulling off your shirt and tossing it onto the floor. But before you kissed him again, you quickly cursed and got up to lock the door to your bedroom. Smiling apologetically at Jake, you quickly hopped up onto the bed again. “Don’t want to risk the kids walking in on us.”

“It’s my birthday. Tonight, you’re mine. All mine,” Jake agreed, pulling you in for another kiss.

And with assurance that his second vasectomy was successful, you happily started on your birthday gift for him.

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jewishvitya · 6 months

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[This post was originally written in response to someone tagging me and claiming that a free Palestine would mean all Israeli Jews will be kicked out and where will I go, and how they can't understand why I'm so against Israel being our ethnostate. OP blocked me, so I'm reposting with a few edits, because I already wrote this and I might as well.]

Look. I understand your mentality. We're traumatized by a history of violence against us. We were shown that so many in the world want us dead, and so many others won't stop them. I get it. But I refuse to let myself silently become the face of similar oppression for other people.

Israel benefits from antisemitism and maintains myths that got Jewish people killed in the past, like double loyalty. It weaponizes it for propaganda reasons. It's supported by antisemitic Christian zionist organizations with terrifying motivations. It started out with violence not only against Palestinians but against Jews too. Israel isn't motivated by our safety, it abuses that idea. It manipulates and weaponizes our trauma to make us feel justified in causing so much suffering to innocent people.

You're right that I'll have nowhere to go if I'm kicked out of here. This is where I was born. My parents come from other countries that I won't feel safe in. But all of this is hypothetical. The ethnic cleansing and genocide of Palestinians is not hypothetical, it's REALITY. It's happening RIGHT NOW. And I don't understand how, as a Jewish person who knows what this kind of suffering and loss of life means, you seem unable to prioritize that. I tell you I'm witnessing a genocide happening right next to me and you keep telling me "but what if they hurt you instead."

The assumption that Palestinians will pull some sort of reverse ethnic cleansing against us is racist. This assumption is the reason Israel feels comfortable calling the carpet bombing of a civilian population "self defense." Killing them based on a this is not self defense, it's a racially motivated crime against humanity.

And I'm calling it an assumption because I'm not willing to pull from the Hamas charter that they've since replaced. Hamas isn't Palestinians. The only reason they became this powerful is Israeli funding, and Israeli violence giving Hamas free PR as the only ones who will stand up to the state that will keep them trapped and dying.

We control every aspect of their lives. Israel created a place that breeds radicalization. No group of people, living under the conditions forced on Palestinians, would be peaceful. They would fight back. Because peaceful attempts to have the human rights that Israel denies them got nothing. We stomped on every single one. We blocked all other routes and left them with only violence, which Israeli politicians have been using as an excuse for over 15 years to make a show of force with military campaigns whenever they wanted a boost in popularity. We created living conditions with such low life expectancy that half of the population is children because so few adults survive. They don't deserve this. No one deserves this.

Palestine was a land with people living in it. One plot of land can create multiple groups of people, especially when we've been separated for 2000 years. Our connection to this land does not cancel out theirs. Removing them to create our own country could never be right. It's not an argument saying that our connection to Israel gives us the right to move here to live ALONGSIDE Palestinians. That's not what we wanted. We wanted a country that enforces Jewish majority and legally prioritizes Jews. You're justifying this when I repeatedly state that the only way for it to exist is through ethnic cleansing and genocide. There's no way to make this concept into a reality without killing, displacing, and oppressing whoever's left in various different ways, from apartheid to other kinds of discrimination.

I'm not against safety for us. I want to be safe. I want my children to grow in a safe world where we can be openly and joyfully Jewish. I'm not willing to pay for that with the lives and freedoms of other people.

So I will be loud about this: Palestinians deserve to be free in every part of their homeland, even if it's our ancestral homeland too.

If safety for us means we're the ones committing the genocide, maybe we should rethink what safety looks like.

I'm terrified for the lives of millions of people in Gaza. Right now, all I can think about is this, and it baffles me to see people so willing to transfer the horrors of our history to other people.

I had a lovely conversation in DMs in response to the first post, about how zionism encourages us to isolate rather than build bridges in the places where we live all over the world. We can't ignore the way antisemitism saturates culture, but we should also remember the places where Jewish communities thrived for centuries, the places where our neighbors protected us. We're hated, and we're loved. Each form of oppression is unique, so no other group experiences what Jewish people do exactly, but we're not alone. We have a long and rich history of solidarity with other marginalized communities and involvement in liberation movements. We're actively working to make the world safer, and we have people fighting with us. I'm just participating in this fight where I am. The struggle for liberation is a human struggle. You can't use the trauma of antisemitism to silence me about other kinds of bigotry.

Never again. To ANYONE.

#riki babbles

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weirdmarioenemies · 13 days

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Name: Baboom

Debut: Super Mario Bros. Wonder

Baboom is my number one favorite new enemy from Wonder! In the days after the game's release, I was extra careful during what felt like the eternity before I got to play it myself (it was a week at most.) to not spoil anything for myself, and I succeeded, mostly! Yippee! And while I was playing through the beginning of the game, at least three friends all individually told me there was one enemy that they felt I would absolutely love. And they were right!

Let me tell you. I gasped when I saw it. I gasped when I saw this little waddling plastic tube. You know me! I do things like that. Its pure white eyes. Its adorable little trot. Its use of primary colors like some kind of baby's toy. But don't give it to a baby! This is explosive! You also shouldn't give any living creature to a baby! Why would you do that? You should be giving it some mashed carrots instead.

Speaking of babies though, it is Baboom who is the baby here, because it is canonically the newest of the living bombs produced by Bowser's Minions! What a little darling! It may be a little unclear what exactly it does at first, but when attacked, Baboom will begin shooting fireworks directly upward, one for each body segment! This "uses up" each segment, including the last one, but they don't actually explode themselves. Do you think they can still live after this? A "spent" Baboom, a single red segment, living a peaceful life wherever it landed? That would be nice.

I hate fireworks. Far too loud and bright. But Baboom makes it fun! It can be carried, and its fireworks used as an upward attack, defeating enemies, breaking blocks, and making coins fall! It is so enriching to shoot upwards in a Mario game. These fireworks cannot hurt the player, which seems like a big problem for a weapon made to fight Mario. An enemy that defeats enemies, and does not hurt our heroes? My word! Can this be? The classic and beloved story trope of a weapon made for evil rebelling against the circumstances of its creation? Hooray! Who says Mario games don't have complex stories? Look at the motivation I personally ascribed to this one disposable bomb. What are the other enemies thinking at any given time? There's surely a stunning story in every Snortoise!

Wonder has all these cute little animations for enemies bumping into each other, and Babooms will do a little... nod? toward one another when they meet! It's hard to tell if it is a nod given its anatomy, but whatever it is, I think it is saying "hello my friend!"

I would be remiss to talk about Baboom without mentioning Kab-omb, the ORIGINAL firework Bob-omb variant! I like Baboom more, but I hold a lot of respect for Kab-omb. A bomb just looking for a kiss, or maybe a glass of chocolate milk with a bendy straw. Is that so wrong?

#baboom #super mario bros wonder #kab-omb #mario #mario enemies #mod chikako

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foldingfittedsheets · 25 days

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One of my favorite adventures from my twenties was a trip I took alone up to Canada. Neil Gaiman was doing a reading for the release of Ocean at the End of the Lane, and I was living three hours south of the venue.

None of my friends could make it and it was before I had GPS but I decided to go by myself. The day before the event I had nightmares about being lost in Canada, but I woke up and still got in the car.

The drive was awful, and I clutched the printed out Mapquest directions like my life depended on it, lurching through stop and go traffic with my manual transmission car. But when I arrived I found parking easily. I had tried to be there early but between traffic and the border crossing I was barely on time.

When I got to the door it turned out there wasn’t any seating left. My face fell, and the lovely worker refused to let me go away disappointed. She snuck me into the area reserved for staff to watch the event.

I sat oddly isolated in the very back row, listening to Neil’s calm narration. Midway through a boy my age came over to join me. We chatted while the line moved to get things signed. He lived in China, and India, went to school in Scotland, and was here couch surfing just for this event.

He asked about my YouTube channel and I laughed and said I didn’t have one. He paused in confusion and said, “You should, you’re such a gifted storyteller!” Later his certainty that I had one made me imagine he was a multidimensional traveler and this iteration of me didn’t have a channel that he was familiar with on his world.

I got my copy of the book signed and we left together. We wandered the city at night, making our way toward the ocean. We were both surprised to have our way blocked not once but three times by skunks, wandering blithely through the metropolis.

We clambered over the breakers by the water, watching the boats and listening to the waves crash at our feet. I offered him a lift back to his couch and he agreed.

I got lost trying to find the way home, well off my printed directions. My nightmare had come true, but at 2am lost in a foreign city I had a feeling of serenity that everything would be okay.

I pulled up next to some mildly intoxicated guys walking along, asking if they knew the way. Later, relaying this story to my wife they were appalled by this decision. But a moment later a cop car interrupted us, clearly thinking something illegal was transpiring. I flashed my dimples and asked for directions and he set me back on the right path.

I only spent one night carousing, but I still think about that boy, hoping he’s doing well. I remember the surreal peace of the sleeping city, full of skunks and waves on the breakers.

#ramblies #story #writing #I know that he asked me for a kiss down by the water #but I can’t remember if I gave him one #I don’t think so but I might have just for the laugh and the night of adventure

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anonymousewrites · 2 months

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Nature of the Human Soul (Book 1) Chapter Four

Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader

Chapter Four: New Hotel Guest

Summary: An unusual demon decides to come to the Hotel.

Charlie, having spent the afternoon trying to get people to come to the hotel, crashed onto the couch of the lobby. She literally couldn’t go on after such a disappointing experience.

“So, how’d it go?” said Angel.

Vaggie sighed. “Not a single new recruit.”

“Yeah. Well, who would want to use their last days not fucking and fighting?” said Angel.

Something banged on the front door, and everyone paused to glance at it. Vaggie approached and opened it. Sir Pentious stood outside with his hat in his hands and an awkward smile.

“Why, hello, my dear—Wait, wait, wait!” Pentious backed up as Vaggie whipped out her spear to point at him. “I come in peace!”

“What are you doing here?!” snapped Vaggie.

“Vaggie, what’s the problem?” sighed Charlie, dragging herself to the door. She gasped as she saw Pentious. “Oh, hello again!”

“I didn’t come looking for a fight!” said Pentious instantly. “I, uh, I heard that you’re helping people. People who want to be better?”

“You heard right!” said Charlie excitedly. “Welcome to our home of healing. Our resort of restoration. Our—”

“Are you fucking nuts?” Angel blocked the entrance of the hotel before Charlie could bring Pentious inside. “That chump was trying to kill us, like, literally six hours ago. And now you want to bring him in here to live with us?!”

“Absolutely!” said Charlie. “This place is about second chances! And who deserves one more than this…slithery…slippery…special little man.”

“Do you want to rephrase that and make him sound any less suspicious?” said (Y/N), narrowing their eyes as they looked at Pentious.

“He’s fine,” said Charlie brightly.

(Y/N) looked at Vaggie. “Can’t you throw him out or something? Protect the hotel?”

Charlie gave Vaggie puppy-eyes before Vaggie could say no. She sighed. “I…guess he’s not much of a threat without the war machine. Or even with the war machine.”

Pentious deflated at not being thought a threat.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” said Charlie, hugging Vaggie. “Sir Pentious, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

“Oh, no, darling, thank you!” said Pentious. “You won’t regret this.” He walked inside behind Charlie.

Angel and (Y/N) narrowed his eyes.

“I’m going to kill him if he tries anything,” muttered (Y/N).

“Charlie won’t like that.” Angel looked at them. “And can you even control your abilities?”

“I don’t need magic. I’d be angry enough,” said (Y/N).

“Fair enough,” said Angel. “I give him a week tops.”

“So, this is the bar and the bartender,” said Charlie, bringing Pentious into the lobby. “This is the curtain, and this is the new wall after you break the last one, heh, and, oh, this, this is—”

“Babe, you don’t have to show him every detail,” said Vaggie.

“Sorry, I’m just so excited to have our first real guest!” said Charlie.

“Uh, what the hell are (Y/N) and I then?” said Angel, crossing his arms.

“Well, you’re an important part of our family here, Angel,” said Charlie, smiling. “But you, um, uh…”

“Constantly make us look bad, sexually harass the staff, and have literally never once tried to improve?” suggested Vaggie.

“I haven’t done any of that,” said (Y/N).

“You don’t care about what you did in life,” said Vaggie, putting her hands on her hips.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t support you,” said (Y/N).

“And you just agreed to let Alastor teach you to use magic,” said Vaggie.

“Personally, I think that’s a great idea for myself,” said (Y/N), smiling.

Vaggie groaned.

“What she means is, it’s just nice to have someone more actively interested for once,” said Charlie with a smile.

Angel’s smile fell, and (Y/N) frowned. They hadn’t done anything bad since arriving in Hell. And, yes, they weren’t sure about how this experiment would work, but if anyone could do it, (Y/N) thought Charlie could help people. That had to count for something.

…Alright, maybe (Y/N) could be doing more, but in their defense, (Y/N) never got to have any fun in life, so they were just trying to enjoy themself in death.

“Over here we have our maid, Niffty,” said Charlie.

“The bad boy is back!” said Niffty, running up to Pentious. She jumped onto him and grabbed the lapels of his shirt. “Never leave me again.”

“We’re about eighty percent sure she’s harmless,” said Charlie, laughing nervously. “And over here we have—Oh, uh, Alastor!” The Radio Demon had come to the lobby. “—Our gracious Facility Manager.” Charlie cleared her throat. “You’ve met our newest guest, Sir Pentious…”

“Ah, yes. You’re the one who ruined my coat.” Alastor’s grin sharpened. I definitely remember you now.”

Charlie interceded before any violence could occur. “Well, I guess this is a great time for your first lesson.” She cleared her throat. “ ‘How to apologize.’ ” She smiled at Pentious. “The first step to becoming a better person is to admit when you are wrong. Why don’t you give it a try?”

This is gonna be good, thought (Y/N).

“Yes, um…Mr. Um, Radio Demon, sir, please forgive me for attacking you and ruining your very lovely coat…” Pentious smiled nervously and held up a small scrap of cloth. “Um, here.”

Alastor took the scrap. “Oh-ho, not many people have been able to take even this much off me. It must have meant quite a lot to you.” Green flames ate up the cloth while everyone stared. Alastor grinned.

Charlie decided to call a hotel meeting before anything else could go astray with the new addition to the guests.

“Now, with a new resident, I think it’s important we all get to know each other, so we are going to play a little game,” said Charlie. “Everyone, follow me! My name is Charlie.” She clapped twice. “I like to sing.” Two claps. “And when we get to know each other, it’s the greatest thing.” Two claps. Charlie smiled and gestured to Pentious.

“My name’s Sir Pentious,” said Pentious. He clapped awkwardly. “I like to build.” Two claps. “And despite my stupid Egg Bois, I think I’m very skilled.” He clapped.

Charlie gestured at Angel, and he deadpanned. “This is stupid.”

“This is not stupid, it’s just the game,” said Charlie, clapping and singing. “Sir Pentious did it well, so now please try to do the same.”

“I am too sober for this,” said Angel.

“I can’t make up a rhyme on the spot,” said (Y/N). They attempted a welcoming smile to make Charlie happy. “But I’m (Y/N).”

In Charlie’s next attempt at bonding, she put together a skit for Angel and Pentious to perform. It was, of course, cheesy.

“ ‘Oh, I’m a bad man on the streets who never got enough hugs,’ ” said Angel. “ ‘Now, where’s an innocent kid I can sell crack to?’ Wow, who wrote this?”

“It’s great, right?! Keep going,” said Charlie excitedly.

“ ‘Hey, you!’ ” said Angel to Pentious, dressed as a stereotypical kid.

“Who, me?” said Pentious, licking a lollipop.

“ ‘Yeah, you look like a kid who could use some devil’s dandruff,’ ” said Angel, deadpan. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“Not me, I have to go home and study,” said Pentious proudly.

“ ‘Come on, kid. It’ll make you cool like me. The crack head,’ ” said Angel.

“The only cool thing here is to say no to drugs,” said Pentious. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to not have sexual intercourse before marriage.”

“Oh, bravo, bravo!” said Charlie, clapping. “Wow, Pentious, at this rate you’ll be redeemed in no time.”

I don’t think we have this to a science, thought (Y/N).

“I…I’m going to bed,” said Angel suddenly, walking away.

“I am so proud of you, Sir Pentious,” said Charlie. “That was amazing!”

“Thank you,” said Pentious.

Angel’s face fell, and he took his leave before his disappointment grew. He wasn’t working as hard as Pentious, and while he was being redeemed, Charlie was leaving Angel behind.

(Y/N) watched him go and frowned. Hopefully, he’d feel better soon.

“(Y/N),” said Alastor.

“Yeah?” said (Y/N).

“I believe we should begin your training,” said Alastor. His grin widened. “This will be quite entertaining.”

(Y/N) had a feeling that meant just for him, but, hey, they were willing to do what it took to get stronger. (Y/N) needed to be strong.

“Focus,” said Alastor.

(Y/N) narrowed their eyes on the roses growing in front of them. “It’s kind of hard with you interrupting me.”

Alastor waved his staff, and recordings of various broadcasts played around him. “Hell is the land of interruptions and distractions. You must be able to work through everything if you are to have skill.”

(Y/N) bit their lip and opted to focus on the plants. Alastor was right. They couldn’t argue with him; they needed to get stronger. Hell wasn’t going to be kind to them. It was up to them to grow strong enough to protect themself.

Alastor watched their roses grow and the briars twist into thorny traps. He wasn’t ordinarily the type to teach or to help anyone, but this could prove useful. After seven years, times had changed in Hell. Alastor needed to ensure his power was recuperated and held onto, so if this young, naïve demon could prove powerful and teachable (manipulatable), then Alastor would “help” them. Then, they could help him.

(Y/N) had crashed into their bed after training with Alastor. It had been exhausting, but (Y/N) had started to be able to summon their magic, which appeared to take the form of plants—roses and briars. No matter how tired they were, getting stronger was worth it.

“You slippery little shit!”

A shout from Angel woke (Y/N) up, and they rolled out of bed quickly. Moving into the hall, they saw Angel glaring at Pentious as he cowered nervously.

“You’re working for the Vees?!” snapped Angel. “I fucking knew there was something shitty about you!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” denied Pentious. “Whorebug!” He hissed out the word, and Angel tackled him in anger.

“Whoa, Angel!” said (Y/N), reaching out a hand.

Vines split the ground, grabbed Pentious and Angel, and dragged them apart before they could do any more damage to one another.

“What’s going on?” said Charlie, yawning as she appeared behind them.

“This little bitch is a traitor!” said Angel.

“Preposterous!” said Pentious. “I would never betray you. You…are my best friends.”

“Explain the camera you brought in,” hissed (Y/N), glaring and gesturing to Angel, who, equally pissed, picked up the tech in question.

Charlie and Vaggie gasped, and Pentious flinched.

“Ah! Abort, abort!” he cried, slithering towards the window. “SOS! Agent Pentious in need of immediate evacuation!” He looked at his wrist, revealing a watch with Vox’s face on it.

“Pentious? Wait, you were caught?” said Vox. He laughed. “It hasn’t even been a day!”

“Please, you’ve got to get me out of here,” said Pentious.

“I can’t believe we thought you could handle even something this simple,” said Vox. “Do us a favor, if they don’t kill you, go ahead and do it yourself, you miserable failure.”

Pentious stared at the watch, tears collecting in his eyes. “I…I…” He threw the watch to the ground and faced the group. “Just make it quicky, I guess.” He sniffled, stifling his sobs. “Not that I deserve it.” He curled up on the ground.

“Gladly,” said Vaggie, hoisting her spear.

“Wait.” Charlie pushed the spear back. “Pentious?” She extended a hand. Pentious looked at her questioningly.

(Charlie) “It starts with sorry.”

She helped Pentious stand.

(Charlie) “That’s your foot, in the door. One simple sorry, Spoken straight from your core.”

She touched his chest, and Pentious’s eyes widened.

(Charlie) “The path to forgiveness, Is a twisting trail of hearts, But sorry is where it starts.”

Pentious stared at her, tears still in his eyes.

(Pentious) “Who could forgive a dirtbag like me, I don’t deserve your amnesty.” (Vaggie, Angel, (Y/N)) “Can’t we just kill him?! Shoot him and spill his blood?”

Vaggie held her spear tightly, Angel pulled out guns, and (Y/N)’s vines reacted to their emotions.

(Charlie) “That’s an option you could choose.” (Vaggie, Angel, (Y/N)) “Works for us.” (Charlie) “But who hasn’t been in his shoes?”

She smiled at Pentious, stepped past the group trying to attack, and extended a hand to him.

(Charlie) “It starts with sorry.”

Pentious took her hand.

(Pentious) “Sorry.” (Charlie) “Dig down deeper and say, One sincere sorry.”

Pentious looked at Angel, Vaggie, and (Y/N) earnestly.

(Pentious) “I’m so sorry!” (Charlie) “And your journey’s underway.” (Charlie, Pentious) “It’ll take time to cover. Your/my vast multitude of sins, But sorry is where it begins, It starts with sorry.”

The song ended, and Charlie and Pentious smiled at each other. (Y/N) tilted their head. It actually seemed like Pentious was being honest. He was…changing.

“I hated that song!” said Niffty, breaking the moment. “Why are you so lame?” She kicked Pentious’s tail. “Not a bad boy.”

“Good first day,” said Charlie, still smiling gently. “Let’s get some rest.”

She walked out of the room, Vaggie by her side. Angel gave a final glare at Pentious but walked out. (Y/N) followed but kept their eyes on Pentious.

Can people actually change? (Y/N) hadn’t seen that in their life. But…maybe they just hadn’t seen the right people…

Taglist:

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@theyaremorethanjustfictional

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shares-a-vest · 9 months

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'i have writer's block', i say as i go back to a little ficlet i've had sitting in my drafts for months and immediately turn into 1.4k...

Summer, 1995

Wayne Munson's hearing isn't what it used to be, but he is almost certain he can hear a steady stream of cooing sounds coming from Eddie's bedroom.

He frowns and looks at his watch.

It's only 6:30am.

He yawns at the early hour as he shuffles to the kitchen for his prized coffee pot. And gosh darn it, he thinks. He really didn't want to be on a shiftwork sleep schedule while the boys are visiting with his granddaughter.

"Joanie-Bear..."

"Joanie-Bolonge..."

Yep – that is definitely Eddie with one of his silly pet names and a high-pitched sing-song voice.

Wayne can't help but stifle a chuckle as he fetches a clean mug from the drying rack on the sink. He's never known Eddie to wake up this early. Not even back when Steve moved in with his militant morning routine of jogging-showering-breakfast, all before Eddie's third alarm finally rustled him semi-conscious.

He sets his mug down with a clang on the bench as the incessant beeping of Eddie's blasted wristwatch sounds through his waning eardrums. He wishes he'd never bought the thing (in his futile efforts to make his nephew punctual) in the first place.

But the distant memory of Eddie's useless watch is quickly replaced with the disgruntled wailing of Joanie – a living, breathing tiny-human alarm that will surely be more than effective in getting his nephew up at a decent hour. For the next few years, at least.

He foregoes a courteous knock and opens the bedroom door to find Eddie sitting at the end of the bed with Steve in his lap as they both look into the crib that contains the source of the ruckus.

"What are you boys doing?" Wayne asks with fond amusement.

"Saying good morning to the light of our lives," Steve says, all syrupy-sweet as he reaches down and makes a shushing noise.

Wayne steps closer, smiling as he catches sight of his granddaughter.

"Hey, darling."

Joanie smiles so wide her eyes crinkle up, cheeks growing rosier as she kicks her feet with such vigour she could tear straight through her yellow onesie.

"We were basking in the peace and quiet," Eddie explains with an adoring sigh, "Gotta relish it before this little bean starts going about her busy day of toddling, talking and getting stinky."

"Talking?" Wayne is very much aware he sounds disappointed.

"Bee-shabba-fur," Eddie turns to Steve with complete seriousness, punctuating his babble-talk with a hand flourish.

"Eepa-nann-ca," Steve agrees, nodding up at Wayne like he is supposed to chime in.

He smiles, "I don't think you should be accusing anyone of being stinky, Eddie. I remember you at her age all too clearly."

His nephew frowns and hides behind Steve's shoulder to shield himself from any more barbs, even though his boy claps a hand over his own mouth to contain his laughter.

"A... app-ess," Joanie babbles and excitedly kicks her feet again.

"That means applesauce," Steve nods as Joanie starts grumbling again and makes grabby hands in the air.

"Looks like she's expecting that applesauce right now," he warns the pair as he scoops her up.

"But – " Steve protests.

"Shh," Eddie cuts him off as his eyes get all droopy, "Let him take her."

Wayne rolls his eyes.

Alright, so maybe Eddie still isn't a morning person. Parenthood has just forced it on him.

"Come on, kid," he says as his granddaughter cranes her neck to look out expectantly at the kitchen.

Although he is thrilled to have a whole two weeks with the boys and Joanie, the trio being back in Hawkins means that Wayne has to share them with others, including the Hendersons. Call him selfish, but he'd much prefer to just stay at home all day than pack half the house into the car for the short trip across town for lunch.

As Steve opens the car door to sit with Joanie, she grumbles and squirms, whipping her head about. Wayne dips his head to get a look at the fuss she beams, making an eh noise at the sight of him. He barks a laugh as she swivels to look at her father, her hair fashioned into two not-so-small buns giving her a disproportionate bobblehead.

"You want Pa to sit with you?" Steve asks the kid.

She shoots Steve a look like she is desperate for him to vacate the seat.

"You drive," Wayne nods, ensuring they arrange something before Eddie insists on driving.

He really doesn't feel like getting car sick before a Claudia Henderson-catered lunch.

With Steve safely driving, and Eddie being distracted by some local council drama playing out over the talk-back hour on the radio, Wayne can relax.

That is until he feels a little paw clawing at his hand.

"You wanna hold my hand," he asks Joanie as he offers his palm.

"Eh-ep...ish," she stutters out all spittle-filled.

"That means 'yes please'," Eddie chimes, leaning into the crackling radio as he scoffs at the disc jockey's quip.

Wayne chuckles, "Figured that."

He looks down to find Joanie now tracing the many lines on his palm. She's in a state of deep concentration, leaning as far forward as her car seat straps will allow as she goes.

She soon takes his thumb in her hand, clenching her fist around it as she grows tired, most likely due to the bumps in the road interrupting her tracing game rather than any actual sleepiness. Wayne can feel her soft fingertips press against the callous on his knuckle. She freezes and unfurls her hand to examine it.

She looks up with the same confused frown Eddie always had as a kid, her big brown eyes clearly expressing thoughts that she can't yet put into words. But she is most definitely thinking away in that little noggin.

She presses her forefinger to the callous to poke at it.

"Got a lot of those, I'm afraid," he explains, "Too tough for your hands."

She looks him over, eyes darting about as she opens her mouth like she is readying herself to respond.

For a moment, he thinks she might not have a damn clue, but then she takes his thumb again and pulls it close. He has to shift a little so his hand isn't twisting on the edge of the baby seat but sure enough, Joanie holds his hand for the remainder of the ride.

When they reach the Hendersons, Claudia announces she already has lunch well underway. She and Wayne think alike when Joanie is around. Rush through all that boring grown-up stuff to get straight to playtime with the kid.

Steve is going about his usual routine, carrying his daughter around the house to give her a tour while the others make the finishing touches on lunch.

Though Wayne is sure Eddie and Dustin are each sneaking samples and more getting in the way than actually helping. He smirks at the sound of something clanging in the kitchen and Claudia giving a scolding, "Dusty!" as he rounds the corner to the dining room.

Steve is walking around the table with Joanie in his arms, counting the chairs aloud. But Joanie isn't listening. She spots Wayne and beams.

"Pa!"

His heart stops – or maybe it swells.

Joanie outstretches her hands as she tries to wiggle out of her father's grip. And Steve, the poor boy, looks shell-shocked. He blinks, eyes as wide as Claudia's special-occasion dinner plates.

"Eh-Eddie!" Steve half stutters, half shrieks as tears begin to well up.

"What, what, what?" his nephew panics, walking in from the kitchen cradling a gravy boat like his hands are too full for anything else.

He walks right up to Steve and practically hooks his chin on his shoulder. Eddie frowns at his partner. And Joanie just keeps squirming, now turning her attention to her father.

"Pa!" she whines through a frustrated little hiccup as she points across the room.

Eddie yelps and cups a hand over his mouth.

Thankfully, Wayne doesn't hear the sound of the gravy boat dropping onto the freshly-vacuumed carpet. He doesn't even look to make sure. He's far too focused on his granddaughter.

"She said her first word," Steve whispers like he has a frog in his throat.

Joanie did say her first word.

Wayne's granddaughter said her first word.

And her first word referred to him.

Her Pa.

His bottom lip wobbles as they lock eyes once more.

But the moment is short-lived as the kid resumes wriggling about, pushing against Steve's possessive hold with some real force this time as she balls up a fistful of her father's pale blue polo shirt.

"Pa!" she dry-sobs.

Wayne shakes his head and steps forward. He'll have to save the serious emotions and a doting session with the boys for later if they want to avoid a catastrophic meltdown right now. He beams as he rushes the couple of strides it takes to reach his cranky granddaughter, who remains completely unaware of the marvel that has everyone at a useless standstill.

"Better do as she says," he laughs, taking her from Steve.

The boy has no choice but to give her up.

Joanie almost jumps into his embrace as she hooks her arms in a vice-like grip around his neck. Wayne looks at the boys, apologetic as he bounces his granddaughter.

Not that she needs settling now, anyway.

More of this au HERE

#haven't written something for this au for a while #woke up at 4am and decided to finish this #steddie as girl-dads #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #wayne munson #claudia henderson #dustin henderson #lily writes a fic

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imaginespazzi · 8 days

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Forget jealous Paige, how do we think poor KK's dealing with the fact that her father and sister were literally vibing to her song WITHOUT her 😭

Alright unserious unedited chaotic family drabble because I feel like procrastinating. Like I'm not even joking this is the most random thing I've ever written so read at your own discretion:

It's way too early in the morning when Paige's phone rings, making both her and Ice groan.

"KK what the fuck," Paige asks groggily, wiping at bleary eyes as a furious KK's face fills her phone screen.

"You said you didn't have a favorite child. LIAR," KK yells.

"Oh my god KK," Ice whines from across the room, "please shut the fuck up. My head is pounding."

"GOOD! TO MY SONG?" KK pays no attention, still as loud as ever, "HOW COULD YOU? BOTH OF YOU FUCKING TRAITORS."

"Bro you knew we were going," Paige sighs, sitting up properly.

"That's not the point. You know what give me one second. AZZI. AZZI. AZZI," and then KK's off running, blurry on Paige's screen as she yells for Azzi.

"Oh my god what? What?" Azzi's concerned voice comes through the phone, a smile replacing her frown when KK thrusts the phone in her face, "oh, hi P!"

Before a now grinning Paige can reply, KK cuts her off, "no! Don't hi P her. Did you see Ice's live? They been having the time of our lives without us. THEY WERE VIBING TO MY SONG. MY SONG AZZI!"

"Uh they're quite literally there to get drunk and party, we knew this," Azzi says, trying to hide a smile.

"Again not the point," KK sighs exasperatedly.

"What is the point KK," Paige asks with a tired yawn, "get to it then."

"The point is that you two are getting divorced and I'm finding myself a new stepfather. I will not be tolerating this disrespect," KK says firmly.

"Excuse me," Paige says shrilly, "I do not agree to a divorce."

"You don't have to. Mothers do what's best for their children and Azzi's gonna do what's best for me. Right Azzi?" KK glares at Azzi who sighs exasperatedly.

"You're both aware that you're not actually my husband and child right?"

"Excuse you," Paige screeches at the same time as KK gasps dramatically and Azzi has to mentally prevent herself from sighing again.

"Okay alright, divorce yes okay," Azzi gives in, KK squeals and this time Paige is glaring.

"Wow. It's that easy huh? Guess all of those years meant nothing to you."

Azzi shakes her head, trying to hide her smile at Paige's mock offense.

"And now to find a stepfather," KK says triumphantly and then her eyes light up with a glint as a blonde walks in, "KATE!"

Kate looks like a deer caught in the headlight as she walks cautiously towards an over-excited KK and a slightly mortified Azzi, "uhhh hi?"

"I have a very important question for you Kate," KK says with all the seriousness of the world, "are you married?"

"Uh....no?" Kate answers, confused at that line of questioning, as Azzi hides her face in her palms.

"KK what the fuck are you doing?" Paige yells at her phone, suddenly very unamused by this whole thing.

"Ssssh P-boogers, I'm about to perform a wedding."

"Umm what?" poor Kate asks, looking at Azzi for help, not used to the insanity that is the UConn women's team. To be honest, she's not fully sure if all of this is a joke.

"You and Azzi are getting married and then you're going to adopt me," KK says firmly.

"I swear we're normal people....most of the time," Azzi tries to reassure Kate.

"Dearly beloved, or unbeloved since it's Paige and Ice, I guess, we are here today to marry these two women," KK begins and then looks at Azzi and Kate who are standing a feet apart, "uh hello? You have to hold hands."

Paige splutters, "Martin I don't know you that well but if you hold her hand I swear to God."

"Oh calm down ex-father," KK fires back, "let me get my new parents married in peace. Now since there are no objections-"

"I OBJECT," Paige yells, turning to a sleeping Ice who's trying to block out the noise using a pillow, "ICE your mother is getting married to someone else, get the fuck up and come here and object with me."

"Your objections don't count because you're liars and traitors. MY SONG. MY FUCKING SONG."

"Bro you're all I was thinking about I swear," Paige pleads, "after every Bow, I was like oh my god KK would have loved this. I missed you every second I'm sorry."

"Sorry is not good enough," KK says petulantly.

"I got you a signed autograph. It was gonna be a surprise but you need to know. I swear KK, I would have had so much more fun if it was with you bro. It just wasn't the same."

"Oh that makes me feel great. Thanks Paige." Ice mumbles from under the sheets.

"ONE MAD CHILD AT A TIME THANK YOU," Paige says exasperatedly.

KK contemplates Paige's words for a moment before turning to Kate.

"I'm sorry Kate. It looks like this wedding can't go on. It's not you. It's us. Hope you understand," she says with a solemn expression, "but I already have a father and she's great. A little stupid sometimes but great."

Kate nods dumbstruck, unsure what had just happened in the last couple of minutes but she's pretty sure she's just been dismissed.

"FATHER," KK yells turns her face back to her phone, "I missed you. Let's never fight again. That was the worst 10 minutes of my life."

"SON SON," Paige shouts with glee, "let's never do that again."

Azzi pinches the bridge of her nose, wondering how she'd let this become her life.

"If the two of you are done, can I go back to rehab now?" she asks with a raised eyebrow.

Paige narrows her eyes at Azzi through the phone, "were you about to get married to someone else?"

Oh boy here we go again

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #kk arnold #ice brady #kate martin #this is literally the most unserious thing ever like idek what was going through my brain #inspired by all the unseriousness from the weekend i gues #wcbb

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081314 · 5 months

Text

Book 7: The Ruler of the Abyss – Chapter 6 (Part 2)

Following is part 2 of my translation of Chapter 6 of Book 7: The Ruler of the Abyss. This part contains Episode 7-89 to 7-94.

Main storyline spoilers after the cut.

Episode 7-89

Lilia: We finally…. made it… There’s Black Scale Castle!

Yuu: So this is where Tsunotarou grew up!

Imperial Guard C: Garururu! Gaaaaa!

Imperial Guard A: Kukeeee!!

Lilia: Forget about me! The egg… We need to get the egg to the castle! Please, go tell Queen Maleficia to prepare cradle tower… and hurry!

Imperial Guard C / A: Gyaoou!!

(The guards depart)

Lilia: Ugh…!

(Lilia collapses)

Baul: General! Someone, fetch a doctor!! He needs medical attention now!!

Lilia: I don’t need a damn doctor. I fulfilled the princess’s imperial decree… And I’m going back to the Verdant Moors…!

Baul: You idiot! It’s beyond reckless for you to return to the battlefield in your condition!

(Lightning flashes)

Everyone: !?

Sebek: What was that!? The sky to the east, it’s glowing all of a sudden…

Lilia: That light… No, it can’t be…!!

Land of Briar – Land near Castle

Meleanor (Dragon form): ROOOOOAAAAR!!

Iron One A: Aauuugh!!

Iron One B: That blasted witch! I can’t believe she still has the strength left to fight, we’ve hit her with everything we’ve got! And now she’s covered the sky with her black magic, and blocked off all our escape routes with those awful thorns… She truly is the definition of evil…!

Iron One C: There’s no telling how many of our comrades she’s taken out already. We can’t let her reign of terror continue one second longer. WE’LL FELL THAT FOUL BEAST HERE AND NOW!

Iron Ones: Uooooooooh!!!

Meleanor (Dragon form): ROOOOARRR!!

Knight of Dawn: …Haaah… hahhh…. Just where did we go wrong. If we’d only tried to understand each other better, to work together more… Then perhaps we all could have lived in peace. But I-… But we choose to go down this path, instead. We’ve hurt each other so much, lost so many of our dear friends… There’s no turning back now. I know I cannot ask for your forgiveness, but please… Please just let me have my dream. Let me dream of a world where all species, not just human and face… can smile together. And may my dream… become reality someday. ….Fairy guardians… LEND ME YOUR STRENGTH!

Land of Briar – Maleficia’s Castle

Sebek: The storm has ended, and those black clouds have vanished…

Silver: …It’s the dawn.

Lilia: Ah…. Aaaah…Ahhhhh…!!!

(Lilia falls to his knees)

Silver: General Vanrouge!?

Baul: No, that’s absurd!! It- It can’t be…!!!

Sebek: Sir Baul, just what is going on!?

Baul: Lady Meleanor’s magic, it’s…. it’s gone.

Sebek / Silver: ….!!

Lilia: Meleanor…. MELEANOOOR! If I were only stronger, I would’ve made you come with us….! Why…! Just why…! Levan… I couldn’t… I couldn’t keep our promise…! GOD DAMMMIIIIIIIIT!!

Episode 7-90

Lilia: Levan… I couldn’t… I couldn’t keep our promise…! GOD DAMMMIIIIIIIIT!!

Mysterious Voice: What is the meaning of this… Princess Meleanor has returned to the stars….

Mysterious Voice: She never backed down before the humans, not once. Oh, how noble she was! The very pride of the followers of the night!

Mysterious Voice: Rest in peace, dear child of the night.

Mysterious Voices: The night’s blessing upon ye.

Grim: The heck’s goin’ on? I hear voices whisperin’ in my ears, but there’s nobody here.

Baul (whispering): …It’s the senate.

Sebek (whispering): The senate!? I’ve heard though their bodies have returned to the stars, they linger in this world as naught but consciousnesses.

Lilia: ….Meleanor was noble? She was our pride? Bullshit! That’s all a fucking load of bullshit!! The hell does any of that even fucking matter now, she’s gone…!

Senate Member A: Shut your vile little mouth, you lowly bat. Have you no shame! You left the princess behind on the battlefield and slunk back here all by yourself…! You couldn’t protect the princess, yet you dare call yourself an Imperial Guard! Shame on you for running away!

Senate Member C: Ahh, dear princess…. The poor thing, to be stuck with a subordinate too daff to comprehend the fae’s pride…

Senate Member D: I warned her time and time again: a dirty little bat has no business at a dragon’s side.

Senate Member E: You returned the Draconia family’s kindness with ingratitude…. You good-for-nothing!

Baul: Please, wait! The General was protecting the heir under an imperial decree from Princess Meleanor…!

Lilia: …Stop, Baul. The high elders are right. From hereon I….. I resign from the Imperial Guard. I relinquish my title as General of the Right. My subordinates were just following my orders. I humbly ask if you could be… lenient in your judgement.

Senate Member F: You aren’t just going to lose your title - you’re never stepping foot within the capital again!

Senate Member G: Hurry up and get your filthy hands off the heir’s egg! You repulse me!

Yuu: But he was just trying to protect Tsunotarou!

Grim: What the- The egg slipped outta Lilia’s arms an’ now it’s floatin’ in the air!

Baul (whispering): Damnit… Damn that blasted senate!

Baul: Please, wait! Princess Meleanor instructed the general to hatch the egg if she failed to return! And even our distinguished senate cannot defy an imperial decree, you all know that!

(Mallyegg floats away and vanishes in a burst of light)

Lilia: ……Farewell, Malleus.

Baul: Ah! G-General! Where are you going!? Are you turning your back on Princess Meleanor’s decree!?

Lilia: …I’m not an Imperial Guard anymore, Baul. Her decree has nothing to do with me now.

Baul: But…!

Lilia: I don’t belong here anymore. And there’s nothing left for me to protect….

Silver: General Vanrouge… Please wait!

(Lilia slaps away Silver’s hand)

Lilia: Just leave me alone…

(The Darkness appears)

Baul: W-What is this… this foul energy!?

Sebek: Is it… Is it the Darkness!?

Silver: It’s being drawn in by father’s despair! Shit, it’s already got him surrounded!

Lilia: …Meleanor, Levan…. Are you down there?

Silver: No, you can’t go down there!! The Darkness is trying to trap you, General Vanrouge!

Lilia: You guys take me… with you…

Silver: FATHEEEEER!!

Sebek: Silver! We must go after Sir Lilia! Grim, Yuu, ready yourselves!

Silver: …Yeah. Let’s go!

Grim: Man, how come we had to wind up here again. It’s so dark an’ cold…

Sebek: Argh, cease with your mewling! If we’re able to locate Sir Lilia, and have him understood this is but a dream, we should return to where we were prior.

Silver: Yeah… That’s right. I never knew… I never knew father stepped down as general because of something that serious.

Sebek: ….In truth, there’s something I’ve been suspicious of ever since I first apprenticed under Sir Lilia. Don’t most of our retired leaders reside in vast mansions just outside the capital? And yet… And yet someone whom my grandfather respects as our nation’s hero, and someone whom the Young Lord adores as part of his family… Lives deep within the forest, far, far away from the capital - as though he were in hiding. I’ve long wondered why that was.

Silver: My father would always tell me the air up in the capital city disagreed with his skin. And he never took me with him there, either… So I just always thought he preferred a quiet life, surrounded by nature… But my father's known Lord Malleus since he was little, and I remember he’d often get summoned to the castle by Her Majesty and Lord Malleus.

Sebek: I wonder, just what transpired in the 200 years between Sir Lilia abdicating his position, and Lord Malleus being born?

Grim: Ain’t gonna do us any good just sittin’ around blabberin’. Come on, let’s go look for Lilia. Then we can get outta here!

Silver: Right. …Wait for us, father!

Episode 7-91

Sebek: Hmph. You are but small fry. You’ve no chance against us, Darkness!

Silver: !! Shh!

(Silver puts his hand over Sebek’s mouth)

Sebek: Fmph?!?

Silver: I hear someone talking, on your 2 o’clock. Let’s check it out.

Sebek: Hmphh!!

Silver: Is this… Dragon Capital City?

Grim: This is just like when we were lookin’ for Silver in the Darkness. We’re all see-through, like ghosts.

Sebek: Ghmph!! Fmmhp… *Sebek rips off Silver’s hand* …Ahh! You!!! Just how long do you intend to keep your hand upon my mouth!

Silver: !! Shh!

(Silver puts his hand back over Sebek’s mouth)

Sebek: Bfmph!?

Baul: Sir Vanrouge. I apologize for the abrupt summons…. But I’m glad you made it.

Lilia: It’s been ten years since we last met, eh?

Silver/Sebek/Grim: !!

Baul: I was concerned since I didn’t get any response to the New Year’s card I sent you… But I’m glad to see you’re doing well.

Lilia: Uh-huh, sure. You know that letter you sent me… I noticed it had the Draconia family’s coat of arms on it. It was Her Majesty who ordered I come here, right? …The heck’s going on? I can’t imagine the Senate or the aristocrats would be happy to see me here. I know Queen Maleficia's subject to their opinions, as well...

Baul: Indeed. That’s why we had that message delivered to you in secret. But you know… Your expertise in concealment hasn’t dulled a bit since you retired. I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. …This way, please.

Lilia: …?

Silver: …Looks like this dream takes place about a decade after the battle ended.

Grim: Let’s trail ‘em.

Lilia: Is this… cradle tower?

Baul: Correct. The heir’s egg… Lord Malleus’s egg is sleeping up there. This tower is to serve as a temporary cradle for the royal family’s eggs, in case something happens that prevents one from hatching.

Lilia: So it’s basically a dragon incubator, since their eggs won’t grow if you don’t pour love and magic into them. I’m guessing Queen Maleficia’s the one providing the magic right now? I heard if dragon eggs don’t directly receive their parents’ love and affection, it takes a lot longer for them to hatch, but I never thought ten years would pass by without hearing news of the heir’s birth.

Baul: The truth is… you were summoned here due to a grave issue we’re having with the egg.

Lilia: …An issue?

Baul: Yes. For the first five years, Queen Maleficia poured her magic into the egg via the tower… And though its growth was slow, the egg did steadily develop in that time. However… Shortly thereafter, the egg began rejecting her magic.

Lilia: What?

Baul: The doctors we consulted said the egg would be more receptive to her magic and affection if she cradled it, instead of sending her magic to the tower. So in between her official duties, Her Majesty comes to the tower to hold the egg… But even that hasn’t had any effect.

Lilia: He’s rejecting her magic… Don’t tell me it’s because she’s not his parent? That’s ridiculous – his eyes aren’t even open yet, there’s no way he’d be able to tell whose magic he’s receiving!

Baul: We’ve summoned doctors from across the country to come look at things, but the cause for all this remains a mystery. The only thing we’re certain of is this: if we fail to find a way to fix this, Lord Malleus will go join the starts without ever hatching.

Episode 7-92

Baul: The only thing we’re certain of is this: if we fail to find a way to fix this, Lord Malleus will go join the starts without ever hatching.

Lilia: No…!

Baul: As the egg is accepting only a limited amount of magic at this point, Queen Maleficia has been pouring in several times the amount of magic needed to hatch him. But as she’s at an advanced age, it will be dangerous for her to keep this up for much longer. The Land of Briar-… Apologies, Briar Valley is in chaos right now, and we’re in a precipitous situation with the neighboring countries. The fate of our country rests on Her Majesty’s shoulders, and she can’t afford to tend to the egg 24/7.

Lilia: …Okay, and?

Baul: Sir Vanrouge, you were once renown as the Dragon’s Right Hand Man. And so I ask of you - please help us.

Lilia: Help you? The hell do you expect me to do? I was never anybody’s right hand man, I couldn’t even fulfill my duty. I’m just a good-for-nothing…. Just a “dirty little bat”.

Baul: I don’t care what anyone says, Her Majesty and I have faith in you. We’d like you to travel the world, and search for information on how to hatch dragon eggs.

Lilia: Travel the world… Does Briar Valley even have anything like passports we can use?

Baul: We do not. …Not official ones, at least.

Lilia: ….Ha, hahaha! Ahahahahaha! That’s rich, never thought I’d get to see the Queen act so reckless. Alright, so what’s in it for me?

Baul: Nothing… except… Do you recall our final audience with Lady Meleanor?

Lilia: Our final audience…

(Flashback)

Lilia: This egg won’t hatch without you!

Meleanor: Then you must hatch it for me.

Meleanor: And you loved Levan, too. You two, the General of the Right and the General of the Left, spent more time together than I did with my own husband. Of course you will love our child, just as you loved us.

(End flashback)

Lilia: “Then you must hatch it for me”….. *sigh* Why does everybody always gotto dump their problems onto me.

Baul: Does that mean you’ll….!

Lilia: I was just thinking about taking a little trip, actually. I’ll ask around about the egg while I’m gone. But that��s it, got it? Don’t expect I’ll be much help.

Baul: Of course. While you’re gone, we’ll keep trying to find a solution on our end. Safe travels… The night’s blessing upon ye.

(Baul departs)

Lilia: First things first, I need to find out where dragons live outside of Briar Valley. Then I can start my search there… *sigh* If we can’t hatch you before you join the stars, I already know your parents are gonna give me an earful when I get up there myself… So you better not kick the bucket while I’m gone… Malleus.

Episode 7-93

Silver: …So that’s the reason why father went traveling around the world. He was looking for a way to hatch Lord Malleus…

Sebek: Four hundred years ago, eh…‘Twas a time when prejudice against other species ran rampant. Doubtless ‘twas no pleasant journey.

Silver: …I wonder what happened while he was traveling?

Lilia: I heard there was a see-through dragon that pops up sometimes in the Shaftlands… But I doubt a dragon would live here, so close to humans.

Townsperson A: Hey, traveler! Come join on the fun! This festival only comes ‘round once a year.

Lilia: Sorry, I’m in a bit of a hurry. Ah, actually, have you heard about a dragon that lives around here?

Townsperson A: Dragon? No way, those things are just fairytales. Anyways, you don’t look so good. You feeling okay? You’re white as a ghost- Ah! T-Those pointy ears… Are you a fae…!?

Townsperson B: What!? They say the fae rule over the lands up north with an iron fist!

Townsperson C: M-Monsteeer!! Get away from us!

(The townspeople start throwing rocks at Lilia)

Lilia: A monster? You’re one to talk, human!

(Lilia starts charging up his magic, then stops)

Lilia: We’re just gonna look even worse if I cause any trouble… Dammit!

Maleficia’s Castle – Cradle Tower

Baul: How did your trip go, Sir Vanrouge?

Lilia: …I didn’t get any leads.

Baul: I see…

Lilia: How’s the egg doing?

Baul: Not much better, unfortunately. However… After you departed for your travels, he started accepting just a little bit more magic. Perhaps your parting words encouraged His Majesty.

Lilia: Don’t be ridiculous, it’s impossible to tell what babies are thinking. Long as he’s still alive, that’s what matters.

Baul: I’ve ordered everyone out of the tower. Would you like to go speak with him?

Lilia: I don’t see any reason why. Not like there’s anything I can do for him.

Baul: That’s not true. I’ve no doubt he’d be delighted just to hear your voice.

Lilia: …Fine, but only for a second…. Hey there, Malleus. Haven’t seen you in two years, just about. I was worried you’d go join the stars while I was gone… But I see you’re hanging in there just fine, yeah? I bet you must get bored just sleeping all the time. Here I’ll… I’ll tell you about my travels. I was just in the Shaftlands the other day. It ended up being a wild goose chase, so I… Ah, let me tell you a happier story. So this town I went to had this huge festival going on… There were restaurants and food stalls as far as the eye could see… I even got to try some goat’s milk cheese, and it was delicious. ….Is there any point telling you these stupid stories… I’ll be going down south next. Hopefully I can actually get some useful information this time. …See you, Malleus. Don’t kick the bucket while I’m gone.

Merchant: Dear traveler! Would you be interested in this magic lamp?

Lilia: Magic lamp?

Merchant: Indeed. If you rub this beautiful lamp here, a magic genie will appear and grant you three wishes. Amazing, isn’t it?

Lilia: He’ll grant my wish… So could he hatch a dragon egg, for example?

Merchant: A dragon… You mean those creatures from those old fairy tales? Why of course! I’m certain a genie could do that for you. Ah, well, this lamp is just a replica, so even if you rub it a genie won’t come out. So, you going to buy it or not?

Lilia: …No, I got enough luggage already.

Merchant: Well I think souvenirs are the real highlight of traveling, but okay. If you’re not going to buy anything, then scram. You’re getting in the way of my other customers.

Lilia: Fairy tales, huh. There’s still dragons alive today… So maybe the genie of the lamp is still out there somewhere. I’ll see if I can’t collect some more info while I’m here. Ugh, but the sunlight’s so strong in this country… *sigh*

Episode 7-94

Lilia: Hey there, Malleus. How’re you doing? Baul told me somedays you’ll accept magic, and somedays you won’t. But they can’t figure out any rhyme or reason to it. You’re too young to be this picky, you know. Your mother was an awful picky eater, I remember she gave the kitchen staff a lot of grief. Couldn’t you have picked a different quality of hers to take after? I’m sure Queen Maleficia’s just about fed up by now, too. …And I bet Meleanor’s up there laughing at us right now, seeing us run around all frazzled. Oh, and Levan. He always went around acting all prim and proper, but anytime he had to eat some vegetables he didn’t like, he’d hide them underneath the table cloth. I’m totally the opposite, though – I’ll eat just about anything, long as it fills my stomach. The three of you are the most bothersome family I’ll ever meet, I swear. …This time, I went to Scalding Sands. Humans are something else. In only ten years they built up their small villages into these huge cities, and it’s unbelievable how quickly their countries keep developing. For a pure blood fae like you, the world might just get harder and harder to live in as time goes on. …I’ll be leaving again soon. I’m sure I’ll find a way to hatch you this time. So until I get back, you better not…

Lilia (singing): Now sleep, sleep, my beloved child

I pray you’ll walk towards that light

That light that will guide you in your dreams…

Lilia: Haaa, haaah…. Legends say dragons lived in this valley… But this place is a ghost town. Maybe they relocated somewhere, or maybe they’re already… Dammit! It took me years to get here, but it was just another stupid goose chase. Isn’t there anything here that can give me any clues? I’ll ask the furniture and the carpeting if I have to. Just tell me, please! Tell me how to hatch a dragon egg! He’s been getting weaker and weaker all this time! I don’t care who or what… Just someone tell me! Please!!!

(magic starts building up)

Lilia: What’s going on? My magic’s flowing out of my fingertips by itself…! …. “Life is but a fleeting day, distance but an illusion.” Far Cry Cradle.

Lilia: Those visions just now… Was I seeing this castle’s past? ….Did my magic do that? I’ll try again… There! I can see it… It’s only just a little bit, but I can see the memories that were left behind here! Haha! Yes! With this spell, there’ll be so many new avenues I can take with my search. If I can peer into memories of the past… I’m sure I’ll find some clues on how to hatch dragon eggs…! I’ll find it, I know I will! I’ll find a way to hatch him!

Part 1

Part 3

#lilia vanrouge #baul zigvolt #sebek zigvolt #twst silver #twst book 7 #twst spoilers #twst #twisted wonderland #twst jp

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rainbowsky · 2 months

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Back when I had my Anon inbox open I used to get a lot of hate from people who couldn't understand why I hate XFX so much. This post is for you.

This is a fan repo from one of the more prominent C-turtles who was at the events in Milan. This is a machine translation so some things might not be entirely accurate, but hopefully you can get the overall message.

Someone asked me why they saw yellow balloons at the show at the beginning, but then there were no more? Below, there are many words:

Before departure, our Three Kingdoms Turtles jointly prepared hundreds of tri-color balloons. Colorful balloons are very suitable for all festivals and ceremonies, and they are our CPF representative colors. People in the fashion industry are happy and supportive when they see them, and Zhan Zhan sees them. Turtles are here.

It was raining heavily in Milan that day, so we arrived at the scene at 5:30 and stood in the second row. We abide by the order and know that there are solo fans in front of us. In order not to offend each other, we even chat as quietly as possible.

At almost 8:30, we started to blow up yellow balloons. At that time, we heard the commotion from the surrounding solo fans. After all, it was in front of an international show. In order to live in peace, we temporarily decided to only blow up yellow balloons (because we were also verbally attacked and attacked by solo fans last year when we were supporting Milan, due to threats, the final agreement was that we put down a few green balloons and they wouldn’t use banners to block our view).

As a result, not long after our yellow balloons were lifted up, a solo fan kept pricking our balloons with the tip of the umbrella. We kept hiding, but we couldn't resist the solo fan who kept pricking the balloons like crazy. After the bang, those fans cheered: "Yeah! Well done! One more! One more! One more!"

We loudly warned them in English: "Be careful with your words and deeds. This is a show, not a place for you to make trouble!"

They started to completely block our view with umbrellas and said, "Then you won't even get to see him." There was a passerby fan behind us who couldn't help but scolded: "Why are you guys so domineering? We can't even watch other celebrities if we want to?! It's so ruining the popularity of passersby!" (We turned around and asked her, and she is really a passerby fan, she dropped by to join in the fun to see all the celebrities).

But no matter how she yelled or scolded, the shrimps in the first row refused to listen and looked back, holding up the umbrellas resolutely. And every time a reporter came to take photos of fans, those solo fans would stand on small stools, elongate their bodies, and use balloons to try to cover us. Later, other passerby fans/ihan fans/thai fans started scolding: "You guys are ruining the popularity of passersby!"

The last "solo fan representative" finally turned around and said to us: "Put down the balloons and we will let you see him, otherwise you will not be able to see him today."

We flew to Milan from all over Europe and stood in the heavy rain for 4 hours. No matter how warm we were, we still got wet. If we really couldn't see him, it would be so regretful and painful. Who knows when we put away the balloons, how aggrieved I felt at that moment!

Several passerby fans/ihan fans/thai fans around me said angrily: "Just tear off and break the umbrellas!" We said that this is an international show after all, and we don't want to fight here, or to escalate the conflict. Solo fans don't care about the reputation of their idol, but we can't be like solo fans and ignore it. After all, we sincerely hope everything goes well for Zhanzhan!

It was almost noon when we arrived at the Gucci show, and it was already bright. Moreover, many celebrities from the fashion industry had gathered at the venue early. We really didn’t want to cause any trouble to the host on this occasion, so we simply gave up the balloons.

Originally, I didn’t want to mention this offline conflict again online, until today I heard a turtle say that there were solo fans showing off outside the Gucci show: “I brought a pin to prick the CPF balloons today, and it really worked, hahahaha.” . . . . .

We went to the show to see our idol and to support him in everything he did! But the purpose of solo fans going to the scene was to attack?!

Love and dislike are really obvious. People who love understand structure, tolerance and coexistence; people who don't love will always only see violence, jealousy and harm in their eyes.

#bjyx #yizhan #solos belong to moling su sect #antis go home #bxg ggdd

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zzprompto · 19 days

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☆ paper rings

re2! leon kennedy x male reader [he / him]

sypnosis: amidst the troubles in raccoon city, leon and [name] find some peace. but it doesn't last long. (meant to be viewed as romantic.)

the lowercase is intentional !

- warnings : death, guns, zombies, other re stuff

low grunts from zombies could be heard outside the room leon and [name] had holed themselves up in. this wasn't where the couple expected to be in of all places. what a great place to have a date in, right?

leon was rummaging through a few boxes, trying to find some ammo, herbs or anything else that would help him and [name] keep going. on the other hand, [name] was in the corner, trying not to freak out. he had his hands over his ears, blocking out the sounds that were coming from the zombies outside.

eventually, leon found something in one of the many boxes that he had been searching through. it wasn't anything useful though, just some old, tattered piece of paper. he quickly folded it up into a circular shape, almost resembling a ring.

leon walked over to [name], kneeling down and presenting the ring to him with a smile. he didn't want [name] to worry or panic too much about the everlooming threat of those flesh-rotting monsters outside, so he hoped that this would somewhat calm [name] down.

"what's that?" [name] asked, voice shaky. it was almost as if he was on the verge of crying, or even breaking down. he stared at the ring infront of him, moving his hands off of his ears even though the noises outside were still overwhelming him.

"i think you know what it is. you're smart." leon whispered back, grinning at [name]. he hoped [name] would be able to tell what he was trying to do with the ring, even if it was just paper. ultimately, leon hoped [name] would accept this sore excuse of a proposal.

[name] pondered for a few moments, keeping a close eye on paper that was being presented to him. it was clear what leon had tried to do. he had tried to turn it into a ring for a proposal. [name]'s mouth opened to speak, but nothing cane out. he let out a grunt and he furrowed his brows in frustration.

"what i'm trying to do is.. how do i put this.." leon whispers, trying to think of the best way to do this. leon takes in a deep breath before he speaks again.

"i love you, [name]." the cop continues speaking, a hopeful smile on his face. "i have for the time that we've been friends, for the time that we've been lovers, and hopefully for the rest of our lives. even though we can't get married now because.. well, we're amidst some zombie apocalypse right now, and because we're both men.. i want to marry you some day. so, consider this my proposal to you." leon says, speaking directly from the heart with such love and adoration for the man that was sitting infront of him.

[name] started to tear up and his lip quivered. he nodded at leon, unable to say anything else. leon understood what this meant, so he took the paper ring and placed it on [name]'s ring finger with a smile.

"i'm sorry that this isn't the most ideal place or time for a proposal, nor is the ring." leon apologises, his smile replaced with a small frown. he did want something better for [name], something more grand to express his love for the other. but, he didn't even think anything would be able to put into words how much he felt for [name].

"it's fine." [name] sniffles, voice breaking. "i'd marry you.. even if we only had paper rings." he chuckled, a few stray tears falling down his cheeks. like a hero coming to save the day, leon immediately started wiping down [name]'s tears.

"i just.." [name] continued to speak, voice wavering. "i just hope we make it out of here. i can't stand listening to all that groaning on repeat, it's making my skin crawl.." he mutters, clearly uncomfortable by the whole situation.

leon presses a kiss to [name]'s forehead in hopes it would calm the other man down. he didn't want his lover to worry. he knew they were going to make it out of this hell hole - together.

"of course we're going to make it out, [name]. we have eachother, don't we?" leon whispered in return, leaning forward to cradle [name] in his arms. in return, [name] sobbed, unable to stop his tears from flowing - especially because of leon's tender and loving touch.

"speaking of making it out of here.." leon muttered against [name]'s forehead. "we have to leave this room soon. we don't want the zombies to end up tearing inside here, do we?" he hummed, giving [name]'s forehead yet another kiss before he pulled back.

[name] nodded and he shuffled back from leon slightly. he wiped his tears away with his sleeve, trying to look presentable - or as presentable as he could be in such a situation.

"yeah.. let's.. let's go." [name] replied, voice shaky. when he breathed in, his whole body shook. it seemed that he still hadn't calmed down from crying earlier. leon was concerned, his brows furrowed as he looked over at his partner.

"are you sure? we can wait out a few more minutes. you look like you need to calm down a little more." leon says, taking one of [name]'s hands in his own to stroke it gently. he didn't want [name] to be in an even worse place than he already was in. he wanted to do everything that he could in that moment to help [name].

[name] shook his head, opposing to what leon had just said. "i'm fine, i promise. just.. a little shaken up. i'll be good to go." he mumbled back, taking in a deep breath to ultimately prepare himself for what was to come.

leon nodded in response and he smiled. he then stood up and offered [name] a hand, which [name] gladly took in response. leon then took a quick look around the boxes once more to see if he had missed anything. he found a half empty box of ammo and some dried up green herbs. it was better than nothing.

"alright, time to go." leon muttered, looking over at [name] briefly before he turned to the door. he opened it cautiously, looking around to see if there were any zombies patrolling around. and there were. he quickly shot those that were on the corridor before grabbing [name]'s hand and making a run for it.

the two kept running throughout the corridor, taking any turns or shortcuts that were needed to avoid any zombie contact. they were doing well for a while, until they ran into a problem. they were surrounded.

"shit." leon muttered, dropping [name]'s hand as he looked around. "stay close, okay?" he whispered to [name] before he shot more rounds at the zombies. one by one, the came falling down. except for one.

one particularly pesky zombie had caught onto [name]'s leg as it fell down, scratching it deeply. [name] would've let out a scream if he hadn't already been biting down on his lip so heavily to the point where it was bleeding.

leon hadn't noticed [name]'s injury, he just grabbed [name]'s hand once more so they could make a run for it. the two kept running for their lives, once again. it seemed to be the only thing they could do in such a situation.

[name] started to grunt and groan in pain as they kept running. leon turned his head slightly, seeing the trail of blood on the floor that was coming from [name]'s leg. his eyes widened in concerned as he saw this and he immediately ran to a corner, pulling [name] along with him.

"when did that happen?" leon asked, sitting [name] down and pulling his trouser leg up. the cut was serious and pretty deep too. those zombies had gotten [name] pretty good.

[name] breathed in and out heavily, clutching onto his stomach as he squeezed his eyes shut. he felt so uncomfortable right now, it was like bugs were running up and down his body - but like 100x worse because of the injury in his leg.

"one of them.. scratched me as it was going down.." he muttered, burying his face inbetween his knees. he didn't want to face leon - he felt guilty. [name] believed that leon was going to scold him in that moment, and he didn't want to experience that at all. luckily, leon didn't do that.

"bastards.. hurting [name].." leon muttered under his breath. he looked around, trying to see if he could get something to wrap around the wound. he checked his pockets and eventually found the tiniest bit of guaze. he decided that it should do - so he wrapped it around [name]'s leg and hoped for the best.

leon looked up at [name] with a worried expression. "you think you can still run? we shouldn't be that far from the train. we can get out of here." he said, trying to be hopeful as he possibly could. [name] opened his eyes in response and he nodded, trying to put on a smile even though he was in immense pain.

leon sighed in relief, standing up and helping [name] up too. leon gripped onto [name]'s hand once more and they started running again. this time, they were a little slower because of [name]'s injury. however, leon was still hopeful. he was determined to get out of raccoon city with both him and [name] alive.

the couple kept running for their lives, once again taking different turns and shortcuts just to escape any zombie hoards. leon wasn't going to take any risks this time, not when [name] was injured.

"this way.." leon muttered, taking a turn. he was still holding onto [name]'s hand, but his grip was slowly faltering because of how sweaty his palms had gotten. the adrenaline was coursing through his veins, making his heart pummel against his chest and his sweat just skyrocket in production. this wasn't a good sign. it wasn't a good sign at all.

without realising, leon's hand had slipped and he had let go of [name]. [name] had tumbled and fallen onto the floor, alerting all nearby zombies. leon stopped and he turned around to go help [name] back up, but it was too late.

one zombie. two zombies. three zombies.

three zombies were swarming [name]'s body, all getting ready to pounce on him. it was as if they were practically drooling upon the sight of the young man.

leon tried his best to shoot them, but his hands were too shaky and his palms were too sweaty. he was afraid. afraid of what, exactly? he hadn't been this afraid when fighting all those other zombies, so why was it now?

it was because of [name]. [name] was the centre of the zombie's attention currently, and leon was scared that he was going to essentially shoot [name] if one of the zombies angled themselves weirdly. of course, leon didn't want that. so he froze. still. unable to do anything.

[name] had finally gained focus after falling. he looked around and saw the zombies swarming him. he wanted to scream and cry and yell out for help, but he couldn't. nothing escaped his mouth. it was almost as if he was frozen - just like leon.

[name]'s eyes darted away from the zombies towards the light. maybe he was already dying. maybe that's why he saw the light. but, instead of light he saw leon. he smiled, a few tears now running down his cheeks.

"run leon.. run.." he croaks, voice breaking as he spoke. if he couldn't get out of there, he wanted leon to get out of there if anything. all that mattered was leon in that moment - nobody else. leon was his light. leon would find a way out of there - he had done all the work that night after all. [name] was just too anxious for anything.

"i love you.." [name] breathes out before the zombies started going at him. violent screams were the only other things that left [name]'s lips after that moment.

leon did as [name] said and he started to run. he ran as fast as he could out of there, away from the zombies, away from the pain, away from [name].

the rookie briefly turned back, taking a glimpse of the scene that was there. the scene that he'd see countless times after, but not as a joyous memory - but as a reoccuring nightmare.

and all that was left in leon's mind was the vision of [name]'s body being torn apart, and the bloodied paper ring he was wearing.

- author's note: hope you guys enjoy :) working on a request.. so if you're waiting for a request and it's taking a little long i'm so sorry 😭 i will get it done by the end of this week ! might write something for luis because i love him and i don't want it to seem like leon is the only resident evil character i know 😐

- navigation : masterlist : request

#zzprompto #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x male reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x male reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #resident evil 2 #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #x male reader #x reader #foryou #gay #mlm

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grapejuicestyless · 7 months

Note

i’m rlly sad summers gone but like I have a winter request for conrad so we good !!

fem reader (conklinnn ofc) and conrad used to date but then had a messy breakup so now everyone is in college and yn doesn’t have anywhere to go because everyone is off doing something for winter break so she takes stevens car and drives down to the summer house and conrad shows up a day later and she’s freaking out. They both stay there the whole week and romantic feelings and nostalgia builds up again 🤌🏻

you can add some of your own stuff too because your soooo creative and your work is golden!! thank you:)

Peace.

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Angst to fluff!

Summery: After a hard loss, both in a relationship and with the severing of the ties of her past, Y/n must learn to let go in order to gain what she so desperate wants back.

Snowfall is always overlooked. People see it as more of an inconvenience than as a gift. Each little white flake falling from the sky seems like nothing more than a mushy ball of frozen water made to block the roads and keep kids out of school, but the closer you look the more complex they are.

What was once so horrible becomes something beautiful, something unique. There is no other thing like it, each flake is different even by one branch in the pattern. It’s sad how many people are so quick to dismiss it and pout out their windows. White was never their favorite color and the cold was never their favorite temperature.

At this time of year, I usually considered myself lucky. I had a family who cherished each snowfall and a mother who would have hot-coco ready on the table for when our red cheeks and icy hair would become too much and we would finally come back inside to melt and warm up again. Each winter break my younger siblings, Steven and Belly would be attached at my hip. Having an older sister who only grew more and more, our time together always felt limited. So we spent each day in the living room. Playing the Wii with Steven and Barbies with Belly. I would read with my mom and cook with my dad. It was all so perfect. My favorite time of the year.

I used to joke with Conrad that college didn’t hold the same amount of excitement around the season because people were just as bitter and cold all year round. I called him cold hearted too because he thought it was funny. He laughed and kissed me then. I wonder if he would laugh now. Even if we no longer shared a stocking and cozied up by the fireplace impossibly close declaring our quiet loves for each other. I wonder if he still thinks fondly of the winter like I do now that it’s tainted with old memories of us.

Usually, during the winter I would drive down to Boston. It took some convincing for Laurel to allow her daughter to drive so far in such intense weather, but she knew where my heart belonged. It was the holidays and she was just as jolly as the rest of us, so she would always agree. There, I would bring gifts for all the Fishers. I didn’t have enough money to afford gifts and college, so everything was homemade. Every year I would apologize, but Susannah and Conrad always claimed to love it. Jeremiah wouldn’t say anything, but the smile on his face was always genuinely happy, so I think he liked them just as much.

Conrad would take my mitten clad hands after. Even covered in thick wool he managed to clasp his hands fully around mine, eager to get me alone. We’d slip away into his room, my cheeks red and eyelashes covered in snowflakes and his eyes wide and smile full. Behind closed doors, we could be as affectionate as we wanted without gags of jealousy disguised as disgust from Jeremiah or swooning from Susannah over how cozy we looked.

I remember how I believed my hips were made with dips so his hands could fit perfectly in them. How his arm rested on my waist so tight, I didn’t need a blanket because he kept me warm. No fireplace or layers of coats could light the flames in my heart and keep me warm in the coldest winters like Conrad could.

He said summer was his favorite season when he met me, but now he favored winter because it reminded him of me. I asked what would happen if something were to happen to us, just to tease him then. He got serious, I still remember the look on his face when he told me I would always be his favorite thing. How winter would forever remind him of me and no matter what, nothing could change that fact.

It was our own little secret oasis. A utopia of our own confined within the four walls of his childhood bedroom. When it snowed, we’d play in the snow like children and when it stormed we’d make forts to watch our favorite winter movies. It was a dream I never wanted to end, I was foolish to think it wouldn’t.

By spring, it felt like he was tired of me, of who I was. No amount of effort could keep Conrad beside me. I became someone he wasted his time on rather than someone he begged to be around. My skin was like fire to his touch, his eyes avoidant. It all came to a head when I broke down in late May.

“Why, why am I not enough?” I begged him then, I wanted to know what my problem was. Why I couldn’t be more than what I was now. Why we couldn’t go back.

He shrugged his shoulders, looking past my left shoulder. He looked distant. He knew it just as well as I did, we were walking on eggshells.

“Because you’re just not.” His words were bitter, knives stabbing me through the heart and ripping out. There was no reason, he didn’t even try to make the gashes in my heart better.

“Bullshit. I do everything for you! I give you everything!” It came out more as a question than a statement. I wasn’t as sure about what I once believed so firmly now that Conrad was showing how he felt.

“I guess it wasn’t enough then.” His eyes were watering. We were already talking in the past tense, we were over. He didn’t have to say it, neither did I. It was as clear as the freckles on his face, there was no amount of mending that could pull us back together.

In my mind I could only remember those final words we spoke to each other. The first hour of our long argument was washed from my mind for my own sake. What should’ve been tattooed permanently in my brain was gone the second we were over. Maybe if I could remember it fully, each insult and every word he used to put me down and make me feel small, I would’ve been able to feel justified in my anger. I could talk shit with my friends, shit on him to my mother. But even in my heartache, I couldn’t find reasons to be mad at him.

Conrad always went through so much on his own. It would be selfish of me to believe that he was completely okay when things ended. It was messy and sudden the way it happened. He was the biggest dick to me, but I couldn’t blame him for what he did. Not then, not now. Part of me still loved him. Part of me would still die for him in secret. He was my first love, all I knew when it came to my feelings. I let him rule my heart, my decisions. I didn’t show up to Cousins that summer.

Now that it was over, no ties binding us together, no overbearing reason to drive down to Boston for the weeks leading up to the holidays where we’d all finally be together again, I have no where to go. Steven was old enough to be on his own now, a freshman at Princeton. One of his rich friends had dropped by within the first twenty four hours to drag him off to his families vacation home. I hadn’t even set up the Wii yet. Belly, my littlest sibling who I adored more than anyone else I knew was more distant than Steven. The stress of deciding between Finch and Jeremiah or some state school with the guarantee of being on volleyball was eating her alive. Back then, I would’ve told her not to lose sight of her dreams and life because of some boy, but here I was doing the same thing. I stayed quiet and let her decide what she wanted.

My mom was gone just like Steven. Away to talk about her book with other critically acclaimed writers and producers. My dad was out of the picture. He wouldn’t be back until Christmas morning. He was never really present after the divorce, but he’s a good man and he tries his best. He just works a lot. It hurts to not be able to enjoy the holidays like I used to, but I can respect why everyone’s away.

Somehow, I end up in Stevens drivers seat. I’ve never had a car of my own. While Steven spent weeks searching the internet for a cheep car, I spent my time studying for finals and applying to colleges. I never had the time. He gave me his keys before he left. He said I could take his car anywhere I wanted as long as I didn’t ruin it. Each dent in it, I would owe him ten bucks. It wasn’t much, but to a struggling college student, ten dollars in my bank account might as well have been him asking for hundreds.

“Belly, I’m heading out. Call me if you need me, okay? I might not be back for awhile.” The words I chose were ominous. I didn’t tell her where I was going, why I was going or how long I’d be exactly, but she didn’t care enough to ask. So I climbed into Stevens car and let my playlist shuffle. I imagine myself in the situations my favorite artists write about and sing along like I can relate to their upper class parties and juvenile activities. It keeps my mind off of where I’m going.

It’s not like I got in the car set on heading to the one place that once swore to never step foot near again, but when I recognize the signs on the highway pointing me in the same direction, I’m suddenly set on it.

The sting of the breakup lingered like a tattooed kiss, a reminder of something so special that was now gone. I wouldn’t let him ruin the place that was once so special to our families.

Pulling up to that driveway, I remember how the weeds would grow over the gravel by July and how Steven and Jeremiah would stay out for hours plucking at them to make Susannah happy. How the grass held the imprints of our small bodies rolling around the hills and daffodils. The sand was forever glued into the fabric of our favorite t-shirts and the salt air is what we smelled of until December washed it away.

We were always so close here. Despite the rifts and the problems that happened between us. Not blow out fight or silent treatment could ever separate the Conklin’s and the Fishers from each other for long.

I looked back on how I felt at home. How together was something that I never even questioned. Steven would be by the fireplace yelling at the television and Belly would be begging him to quiet down. Laurel would be curled up in the corner scribbling things into a notepad and dad would try to sneakily move the elf on the shelf.

We were older now. The wii wasn’t all that special and Belly longed for the chaos she once hated. Steven preferred his friends and mom and dad fell out of love so mom could learn to love her work more.

I pulled into the large house through the garage. I knew the code by heart, it was my phone passcode. I figured that if I wanted to stay attached to homeliness so badly I could be where I learned what love was the best.

In my head, even now I always believed that no matter how long it would go untouched, the summer home would always be bright and warm. Smelling of Susannah’s candles and Belly’s sticky iced teas.

Stepping through the front door, it was dark and cold. My breath was less visible than in the outside, but the light and heat didn’t bounce from wall to wall like it always did.

It took me a few minutes to find the correct switch to turn up the heat. I cranked it until my socks burned on my feet and a sweat covered the top of my forehead. It was comfortable, I could sink into my own chunky sweater.

It was my mothers, the blue and white striped sweater I wore. She was gifted it by Susannah in their late college years but it never quiet fit her because she was so short. It fit big, but it didn’t sag at my knees or gather at my wrists as much. It smelled like my mom and reminded me of Pennsylvania skies.

The warmth from the heat and the comfort from my clothes set me in a slump, my eyes drooped. I hadn’t even turned on any lights yet, hadn’t gone up to my room to make the bed. I was sat in place on the permanently indented couch. Though my body curled into the spot where I always laid during movie nights, my head fell where Conrad’s lap would’ve been. To imagine we were all just as happy, as close made me feel fuzzy. If I tried hard enough I could even hear his voice. Calling for me, like a dream.

The sun peaked through the windows and the dust that collected on the once neatly kept glass projected tiny shadows and spots across the hardwood floor. The couch was warm with my body heat and other than the faint whisper of the wind, it was peaceful.

A melodic whistle blowed through the open gap between the living room and the kitchen. It was smooth yet broke when the song grew too high for the deeper voice that carried the tune.

Rubbing at my eyes, my feet swung out from under my thighs, I wiped away any drool or signs of slumber. Still, clearing my complexion did not rid my body of the tired achey feeling and the small blurring of my vision. My brain was following behind my body, every caution sign to who was here at this time thrown to the wind.

Mugs clanked together clumsily, my nose burned with the strong scent of coffee beans. It was chillier in the morning here than how I had left it at night, I could feel the tip of my nose turning red and growing colder.

A taller boy stood hunched over the countertops, a spoon clinking around softly as he stirred around something in the mug. His shirt hung loose on his body but his pants fit just right.

His hair was wavy, but only just at the ends. Under the strong smells of early morning caffeine, I could faintly still pick up the scent of sea salt and a spice I couldn’t name. It was vanilla like but also had a lingering smell of oak and woods. It was my favorite smell.

“Conrad..?” It clicked in my brain that the handsome boy hanging around the summer home wasn’t some pick me up sent from heaven. The reason behind my instant admiration for such a simple, domestic task was because of how well I knew and once loved the boy. The name fell from my lips quietly, like I couldn’t believe it was true.

Spinning around, I met his blue eyes. I watched his lips twitch, fighting against some kind of emotion from spreading across his face and the light in his eyes falter. He looked blank, unaware of how his lack of enthusiasm of our reuniting was crushing me inside.

“Figured you’d want coffee.” He was right. He still knew me like the back of his own hand and that was the worst part. I hadn’t changed, I never would. He would always know me and it hurt to know I trusted him like that at one point just for him to leave. He even made it in my favorite mug.

A light blue ceramic mug that still had Belly and Conrad’s fingerprints in the clay and visible brush strokes across the top. They made it for me when we were still little. It was my favorite gift from her because they made it as an apology. For breaking my old vase I made for my mom in art class. They meant to harm and felt horrible, I cherished their kindness more than anything.

“No…no. I’m all set.” Crossing my arms and clearing my throat, I set my eyes on the ground and leaned against the doorframe on the wall. We didn’t speak after that, he didn’t move. Sucking in his lips, I heard him sigh almost disappointedly.

“So…” He tried to start, I was too scared to listen. Not of him, god I could never be scared of him. But of what he could want to say.

My eyes flicked over the dents in the floor, I discovered marks I hadn’t seen before. Just when I thought I had everything memorized. When I thought I knew everything, when I thought I knew him.

“You know, uhm…I think I’m going to settle in.” Nodding at him quickly, I all but ran to the stairs. My hands gripped at the banister so quickly, I felt skin pull skin. It tore just under my fingers beginning, the top of my palm. I swore I heard him call after me, but maybe it was the ringing in my ears.

I came here to get away. In search of some solace, I grasped at the tattered strands of my childhood to find that I had held on too long. In my own journey, by some sort of fate, I dragged along a deeper part of those memories with me.

I spent that morning stowed away in my bedroom. I left the door ajar. The air was chilly still, and the air dusty. The heat had rarely been used. Only on the rare occasions in which Susannah would find reason to escape down to the beautiful town of Cousins. Simply to watch the early snowfalls or sparkling lights decorating the center of the town. Usually when I would get settled into my own room in the summer home, each knickknack would be thrown carelessly over the bureau top and shoved in the forever empty bedside table drawers. I would procrastinate making my bed last. I hated the damned fitted sheets and the wrinkles I couldn’t flatten for days. I hated the way that the corners never stayed. My body stretched as far as it would go, yet I could never quiet hook the fabric far enough to keep it settled.

Today was no different. My blood boiled the same, but it mixed with an unfamiliar warmth. How endearing it was to be able to relive such a memorable moment of my summers again even after tragedy struck the once uniting household.

“Fuck.” The sheets flipped up. The full sized mattress was far too wide to allow my arms to stretch across the full width of its body and hook the corners over far enough to where they wouldn’t slip. Each move resulted in a different kind of release with the bedsheets. Each time I ended up wrapped up in the thin cotton sheets.

The clock ticking on my bedside table taunts me. Reminds me of how long I’ve been tangled around in my bed. If it weren’t so humiliating, I would’ve asked for help. But I created a mess. My feelings, one’s that Conrad had so clearly buried as he was able to be kind and cordial towards me while I panicked like a fish out of water. So I hop around from corner to corner desperate to finish my task.

“Y/n?” The name burns the way it rolls off of his tongue. Like even with me gone, he had practiced pronouncing it in the mirror, whispered it to himself each night. It was like we’d seen each other the day before, the way it came out. Breathless and light.

The moon hung over the house, illuminating thin strips of shine through the windows that led from the floor to the very bed I was sprawled across.

Sighing heavily, I threw my head back. Hair fell in front of my face, tickling the bridge of my nose. I saw Conrad hesitate. His hand flinched out from where it was tucked behind the doorframe. He set it on the white wood frame.

“Can I help?” It was innocent enough. Maybe he was sick of the sound of my knees rubbing against the mattress. Or the way I grunted every few minutes. I stumbled around my room all day fixing it up, I almost forgot how loud it could’ve been.

It felt sour to accept it. Even if it were as innocent and kind as it seemed. Conrad had a glimmer of hope in his eye and his lips upturned. He looked so handsome still, nose pinker from the slight chill and eyes still just as deep blue.

“No thank you.” I huffed. I tried to sound annoyed, something that was hard to do when you weren’t really all that annoyed at all. Resistant was the only similar thing I could place a name to. I saw the wag Conrad’s smile faltered, his eyes looming with a dark shadow, masking the vibrant sparkle.

“Come on, don’t be so stubborn, please? You’ve been at it for hours, just let me help.” Stubborn. Just like my mother and his. Each of us were always set to do things on our own. But this was far more than just genetics at this point. This was my own grudge I was holding. This was my pride and my responsibility over my emotions acting. No matter how nice the gesture, I still refused, gnashing my teeth.

“Oh, so suddenly you care?” It was a lot more mean than I meant it. I know how much Conrad cares. How much he always has. He doesn’t have the best way to show for it, but in the end you always know it. It was a mistake, an instant regret. I watched how his face contorted. He wasn’t just disappointed now, but genuinely hurt by my own dig at his insecurities.

His whole life, Conrad always feared he wasn’t enough. He couldn’t give enough, couldn’t be enough. He always talked himself down, creating a false standard in which everyone else was above him, out of his league. He was insecure. He didn’t need reassurance, he knew what kind of love was real and what was fake, but the fact that maybe I had thought the same crushed him. I could tell.

His silence hung over us so heavy, a knife could slice it. His jaw stuttered and his eyes blinked slow. A loss for words. I wish he could just yell at me. Fuel my fire, make me feel less bad about what I said. Less guilty about the fact I couldn’t get over us when he could. Conrad didn’t deserve my emotional daggers directed at his heart simply because we split. I know Conrad, I always have. His method of leaving was cruel, but the boys heart was in the right place always.

“Fuck!” The sheet snapped back. I had enough. In all seriousness, I should’ve stopped to talk to the boy who was so clearly hurt by the door. A girl, a guest in a house that once felt just as much as hers as his was there in a now occupied room throwing insults unprovoked when he was trying to be nice.

Standing, I stumbled past him clumsily again, taking a spare blanket that hung off the end of the bed with me. I couldn’t take it. His stares, the silence, the sheet, my own guilt, my thoughts. I needed to be out of that sickened room.

“Y/n…” Again, the call was faint. A whisper in my head whose only goal was to make me stop. I didn’t turn. It was unfair, the whole thing. To me, to Conrad. I decided to sleep on the couch.

My back ached. The plush cushioning under my back too soft, too worn in. A good remedy, a great place for a quick nap. But it hurt after more than a few hours. The fabric rubbed harshly, the pillows sunk in. My hips popped when I stood.

The sun was shining through the windows, air crisp. Heat finally reached all corners of the large house and the cob webs were finally swept away. The magic of summer wasn’t there, but it felt homely. A good alternative to the sad loneliness of my own bedroom at home.

The house was still, the kitchen untouched and an empty mug in the sink. It was stained in a ring from where the old drink had been and had little brown streaks from where the coffee dripped off of the sides. The counter tops were cold, despite the heat inside. The floor was quiet, there was no shuffling. It led me to believe that the only other occupant was still asleep.

Heading up the stairs, I picked at my old clothes. The discomfort came from multiple things. The way my clothes stuck to my body, my teeth didn’t feel right in my mouth. My hair was knotted. I looked fine, but nothing felt right. The only way to describe it was that when waking up after a rough couple of nights, it felt like my skin didn’t fit right over my bones.

My door was wide open. The hinges bent all the way back, the light bled through the curtains. My already slow steps came to a halt when the threshold fell behind my legs. My bed was decorated with the same blue floral design it always had during the summers.

The pillows were placed where I always had them, and my blankets were hung so neat on the bottom of my bed. My fingers ran over the soft fabric like it wasn’t really mine. Like I was admiring a sample from a store, wishing it were mine. It was always so pretty.

My thumb hooked over the folded edge very carefully. I didn’t want to mess with the perfectly made bed. More importantly, I didn’t want to crease the remaining hand prints that laid in the center of the bed.

The plushy duvet left residue from bigger hands. Spread along the bends, from the center down. Proof that someone had truly tried their best to perfect it.

Looking under the top, not only had each layer been placed, but the fitted sheet. I could see it now with all its layers peeled back. The thought that even after my initial attempts to push away, to be mean, to hurt him, that Conrad had still wanted to help me made me feel warm. I wasn’t sure why my heart was fluttering for a boy I swore I hated. But my cheeks were red and my knees felt weak. I always did love his acts of service.

I didn’t plan on showering, but my skin was sticky with sleep and my heart was pounding too fast. I hated the fact that Conrad was too good for everyone in his own special ways. I hated the way he still cared and the way he remained so observant even in our absence. Most of all, I hate the way I reach for his shampoo in the shower. Longing for the scent of him to linger on me for just a little longer. How funny it is that we’ve changed so quickly and yet not at all. We used to share our hair products. He kept a hair tie for me in his bedside table. I had a drawer of clothes in his room, he had some in my closet. He went from my everything to just something in my life. Yet, with all this change I still reach for the familiarities of what we once had. My hand still searches the shower for his conditioner. My feet still take me to his door to find a shirt I like. What we had is gone, crushed under the weight of our separation, but my muscle memory pulls me back. The heart is a muscle, one that forever beats for Conrad Fisher.

I sit in the corner for longer than I lather the soap across my skin. My body is curled up against the cold tiles. I feel pathetic doing so. How small I’ve made myself. Not only mentally, but physically. I feel weak at how little self control I have. I think back on the past year of my life and I regret each decision I’ve made leading me here suddenly.

Was I not enough for Conrad? I know it’s not his reasoning behind his leaving, but I feel like the theory becomes more and more plausible the longer I think back on how lonely I’ve been. So stuck on my own problems, I forget how little I see my family. How Belly has grown without me. Her friends, her lovers. She is independent, she knows her path. Steven has matured. He understands feelings, he’s valedictorian. His brains lead him through life, he no longer comes to me at midnight to ask for help with math. I no longer review his essays or read his made up stories in the living room. We are two different siblings who once spent every moment together. My mother is nose deep in her own promotion with her books. She is succeeding while my father is going on dates and moving on. I am stuck in the same spot, forever thinking of the past, I can not move on.

I am scared by the knowledge that my family is no longer dependent on me. A scab is forming over the wound of the fact that Conrad has left, I am not needed. I hope the warm water fading into a cooler drizzle will hide the way my eyes are puffy and red. The streaks of water on cheeks will become streams of the shower. I am strong and resistant like my parents, but I am scared to admit that I have real fears. Ones that control my life. I will never tell them how I breakdown, how my heart is breaking and I am falling off the pedestal.

It’s more lively now then it was just an hour ago. The birds are gone, on vacation away in the warmer weather while the cold covers New England in a chilling blanket. I hear the mugs clattering from the hallways and the soft humming passing through his pink lips. He hears me before he sees me.

“Coffee?” He motioned to the brown liquid, steaming while it poured into the glass pitcher. Rubbing beneath my eyes, I could feel the weight of my eye bags heavy on my skin. My throat was coarse, hands aching from how hard I had grasped onto the shower walls. I hid behind the island counter on the stool. My body curled up into the baggy clothes covering my body, my knees hugging into my chest as close as possible.

“Yes, please.” I mumbled softly, trying not to show any weaknesses. Conrad knew me better than that. The way my lip twitched into a fake smile, how my eyes were more avoidant that usual. Even in my heavy feelings, my eyes were always drawn to him. I was closing myself off.

A beat passed. Conrad’s attempt at conversation had fallen short, right by my feet.

“How’d you sleep?” He turned to me, freshly brewed coffee sloshing around in the same mug as yesterday. He placed it in front of me, but he turned away again to pour his own cup. It wasn’t to further distance himself, creating a divide all while I was shutting down, but to give me room to breathe in a space I was so clearly suffocating in.

“It was okay.” I sighed, hand holding my head, my eyes closed. I imagined myself laid with my back pressed against plush pillows and my childhood bedroom fairy lights hanging over my head. It was still winter, but the atmosphere in my daydream felt of summer.

“I’m glad, then. That it wasn’t so bad, I mean.” He corrected himself, afraid of a wrath inside of me that didn’t exist to him anymore. It never really had, my emotions had only been misplaced yesterday.

Often I’ve been told that my words shoot to kill when I’m mad. I insult and belittle myself more than others, but my mother has no problem with bringing up the few times I targeted my feelings at Steven or Belly. How little I made them feel, how guilty I felt. I threw up once, after yelling at Steven. He hadn’t cared for it, fighting was what siblings did. But remembering how I tried to hurt him made me sick. I felt the same after insulting Conrad.

Nodding my head, I pursed my lips into a thin line. My eyes blinked away any dryness, I inhaled a deep breath.

“Hey, uhm…thank you, by the way.” I pulled the sleeves of my sweater over my hands, hovering over the cup of coffee to revel in the hot steam hitting my face.

Conrad turned around, leaning against the counter. His hands pressed up behind him, firm but his face was soft, glad.

“I shouldn’t have…you didn’t deserve that.” My eyes flickered between the floor and the folding of my sleeves over my thumbs. My skin was cold, my hair wet on the back of my neck. I had a lump in my throat.

“Y/n?” His voice was gentle, closer than before. I saw his elbows press against the counter top, just mere inches away. I felt even more awkward, littler than before somehow.

I hummed. But the coarseness in my throat made it come out as more of a rumble. I choked on the growing lump, my nose burned.

“We don’t have to avoid each other.” He said it like that was so easy. Like everything was resolved by him simply stating that he didn’t want to face the consequences of our actions.

“I know.” I brought the edge of the mug to my lips and blew. Steam clouded my vision, the wet heat felt nice on my cheeks.

“Y/n.” He said more firmly.

He wasn’t angry, but he wanted my attention. My eyes flickered up to his. They were darker now. Swarmed with so many emotions, it was hard to grasp onto what he was feeling. I set the mug down.

“Please don’t avoid me.” He begged more softly, his hand hesitated to reach out to me. Once they clasped around mine, it was almost relieving. Having something familiar to ground me while I was only working myself up. “I miss you, I miss us. We were best friends and we haven’t even spoken in…I don’t even know how long. This, this is stupid. To be running in circles like this?”

“That’s easy for you to say.” This time, my words weren’t angry. They broke apart when I spoke. The sentence was raw, the lump in my throat broke through my clenched teeth and my nose heated up in an intense burn. My eyes were heavy, working hard to keep any tears at bay. Again, here I find myself in a different spot, practicing the same habits. I stand in front of Conrad angry, ready to hurt his ego and pierce a hole through his heart just to ease my own mind.

I wanted exactly what he did, to be as close. I missed him more than anything in my life ever, but it wasn’t so simple. He pleaded my name again, I pulled my hands out of his. His fingers were like a barbed wire. It suddenly stung to have him touching me.

“I just wish you would’ve acknowledged it, you know? I mean look at me, look at us. You’re fine, you’re happy. I can’t even look at you without wanting to cry.” When our hearts broke, they broke uneven. Conrad was left with a bruise why I was facing the pain of a bleeding scar across my own. He had been the one to cause the rift, he had been the one to bring up everyone’s insecurities, use them against our relationship.

“Y/n.” He whispered, reaching out to me again. I stood from the stool, keeping my distance. My tears were hot, they burned into my skin.

“You couldn’t even stand me, Conrad! And I couldn’t see it before, but I can now. You couldn’t even text me, no. No, but that’s not the worst part. Maybe it’s the fact that you couldn’t even show up to Stevens graduation because I was there.” He sighed, ready to defend himself. I look back on all the disappointed faces, I remember the way Steven frowned at that empty seat beside me and I feel angry.

“Do you know how hard it is to tell your baby brother that his hero couldn’t make it to his graduation because he can’t even stand to be around me? Do you know how sad he was when he started to walk up to the podium and saw your seat was empty? I recorded it and sent it to you, did you know that? I wasn’t going to, I didn’t think you deserved to have a part in one of the most important parts in Stevens life, but he begged me to. Tried to make me send it twice so you’d get it.” I took a deep breath, wiping away the tears by my eyes, more spilled. My face was wet with salt water and red with anger.

“So why don’t we go back to how things were before after you’ve fucked it all up!”

“It’s really fucking unfair of you to act like this hasn’t affected me at all either!” He finally shot back. He was never one to yell. Conrad always had some sort of control over his composure. He never yelled, he hated yelling.

“How, how can you say that after you’ve done nothing to fix anything!” Walking closer to him, I saw how he turned away to grip the counter between his fingers.

“People deal with shit differently, Y/n. Grow up!” He yelled. His eyes were wild, it should’ve scared me. But god, him telling me to grow up after all he put me through only made me angrier. I was fragile already. But not as a flower, but a bomb.

“Fuck you, Conrad.” My voice was shaky, but firm. I didn’t yell, my lack of volume was almost scarier than my inevitable rage. He looked up at me, it was like watching him realize how his words had betrayed him. He hadn’t meant for us to fight, to talk like this. He wanted to fix things. He wanted me back.

“Y/n.” He shook his head, walking closer to me, he bent away from the edges of the island to reach me quicker. His voice was laced with pity

“Stop saying my name!” I backed away, feet catching on the threshold, I slowed myself down. Each time he said it, it pulled on my heartstrings. How could he be so selfish to not even be able to see all the pain I’ve been put through!

“I’ve missed you ever since I left you! You think I don’t regret the way I treated you? I’m not naïve to my own stupidity, I know my mistakes, I’ve owned them. You were my everything, god you might as well have hung the stars!” He waved his hands around to animate what he was saying. It only stresses me out more.

“Then why? Why did you throw it all away!” My body began to crumble beneath me, my knees wobbled.

“Because I was scared! I was scared of losing you. I thought if I let myself become too obsessed, that if you decided to leave me I would never be able to get back up. I had to do it!” He confessed. It all made sense then. All my unanswered questions, all my insecurities of not being enough. Conrad hadn’t left because I couldn’t give him what he wanted. He left because he was scared of what would happen when I was gone. That he wasn’t enough.

“I wouldn’t have left you, Conrad. I wouldn’t have.” My palms hit my eyes, my knees started to give. A sob ripped through my throat. It hurt to breathe.

His arms were like a blanket. His hands still fit perfectly around my back. When he held me, it was tight. I knew it then that he wouldn’t be letting me go, not now. His shirt was wet with my tears, mine was wet with my hair. I felt stupid, naïve to think of Conrad in such bad ways when he had only been doing what he thought was best to protect his heart after loss after loss.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I repeated it like a prayer, I didn’t mean to be so mean. I didn’t want to be rude to him, I wanted him to be close to me always. His heart was beating out of his chest when he nodded. He knew I never meant to fight him. We were both entitled to our feelings, there was no reason in trying to apologize for how we reacted.

His hand lifted to my head, brushing through my hair. He gathered a chunk in his palm, his knuckles gripping at it. It didn’t hurt, he didn’t intend for it to. He was breathing me in, holding onto me in every which way possible.

“It’s going to be okay, we’re going to be okay.” My sobs were muffling themselves, quieting down into soft whimpers. It took a lot to even nod my head against his shirt. It smelled like him, and it was homely. I felt safer now than in our argument. Our words held no value anymore, I just hoped that what he said was true.

Holding her like that almost made things feel normal again. Having her hair in between my fingers and her waist pressed against mine. I wanted to revel in it, selfishly. But her sniffles and uneven breath only made me remember why I even got the privilege to hold her again.

Again and again, I watched her breakdown over a mistake I made. To protect myself. I swore it to her last winter, promised her that it would always be my favorite season because she was my favorite thing. I built up this trust and a love between us. It was when she left that I freaked out over what my mom said.

“I’ve never seen you so happy.” She had said, poncho bc my cheek between her fingers. Playfully, I pulled my face away.

“Yea?” I mused, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and watched the steady snowfall on the final night of winter through the window.

“The love bug’s got you.” She was right. I was so undeniably in love with Y/n. I would change everything in my life just to be with her always.

“What?” My eyes squinted from the way my eyebrows furrowed. She was still looking out into the snow.

“It’s okay to be in love, Connie.” She quickly turned to me and smoothed out my shirt. She sensed my confusion and stress. I knew I was in love with her, but the fact that it was that obvious, that clear made me worry.

“Everyone has their first love at some point.” With that she left. At some point. The words rung through my head. I knew that the first love was always the strongest, but this was not my first love. I had fallen for an ex-girlfriend in freshman year. She broke my heart. Why was the thought of Y/n leaving shattering mine completely?

The more I thought of us together then, the more I worried about her leaving. She was perfect for me, maybe. But could I even measure up to her perfection? Could I give her everything?

I was able to push that feeling away for a few weeks. But as winter turned to spring and the leave began to regrow, I couldn’t shake it. Distance was a thing I was only growing between us. Space, something I created so there was no way we could get hurt. I thought it was the right thing, then. I thought it was the right move for me to let her leave so easily. To watch her fight for me one last time and not react. I was giving her the chance for someone more, someone better. I didn’t know I was only breaking her heart in ways I worried I would break my own.

It was a guilt I lived with all these months. When she didn’t come up to cousins because she wasn’t feeling good, I knew why. I had avoided her like the plague after our last conversation, our first real fight. I couldn’t even show up for her family in one of their most important milestones. Now it seemed like we only fight now, or at least in these past couple hours.

My neck was stiff from how it leaned against the back of the couch. I hadn’t watched past the hour mark of the black and white movie Conrad had put on. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I no longer liked it.

The movie was all I watched when I was at my absolute worst. Not to say I wasn’t still there, I felt rock bottom beneath my feet, but I felt myself getting better slowly. I no longer spent each day rewatching the same film over and over to ease the pain and remind myself of a happier time. I hated the way they talked. I once found it romantic, but the old cracking in the sound and the fancy accents made me angry. None of it was real.

To Conrad, he only did what he thought I would like. He had no way of knowing of my new distaste to the movie. One I used to rave about for hours. Then again, he never asked.

Yawning, I felt a set of eyes on mine.

“Tired?” He asked, a small smile on his face. I waved him off.

“Nope.” I popped the ‘p.’ It was an easy lie, my dark circles and slouchy posture gave it away. There was no way to sell it. I was surprised when he didn’t push me on it. My eyes drooped, my cheek pressed to my lonely shoulder. I had no one to lean on. I curled into myself a little, all while silently telling myself I was awake.

A pillow hit my lip, I bit down a little but it didn’t hurt me. My eyes were wide open now, hair messed up around the top. My fly aways were all over the place, my eyes squinting.

“Hey!” Grabbing the corners of the pillow, I swung as hard as I could towards Conrad, the culprit. It his his chest, he groaned out in a heavy breath. The pillow was soft, I was sure it didn’t hurt. But he entertained the idea that it did by rubbing circles in his chest, wincing and hissing through his teeth. I rolled my eyes.

“Seriously?” I leaned back against the cushions again, placing the pillow comfortably over my lap. I heard him laugh. A real, genuine laugh. It felt like weight was lifted off of my back.

“What! That was one of my best performances.” He punched my shoulder. I shot him playful glares. He pushed at me again, begging for a reaction. I folded already, giving into his games and retaliating against his childish attacks. But I would not crumble so easily. I would not let him tease me and play me until I opened up again just hours after yet another fight. I worried that another would ensue.

Sitting up, I tossed the pillow back at him. The sound he made confirmed it had hit him in the face.

“Come on, where are you going?” I could hear the smile in his voice. It made me smile too, knowing he was happy.

“To bed, I am tired.” I didn’t look back, but I felt him watching.

I swore I heard words die on his tongue. A soft stutter to a dead silence. Like he wanted to protest but stopped himself somehow. He never saw me look back, but when I was turning to the stairs, I allowed myself a glimpse.

His eyes were spacey, lip pulled between his front teeth. His eyebrows furrowed. He was deep in thought, but I could see the disappointment in his face. He didn’t seem as full of life, as cheerful. We were rebuilding a childhood, best friend bond that was lost with in cracking of our foundations in the spring.

“Goodnight, Conrad.” I still hadn’t had the ability to carry a joke with him. To keep a conversation flowing without my emotions dying inside of me before I could get them out. I whispered my goodnight. I wanted him to know I still held a place in my heart for him, but part of me wanted to reserve that knowledge to only myself.

I was scared to be more than what was being proposed. The door was open, we were almost friends. It was an odd spot. We’d act like friends, joke like them, but we both knew what we had done, what had just happened. I would walk through the entrance if Conrad would allow it. If we could at least be close, even if his lips weren’t mine, even if his body wasn’t there for me to lean on anymore. I would live happily, I’d be able to put on a brave face and call myself his friend. I would stand by the alter, watching him find another love, burying the hatchet of our love for good and I would be okay, I decided. As long as I still had him. As long as I never had to feel as alone as I did this morning.

“They’re saying borderline blizzard conditions, Con. You don’t think we’ll need to go on a supply run, do you?” His back was turned to me, hands working over the pot of coffee skillfully. His thumb brushed against the glass, he hissed quietly and shook his hand off.

“I think you’re just overthinking it.” He payed my worry not attention. He knew this house better than I did. It would hold, that wasn’t the worry. We had no shovels, nothing to dig us out of snow were to block us in. I scoffed and rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. I made my way around the island, pushing myself off of the counter and into one of the stools perched under it.

“Coffee?” Conrad asked, ignoring my questions again. I gave into him, playing his game and being stubborn.

“What kind?” My fingers drew circles on the cold marble.

“Black.” He set the cup down in front of me, letting it come to a halt right in front of me. My eyes flickered to the coffee, a smirk fighting it’s way onto my cheeks.

“Like your soul?” Like your heart, is what I wanted to say. Something that used to come so easy, meaningless insults directed at him not to make him sad, but to make him smile. I still hadn’t answered by question, though. If I were to direct a remark at his heart, would it weigh too much under the cracking foundation of our recovering friendship? I still wondered if he would laugh at that and go along with it.

Conrad laughed, looking out the window and admiring the sky. He didn’t respond, but he never really had when I’d make those jokes. Usually he would laugh or tell me it was a good one. He sighed lightly.

“I walked right into that one.” He smiled down at his coffee now, holding the mug loose with the handle dangling between his fingers.

When silence took over the room, it wasn’t uncomfortable. We welcomed it. We were alone with our thoughts and for once, they weren’t twisted and heavy. Only happy memories and thoughts of old habits.

In my mind, I dreamed of times where I knew what to say after making a joke. What I could do to counter a snarky remark and his laughter. I always knew what to say to him, when and why. I knew what made him tick. I still knew how to set him off, I believe that once you have the ability to get under someone’s skin, you never truly lose it. Either you continue to poke at the wounds that hurt them so, or your presence is able to remind them of it. Yet, with all the loss in my every heartbeat, somewhere along the way I forgot how to keep him happy.

Conrad’s footsteps snapped me out of my clouded haze. My eyes snapped up from the counter to his face. He didn’t look at me, but stayed focused on his coffee.

“Glad to know you still got it.” His eyes flicked to me, I swear I saw him wink. It was so quick, my words died in a pathetic stutter. I smiled stupidly at him, I couldn’t even pretend to be snarky. It caught me off guard, somehow. My walls were torn down now, the barrier of anger and sadness I kept up around him to keep us apart gone with our last fight and heart to hearts. The devils in the details, but somehow it didn’t feel as deep, as life changing anymore.

It was like he knew I couldn’t think of something to promise to him. To keep us going. He surely hadn’t lost it.

I tried to rationalize everything recently. But it felt like it took over my life. I’d almost forgotten about Belly and Steven. How they’d been so quick to shut me out simply because someone had offered me a place to be wanted for a moment. Conrad always knew when to swoop in to save me. I could help but talk myself down every so often and convince myself that Conrad is not made of Angel dust. He simply is a man, and a smart one at that. All of this could be just to butter me up, I know it’s always an outcome. A way to win me back, but never want me the same. It poisons me to think about him that way, I know him. He would never play me to become the good guy.

My mind has no middle line. Constantly wavering between my lover, the man I see as the sky and the seas. I see him as a perfect lipstick stain to a white collar, uggs in the fall, hot chocolate in the winter. He is all things I love and yet I still fight. The other part of me fights my heart to keep my distance. How just hours ago I told myself the hate I had for Conrad was always going to be just that, irreversible hurt that he caused. It’s the sweetest torture I could bare in the fact that really, by the end of it my mind is set on just getting to be with him again. No matter what his games are.

It’s pathetic, but my heart strings pull a little whenever I hear his footsteps upstairs. When I can tell if he’s coming to see me or not. I like knowing he likes to be around me once more. It almost covers up the fact that he hurt me so bad. I’m not idiot, however. I wish I were in some cases, but I’m not blinded completely by my love. With every advance, I find a way to make it platonic. He’s my friend.

He said he missed me, our friendship bond. I know that he is a man of his word. I should not work myself up, I shouldn’t expect so much. I shouldn’t jump into his arms because he says go. I think rationally, I use my head. I let my heart race and my cheeks flush but ultimately my brain will stop me from messing about again. So part of me finds it sad when the power goes out later that day. For both the house and myself. It’s childish how quickly I jump in search of Conrad. I have to remind myself not to hold onto him, not to yell I told you so.

I call for his name quietly through the halls, feeling the chipping paint under my finger tips. It’s still fresh, but bumpy. A previous project of Susannah’s from when her paint brushes never seemed to dry out. It’s hard to tell if she never finished her projects that summer. Or even if she never finished any.

In the dark, it’s almost more clear to see where her brush strokes end. Where the moonlight illuminates the white and blues, you can see the divides between old and new. God, if she were any less attentive it would surely be the end of this house. It was in great condition, but some things were out of place, uncared for simply because Susannah’s mind went a mile a minute.

Smiling, I let my hands run over the wall, feet planting on the cold wood. I could feel it through my socks, with the lights out and the heat stuttering to a halt.

“Y/n/n, hey.” He sounded breathless, coming up from behind me. I hadn’t even noticed the stomping of his feet up the staircase as my fingers danced along the wall. So caught up in the past I find it that sometimes I forget that I’m living in my present. Looking around my metaphorical room in my mind, I see my chosen family. I see his brother as mine, his mother as mine. I see myself as a child again running through the sand and tracking mud through the dining room.

I know deep down I can not keep holding on, keep on keeping myself back. I can never give Conrad peace, but I can give him my sunshine, my best. He would always have a friend in me. I set my heart free then, fingers stuck to the wall, eyes flickering to my feet. I let go of my heart break and my solemn silences I throw at my loved ones for guilt. I let my walls down, I take Conrad’s hand, and I shake my head. His smile is warm, his eyes loving. He still needs me, he always has. He still loves me and my heart is racing. I finally feel like I have him back.

“You okay?” Back in reality, I’m aware that I’m not actually holding onto his hand, and Conrad isn’t really smiling at me. My heart is still in its cage and I have fallen victim to my own mind again. Conrad is not mine.

Clearing my throat, I lick at the corners of my lips. When I shake my head this time, I know it’s real because Conrad is looking at me questioningly. He is not in love with me, he is not drooling over me. The power is still out and our muddy footprints mean nothing to him anymore.

“We blew a fuse, but the generators dead. We’re just going to have to stick it out.” I nodded again, looking up at him with doe eyes. My lips were glossy with a sheen coat of spit from how much I licked them, but at them nervously. Yet, he didn’t even spare me a glance. It was almost like he was waiting on something.

“You can say it.” He finally sighed.

“Say what?” His eyes caught mine, seeing just how intently my eyes focused on his dimples and the bridge of his nose decorated with delicate freckles. I cleared my throat.

“You told me so.” He smiled, punching my shoulder playfully. He could tell my mind was drifting, he could see it, I saw the way his eyes softened. My gentle smile turned into a shit-eating grin.

A beat passed, he continued waiting on me in the dark room. I liked it in some odd ways. Enjoyed having him waiting on me for once. It wasn’t the same. How my heart waited for his apologies for so long, how I expected it because I knew one day he would come back to me to make things right in his own way. But somehow, his desire for my once overlooked jokes and brushed off comments made my cheeks warm. Like more than me in this moment, he wanted the normal us back.

“Are you going to…” He voice trailed off, my feet picked up against the cold wood floor.

“Why don’t you start the fire? I’m going to get some blankets.” I tucked the hair behind my ear, practically running to the staircase. He nodded, not that I could see it, but the silence confirmed that he had forgotten that I couldn’t truly see his nod. That along with a soft hum of approval from him.

“Oh, and Conrad.” He hummed again. His eyes glistened in the moonlight, shining brighter than any other object standing in the hallway. He waited on me patiently, slowly inching closer.

“I told you so.”

The best of blankets and pillows sprawled put along the living room floor helped to further nestle us against the foot of our white couch. The snowfall and the storm felt less like an inconvenience but a gift.

I was reminded of my childhood. Of first snowfalls and broken ice skates. Red noses and icy hair. I remember how even after the facade of perfect holidays and new years kisses faded into nothing more than a dream, how my heart still soared with excitement each coming fall. How I couldn’t wait to see the snowy powder decorating my front lawn. I get reminded of why I drove so long to see Conrad. Of his warm hugs and his soft mittens. Wearing his hats and stumbling around in the backyard. I feel less hurt by the company than I once did a few days ago. I feel blessed that by some miracle, fate had string Conrad and I back together. That his hands would forever paint my hands in a gentle love we only held, and his whispers of senseless jokes he mumbled tiredly were only mine to laugh at.

The fire crackled, roaring feverishly through the night. The snow and wind pounded against the sides of the house, and despite the chills running through my toes and my fingers, I felt warmer inside than before, rekindling our inside jokes and fueling ourselves for even more.

Soon, our soft laughter and ongoing conversations died out. Our eyes glued to the flames, I tried to catch a glimpse into Conrad’s eyes. I wanted to know what the fire would look like reflected into his blue eyes. Instead, I caught his gaze locked onto my face.

I felt embarrassed, in a way. Vulnerable under his gaze. I felt my cheeks heat up and my body tingle. I felt like a school girl again.

“Y/n/n.” He called for me softly. The only way I was sure that he’d even said it was the fact that my eyes were so trained in his pink lips. I nodded slowly.

“Why did you come down here? Why now?” Even though the question was serious, I couldn’t help but to smile at his curiosity in my life.

Taking a deep breath, I watched his flat face turn into a welcoming grin.

“Lately, I’ve just been caught up in the past, I guess. I’m just so used to coming home every winter to Steven and Belly in the living room already fighting. And my dad and mom arguing about what decorations playfully.” Conrad laughed like he could picture it. He’d never really been in my house during the holidays. Sure, the Fisher family would stop by every few months when the distance became too much, but holiday’s were usually spent apart.

“I guess when I came home this year and that wasn’t there, I kind of freaked a little. I mean, Steven just left, Belly was too caught up in her own life to care about what I wanted to do, how much time we had left. My dad was too busy to stop by and…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I almost allowed the words to slip, how the final straw was that even with the mess of my family, at least at one point I had Conrad. I had his gentle hands and his quiet promises to hold onto. When everything went to hell, it was like losing the last bit of peace. “I wanted to be somewhere I wouldn’t feel alone, I guess.” I replaced my words with this. Hoping he’d understand how much he meant to me, how much all of it meant to me.

The single puff of air coming harshly through his mouth in a sigh reminded me just how close we were. How I could feel each word falling from his lips fanning over my shoulder. We were sharing a blanket, so close yet our bodies so far.

“Y/n.” He sounded more serious. During my confession, I found a home in the floorboards. Feeling safer confessing to the air than to a man who destroyed me not so long ago. My eyes hesitated to meet his, but I could see just how serious he was.

“I regret what happened between us more than anything I’ve ever done in my life. I know I can’t reverse that, but please never say you are alone. I swear to you, no matter what, I’m there.” It was rare to hear such thing from Conrad. Maybe a grunt of a hug to assure my feelings were always appreciated. But I could see the sincerity in his face, his voice was dripping with guilt. He meant it, every word.

Nodding my head, I silently thanked him. I watched his eyes search my face. How his lips parted but shut quickly. He decided against continuing, but it was like an unspoken apology was being said between us in that moment.

With gravity pulling us together, it was only in my nature to protect my heart. I had to rip us apart before I gave in without knowing if we’d ever be the same. If I kissed him and it was just a winter fling, I couldn’t take another heartbreak.

So, in our silence, I moved my hand between us. The pad of my thumb brushing away the charcoal from the fire dusting just under his cheek. I watched how he shivered and backed away, eyes fluttering shut. All while I bit at my lip, delicate in the way I rubbed away the dust.

“Are my hands cold?” I remained focused in on him, my lips curled into a smile seeing his reaction to my touch, how he shivered but didn’t complain. He nodded his head slowly, but his eyes were still closed.

I saw how his eyebrows furrowed, it wasn’t from discomfort, but in the low light it was hard to tell. My hand curled away, ready to ease the coldness off of his skin. I didn’t expect his own hand to cover mine, holding it against his now rosy cheeks.

“Feels nice.” He mumbled almost drowsily. His eyes still hidden behind his eyelids, his other hand found mine aimlessly, gently pressing it to his other cheek. I felt his weight sink into my palms, reveling in my touch.

The band suddenly snapped. All the tension, all the build up. He was right there, so eager, so gentle. I had to know if he was still the same boy I loved not too long ago. He had set me up for an old joke.I always wondered if I could still joke with him like this. It still gnawed at me some nights.

“It’s because you’re cold hearted.” I expected him to laugh, I hoped he would. But instead, he smiled just as genuine as his old laughter, melting into my touch more than I thought he could ever. I hadn’t been able to predict what he would tell me. Couldn’t have read his lips even if I could see into the future.

“For everyone else, maybe. But not for you.” He was as honest as a man could be. With his eyelashes fluttering open, I could see it in his eyes now. How they looked back at me wide and awake. I felt my stomach flip. There was something there I had previously missed. Dancing along with the glowing of the fire in his irises, was the same spark he once carried when I was his and he was mine.

I didn’t even get to challenge it, teasing him and making him repeat his confessions. My lips stuttered on the first syllable, just before his hands smushed my cheeks with the force of how he grabbed me. He was firm, but not aggressive. He could never hurt me.

His lips molded against mine perfectly in my mind. He tasted like mint and hot chocolate. My hands tangled in his hair, his palms flat against my waist. With so little space between us, so much fever and pent up frustration, air became harder and harder to get. With each touch of his fingers, it was like tiny fires being sparked across my body.

He hadn’t even had to tell me what he felt then. Neither did I. In that moment my walls crumbled beneath my feet. All resistance was gone. In Conrad’s grasp, I felt less alone.

I knew it then. To Conrad, my mind games I played on myself, my temper and the storms that would inevitably cloud up my sunniest days, the fact that I could never give him peace did not matter. We would always be enough.

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher angst #conrad x reader #tsitp conrad #conrad x you #tsitp s2 #tsitp x reader #tsitp x y/n #fisher x reader #team conrad #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x reader

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callsign-rogueone · 1 month

Text

intimacy alphabet - a.g.

Aaric Graycastle x gn!reader

The A to Z’s of sleeping with Aaric. (anybody remember this template from back in the day? if you do, it’s time to open a retirement account.)

words: 1.4k

🏷: NSFW. no real plot spoilers, just some stuff about Aaric, so if you haven’t met him yet, maybe skip this one and come back later lol. anyway, this is just a bunch of sexy headcanons about our sweet prince. mentions of penetrative sex, oral, and fingering, (all reader receiving) but I made it gender neutral.

I did this for research and development for his upcoming girlfriendverse fic (which I am writing completely out of order, of course), but I figured I’d give it to y’all as an apology / peace offering because I haven’t been feeding you much lately. enjoy! :)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

ever the gentleman; cleans you both up and makes sure that you’re okay, gives you soft praise. very nice to cuddle with; he’s content to let you use him like a body pillow and just wrap yourself around him and fall asleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he likes his own build; he’s tall (as tall as Xaden, I believe) and pretty well-muscled from all of his intense training over the years. he likes the softer parts of you that he can press his fingers into, likes the feeling of your bare skin under his hands.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

standard stuff. will cum where you tell him to, no strong feelings about it. he’s a very clean guy, so he’ll wipe it up quickly after.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

thinking about his biggest secret of all… if you happen to let out a soft “oh, fuck, Cam,” when he’s buried deep inside you, he might stop being so gentle. but a truly dirty secret? hm… I’ll have to get back to you on that one.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

look me in the eye and tell me that the rebellious youngest prince of the Navarrian royal family hasn’t been around the block a bit. he’s had people falling at his feet for years because of his status.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

fond of missionary, you riding him, or anything where he can see your face and the cute little expressions you make when he’s making you feel good (and have you look into those gorgeous green eyes of his while he takes you apart. he’s very much into eye contact.)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he does not strike me as a “funny guy”. he’s pretty serious, but will laugh with you about small things like if you accidentally bump heads when changing positions, etc. (then he’ll kiss it better and go back to business as usual)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he keeps his face clean-shaven, so he’s probably doing some maintenance downstairs, too. he’s a very neat and tidy guy.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

pretty romantic, but not like, trail-of-rose-petals type romantic. just a lot of eye contact, soft praise, and definitely some “I love you’s” later on in the relationship. I don’t see him as a casual sex guy — I think he’s done with that phase of his life and he’d rather pick one person and love them with his whole heart.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I don’t think he takes matters into his own hands very often. he doesn’t strike me as a very horny guy, and it’s hard to find the time and space to crank one out when you’re living in college dorms with a roommate (and trying not to die all the time). he much prefers to do things with you instead, anyway.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

some things I’ve mentioned already; praise, eye contact, you saying his name… idk if its a kink per se, but he wants to hear you. he loves all the soft sounds you make when you’re needy (being vocal during a makeout session is almost sure to escalate things). he gets off on getting you off, and it gives his ego a boost to know he’s making you feel so good that you can’t form words, just pretty little moans and whimpers.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

his room or yours, that's it. he’s not an exhibitionist; he values his reputation, and doesn’t want to get either of you into trouble. you might be able to convince him to mess around in the shower before / after the main event, but that’s about it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

you, and the fact that you’re his. I know that feels like a cop-out answer, but it’s true. he’ll look over and see you in his bed in the morning, the early sunlight warming your skin, and he's ready to go.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I absolutely cannot see him wanting to be called by his title, etc. nope. no way. he despises it, and he also wants to know that you love him for him, and not his status. he also doesn’t want to hurt you during sex — there’s enough pain in your lives already. when that door closes behind you, it's only soft touches and gentle pleasure.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he had done more receiving than giving until he met you. he learned what you like (and how much he likes giving it to you) very quickly and now he won’t hesitate to get on his knees for you, especially if you ask nicely. he likes to use his mouth and hands at the same time for maximum effect. he’ll never decline head from you either, but it doesn’t happen often; he’s more focused on you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he fucks like a prince: proper. usually nice and deep and slow, taking his time with you and making you feel every movement. on occasion, if you rile him up enough or piss him off, he might give it to you (see also: make you take it) a little rougher.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

see above. has only happened once, and it kinda backfired (you ended up being late to formation and getting bitched at by the wingleader). now he won’t try anything unless he has at least an hour alone with you (enough for proper foreplay and some aftercare.)

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

the two of you will experiment a little bit, mostly with new movements, etc., but you keep things pretty simple. if it ain’t broke… (and it certainly isn’t).

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

your record is three rounds in one night, four if you count the morning after. you haven’t really had the time to try and beat it; school and training takes a lot out of you, and you’d simply rather sleep sometimes — but you’re both content to keep things at one round most nights, or just cuddle instead.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I don’t see him owning or using toys (though it remains unclear what options they have in this universe). after he manifests a signet, that might come into play depending on what it is, but for now he feels like he has plenty of options already (his fingers, tongue…)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he’s not a huge tease, but will make you ask for nearly everything with words, even if it's embarrassing to you, but he wants to know that you truly want this, and he finds it so cute to hear you beg for him and only him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he’s a talker, telling you how good you feel around him, how pretty you look under him, etc. sound-wise, if he’s in control, you’ll just get the occasional soft gasp / panting. if you’re in control, you might hear some whimpering… either way, he sounds so pretty. you should tell him that, and see what happens (the praise kink goes both ways.)

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he only saw sex as a way to fulfill a biological need until he met you, and realized it could be so much more — he’s never truly loved any of his hookup partners. definitely some things he had to unpack there after your first time.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he’s tall, and pretty lean… the laws of nature dictate that he’s hung. I don’t make the rules.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

not super high, but he usually rolls with you — if you’re down, he’s down. simple as that.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he can’t fall asleep until you do, but that usually isn’t a problem; he’ll tire you out / relax you real nice every time. A+ cuddler, as we discussed earlier.

there you have it 🤷🏻‍♀️

I’m very excited for y’all to meet Aaric and Sunny. two sneak peeks posted so far + a few thousand more words in my docs, hehe

#aaric graycastle #Aaric graycastle x reader #preemptively tagging this as #Aaric and Sunny #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing smut #mine #18+#once again posting from my phone and I’ll reformat later (maybe)

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roguerambles · 1 year

Text

Pacts

One Piece - Reader x Gol D Roger x Silvers Rayleigh x Scopper Gaban

Warnings - 18+Only

I’m not sure about this one, and the One Piece rewatch has been progressing slowly, but I’m trying to kick the writer’s block, so have some silliness with Rayleigh, Roger and Scopper bickering over their single shared braincell.

You had settled in well with the Roger Pirates.

You worked hard, your wit as sharp as the knives you used in battle, and you had displayed absolutely no trouble keeping up with the crew. What you lacked in experience you made up for with enthusiasm, cunning and sheer, raw nerve.

You were also as pretty as you were clever, a combination of traits that never failed to pleasantly heat Silvers Rayleigh’s blood. Charm was as deadly as a dagger in the hands of someone who knew how to use it, and from how you had half the ship practically eating out of your hand, you certainly did.

This presented a potential problem, as he was definitely not the only member of the crew to notice. He’d seen you coyly stroking Scopper’s arm, the man’s eyes flaring and his smirk pleased. And Roger had certainly taken you under his wing since your arrival, but his gaze had begun to linger the way it did on a particular shiny piece of treasure he wanted to get his hands on lately. And Rayleigh would be lying if the flirtatious looks and comments you’d been sending his direction hadn’t peaked his interest considerably.

“I’m only saying.” Rayleigh murmured over drinks on deck, enjoying a brief moment of peace on the Oro Jackson. “Bedding the same crewmate can lead to…awkwardness.”

Scopper barked out a laugh, flashing a sharp grin over his mug. “Yeah, because that’s stopped anyone on this ship before.”

“Hey, what happens at port stays at port.” Rayleigh kicked him under the table. “But let’s say three of the higher ranked members of this crew started sleeping with the same woman. People might think we’re favouring her.”

Roger looked genuinely puzzled. “Who?”

Rayleigh sometimes struggled with the fact he trusted his captain with his life at moments like this. “Our newest recruit, captain. The one who’s breasts you can’t stop staring at.”

Gol D Roger was a man who lived completely without shame, so he merely grinned at Rayleigh’s accusation. “They are beautiful.”

They were, but that was beside the point. “I think we should agree to keep things…uncomplicated, while we’re at sea, at least.”

“Silvers Rayleigh showing restraint around a beautiful woman?” Scopper threw his head back with a booming laugh. “Someone tell Shakuyaku. She’ll want to know what the hell you’ve done to her husband.”

Rayleigh rolled his eyes with a smirk. “Do we have an agreement or not?”

“Oh, come on, Rayleigh.” Scopper tilted his head back, gulping more of his ale. “Don’t you think you’re overthinking this—?”

“What are you three gossiping about?”

Rayleigh turned in his chair to see you walking up from below deck, shrugging out of your long overcoat. The thin shirt you wore underneath hugged your torso appreciatively and Rayleigh felt his grip tighten on his mug without thinking.

Fuck.

“What the hell happened to you?” Scopper snorted, nodding towards your coat. Rayleigh realised the material was covered in some kind of…pudding?

You huffed and rolled your eyes, coming to stand near the table. “Apparently Shanks and Buggy thought clean up the dining hall meant have a food fight. You’re looking at the last casualty.” You tilted your head back to call across the ship, your voice echoing around. “Before I toss those two overboard at least!”

There was a bustle of frantic movement from behind some barrels and a flash of bright red hair out of the corner of Rayleigh’s eye. “Run!”

Roger and Scopper howled with laughter as the boys scrambled below deck, and you shook your head with a playful grin. Rayleigh chuckled deeply, watching as you moved around to where Roger was sitting, your hand brushing against his arm and sliding slightly over his bicep. The material of your shirt rode up slightly, showing off a strip of skin above your waist, and Rayleigh made a mental note to make sure Shanks and Buggy got extra servings at dinner tomorrow.

“Anyway, I’m going for a bath.” You leaned against Roger’s arm, your curves pressing lightly against his shoulder. Rayleigh found himself watching intently – noting the way Scopper’s throat bobbed out of the corner of his eye – while Roger looked up at you, his grin broadening. “Can you cover first watch for me, Captain?”

It was an awfully bold request for a member of the crew to make to the ship’s captain, but the soft flutter of your eyelashes and the slight curve of your lips was enough to quicken Rayleigh’s pulse. Roger grinned broadly, his eyes drooping slightly to trail down your neckline as he spoke.

“Sure thing.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Your lips grazed Roger’s cheek – lucky bastard – and you slipped from the table, lightly running your fingers across the back of Scopper’s shoulders, shooting a coy smile in Rayleigh’s direction. “Gentlemen.”

Rayleigh was thinking some decidedly ungentlemanly thoughts as together they watched you walk away, eyes glued to the slight sway of your hips. The three men sat in silence, Roger’s expression dimming slightly as realisation seemed to hit him.

“Fuck.”

��Alright.” Scopper cleared his throat, tilting his head back to down the rest of his ale. “Maybe you got a point, Rayleigh.”

It took Rayleigh a second to remember what he had been talking about before you’d arrived, and he shook his head, lifting his drink. “So we have a pact, boys?”

“Aye.” Both Roger and Scopper tapped their drinks against his and the three drank deep, and the rest of the evening passed in friendly banter and companionship.

By the week’s end the pact had been thoroughly broken by all three men, although who had done so first would be something they would argue amongst themselves for the rest of their days.

Rayleigh wasn’t sure exactly what had brought him to that section of the Oro Jackson that evening – it was a small, secluded room more often than not used as storage, but there had been nothing in particular he had been looking for when he heard the voices.

“Oh, fuck yes, sweetheart—”

His ears perked up at the sound of a deep voice groaning, accompanied by melodic laughter. The sharp screech of bedsprings and the playful growl of a man, followed by the sensual moan of a woman.

“Hmmmmm!….Scopper…!”

Rayleigh recognised both voices, and quietly stepped towards the door. The slightest sliver of space allowed him to peer into the room, dimly lit by orange light

“Fuck….! Fuck…! You feel so fucking good…!”

The muscles in Scopper’s broad back flexed and contracted, his hips thrusting with sharp, precise movements. Strong thighs clenched tight around his waist, only a thin blanket barely clinging to their lower bodies, locked together. Hands raked up and down Scopper’s back, your voice rising as you tilted your head back, moaning in sheer carnal delight.

…Fuck.

You twisted suddenly, shifting positions and pushing Scopper onto his back, the bed squeaking noisily beneath you both. Scopper laughed, tossing his head back, long dark hair slayed wildly across the pillows. “That’s it…oh sweetheart that’s it…fucking ride me—”

He groaned deeply, the tight muscles of his abdomen flexing hard as you sank down on him, his large hands grasping your hips, guiding you as you began to bounce up and down. Rayleigh felt his grip on the doorframe tighten so hard he was surprised the wood didn’t crack.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…! Yes, yes, ride me, that’s it sweetheart, fuck you feel so fucking good—holy fuck, Rayleigh—!”

Scopper gave a rather undignified yelp, his eyes locking on Rayleigh’s. He shot upwards so suddenly he nearly knocked you clean off him, causing you to cry out in alarm and grip his broad shoulders for security. Rayleigh stood frozen for a moment, before releasing his hold on the door, letting it slowly creek open.

You and Scopper stared at Rayleigh with wide eyes, and he stared back, the three of you standing in total silence. Thudding footsteps came from down the hall, and Rayleigh tore his gaze away to see Roger bounding towards him, his grin broad.

“Hey, Rayleigh, have you seen—EHHHHHHHHHH?!”

You hid your face in the back of Scopper’s shoulder, while the man groaned and rubbed his fingers against his temple. “You guys have awful timing—”

“Traitor!” Roger pointed theatrically, adopting an outraged expression. “You forsake our pact!”

“Will you stop yelling and get out already—”

“Wait, what pact—?”

“That’s rich coming from you, Roger.” Rayleigh tossed a smirk his Captain’s way, smugly noting the way his shoulders tightened and his face grew quickly nervous. “I saw you and her sneaking off together the other day—”

“What--?!”

“Aha!” Roger clapped his hands together loudly, recovering quickly to flash a triumphant grin. “We agreed not to bed her at sea. That was on that island we stopped at the other day—”

“Hang on, what—?!”

“That doesn’t count!” Scopper slid off the edge of the bed, blanket hastily tied around his waist – you grabbed his discarded shirt from the table nearby, looking around at them in total bewilderment.

“I’m the Captain and I say it counts—”

“Really, you two.” Rayleigh sighed and shook his head with a loud tut. “I’m not mad, just disappointed—”

“Oh, give it a rest, Rayleigh—”

“Will you three jackasses quit ignoring me?!”

All three men froze, their heads quickly turning to face you, perched on the bed, your expression stormy.

“Oh—”

“Crap—”

“We—”

“Quiet.” Your voiced cracked like a whip, and all three of them fell silent, wary as though trapped in a room with a wild animal. “Explain. Now.”

And so it came to be, three of the most powerful pirates of their time sitting on the floor, you sitting on the bed above them, their heads bowed like schoolboys receiving a scolding.

“So, you three have some kind of pact.” You scoffed, crossing your arms across your chest, Scopper’s shirt far too big for you. “Involving me?”

Rayleigh kept his eyes on the floor, and his mouth firmly closed. Neither Scopper nor Roger spoke either.

“Very well.” You crossed your legs – showing off a generous flash of toned thigh that made Rayleigh’s throat dry – and eyed them expectantly. “We will wait.”

Seconds ticked by like hours. Finally, Roger, their fearless leader, cleared his throat and straightened his back, as though he had just recalled he was Captain of this crew.

“It was all Silvers Rayleigh’s idea.”

Treacherous bastard. Rayleigh glowered at the two men he called his closest friends, as Scopper nodded along eagerly with his captain. You turned slowly to face him, brows raised expectantly.

“Of course you would be the brains behind this operation.”

“Well.” Rayleigh tilted his head, flashing you his most charming smile. “I usually am around here.”

“Then explain. Now.”

He swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the way his cock jumped at your commanding tone. Fuck. “It’s only reasonable. We all want you—” no point denying it now – “it seemed a good idea to keep that on shore. Keep things…professional?”

You raised your eyebrows, your lips forming a sly smirk that reminded Rayleigh of the way Shakuyaku looked at him when she had him exactly where she wanted, a look that both filled him with dread and sent a bolt of lightning directly to his belly. If he survived this he really had to arrange a meeting sometime—

“Is that why you were between my legs three nights ago?” You asked, and Rayleigh fought to keep his expression neutral as Scopper and Roger started yelling.

“I knew it—” Scopper shoved his shoulder. “You scheming dog—”

“Silvers Rayleigh!” Roger pointed theatrically, adopting an outraged expression. “You forsake our pact!”

“Damn it, Captain, you broke the damn pact too—!”

“In my defence.” Rayleigh said calmly, ignoring their indignant faces. “I knew you two would try to honour the agreement. That gave me time to approach her first.”

“What the hell kind of defence is that—!”

“Enough.” You clapped your hands together loudly and all three men stopped bickering, settling for glowering at each other instead. Your hands settled on your hips. “We all enjoy sex, yes?”

There was a brief, confused silence, before all of them nodded and murmured in agreement.

“We all enjoy sex with each other, yes?”

Rayleigh cast a quick glance at the other two – Roger nodded simply, while Scopper actually looked briefly flustered, before clearing his throat and nodding a little sheepishly. You sighed heavily.

“For pity’s sake—we’re all adults here. We can manage our own affairs.” You rolled your eyes. “I don’t expect any favours from any of you, and none of you should expect anything from me.” You leaned against the edge of the bed, looking at them all expectantly. “Can we please not make this overcomplicated? I rather enjoying fucking you all.”

A bark of laughter spilled past Rayleigh’s mouth at your bluntness. You grinned slightly, while Roger and Scopper broke out into chuckles. “You’ve got a point.” Scopper grinned a little before scooting forward slightly, a large hand coming to run up your thigh. “We all just wanna feel good, yeah…?”

“See, you got it eventually.” You leaned down to playfully peck his lips, but Scopper caught your jaw gently with his fingers, tilting his head to catch your lips in a deeper kiss. You giggled softly, loosely wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and Rayleigh scoffed slightly, shaking his head with a bemused grin.

“We’re still here, Scopper.”

“Yeah, well…” Scopper mumbled between kisses, waving his hand vaguely over his shoulder. “You can go now…”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” You placed a hand in the centre of his chest, pushing him back slightly with a wry grin. You stood up in front of him, teasingly running a fingertip along his jaw as your eyes flickered playfully between Roger and Rayleigh. “I think you three have some making up to do, scheming together behind poor little old me’s back…”

The mischievous glint in your eye sent a current of heat through Rayleigh’s veins, but he tried to maintain a little composure. Beside him, Roger looked like he’d just stumbled into the largest pile of treasure he’d ever seen. You suddenly slipped past Scopper, strolling past the men to head for the door, dodging Scopper’s grasp.

“Where are you—?”

“The Captain has the biggest bed.”

You flashed a wicked smile over your shoulder as you disappeared around the doorframe. The three men stared at the empty air where you had been.

Rayleigh cleared his throat loudly, suddenly feeling far too warm in his clothes. “She thinks she has us wrapped around her fingers, doesn’t she…?”

“Yeah.” Scopper croaked slightly. Rayleigh could practically hear the wheels in his head rapidly spinning. “What do you think, Captain—HEY!”

Roger was already darting out the door. Rayleigh and Scopper bumped into each other as they scrambled after him, the sounds of their bickering and your laughter echoing throughout the halls of the ship.

Precious little sleep was had that night, but the four of you would consider it time well spent, regardless.

#one piece #one piece fanfic #one piece fanfiction #gol d roger #gol d roger x reader #Silvers Rayleigh #silvers rayleigh x reader #scopper gaban #scopper gaban x reader #roger pirates reader #one piece x reader

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