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#because they didn’t understand what was going on
arieslost · 2 days
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ok i don’t know if it’s just me who gets really giggly when it’s late at night but imagine laying in bed with lando and you’re just rambling about smth so stupid that it ends with you two just giggling at nothing. like getting full on stomach cramps from laughing but there wasn’t even anything funny to begin with
anon u and i are the SAME! once its past midnight i always end up becoming a victim of the late night sillies 💔
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1:30 am | ln4
you knew you were up too late when you nearly tripped over the loose edge of the blanket you and lando had been sharing on your way back to the couch, and when he had caught you before you could hit your head or anything, you started laughing.
“oh, no,” he’d groaned dramatically. “got the late night giggles already, huh?”
“uh-uh,” you shook your head, even though him saying the words “late night giggles” was enough to make laughter start bubbling up in your throat again.
something always shifted in you when the clock struck a certain hour at night, and lando had only been witness to it a handful of times before you moved in together.
now, you’d managed to get through the rest of the movie the two of you were watching without laughing, even if it meant biting your lip hard and refusing to make eye contact with your boyfriend. it was bad enough feeling his eyes on you every time he wanted to see your reaction to something that happened on the tv. making eye contact would just take you out entirely for no reason whatsoever.
which is why you think you’ve successfully avoided making a fool of yourself when you’re both finally laying in bed with the lights out at the fine hour of 1:30 in the morning.
“you’re so far away,” lando grumbles, dragging your body into his so his one arm is around your shoulders and your face is nestled in his neck.
“better?” you ask, smiling when he shivers as your lips brush his skin.
“mhmm.” he’s quiet for a moment, running his fingers up and down your arm. “you’re gonna come to miami, right?”
“yeah, if you want me to.”
“what kind of question is that, babe?” he cranes his neck in a way that tells you he’s fixing you with a judgy look even though you can’t see each other.
you shrug, feeling the giggles building up again for no reason whatsoever. “i dunno.”
“obviously i want you there, why wouldn’t i?”
“i dunno,” you repeat. “it’s miami. maybe you just wanna party with all your homies.” and just like that, you’re laughing again.
“oh dear god, here we go,” he sighs, pressing his lips together to repress his own laughter as your body shakes against his. “my homies? when have i ever referred to any of my mates as my ‘homie’?”
he sounds so incredulous that you laugh even harder. “oh, you’re so british! i can’t call them your mates, lan. it sounds too weird.”
“so homies is the word you went with? why can’t you be normal and just say my friends?”
“why can’t you be normal and say your friends?” you shoot back, and that does lando in.
“it’s not funny,” he tries to admonish, and it’s entirely true, but it’s a moot point when you can barely understand him through his laughter.
“stop laughing then!”
“you stop!”
naturally, that makes you both laugh harder still, to the point where you have to roll away from him, clutching your stomach from how badly all the laughing is making it hurt.
“i can’t breathe,” lando gasps from behind you.
“stop laughing,” you repeat. “you’re killing me.”
“i think i’m dying,” he continues like he didn’t hear you, and he honestly might not have because your face is half shoved into your pillow in your attempts to stifle yourself.
a few more minutes go by of the two of you absolutely losing your minds before you’re finally able to catch your breath.
“ow,” you whine, holding your stomach. “i think i just grew a six pack.”
“i think mine just became ten times more defined,” lando says, voice raspy from all the exertion on his vocal chords.
“ooh, lemme feel.”
“absolutely not, because you’re going to tickle me,” he grabs your wrist out of thin air. “i know your tricks, baby. i’ve laughed more than enough tonight thanks to you.”
“not my fault you’re weird and british.”
“i love you,” he says sweetly, pulling you back towards him and kissing your forehead. “now’s where you say, ‘i love you too.’”
“i love you too,” you reply dutifully, blindly reaching for his face so you can kiss him properly. “even though you’re weird and british.”
he kisses you again. “i thought it was especially because i’m weird and british.”
you snuggle into his side, now thoroughly exhausted. “please don’t make me laugh more, lan.”
you both know he’s right, of course, but you usually need to have the last word, so he lets you get away with it. he does love you, after all, even though you had him in stitches over nothing at 1:30 in the morning.
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word count: 790
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note: this was sooo self indulgent, like i was laughing as i wrote this because the term “homies” is so silly to me for some reason. also helped me test my dialogue skills!! n e wayz…
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!
reblogs are greatly appreciated <33
dividers by @/saradika
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jjunae · 2 days
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NYC ⸺ sjy
❔ spiderman pays you a visit 〡 spiderman!jake x fmr warnings! lil implications of skinship, swearing ( LIBRARY )
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‘are you upset?’
‘no, of course not. do i look upset?’ you asked, teeth grit, while you aggressively flipped through the pages of your book, hardly bothered to spare a glance towards his direction.
‘i don't know. pretty, can you look at me?’ jake pleaded, and you closed the textbook shut, eyes flitting towards the window. he was always there, in his red and blue, web-themed suit. you’d, eventually, grown a habit of leaving it open, just for him. 
‘don’t call me that.’
‘i knew you were mad. i promise, i'm not hurt,’ he said, his hand reaching to pull the mask off his face. you instantly jumped off your bed, scrambling over to him, to drag him inside your room. you slammed the shutters down, before turning to face him. 
‘are you fucking stupid? i’ve told you a million times! don’t pull it off, even if you’re just out my window,’ you snapped. it was evident you were irritable.  
‘sorry,’ he muttered, while he flung the cloth away. 
‘don’t throw your shit around my room,’ you grumbled, while he bent over to pick up the mask off your floor, quietly mouthing a “sorry”, yet again. 
you looked him up and down, your eyes scanning every inch of his body. he had a bloodied lip, and a couple of scrapes and cuts. not too much, you thought, while pulling out the first-aid box you’d kept for him. 
‘sit,’ you instructed, and so he did. he knew exactly where to sit; he’d been in this room at least a million times, for this very reason.  
‘i’m sorry,’ he started, causing you to furrow your brows. 
‘i really am. i didn’t mean to stand you up, something was happening down at oscorp, and you know jay works there, so i-’
‘wait. you think i’m upset because you stood me up?’ you cut him off, with a tilt of your head. 
‘yeah? i know you’d got us reservations, and i’m so sorry. i know it meant a lot to you, so i’ll make it up to you,’ he swore, a hint of confusion seeping into his eyes. 
‘jake, i’m not upset about that. i know you have a duty to fulfill,’ you murmured, hand reaching to push back the sweaty strands of hair falling over his forehead, ‘it’s just, i’m always so worried. i know i’m being silly, but i’m scared for you. i don’t know what’s happening to you, or what you’re doing. is it so hard to tell me where you are?’ you asked, your voice slightly quivering. 
‘no, i don’t like calling you. what if someone traces your number through my call records? i don’t want your safety to be compromised, but i guess that doesn't make sense, yeah? i mean, you’re always exposed to danger, because you’re close to me,’ he finished, with an awkward chuckle. 
‘i chose to be with you, even though i knew about you being spiderman. it was my choice, so quit acting like a hero; like you’re responsible for me, all the damn time. i’m my own human,’ you spat, grabbing him by his cheeks, looking into his eyes.
a part of you knew, he could’ve stopped your hand if he wanted to, but he didn’t. he was trying to understand you, though it was hard for him. god, if only he knew how much you loved him. 
‘okay,’ he said, slowly. 
‘okay,’ you nodded, letting go of him, and you both maintained a comfortable silence, while you patched up his cuts. 
‘what about my kiss?’ he complained, after a pause. it was (another) habit you had, kissing him after you were done helping him out.  
‘you’ll get it. be patient, spider-boy.’  
and, patient he was. sim jaeyun returned home as a happy man, with pink-colored smudges imprinted on his cheeks.
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A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3.7K]
THE TIMELINE
"There was something 'bout you that now I can't remember, It's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender. And I miss you on a train, I miss you in the morning, I never know what to think about. I think about you."
- About You By The 1975
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V. HAWKINS, INDIANA: 1988
Two years had passed since the last gate had closed and despite the aftermath of the “earthquakes,” Vecna had yet to make any sort of reappearance. 
Max’s bones healed, eventually, and she regained most of her sight, relying on thick lensed glasses when she grew tired or the words in her books turned blurry. Nancy went to college, Jonathan tried it for a year, Hopper took El on a month-long camping trip to see something other than the town repairing itself and Lucas went to therapy. 
Soon, each kid followed suit, attending sessions that eventually helped them sleep a little better because even though they couldn’t tell the person on the other side of the coffee table about monsters and the world under their feet, there had been enough death and suffering to fill the hour with regardless. 
Dustin told Steve he should go too and Robin agreed. After Eddie’s funeral, the one where they all stood with Wayne, a guy from the garage Eddie worked at on weekends and the remaining Hellfire members beside a small gravestone, they had another one. 
A second ceremony near the woods behind Eddie’s trailer, close to where he died, to where Dustin had found him bleeding and proud. The kids cried and Joyce held on tight to Will while Jonathan hugged Nancy and Dustin punched a tree trunk. It felt better than the first one, easier somehow, when they didn’t have to lie and hide the guilt they had at knowing each and every one of them felt a little shame in having a hand in someone’s else’s death. 
But it was closure. 
The town healed, roads were repaired, houses rebuilt, new flowers planted in the park in memory of those who had been lost in the accident - the natural disaster that made headlines, the one that no one could have predicted. 
Steve helped Dustin clean Eddie’s grave when the spray paint covered the dead boy’s name. Robin stopped crying when she looked in the mirror each morning. Jonathan left his room. 
The kids got better. They smiled more, went to the new arcade on opening day, shared slushies and rode their bikes around town again. Joyce visited Wayne when she could, took him pies and meatloaf and eventually got him out of his armchair and into a coffee shop for a full hour. Hopper got his job back, had a ceremony that preceded the funeral he had years before and Robin managed to get her and Steve a sweet gig at the record store that replaced Family Video. 
It felt fresh. New. Clean. 
So why was Steve still dreaming about gates?
For the third night in a row, he woke up gasping. A yell stuck in his throat that tasted like metal, like blood, and he was drenched. Shirtless, his sheets stuck to his chest, the weight of them tangled around his legs in a sickly familiar way, vines tugging at his ankles. His room was dark, the house empty, too quiet. Quiet enough that his breath ripped from his lungs in harsh pants, his head pounding from the exertion of running in his dream, back in a place that he hadn’t seen in almost twenty one months. 
At first, he dreamt of death. 
Of Eddie and how they found him lifeless and in Dustin’s arms. How Max was barely conscious in the attic of the Creel House, her body broken in ways that no doctor could understand. He dreamt of how he had pulled Lucas away from her, the boy sobbing and yelling, fighting with more strength than he knew he had as Steve tried to restrain him just enough for the paramedics to get Max into the ambulance. 
Then the dreams turned empty. He dreamt of losing everyone, Robin, Dustin, Hop. El was gone, Will too, Mike nowhere to be found. Nancy’s house was empty, Joyce and Jonathan didn’t exist and Steve sat alone in a town that turned grey, crumbling to dust until the vines came back and the clouds turned red. 
He ran miles every night, searching for his friends, his family. Woke up to shaking breaths and sore legs like he’d really sprinted across a town that was no longer home and each morning when the sun rose, he sat with a coffee and his bare legs dipped in the pool in his backyard. He stared at the water until the ripples blurred and wondered how long it would take for Barb to come haunt him too, if she’d reappear in his dreams despite the years that had gone by, if she’d come crawling back out of his pool like she used to, dripping wet and with no eyes. 
But Barb never came and he stopped dreaming of the kids, stopped hearing Lucas’ screams, stopped seeing Max in a hospital bed with blood coming from her eyes and eventually, one night, he dreamt of a gate that he’d never seen before. 
It didn’t even really look like a gate. 
Not the ones Steve knew. It wasn’t framed by dead vines, it didn’t pulsate, it didn’t have a red glow coming from its innards. This one didn’t look like rotting flesh, like a wound in the earth that couldn’t be healed. This one wasn’t at the bottom of a lake, lined with wet moss and cracked rocks, it wasn’t in the Munson trailer nor in the middle of the woods. 
This one opened on a blank wall in Steve’s bedroom, replacing the shelves where his old basketball trophies sat, where he usually left his pile of clothes before falling into bed. In the dream, it started as a crack, a crumbling of plaster and blue plaid wallpaper and Steve watched it open, a yawning thing that split the room and bathed it in light. It was too bright at first, like blinking into a summer sun. And once the white-hot of it cleared from Steve’s eyes, he saw blue skies and he could smell the ocean. 
There were trees he’d never seen before in real life, something out of a movie, tall and green and narrow as they swayed in a breeze he couldn’t really feel from his spot on his bedroom carpet. The buildings were a pinky-peach colour, like clay, with orange slate tiles and there were foundations and statues carved into the walls, water trickling from the mouths of gods and vases that stone faced women held in their marble arms. 
It was like looking at a painting, a canvas between his bed and his old desk, framed with olive branches and large, red fruits that protruded from the gates mouth. 
Pomegranates. 
Steve could smell them, a sweetness that mixed with the ocean air, a kind of freshness that you couldn’t find between the fields and farms that surrounded Hawkins. In the dream, he wanted to move closer but found that he couldn’t, his eyes wide and his bare feet rooted to the spot as he stared at the scene. It felt like a memory the more he looked, the buildings becoming familiar, a baby blue door that looked like somewhere he’d once owned the keys to and the cobbled streets became a well walked way home. 
Then, as if he weren’t supposed to really see it, he spotted something move in an upstairs window. Two houses from the front of the gate, with rusted shutters and white linen curtains, he saw a girl stand between them. 
A pretty girl, with eyes he knew he’d seen before, in a white dress that he was sure he remembered the feeling of. 
The sight of her made Steve’s heart hammer, the dream making him dizzy, the realisation that he knew that girl making the line between unconsciousness and reality a little blurry. He didn’t know her name, or where he knew her from. He didn’t even know where he was looking or why the gate was there. 
But he stared and stared until the girls eyes met his and before he could lift his hand, or even try to speak, there was a crack that seemingly came from the sky - the one above Hawkins or the one inside the gate, he didn’t know - but something flashed, the gate went dark and the rip in his bedroom wall stitched itself back up. 
He woke up feeling like he’d remembered and forgotten something all at once. Like a book he’d read back in middle school, a photo he’d once misplaced, a song he hadn’t heard in years but still remebered some of the words too. 
He knew her. He knew her. 
Steve thought about the girl so much, so often, that it didn’t take him long to think of her, to refer to her, as you. You were someone he’d once known, from a memory or another dream, he wasn't sure. It was the same feeling as watching a movie and seeing a pretty actress on screen, in a different outfit with different hair but knowing her face and wondering what show he’d seen her in before. 
Except with this, there was an aching want that buried itself in his chest at the sight of you, an awful feeling that grew larger each night. And every time his wall cracked open again, it seemed like his ribs did too. A crushing feeling, a yawning expanse inside his body that made room for the way his heart seemed to grow and grow at the sight of you. 
Yearning, that’s what he thought it was. A slow, burning build of it. 
The second night, he dreamt of you in a garden. A sprawling, green lawn with a pond so green-blue it made his eyes hurt. There was an awning beside it, a pergola of sorts made of white stone and it had ivy growing between the pillars, covering the roof and reaching down to trail its flowers in the water below. You were closer than before, than you were in the window, and Steve could see the way your lashes hit your cheeks as you looked down, stitching something that you held in your lap. 
There was a wicker basket beside you, a loaf of fresh bread wrapped in a cloth and he could still smell pomegranates, sweet and tart. There was a space beside you on the blanket, enough room for two but no one else came. 
You were always alone. 
Steve tried to talk to you, to reach out and see if this gate worked like the others, if he could walk through into this other world, this other dimension, but it didn’t work. 
Not yet, anyway. 
You seemed to notice him more on the fifth night, as he watched you walk along the edge of a lake. Your hair was shorter now and your clothes had changed. They look more modern, more like his, the cabins behind you reminiscent of a summer camp, a holiday lodge or something. He could hear music, a song he swore he heard on the radio not too long ago and that night, you watched him back. 
It seemed like you were waiting for someone. And when Steve saw your face light up with a smile, his heart stumbled. You raised your arm, reaching out a hand to the edge of the gate, off to the side as if someone else was in Steve’s walls. He saw another hand reach for yours, larger, definitely male, with a freckle where the thumb joined the palm. 
The jealousy he felt was unmatched, a burning thing that scorched his chest and his throat, hot needles at the back of his mouth. Before the man came into view, the crack in his wall trembled and the gate stitched itself closed once more, leaving plaster dust and flakes of paint on his carpet. 
Apart from the small mess, no one would have ever guessed another world opened up inside of Steve Harrington’s bedroom each night. 
It took him a week and half to notice his hand had a freckle in the same spot. A small beauty mark he’d never really paid attention to before, painted in the space that joined his thumb to his hand. He tried not to read too much into it, tried not to hold onto the hope that maybe it meant something - because none of this made sense, not really. 
They were just dreams. Strange things, brain scrambling things. But it was a welcome reprieve from death and darkness and vines that held onto him too tight. He no longer woke up in a cold sweat, he no longer wished for morning to come, no matter how tired he felt when he opened his eyes. 
Steve wondered if anyone else was experiencing these kinds of dreams. If the rest of the party were getting glimpses of other worlds, other timelines. He wasn’t sure what they were, too scared to ask, too afraid to make everyone else worry. The thought that these dreams could be a trick crossed his mind more than once, a new tactic from Vecna, an infiltration of his sleep that was meant to lull him into some kind of false sense of security. 
Safety - an unknown feeling. 
But everyone else spent their days talking about school and their new bosses, the fair that was coming to town to celebrate the town hall finally being rebuilt. No one mentioned Vecna or dreams or gates or girls they knew from somewhere they couldn’t place. 
So Steve accepted the fact that whatever these dreams were - whatever they meant - they were just for him. Which meant that you were his too. 
Weeks went by with Steve viewing you from the split in his wall, sometimes hearing music, sometimes hearing your muffled voice. Never real words, never loud enough to hear and it didn’t seem like you could hear him either. But Steve watched, enraptured, following you around different parts of the world, new countries and scenes that he could never really place but, oh my god, each one felt like home with you in it. 
Then one night, he saw himself. 
He felt the surge of panic flood him even in his sleep, his body jolting against his bed as he saw the familiar face, staring back at him, nonplussed. He looked a little different, maybe older. His hair was shorter at the back, cropped closer to the nape of his neck but the biggest difference was how happy he looked. 
This Steve, the one in his dream, inside this gate - this Steve from another time, another life - he looked lighter. He didn’t have purple smudges under his eyes, no deep lines settling across his forehead from frowning so much. His clothes were different too, looser, less fitting, the colours more muted. He wore a pair of jeans that looked much more comfortable than his tight Levi’s, a soft burgundy sweater that had the sleeves rolled up. 
Steve didn’t recognise where this dream took place, but he knew it wasn’t Hawkins. America, yeah, the street signs and licence plates on the cars in the street giving that detail away, but he wasn’t too sure where. The buildings were bigger, shinier, more glass than brick but the skies were still blue and it looked peaceful, warm. 
Safe. 
Dream Steve strolled down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets, looking back over his shoulder every now and then as if to make sure the real Steve was following him. He walked past storefronts and stopped to pet a dog, a golden retriever who was waiting for his owner outside of a bakery. When he came to a bookstore, Steve could see a large building in the distance, a huge billboard atop it that looked like it was advertising a new movie, or a show maybe. It didn’t have much details on it, no actors nor dates to tell what year this was supposed to be. 
Certainly not 1988. 
It only had lettering across it, big and bold and red against a pristine white background: “ANOTHER LIFE.”
The bell to the bookstore jingled and then Steve saw you. As pretty as you had been in every other gate, every other world, every other lifetime. Like a figurine inside a snow globe, like something from a fairytale. Steve had never seen you this close before. 
He watched your smile, the way it widened at the sight of his counterpart, this other version of him. You were so pretty that his breath got caught in his lungs, his sleeping body kicking out in shock when you lunged at the dream version of him, throwing your arms around his shoulders in greeting. 
Steve watched the two figures embrace on the street, he watched how this luckier man got to bring his hand to your cheek and hold to there to kiss, how his lips - Steve’s own lips - met your own and parted them, mouths melting together in something that was so much more than a quick hello. 
Steve didn’t have it in him to feel jealous then. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to. He watched the hand that held your jaw, the thumb that caressed your cheekbone as you grinned into him, your own hands clutching his waist now. There was a freckle, the same as the one he had on his own hand, in the matching spot on yours. This Steve took that hand and kissed that very mark, smacking kisses across your palm and up your wrist until you were laughing, head thrown back, eyes bright. 
Steve hadn’t seen anything so happy. 
He woke up before the dream finished, before the gate closed. Steve woke up with tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, his vision blurry in the navy gloom of his bedroom. It wasn’t yet morning. There was no gate on his bedroom fall, no new city between the plaid striped wallpaper. 
He thought it could’ve been Chicago, maybe New York. Perhaps Philadelphia. 
He wondered if he left and went looking for that bookstore, that street, that billboard, he’d find you too. If he was supposed to, if you were real, if this life was all he was supposed to get. 
Something told him otherwise, that open crack inside his chest that made him ache for hours after he awoke. He never forgot about you during the day, each life he’d watched you live, how you had grown your hair out and then cut it, how you seemed to change your clothing depending on where you were, from old petticoats to jeans and shirts with logos on them he’d never seen before. 
Steve felt like he’d lived a thousand lives with you. 
He wasn’t sure what he had to do to get you in this one. 
After two weeks of dreaming of this life with you, one that he was so sure would happen, he spoke to Joyce. He waited until the kids dragged Hopper out into the yard to help them with some sort of rocket they wanted to make and he found her in the kitchen. It was the closest kind of feeling he had to home - bar from the sight of you, but he wasn’t really sure if that counted when he was asleep. 
So he tried to sound casual when he leaned over the Byers kitchen counter, elbows avoiding the jelly stains that Mike had left after making a sandwich, and asked, “hey, uh, do you believe in soulmates?”
Joyce blinked at him, flour and butter between her fingers as she tried to turn the page in her recipe book back to the instructions for apple pie. The book flopped shut when she let go, her hands reaching for a rag instead. Her eyes never left Steve’s. 
“Uh, well. I guess so,” she paused, head tilted to the side as she watched the younger man, how his cheeks turned pink and his gaze fell to the floor. “I haven’t thought about it all that much. Why’d you ask?”
Steve didn’t know what to say then. So he floundered, flushed in the face and nose scrunched as he ran his fingers through his hair too harshly, hoping that no one else walked in. What was he supposed to say? That he was dreaming of gates in his bedroom walls? But it was okay? ‘Cause these ones didn’t have monsters or creatures set out to kill him, no, these gates held something that he thought he’d once had, that they held something he was so sure he was supposed ot have again?
Maybe, just not in this life.
Maybe, this time, something was broken. Wires were crossed, cut, unravelled. Maybe the upside down messed up a timeline, maybe it ripped apart whatever plan it had originally laid out for Steve Harrington. 
He didn’t know. But he knew it sounded crazy, even in his head.
So he shrugged and said, “no reason.”
And then that night, after Joyce gave him funny looks over the dinner she served him and the rest of his friends, the kitchen table full, he went home and lay on his bed, hardly bothering to pull the sheets over his bare chest.
He counted his breaths, hoped for sleep and wished for you.
Like always, his room grew darker, his lids heavier and the crack in his bedroom wall crumbled and split until the dust settled and he saw your face. You were alone this time, pretty as ever and in the same looking city he’d last seen himself in. The skies were blue behind you, the buildings still tall and shiny looking, all glass window panes and metal framework. If he concentrated enough, he could smell summer.
Hot tarmac and sunscreen, fresh fruit from one of the stores behind you, tart lemons and freshly ground coffee. 
You were looking right at him and even in his sleep, Steve smiled. Your eyes were pretty, too pretty, the colour bright and your gaze excited as you gazed at him. Like you’d been waiting. You held out a hand, coaxing, kind, soft, patient. And for the first time, when Steve reached out too, his hand slipped through the gate. 
He was right, about the season, about it being summer. The air inside this world was warm on his skin, like the sun was on him despite being sprawled out in the blue gloom of his dark bedroom. It felt like a July morning, right before the heat hit. 
He was almost touching your fingers when he woke up alone again.
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princessbrunette · 1 day
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how would stepbro!rafe react if his friends were ogling you and making gross comments about how badly they want you when they come over to hang out with him 😳 he’d be so angry and torn between telling them they’re not allowed to talk about you like that because he’s your protective older stepbro orrrr taking you upstairs and letting them listen to why he’s actually protective over you
i luv this idea w s1!rafe because he’s got more of a temper n the whole thing just seems more icky <33
︶︶︶⠀𓏸𓈒𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི𓈒𓏸⠀︶︶︶
you were used to the stares from rafe’s friends — the ogling that wasn’t much different from the looks you received from your stepbrother himself. that distant look of amusement, the unabashed way they’d drag their eyes all the way down your body and back up as you speak — like you were a zoo animal behind glass. you barely noticed it anymore, the whole concept of ‘boys will be boys’ having been drilled into your head from rafe’s behaviour. after marrying ward, your mother had even noticed the way rafe looked at you, she’d even raised it with ward himself — who simply shut the whole thing down by telling her “hes a guy, honey. and… she’s a young girl walking around in a bikini i mean of course he’s gonna look. he just has to get used to the way things are around here. in no time, he’ll be seeing her as a sibling and treating her as poorly as he does sarah, trust me.”
but the looks didn’t go away, and with time you started to look back. enjoy his attention. to the point where you’d secretly end up on your back, with your big step brother ‘teaching’ you things that no other guy could, or would be allowed to teach you. your dirty little secret.
you knew rafe’s friends didn’t know — which surprised you, considering you thought rafe would jump at the chance to brag on something so pornographic. you figured they had suspected something was amiss with the two of you, from the way he would take any chance to put his hands on you to ‘mess with’ you, or from the way his eyes would drop to your ass when you’d walk away — but he hadn’t said a word, which to his friends meant it was free game.
after you’d walked out the room, having had a brief discussion with rafe about dinner plans — the eyes followed you until you disappeared into the hallway.
“shit, i nearly got up and followed her.” kelce fills the silence with a joke, causing the room of guys to erupt into laughter of agreement, even topper — the boy who prided himself on being the most ‘respectful’ slapping at his arm and nodding, chortling out something along the lines of “hey you said it not me!”
rafe chuckles himself, understanding the hype. you were smoking hot, and knowing he secretly had the girl they all wanted to himself filled him with a sense of sick pride. “yeah, alright.” he drawls, hoping to end the conversation there and then as he walks back around the couch and slumps down, chewing obnoxiously at his gum.
“you see the way that ass moves, man? shit i get hypnotised everytime she’s walking away.” another comments, followed by another chiming in with “hate to see her go, but love to watch her leave!” which of course had the room erupting into more laughter.
rafe got in his head pretty quickly after that. they were laughing, and not at you — at the idea that you were so easily accessible, and yet untouchable. perhaps they were laughing at the fact rafe wouldn’t be brave enough to make a move on you, due to the odds you’d been dealt — which couldn’t be further from the truth, but rafe didn’t enjoy the insinuation of disrespect. his smile slowly slid off his face, staring ahead, continuing to chew to curb that coke craving that his irritation fed him.
he feels a hand on his shoulder, some red faced try hard from the club that had tagged along back to tannyhill with barely an invite. he sucks in a breath of excitement, unable to continue what he was about to say through his laughter and rafe curls his lip up a little bit in disgust.
“bro, if that was my step sister… things would have got real pornhub in this house, i can tell you that for fr—” his words are cut off by rafe violently shoving the boy a little too hard off him, the guy crashing off the couch onto the floor. quiet falls over the group, now noticing rafe’s sudden change in mood. he doesn’t wanna seem too bothered, so he clears his throat and adjusts his polo collar.
“s’my fuckin’ stepsister you’re talkin’ about… alright? watch your mouth.”
the group decided to drop the topic after that.
︶︶︶⠀𓏸𓈒𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི𓈒𓏸⠀︶︶︶
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dqrciedaily · 3 days
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baby arsenal headcannons, arsenal wfc x teen!reader
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a/n: i am so so so sorry that this isn’t an actual fic but i’ve left yous without anything for like two weeks so take this 🥰🥰🥰
warning - this isn’t proofread so pls ignore any mistakes x
-
1. she is maths no.1 public enemy - literally will stare at her homework for two hours instead of actually trying it. then the next day at school she gets in trouble for not doing it but she genuinely couldn’t care less because she’d rather have them email lia than try do trigonometry
2. her tiktok reposts and twitter likes have fans speculating like there is no tomorrow - she’s definitely liked transfer rumours on twitter before as well as reposting things she shouldn’t be and she reposts things that happened way back way but people think it’s about her current situation, leading to some very concerned fans in her tiktok comments and instagram requests.
3. baby girl has stina and laura wrapped around her finger - she’s cold? stina’s gonna give her the jumper she’s wearing. she’s hungry? laura’s up to make her something to eat, even though maus is perfectly capable of doing it herself. they’re basically on her beck and call.
4. she always curses out players in german on the pitch - when she was younger her brothers taught her the art of cursing people out in german then speaking in english to confuse them. however this did not work when arsenal played chelsea and she went flying after a tackle from nüsken, who very obviously understands german, leading to maus getting a yellow.
5. which leads to the next point which is that she gets her fair share of yellows - giving katie a run for her money, although most of hers come from back chatting the ref and not from actual gameplay, although she isn’t afraid to put in a heavy tackle here and there.
6. her + kyra = little shits on steroids - on the first media day of the season they decided to put y/n and kyra in three of the same interviews, let’s just say absolutely nothing productive happened until caitlin had to come in to do an interview with the two of them.
7. she’s lia’s no.1 reason for her early gray hairs - firstly maus is awful at answering phone calls, so if she’s out with her friends and lia needs something best believe she cannot contact her. secondly the amount of emails the school sends her may send lia into overdrive, she genuinely couldn’t care less if y/n didn’t do her homework as long as she’s passing all her classes, which she is (besides math but lia doesn’t need to know that.)
8. y/n has the best outfits - her instagram feed is filled with mirror pics of her outfits and they’re all just so good!!! she’s known for her fashionable clothes throughout the woso community.
9. she gets really really really nervous when doing interviews by herself - she already refuses to do orals in school because they stress her out too much, so after her first full 90 for arsenal she gets called to do an interview and poor girl is swaying from side to side the entire time, stumbling over her words and overall looking like a deer caught in headlights.
10. the first time she brings a girl or boy home lia gets a group of the girls to pretend they’re over for dinner without telling y/n - so then when y/n gets home she sees most of her teammates there and very hastily shoves her ‘friend’ upstairs, before going over to the girls who all tease her. then when she’s upstairs in her room with her ‘friend’ they all take turns coming upstairs to walk past the closed door to hear what they’re talking about.
11. she is a hugger of note - the first time she meant all the girls minus her shy demeanour she hugged every single teammate she met. she is also a massive cuddler, on the team bus she makes ours sit in the window seat (much to the brunettes complains) then uses kyra as a pillow which 1. forces kyra to be quiet because she doesn’t want to wake y/n and 2. she can’t move around the bus as she wants deciding to annoy everyone which the other girls are very thankful for.
12. her first crush on a girl was laura freigang, who she had seen around the german youth camps before - she even told her parents at one stage that she was going to go to penn state just like lau did but that phase was short lived when she then developed a crush on one of her teammates in her age group instead.
13. in another life she’s a dj who lives in ibiza - literally no explanation needed, she truly is a party animal at heart and would go to all the festivals and raves possible during the off season.
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daisyblog · 2 days
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First Date
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Summary: Harry and YN are set up on a date.
2019
Jonny had separately nagged YN and Harry to let him set them up on a date. Harry’s argument was that he was in the middle of writing his second album, and wanted to be on his own after his last break up. YN’s protest was that she was a single working Mum who didn’t have the time, and added “nobody wants to date a single mum”. 
After what felt like months of constant begging, Harry and YN both gave in to their friend and agreed to go on a date. Jonny had arranged for them to meet at a small quiet restaurant on the outskirts of London, knowing Harry would want to stay under the radar. 
YN had been nervous all day. She had messaged Jonny several times to try and cancel but he insisted that it was just nerves and she should give it a chance. Harry felt mixed emotions, part of him was nervous, he was meeting someone new but the other part of him was excited because he knew Jonny wouldn’t set him up with just anyone. 
Harry arrived at the restaurant first, being fifteen minutes early. He was shown to their table which he was grateful was tucked into a corner away from other tables. He knew that was down to Jonny’s request. Wanting to calm his nervous, Harry ordered a bottle of wine for them, hoping YN liked it too. 
He had just taken a small sip from his glass, when he saw the waiter walking towards him with a woman following behind. Harry stood from his chair, ready to greet her. “Hi, it’s nice to finally meet you”. Harry spoke first, bringing YN in for a hug. 
“Jonny and his persuasive ways huh?”. YN joked, causing Harry to smile knowing Jonny must have nagged YN as much as he had nagged him. 
Harry pulled YN’s chair out for her to sit before taking his place back in her own. “I ordered wine, I can get you something else if you’d prefer”. 
“No…wine is perfect, thank you”. YN smiled with appreciation, showing her little dimples. “I like your tattoos”. She complimented as she noticed them on his arm, that was exposed due to his short sleeved shirt. 
Harry glanced down as he looked at his arm, smiling slightly at the mixture of ink that covered his skin. “Uh thanks…I have too many to count”. He giggled. “Do you have any?”. He gestured to his tattoos. 
YN hesitated before explaining. “I have one…on my wrist”. She turned her hand over to reveal the delicate ink on her right wrist. “It’s my son’s name”. YN watched for a change in Harry’s response or how he may end the date now. 
But what surprised YN was Harry’s genuine grin as he looked down at her wrist. “What’s his name?”. His question was genuine, YN could tell by how he looked at her directly in the eye which a soft look. 
“Jacob”. YN smiled as she thought about her favourite person. The little boy who saved her in more ways than he would ever know. “He’s five and a real sweetheart.”. Harry noticed how YN’s whole face lit up as she spoke about him. “Does me having a son not bother you?”. YN couldn’t help but ask.
Harry frowned at her question before shaking his head. “Of course not…I don’t date people based on if they’re a parent, or if they have a certain job or x amount of money in the bank…I date people for them.”. 
“I’m sorry…I couldn’t help but ask, I’m not used to people being so understanding when it comes to Jacob”. YN apologised, hoping she hadn’t ruined the date before it had started properly. 
“Hey…it’s fine, you can be yourself tonight…there’s no judgement from me.” Harry reassured her, knowing how it felt for someone not to get to know you and having a false opinion. 
“Thank you…that really means a lot”. YN smiled before taking a sip from her glass, needing to treat her dry throat. 
“So tell me about you and Jacob…I can see he’s your life and I want to know more”. The sentence caused a spark in YN’s chest at how interested Harry was in not only her but the one person who mattered the most. 
Harry and YN had talked, laughed and smiled all evening. YN couldn’t remember the last time she felt like herself and was able to be just YN and not just a Mum. Harry wondered how he hadn’t met YN sooner because for once someone didn’t want to speak to him because he was Harry Styles, he could see that YN was genuinely interested in getting to know him as just Harry. 
Harry had learnt that YN was in university studying business when she fell pregnant but had to drop out before graduating. But now owned her own florist in London. He noticed that she hasn’t mentioned her family apart from Jacob, but decided it was best to leave it that way for now. She didn’t ask one question related to the band or his music, she asked questions about his family, where he grew up, his childhood memories and all the little things that built up who he is today. 
After they had finished their meals and nicely argued about how the bill was going to be paid, they found themselves walking through a quieter part of town, still chatting and giggling like two teenagers. They wanted to blame the wine but deep down they both knew it was from the excitement of each other. 
Harry had arranged for a taxi to drop them both back home. They were both supposed to realise that YN didn’t live far from Harry’s Hampstead house. He walked YN up to her door to make sure she was home safe. They both stood staring at each other, waiting for the other to break the silence. Smirks covering their smiles. 
“I had a really nice time tonight”. Harry broke first, meaning what he had said. 
“Me too!”. YN felt shy for the first time all evening. 
“Can I see you again?”. Harry was bold, he hadn’t felt like this after a date before and he wasn’t willing to lose his chance. 
YN smiled, she felt special and chosen for once and inside she was screaming with happiness. Harry really wanted to see her again. “I’d love that”.
They quickly swapped numbers and Harry was eager to arrange to see YN again. Before making his way back to the taxi that was waiting patiently, he leaned in to hug YN goodbye. It was like neither of them wanted to let go but the feeling of Harry’s lips leaving a peck on her cheek is what caused YN to jump around in happiness once she closed the door behind her that night.
Taglist:
@ell0ra-br3kk3r
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leaderwonim · 2 days
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unconditional love. ✧ park sunghoon x fem!reader genre: bittersweet fluff, coming of age angst
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you liked park sunghoon, you truly did. he was kind, intelligent, and had that soft introverted persona on the outside.
when you got to know him, he became the most funny and loudest person to ever exist, which had your heart doing backflips.
it wasn’t him that was the issue. it was you. you always had commitment issues, never being able to settle down because of your past pulling you behind. i mean—how could anyone ever like you? you felt as thought you were too loud, too annoying, too irritable, just too much.
despite your brain constantly bringing you down, park sunghoon loved you. he loved every single piece of you, the way you’d blow your perfect hair out of your face as you concentrated on the textbook in front of you, the way your eyebrows would furrow when you didn’t quite catch a question or answer, the way you’d prop your head onto your knees as a way to comfort yourself.
god, park sunghoon swore you were the one. he didn’t care that his friends warned him about your earned title of being a ghoster when it came to relationships, he didn’t care that it felt like he was constantly putting in more effort than you.
as long as he’s got you, he doesn’t care. so how did the two of you end up in this situation?
“i don’t get it,” sunghoon frowns, “what did i do wrong?”
“you didn’t do anything wrong,” you say exasperatedly, “in fact, you were perfect sunghoon. you were everything i wanted and more—it’s just me.”
park sunghoon hated the classic it’s me not you excuse when it came to situations like these. but because it’s you, he lets it slide, even though he already feels the tears coming.
“i don’t want to hurt you any longer, hoonie. you have to understand i’m ending this because i care about you too much to put you through hell.”
sunghoon solemnly nods, knowing whatever he’ll say won’t change anything, that it’s already too late and you’ve already made up your mind.
it’s cruel, he thinks. life. how it could be so depressing and meekly all at once.
it wasn’t until a year later that sunghoon and you crossed paths again. you two were now sophomores in college, and had even attended the same university.
you had gotten a boyfriend, finally deciding to settle down after maturing and realizing how much of a piece of shit you were to all the boys at your high school.
his name was heeseung and he had treated you like a princess, reminding you of how sunghoon used to treat you back in senior year.
now here you were, sitting on one of the university steps with your head hung low. your parents had given you the call about them divorcing, right in the middle of your sophomore year. you were miles away, and was heartbroken knowing your family was splitting in two without you being there physically to support them.
“hey, you okay?”
you knew that voice better than anyone.
“hoon?” you sniffle. “i’m sorry—why am i even calling you that.”
“it’s okay.” he reassures you, patting your back as he takes a seat. “what’s wrong?”
“parents are getting divorce,” you scoff. “guess thats karma for all the things i put you through.”
“don’t say that.” sunghoon gently wipes away your tears, frowning when he sees more appear.
“you shouldn’t even be comforting me, i treated you like shit sunghoon, i got a new boyfriend right after i said i couldn’t settle down with you.”
“who cares?” sunghoon says, and for the first time, you don’t see the romantic love he used to have in his eyes for you. “we’re young! of course you’re going to find other people.”
you’re in awe at the maturity sunghoon is displaying. you knew it took a lot of courage for him to do so.
“why are you being so nice, sunghoon?”
“the world is already cruel, yn.” sunghoon sighs. “so therefore, i won’t be.”
and although his words won’t stop the divorce of your parents or the sadness filling your chest, it makes you feel a tad bit lighter, knowing that you had someone like park sunghoon in your life.
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meechlamajor · 2 days
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literally anything for Kate Martin
Kiss and Makeup — Kate Martin x Fem!Reader
In which you and Kate have a heated argument, and you feel conflicted between your morals and feelings.
Warnings: angst (I made Kate into a little bit of a bitch I’m upset with myself for it negl) and fluff!
Author’s note: kudos to @fallofachilles for the prompt idea! + I hope you guys like the new layout I’m trying, despite the simplicity. Consider this a birthday gift from me to you guys, but for my birthday ♡!
You sit on the floor of the off-campus apartment that you share with Kate, pulling everything that Kate had just put into her suitcase out. She quite literally shoved everything in there and there was just no way that she would fit everything she needed in there. You were unsure about how she did this before meeting you.
“Babe,” you huffed. “I keep telling to you to stop waiting until the last moment to pack! You wouldn’t have to rush if you listened.”
“Okay Mom, sorry,” Kate brushed the fly aways out of her face and sat next to you.
You rolled up each item so that you could get the most out of the space in her suitcase.
“Do you have your extra pair of shoes in another bag or something?” You inquired. You’d gone through everything and they hadn’t turned up.
“No baby, they’re in our room,” Kate replied to you, but never got up.
“Go get them!” You widened your eyes, motioning to the bedroom. “Sheesh.”
Kate came back with them in hand, “I thought you were going to get them.”
You swore when you heard that your eye twitched. “Uh— why would I do that? You’re able.”
“Well… you just usually do. It’s a ‘girlfriend’ thing to do,” Kate explained, shrugging.
You chuckled, warmth spreading up the back of your neck and to your face. “So as your girlfriend I’m supposed to baby you and wait on you hand and foot?”
The room becomes tense and your heart beats in your ears. You remain patient though, trying to hear your girlfriend out.
“Well no, but I didn’t ask for you to do any of this,” Kate motions to her clothes on the floor. “It’s our normal routine. What’s the problem?”
You groan, running your hands down your face. “I do it because I want to and because I love you! I don’t have to do any of it— I could literally let you go to the airport and pay a fifty dollar fee because your luggage is overweight, but I don’t!”
Kate shoved her tongue into her cheek and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “I don’t understand what I said wrong! Why disrupt our routine?”
“You sound like such a man,” you curse. “The problem is that I’m realizing that you don’t respect me or even value me! I know that you work so hard, so I do these things to take some of the weight off off your shoulders, and you’re not even the tiniest bit grateful!”
Kate drops her bright pink shoes onto the hardwood floors, the sound echoing through the apartment. Her eyes glance at them and then you. A staring contest goes on for thirty seconds and you chuckle bitterly before rising to your feet.
You strut toward the bedroom, grabbing your backpack.
“What are you doing?” Kate questions you, following you into the room. But, you ignore her as you raid the dresser for clothes.
You shove your clothes into the bag, not giving nearly as much care to your items as you give to Kate’s. Your toiletries lay on top. You swing the bag over your right shoulder, saving your left hand for your keychain.
“Where are you going!?” Kate continues. “You cannot be ignoring me right now. You- come on!”
“Clearly, you’ve gotten too comfortable and you seem to think that I’m your maid or something. I’m leaving and you can have fun spending a week without me.”
-
You found yourself staying with your friend Karissa for a few days. You almost went to Jada’s dorm, but there was no way that you wouldn’t end up seeing Kate there.
While you stayed with Karissa, you had some time to think. Were you babying Kate? You just thought that she might appreciate what you do for her, but she made it obvious that now it had become more of an expectation of you.
You felt conflicted. You always told yourself that you wouldn’t tolerate disrespect from anyone, including your partner. If you forgave Kate, would you basically be telling her it’s okay, I don’t mind that you disrespected me?
But at the same time, you love Kate and it hurts you to be away from her.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Karissa asked as she joined you on her plush white couch.
“Thinking about Kate,” you say.
“But, that’s literally all the time so what difference does it make?” She jokes, channel surfing.
“The difference is that I haven’t spoken to her in three days because my pride won’t let me,” you sigh. “I don’t want to give in too easy.”
“You don’t have to,” Karissa chimes. “Okay, listen. Forget about whatever lesson you’re trying to teach her, and instead just think about what you want.
Maybe it’s not about you wanting her realizing that she needs you, but it could be more about the fact that she hasn’t shown you much appreciation.”
You nod, “but, I know that she’s busy. It’s hard for her to do that stuff all of the time.”
“You’re making excuses for her now. Sure she’s busy, but aren’t you, too? You balance your classes, a job, and extracurriculars, but you still find time to show Kate how much you love her and do things that she would like, including packing her bags for her before an away game.
It doesn’t have to be elaborate it, but you do deserve to be considered. That’s all I’m saying.”
You don’t reply, but your phone vibrates at your side with a text from the girl you were just speaking of.
KATE: Will you come home, please? We should talk.
You read over the message a few times, thinking about how you might reply. Truth be told, you were tired of being apart and you did just want to go home to your girlfriend.
YOU: I’ll be there in about an hour.
You kept your text short and sweet. It definitely wouldn’t take you an hour to get there, but you wanted to give yourself some leeway.
-
With your key in hand you unlock the door to the apartment you share with Kate, and sit your bag down on the floor.
It’s eerily quiet, to which you raise your eyebrows. You stalk toward your bedroom, and are met with the sight of those faux tea candles, roses, and what seemed to be a few gifts on the bed.
The room had been decorated with balloons and a big banner that read: I LOVE YOU.
You turned to look for Kate and there she stood in the doorway, a small smile on her face, but you couldn’t move past the look of guilt in her eyes.
“What’s all this for?” You inquire, taking a deep breath.
Kate’s gaze flickers around the room in hesitation, almost like she’s doubtful of something.
“I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to butter you up so that you forgive me, but it’s time that I showed my appreciation for you.
You’re right, I did get too comfortable and I stopped thanking you. The way that I spoke to you was wrong. I love you, and what I did and lack thereof was wrong. The three days without you admittedly were hard, I forgot to do a lot of the things that you took on the responsibility of.
I’m just… sorry for not appreciating and recognizing what you do for me sooner, babe. You take so much of the weight off of my shoulders every single day, and I promise to put forth more effort when it comes to valuing you.”
Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest at her words because that’s all that you really wanted. You wanted to know that your efforts didn’t go unnoticed and that they meant something to her.
Without words you bring Kate into a hug, your arms wrapping around her neck and hers around your waist. You speak into her neck, “I won’t say that it’s okay, but I do accept your apology.”
When you both pull away she locks her lips with your own, her hands squeezing at your hips. Her lips taste like mint from the chapstick she wore. The kiss was tender and sweet— it felt different from the last ones you two had shared. There was a promise in it, one that the both of you wouldn’t break.
Your foreheads rest upon one another until Kate backs you into the bed, forcing you to sit down. She joins you at your side.
She glances at the two gift boxes, signaling for you to open them. The wrapping paper was your favorite color. The small details were always so cute to you.
You unwrap box one and open it to find some body care products like body wash and body scrub. Kate always knew how much you enjoyed self-care days. It always made you feel good inside and out.
You opened the body scrub and brought the container to your nose, “oo that’s nice!”
Kate watches as you open the other box with a smile, happy that she could make you smile again.
“Should I run you a bath?” She asks. “We can have ice cream after and watch Love Is Blind.”
“Run us a bath,” you beam. “And don’t be mad, but I watched a few episodes without you.”
Kate got up from the bed, “wouldn’t be the first time, babe.”
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eastbubble · 3 days
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when you began dating nerd!könig you were so interested in him that you planned conversations early. you did research about his silly little games that he liked playing so much — hell, you even got yourself to play a few matches of war thunder to see what this man was into! :( and when he slightly brought up his interests in a conversation you were already drinking his words, asking him to explain more game mechanics and whatnot (unbeknownst to him that you were already kind of experienced in the game too)..
and when things were going right and one night both of you were in bed, he had his crappy and beat-up office laptop in his lap, the only thing you could see was a huge map of europe displayed on it. he was clicking some things you didn’t understand (you haven’t played this game before, not even for him..) you finally asked him about it.
“it’s hearts of iron, sweetheart.. whatcha know about history, hm?” he asked quietly with a small smile forming on his lips, gently knocking your head with one of his fingers.
you didn’t reply because you knew this was a losing situation, there would be no way that you could earn his praise like this when your head was practically empty whenever you were around him. so you just shook your pretty little head and laid it on his chest, sweet locks of hair escaping from your loose little ponytail while still keeping a close eye on the screen.
and when you didn’t even except it, he gently reached down, slipping his hand under the blanket and began silently massaging your thighs. you saw that this was a game he could easily play with one hand so you weren’t even mad about it, however your focusing session was broken because of this. you couldn’t concentrate on analyzing his game any more, even though you wanted to watch so bad so you could learn a few game tactics to brag about next time!
his fingers quickly pulled the sweet fabric of your little sleeping shorts away, and the only thing he was mad about was that he had to stare at the screen and invade poland with one had massaging your sweet little folds that were already soaked with your wetness, all for him :( he couldn’t focus either, to be honest.
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five-rivers · 3 days
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Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 15
@greatbigolhampuckjustforme
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“Only one left,” said Danny, uneasily.  Working by the process of elimination…  If any of the people on this list were his actual, biological parents, as Frostbite had feared, then it was these two.  
Jazz, obviously, wasn’t his mother.  He’d known that from basically the moment they’d met.  Vlad, Frostbite, and Pandora had confirmed that fact, and their stories had matched too well with each other for them to be lying.  Unless, of course, the whole trial was a lie and they were all working together, and Danny was hesitant to go down that path.  
The Observants, too, could be crossed off with ease.  The Observants were public and impersonal enough that Danny had remembered them despite his amnesia.  He’d never heard of them having children.  And their behavior during his trial… well.  Maybe they’d behave that way around their actual children, but Danny doubted it.  
Vlad hadn’t even claimed to be his father.  Of course, he’d also heavily implied that Danny’s biological parents were dead.  So there was that.  He was also a liar.  So there was that.  But, again, Danny didn’t think Vlad was his actual parent.  The Dairy King would have told him if he was.  
Frostbite and Pandora had also denied any blood relationship with him, although they still both wanted him to pick them.  Pandora did, at least.  Frostbite had seemed more lukewarm about it.  Maybe even cool, to use a pun.  Not that Frostbite disliked Danny.  He was participating in this to help Danny.  Just… Yeah.  
Then there was the trio, which, um.  Yeah.  Definitely not.  
So.  If his parents were actually involved, and not dead, then they had to be these two.  Unless Pandora or Frostbite or Vlad was lying about not being his parent, which he didn’t think any of them would do, because that would be counterproductive.  Wouldn’t it?
Double-think made his head hurt.  
“Yes,” said Clockwork.  “Only Jack and Maddie Fenton are left.  Then, when you have seen them, you must make your decision.”
“And I can choose anyone?”
“Yes.  You may choose anyone you wish to choose.”
“Hm,” said Danny.  He spread himself out over the couch and dropped the file folder on the coffee table.  “Anyone, anyone?”
“That is the policy, to ensure that children are placed appropriately.”
“So, like, if I decided I wanted to go with the Dairy King but not Vlad…?”
“That is a possibility,” said Clockwork.  “As in, you could choose for Dairy King alone to have custody of you, with the understanding that Vlad would likely still be a significant part of his social circle and afterlife.”
“Huh,” said Danny.  “What if I picked, like, Ember?”
“You could do that.”
“But you wouldn’t recommend it, huh?”
“My recommendation is immaterial,” said Clockwork.  “I am a neutral party.”
“Yeah, but I can still ask you questions.  What if I want your opinion?”
“I am not allowed to give it.”
“Right,” said Danny.  He looked over the file.  “You know, they have, like, the least stuff on their little cheat sheet out of anyone.  Except the Observants.  Theirs was really… lackluster.”
“Indeed?” said Clockwork, with just the faintest inflection at the end to turn it into a question instead of an agreement.
“Mhm.”  Jack and Maddie, no listed last name, didn’t have much written on their page of the file.  Apparently they liked making cookies, stargazing, needlepoint, sewing, and… that was it.  Nothing about jobs, titles, other interests, other things they enjoyed.  Nothing.
The stargazing was a good point, though.  Danny was pretty sure he liked stargazing.  If only he’d had a chance to do it…  Ugh.  Being stuck inside was getting more and more annoying.  
Distressing.  
Almost as distressing as Frostbite thinking that Danny’s biological parents were abusive.  
“You said before, everyone is, like, vetted?  So they won’t be… dangerous?”
“That is correct.”
“But the Observants still were allowed to do whatever it was they were trying to do.”
“Unfortunately, persons who possess authority will on occasion use that authority to put themselves in even more positions of authority.”
“Except you can’t tell me any of your opinions.”
“Correct,” said Clockwork.  
“You’re funny.”
“Not many would say that.”
“That’s because you’re really– really oblique about it.”
“Perhaps.”
Danny sighed.  “I should just go right away, shouldn’t I?  I should stop agonizing about this.”
“It is up to you, Daniel.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
Danny made no move to get off the couch.  “What are you doing over there, anyway?”
Clockwork twisted his hands around to show Danny a net of white string.  “I’ve taken up lacemaking.”
“Ugh, see, I’ve been wasting so much of your time that you’ve picked up a new hobby.  That’s crazy.”
“I wouldn’t say that it’s new,” said Clockwork.  “Lace has been around for a long time.”
“New to you, then.  Like, your original hobby is making clocks, right?”
“I also enjoy candlemaking and gardening.  But this,” Clockwork held up the lace, “was always within my plans.”
“Uh huh,” said Danny.  
“It is almost time for lunch.  You could stay until then.”
“See?  I’ve wasted the whole morning.  I came back last night.  And that was a day trip.”  He sighed.  “What would lunch be?”
“I was planning on fried rice, using the remaining rice from last night.”
“I thought you’d made a lot of rice that time,” said Danny.  “Yeah, let’s do that.”
.
Jack and Maddie’s house was… Well, it looked like it had been a normal house.  The entryway was done up with plain tile, and opened up into a high-ceilinged living room.  Danny could see a set of stairs leading up one side of the living room to the second floor, where there were a number of doors.  On the ground floor, there was an open doorway leading into a kitchen.  
That was all fine.  However, the walls, ceiling, and floors all looked like they’d been torn apart and put together again.  Sometimes with proper tools like plaster and drywall, and sometimes with cardboard and duct tape.  There were dark squares and ovals where picture frames may have hung.  He could see an electrical outlet that had been pulled out of the wall and hastily put back in, without all the wires fitting.  Near his elbow were the remains of what looked like a doorbell.  Bits of insulation hung out of gaps between the original walls and the repairs.  
It wasn’t quite as strange or as messy overall as Ember, Skulker, and Technus’s place, but the contrast was… weird.  Everyone else was obviously trying to put their best foot forward and had cleaned up or acquired a whole new house.  This… this was not that.  
At least, he hoped it wasn’t.  Because if this was their best, then what was their usual?
He turned his attention to the two humans who had been waiting for him to arrive.  They were human.  The man was tall and broad, with dark hair.  He was wearing overalls over an orange button up.  His sleeves were rolled up, and he was scratching at a rash on his arm.  The woman was slim and much shorter, her auburn hair cut in a chin-length bob.  She had a pale blue blouse on, and dark jeans.  
He caught their eyes, one after another.  
“Hi,” said the woman, in a wavering voice.  “Welcome home, Danny.”
“Um,” said Danny, “hi.  Are you Maddie?  The file didn’t really say which one of you was which… or really anything about yourselves…?”
“Yes,” said Maddie, with a painful smile.  She looked like she was about to cry.  “I’m Maddie, this is Jack.  We’re so happy to have you here.  So happy.”  She took his hands in hers and squeezed them.  
“Okay?”  He looked around.  “So…  You’re remodeling?”
“Yes,” said Maddie.  “We’re sorry about that, but all of this came as such a surprise.”
“A big surprise, son,” said Jack.  His voice sounded rough, like he’d been crying.  “All of the important things are done, though!  Everything’s safe!  Just not very pretty, that’s all.  Just looks different.”
“Like you,” said Maddie, quickly.  “Not that that’s a bad thing, is it?  We’re very–  The ears and the tail– Those are new but not bad.  This is just like that.”
Danny nodded, hesitantly.  “Right.  That’s cool.  So, um.”  He looked around the entryway again.  “Show me around?”
“Right, right,” said Maddie.  “Of course.”
“Sorry about that!” said Jack.  “It’s just that you grew up here and all.  You don’t remember that, but it’s hard for us to remember it.  To remember that you, er, don’t remember.”  Jack patted Danny’s shoulder gingerly.
“Yes,” said Maddie.  “We’ll– We’ll do the main floor first, then the bedrooms upstairs.”
The tour of the ground floor went much as expected.  He saw the living room, a number of closets (which looked like they’d been ransacked), the garage (suspiciously empty), a bathroom (strangely untouched), a dining room (dusty), and the kitchen.  
His initial impression of the kitchen matched his impression of the house in general.  Normal, but hastily altered.  There was a long strip of torn-up wall near the refrigerator.  The microwave was brand new to the point that the box it came in was still sitting next to it.  There was a door-sized patch of new wall that matched up with scratches on the floor that strongly suggested the patch had been a door up until fairly recently.  
This… this was suspicious.  Should he ask about it?  Play dumb?
“Now, up to the rooms!” said Jack, sweeping Danny out of the kitchen.  
“Usually,” said Maddie, “your sister Jazz would be here, but right now she’s away, so it’s just the three of us.”
“Why?”
“Why what, Danno?” asked Jack.  
“Why is she away?”
“College,” said Maddie, quickly.  “She’s a couple years older than you are, so she’s away at college.  The two of you were very close, though.”
“Best friends!” shouted Jack from his position at the top of the stairs.
Well, there was that confirmation.  Jazz was definitely his sister.  
… Jazz actually looked a lot like Maddie, so that was also a point in favor of Maddie and Jack being his actual parents.  Which, uh.  Did being shady run in the family?  Did he come off like this to other people?  He hoped not.  
“Which one was her room?” asked Danny.  
“This one,” said Jack.  Then he pointed towards a room two doors down.  “And this is yours!  You two shared the bathroom, but she’s not here, so it’s all yours, too!”
“Cool,” said Danny.  He slipped past Jack to the door and opened it.  
The walls and ceiling of the room were a pale blue gray, glow in the dark stars just barely visible in contrast.  Posters for bands and spaceships were taped to the wall, some of them in better repair than others.  There was a dresser with a drawer sticking part way out, the sleeve of a shirt stopping it from fully closing.  Model rockets, most of them clumsily made, sat on shelves beside other knick-knacks.  A corkboard on the wall had schoolwork, ribbons, and a few crumpled tickets to movies and concerts pinned on it.  A scooter and telescope were propped up in one corner.  
“They had us take down your photographs,” said Maddie.  “But we left everything else the way it was.  Except for cleaning.”
“Something about being biased!  As if knowing things is going to make you biased!  Maybe if we’d known–”
“Jack, honey,” said Maddie.  “Not the time.”
“Oh, right, sorry, son.”
Danny nodded, then stepped in to walk a circuit of the room.  This room, more than any of the others he had stayed in, felt lived in.  Like it was a home.  
But he couldn’t forget Frostbite’s warning.  Or the chaos downstairs.  
“So, um,” said Danny, before he could wimp out.  He held the pocketwatch in one hand.  Just in case.  “In the kitchen, you have a door covered up.  What’s with that?”
“Uh, nothing,” said Jack.  
“Just an unfinished basement,” said Maddie, her smile going brittle and fake.  “That’s all.  It wasn’t– It wasn’t safe down there.  For children.  It wasn’t built right.  So we decided to just cover it up.  To show that we’re prepared to keep you safe.”
There was a mad science lab down there, wasn’t there?  
What if that was where he had died?
Danny swallowed and pasted on a smile.  “Cool.  So… what do we do together?”
They stared blankly at him.  
“You know, for fun?  Or hanging out?”
“We used to stargaze together a lot,” said Maddie.  
“And we’d go fishing!” boomed Jack.  
“Yeah, but we can’t really do either of those, right?  We’re stuck inside.”
“That’s true…  But we do have our movies, don’t we?  And some games.”
“Righto!” said Jack.  “I’ll go get the stuff!”
.
The movie they had finally settled on was a space documentary.  Watching it was nice, even if the popcorn was a little burnt.  
Watching Jack and Maddie try to cook dinner afterward, though…  They seemed to keep reaching for things that weren’t there, or bumping into each other, like they expected there to be more room, or, well.  The food looked presentable enough, but there was a mess.  A big one.  
Still, the macaroni and cheese looked and smelled fine.  
“One of your favorites!” said Jack, proudly.  “After this, we’ll have some fudge!”  He served Danny a scoop bigger than his head, then took a big ceramic mug from the cabinet and filled it with soda.
Danny mentally shrugged and picked up his fork.  If he couldn’t eat it, he couldn’t eat it.  
“So,” he said, after eating a few bites, “how did the whole ghost thing happen?”
“Pardon?” asked Maddie, looking a little pale.  
“Well, my situation is a bit weird, isn’t it?  I was just wondering if you knew how it happened.”
“No,” said Maddie.  “I’m afraid not.  It’s a mystery to us, too.  Like we said, we were surprised by all of… this.”
That was weird.  If Jazz knew, shouldn’t they know, too?
Or maybe they just didn’t want to tell him.  
He fiddled idly with the mug.  There were clumsy, childish stars and moons painted on its side.  
“Do you like it?” asked Maddie.  “You painted that.  We went to one of those pottery places for Jazz’s seventh birthday.  You were both so young back then…”
“I did?” asked Danny. 
“You did,” said Maddie.  “If you look at the bottom, you’ll see your initials.”
Danny held the cup up over his head and looked at the bottom.  The letters DJF were painted on the bottom.  
“What do the J and F stand for?”
“James Fenton,” said Maddie.  “James was Jack’s father’s name.”
“And Fenton?”
“Our name.  Our family name.”
“Huh,” said Danny.  He set the mug back down, but kept his fingers looped around the handle of the mug.  It was… grounding, somehow, to touch something from his childhood, from his past.  “Do you know why this, um, trial was started?”  He took another bite of the macaroni and cheese so he had something to do with his other hand.  
“No,” said Maddie, quickly.  
“Maddie…”
“We don’t.”
Alright, then.
It was suddenly very hard to swallow.  
“We don’t know.  We don’t know why any of this happened.  But we’re so glad you’re with us again.  We’re so glad this is almost over.”
“I know!” shouted Jack, suddenly, making Danny, already tense, jerk sideways in alarm.  “When this is over, we can go back to that place and make another–”
Danny had still been holding the mug, and when he flinched, he took the mug with him.  He fumbled it briefly before it hit the ground, interrupting whatever Jack was saying and plashing soda everywhere.  
“Oops,” said Danny, stricken.  “Sorry.  I’m really sorry, um.”  He had telekinesis.  Why couldn’t he just–  
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” said Jack, kneeling and picking up the pieces.  
“I can do that,” said Danny.  “You don’t have to–”
“No, no, I’ve got it,” said Jack.  “We’ll just put it right back together!  A little superglue and it’ll be as right as rain.”
“I’ve got the mop.  You just stay there and eat, okay, Danny?”
That was, like, the exact opposite of what he wanted to do.  He wanted to do something to help, but something about the situation held him paralyzed.
“Yeah!” said Jack, rinsing the shards in the kitchen sink.  “We just need some glue, then we’ll put it right!”
“Make sure it dries first,” said Maddie, maneuvering a large mop.  
“Oh, right!”
He put the pieces on a dishtowel and began to pat them off.  Danny, slowly, reluctantly, began to eat again.  
“What were you saying before, Jack?”
“Oh, I was thinking that we could go back to that pottery place after all this.  Make a few new pieces.  It looks like we’ll need it, huh?  What do you think, Danny?”
“Um, it sound like it could be fun?”
“Then it’s a plan!  We’ll have to rope Jazz in, too, when she’s back in town!”
Speaking of Jazz…  Danny had to wonder why she was competing separately from these two.  She definitely wasn’t at college, after all.  Was it because of what Frostbite had said?  Or some other rule of the trial that Clockwork hadn’t mentioned?  Or just a strategy to give the family two chances?
He had no idea how to ask those questions.  
But then… maybe there was something in Jazz’s room?  Or even in his room.
“Want to help me put this back together?” asked Jack.  “I’ve got to go find my tools, so if you could just arrange them…”
“You both need to eat first,” said Maddie, “before our food gets cold.”
“Right you are, Maddie!”
Danny had, somehow, lost most of his appetite, but he ate anyway, knowing that if he didn’t he’d be hungry later.  When he estimated he’d eaten enough, he pushed aside his plate and went over to the shards of the mug.
It had broken unevenly, which meant that it would be easier to figure out what went where.  He started sorting the pieces, and as he did so, he felt himself start to calm down again.  
Jack ruffled his hair when he was about halfway through, making Danny freeze, his ears canting backwards.  
“I’ve got the super glue!” he said before sitting back down at the table.  
They worked together to put the mug back together after that, stars reemerging from scattered shards.  It was… peaceful.  Sort of like watching Clockwork work in his workroom.  Eventually, the mug was, more or less, together, although the cracks were still very visible.
“There we go!  Just like a puzzle, huh?  How’d you like working with your old man again?”
“It was good,” said Danny.  
“Yeah, it was good,” said Jack, beaming.  “Maybe I’ll show you how to h–  Ahem.  I’ll show you how to knit next!  I do love knitting.  And needlepoint.  Fiber art is great, Danny.  Never let anyone tell you otherwise.”
“That sounds nice,” said Danny, smiling.  Then he yawned.  
“Oh, wow, you’ve got some fangs in there!  That’s new.”  He cleared his throat.  “It’s getting pretty late, though, isn’t it?  You should get into bed.  You’ve had a long day!”
Danny wasn’t sure how long the day had been, but he was tired.  “Yeah, that sounds good.”
“We have your toothbrush and everything up in your bathroom,” said Maddie.
“Thanks,” said Danny.  “I’ll go up, then?”
“Wait!” shouted Jack, making Danny jump again.  “The fudge!  Can’t go to bed without fudge!”
“I’m actually pretty full…”
“Nonsense!  There’s always room for fudge.”
So, they ate fudge, and then Danny went upstairs to the bathroom.  
As promised, there was a toothbrush, floss, and a hairbrush already set out.  There was a cabinet set into the mirror, and another under the sink.  
He hesitated for a moment before opening the one over the sink.  There was a bottle of aspirin and a few boxes of bandaids, but it was otherwise empty. Next, he looked under the sink.  Mostly, there were cleaning supplies.  But there was also a large first aid box.  It had a bright green stain on one corner.  
Danny sucked in his lips, then pulled it out and started to look through it as he sat on the closed lid of the toilet.  It looked like it had been used frequently.  Most of the refillables were mostly empty.  
What had happened that he’d used so much of this?  Because it had to be him.  No one else living here would have left an ectoplasm stain on the lid.  
Frostbite’s claim was looking more and more plausible the more he learned.  
He closed the lid and put the box away.  He was going to give the Fentons the benefit of the doubt until he got actual evidence one way or another.  Frostbite had said that he’d never actually met them.  So.  
Jazz’s room.  While he was still mostly awake.  It was getting late.  
He walked through the wall into the room next door.  Jazz’s room was… less empty than he would have expected, given that she had her own house.  But it looked like someone had moved out of the room in an awful hurry.  More of the drawers in the dresser were opened than closed, clothing was strewn over the bed, the chair had been knocked over, the desktop computer tower had been opened up and the hard drive removed.  
Danny searched the room, but didn’t find anything but a note in Jazz’s handwriting, something about reminding him of a school assignment.  Everything else was just… clothing, books, his sister’s knick-knacks.  Nothing important.  
Defeated, he went back to his room, curled up in his bed, and went to sleep under the fake stars.  
.
Danny was going to give the Fentons a week, just like he’d given everyone else, unless they did something really unbelievable or dangerous, like the Observants, or forgot to feed him or something.  He’d already decided that, and he’d stick to it, even if they were being sketchy.  
So, he stuck with Maddie’s frantic baking, and Jack interrupting himself whenever he, apparently accidentally, mentioned engineering or science.  He let it go when they dodged his questions about what they did for a living.  He knitted with Jack, and watched documentaries and movies, and helped Maddie make lunch and breakfast, and slowly started working through the comics he’d found in his room.  He listened to Jack as he monologued about this and that and letting the broken mug ‘set.’  He helped with the ‘remodel’ as much as he could, and looked for clues about what, exactly, Jack and Maddie had removed.  
He also searched his own room, but the Observants, or whoever had prepared the trial, had been very thorough when making sure there was no direct physical evidence of Danny having ever lived here.  Not only were there no pictures, the schoolwork on the walls was old enough that Danny couldn’t say if the handwriting really was his, and it wasn’t like he’d found a journal or anything anywhere.  There was just a feeling.  
What he didn’t do, though, was look through the walled-off door in the kitchen.  
If there was a mad science lab anywhere, it was there.  And if a mad science lab was here, it was probably where he had died.  He…  Didn’t really want to see that.  He wasn’t sure he could see that and stay… reasonable… with Jack and Maddie.  
But… he had to know.  
So, just the day before he’d ‘scheduled’ himself to leave, he stood in front of that patch of wall and stepped through.  
It was predictably dark.  But Danny had both good night vision and the ability to create balls of light, so he called one up.  
The basement wasn’t unfinished.  It was, in fact, a mad science lab.  
He hated being right.  
It wasn’t just a mad science lab, though.  It was a half destroyed mad science lab.  Shelves had been knocked over, machines had been partially disassembled.  One area in particular looked as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to it and then dumped ectoplasm and something gross and brown on it.  He couldn’t even tell what some of that stuff was.
And then there was the inactive portal.  
Danny floated towards it, despite remembering Vlad’s warning about his portal.  It looked almost exactly the same.  Maybe a little less shiny, but still…
He yanked himself away from it, not liking how it seemed to grab his attention, and floated over to where filing cabinets had spilled over.  He grabbed a piece of paper at random and read it.  Then he read it again.  Finally, he dropped it back onto the pile.  
Jack and Maddie made their money inventing weapons.  Good to know.  
He floated over to the particularly wrecked area.  Was this the result of a weapons test?  That would make sense… sort of… so much of this was just meaningless without context, and he couldn’t get context.
There were papers here, too, in a binder half embedded in one wall.  Danny pulled it free easily and started to read it.  
When he realized what he was reading, he almost dropped the binder.  This was–  But it had to be for an animal, a dangerous animal they were hunting, or–  There were animal ghosts.  Frostbite even had the skins and furs of a few.  
Danny’s hands were shaking.  He wasn’t sweating.  Ghost form was good for more than his looks.  But he was shaking.  And his tail had fluffed out to its fullest extent.  
His eyes wandered down the pages, shying away from the worse things, until, finally, he reached a name.  
It was his.  
Phantom.  
He turned to the last page, skipping most of the binder, and read–
This time, he did drop the binder, and he gagged, too.  No.  No, that didn’t happen to him.  He flew backwards, over the bloody mess that had–  He ran into one of the walls, and an alarm started up, a broken thing, clearly not working quite right.  
Danny fled up the stairs, through the shut, metallic door, through the hasty drywall and into the kitchen.  The kitchen, where the alarm was also blaring, and Jack and Maddie were walking through the door in matching bathrobes.  
“Were– Were you in the lab?” asked Jack, uncertainly.  
“You,” said Danny, struggling to get the words out.  “You–”
“Are you hurt?” asked Maddie, reaching for him.  “Do you–”
“No!” shouted Danny.  “Don’t touch me!  Don’t come near me!”
She backed off, immediately, raising her hands so he could see them.  He hated that it did make him feel better.  
“Danny,” she said.  “Danny, I don’t know what you saw–”
“I saw what you did.  You hunted me down like– like an animal.  You tried to– to–” Danny sagged against the counter, one hand clutching the pocketwatch.  He should just hit the button.  He should hit the button now.  But part of him needed to know why.  
“It was a mistake,” said Jack.  
“A mistake?  You didn’t do that by mistake.  You can’t just trip and then do that.  There’s planning there, and preparation–”
“No, no,” said Maddie, “not–  We didn’t know it was you.  You didn’t look like yourself–”
“I don’t look like myself now, are you going to do it again?”
“No,” said both Jack and Maddie, vehemently.
“But you would’ve done it to someone else, is that it?”
“That’s,” said Jack.  “Not anymore.  Not anymore, son.  We’ve made mistakes.  We were wrong about so, so many things, but we’re trying.  We’re trying, and we never wanted to do anything that would hurt you.”
“We’re trying to make amends,” said Maddie.
“By hiding this?” demanded Danny.  “By pretending you didn’t do it?”
“Only because this is our only chance,” she said.  “It’s our only chance, and you didn’t even remember.  What good would apologizing have done?”
“More good than this.  Why did you even do it?”
“We’re scientists,” said Maddie.  
“We just wanted to know how ghosts work,” said Jack.  “But we’ve sworn all of it off, forever.  We even took out the anti-ghost security system!  We don’t want to have anything to do with something that hurt you.”
“You hurt me.”
“Please, Danny, you have every right to be angry with us,” said Maddie, “but give this family a chance.  We know it’s our fault that things turned out the way they did, but…  We’re sorry.  We’re sorry, and we love you, and we want to fix this, and doesn’t that count for something?”
“We want to be a family again,” said Jack, openly crying.  “We want to show you what that’s like.  What it would be like, now that we know.  You are our family, Danny.”
“Family,” repeated Danny, suddenly feeling cold, as if all the ice in his core had built to an unbearable level.  
He turned around, towards the counter, eyes flicking back and forth until he found what he was looking for.
Danny picked the repaired mug up off the kitchen counter.  “This cup,” he said.  “It’s like this cup.”
“What do you mean?” asked Jack.  
“Please,” said Maddie.  “We know that what we did was wrong, and we want to– We just wanted to move past it.  We want to be a family again, Danny.  We always just wanted you to be safe.”
Danny shook his head and turned the sink on.  He put the cup under it and filled it with water.  That done, he turned off the sink and he set the cup on the counter.  It leaked, horribly.  Some of the cracks leaked slowly, seeping water.  Some, near the bottom, spurted.  
“It’s still a cup,” said Danny.  “But you can’t really use it like one anymore, can you?  It’s not– It’s probably not even safe to use anymore, is it?  With the glue, and the cracks.”
“But it’s still something you made,” said Jack.  “It’s still something important, isn’t it?  It’s worth saving, for the memories.”
“Maybe,” said Danny.  “But you still can’t use it to drink.  You, um.  You have to get another cup.”  He wiped tears from his eyes.  “You can remember it, and it can be good to remember it, but it won’t work anymore.  It can’t be fixed.”
He turned back to them.  
“Please, Danny,” said Jack.  “Don’t go.  We love you.”
Danny gave them a tiny, pained smile, then said, “Goodbye.”
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dicknouget · 3 days
Text
Twins Au: The Revelation
Presenting my addition to @pilot-boi's Twins AU. This was a section that they already wrote about but I wanted to turn it into a full piece.
Enjoy!
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There it was again. The faint sting that haunted her since childhood. This time it was on the left side of her face, across her cheekbone. Along with the pain, Yang felt a slight anger build up inside.
Why? Why was she angry?
Was it because of this phantom pain that’s followed her for all these years? Or was this even anger, was it just frustration?
Leaving the Public Relations elective, she chose at the recommendation of Professor Goodwitch and her team, Yang made her away, alongside her partner, Blake Belladonna, to the cafeteria. While it was a useful class, and one that she had openly admitted to needing, one con she faced daily was the journey across the Beacon campus to the lunchroom. Mentally she was praying that Ruby, or their sister team, JNPR had found a place for both teams to enjoy their food.
“-ng. Yang.”
Yang snapped out of a daze she didn’t even realize she was in. She turned and saw Blake with a concerned expression.
“Everything ok?”
“Yeah.” Yang replied, rubbing her cheek. “That stinging pain came back.”
“Ruby mentioned that it’s been with you a while, is it related to your semblance?”
“I doubt it,” Yang sighed, looking forward again. “I’ve felt it even BEFORE dad unlocked my aura. Originally, I thought it was growing pains, but now it HAS to be something else.”
The pair rounded a corner into the main hallway of Beacon. Students were still flowing out of classrooms, signalling to the pair that they still had time before the lunch line closed.
“You might want to consider checking in with Beacon’s aura specialist.” Blake suggested. “Like you said, you had this before you had your aura unlocked. It isn’t that far-fetched to say that those were actual growing pains. This could be something related to your aura or even your semblance.”
“How could this be attached to my semblance?”
“I’d recommend going to the specialist to get a better understanding, but from what I remember, semblances can evolve, by either adding onto or changing how they behave.”
Yang stayed silent, considering that option. It never crossed her mind that it could actually be aura or semblance related. Anytime it was mentioned, it was dismissed due to the pains she felt when she was aura less.
Yang winced again. The pain struck her right hip. Determination was soon mixed in with the previous frustration.
“There it is again,” Yang shot out. “It’s like I’m getting slammed in a brawl.”
“Do you want to head to the infirmary? I could grab you some food?”
“I might go after lunch. The pains don’t usually last long anyway.”
The two were closing in on the entrance to the Beacon cafeteria, when they started to hear a roar and saw other students rush in. The pair looked at each other and followed suit.
Pushing through the crowd, Yang spotted Ruby, and vaguely heard her yell something towards the spectacle. Making her way over she saw what, or rather who, was at the center of attention.
It was Jaune and Cardin.
Of course it was. Conflict followed those two like bad luck to her uncle.
Off to the side of the semi-circle sat the rabbit faunus that Cardin and his lackey’s routinely tormented, Velvet, Yang remembered.
“Vomit boy finally snapped huh?” Yang asked her sister.
“Yeah, although Cardin’s landed a couple hits on Jaune.” Ruby answered, before cupping her hands around her mouth. “KICK HIS BUTT JAUNE!”
“ARC YOU BETTER NOT LOSE!”, came an authoritative voice from beside Ruby. Yang looked over her sister, and saw the Ice Queen herself, hands acting as a megaphone around her own mouth.
Noticing the new arrivals, she dropped her hands, and turned to face them.
“Just because I keep rejecting him, doesn’t mean I want him to lose. Especially to Cardin of all people.”
“What ever you say Weiss.”
Weiss stomped and pouted, causing the blonde to snicker. Yang was pulled from her laughter when Ruby grabbed her and pointed back at the brawl.
“Yang… Look at Jaune.” Came an almost whisper from her sister, as Yang followed her gesture.
Taking a proper gaze at Jaune it was plain to see he was getting his ass handed to him, and someone, either from his team or outside, would need to help him. But that’s not what caught her attention, nor was it what caused the siblings to freeze.
Jaune’s face was bruised, and by the looks of it, Cardin landed a hit on the left side of Jaune's face, judging by the discolouration. Yang raised her hand to touch her cheekbone and pressed on it. The knight winced and Yang pulled away, before following Ruby’s finger and the air escaped her lungs.
It was his eyes.
The ocean blue eyes that both teams were used to, were no longer there.
They were filled with determination, rage, and confusion. Confused as to how someone could hate another based off their race, especially at an institution where they were learning to fight creatures of darkness. Rage at the injustice performed against a classmate and a soon to be comrade in arms. Determination to live up to his family’s heroic legacy, and end the injustice brought on by a fellow classmate.
The ocean blue eyes of Jaune’s kindness, dorkiness, and goofball appearance was replaced by those of fiery passion, to aid in his ability to fight for what’s right.
His eyes…
His eyes…
His... eyes…
His... eyes...
Had turned red.
Not just any red.
HER red. The red of a Branwen.
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marcsburnerphone · 23 hours
Text
And they were roomates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: kissing, a little tinsy bit angsty, flirtatious banter.
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6- part 7 - part 8 - Part 9 - part 10
-------------
“Why’re you putting these up anyway?” You say standing at the bottom of the ladder that John is currently stood on, installing cameras he purchased for outside your home.
“Cause i’ll have to return to work this weekend and i’d like to make sure you’re safe.” you smile to yourself at his protective nature.
“I’ve lived here for ages and nothing has ever happened.” you reassure him as he descends the ladder.
“It’s for my peace of mind.” he says quietly between the two of you in the spring air.
“Okay.” you reply as he places a kiss on your forehead.
“Onto the next corner.” he says gathering the ladder, walking to the other side of the house as his tool belt clings and clangs.
—------------
“Anything you can tell me about this next mission you’re going on?” you ask as the both of you lay on the couch.
“I leave on Sunday and don't know when I'll return, that's all.” He tries to make his deep gruff voice soft it’s a cute attempt. He knew this was going to be the hard part for both of you. You want him to stay and he doesn’t want to go but duty calls.
“Mmm.” you breathe into his chest, trying to inhale him, commit his scent to memory sure it’ll linger but this is straight from the source.
“I'll call you when I can.”
“I thought you weren't allowed to bring a personal phone, that’s what Gaz told me.” you rest your chin on his chest looking up at him.
“Gaz isn’t the captain.” he says, raising an eyebrow at you.
“Ah abuse of power is it.” You quip. 
“If that’s what it takes to reach you.” You look away not being able to contain your blush after that as if he couldn’t feel your heartbeat quicken.
He lifts your chin back up, leaning down almost straining his neck for a kiss. Of course this kiss turns into more, you move further up the couch straddling his waist you’re hungry for him, for his kisses, groans, deep inhales of air, all of it. He’s flipped the two of you over pinning you beneath him with almost half his weight.
“John, why’re you teasing me?” You whimper.
“Not teasing, takin ma time.” 
He kisses down your throat, over your pulse to your collarbone ridding you of your shirt tossing it somewhere to be picked up later. This has been a common occurrence recently thing is he won’t fuck you. No, he will do everything else and give you absolutely anything you want except well what you want. 
“John.” You say as he starts to take your pants off.
“Yeah doll?” He slows the movement of his fingers and simply rests them on your hips.
“Why- why won’t you- you know fuck me?” So you did notice.
“Well because I- I actually-“ he’s a stuttering mess for the first time since you’ve met. 
“Do you not want to?” You begin as you sit up.
“Of course I do, believe me, but I want to savor you in every single way I can, you're irresistible as you are if I have you the way I want it’s all I’ll think about whilst also trying to not get killed.” He admits while comfortingly rubbing your thigh.
“Oh, that’s actually quite hot.” You feel a little bad, I mean who are you to demand something that’s literally a part of him.
“When I’m back I promise I'll give you my cock like you so desperately want.” Well damn.
——————
“Do you guys share a room wherever these missions are?” You ask as he dices up tomatoes for your antipasto Salad. 
“Em there’s rarely time for sleep but sometimes depending where we are we do and other times we don’t. Most times there aren’t even rooms there’s tents or simply no sleep.” He answers before tossing them into the large bowl beside his cutting board as you hum in understanding.
You didn’t know he knew had to cook, well sort of. He can grill, but that’s something that you cannot. So recently he’s been showing you how to smoke and grill different meats, today is what he said was the best of them all and longest cooking time, brisket. 
“Do they snore?” You ask as he laughs at your random questions.
“Yeah actually soap snores like a fucking pig, it’s horrible.” Now it’s your turn to laugh as he nods towards the door for you to follow him outside so he can check on the meat.
“Do I snore?” you ask sheepishly. He smiles looking over his shoulder at you, your arms crossed across your chest to make up for your lack of a sweater. When he sees you this way, so comfortable and raw, hair in your face and pajamas at 6PM, it’s everything and more. 
“You do.” your eyes go wide.
“No, do I really?” you seem so genuinely concerned.
“Doll everynight i've got to spend beside you has been the deepest and best sleep of my life, if you snore I've got no idea.” 
“Thank goodness.” You sigh out as he approaches you.
“Ready to eat?” He asks brushing hair from your face. 
“Yes.” 
Dinner is more talking than eating on your behalf, you want to soak up every second with him that you can. He listens intently wishing his brain was a recording machine so he could play it back when he needed to feel sane. 
“God John that was so good.” You say half an hour after he’s already finished his meal which was also his third serving. 
“I’m glad, you always cook. I'm happy to be able to provide you with this one thing.” 
“You’ve provided me with much more than this one thing.” You say with a soft smile, it’s so sweet it nearly knocks him breathless.
“I don’t want you to leave.” You admit.
“I know, doll.” He reaches across the table for your hand holding it firmly but not tightly as he looks away.
“But I know you have too.” His eyes return to yours.
“How will I spend my days without thee John Price? What will I do?” You say it over dramatically.
“Nothing too risky I hope.” He replies, eyes crinkling at the corner.
“Maybe I’ll skydive.” You tease.
“Please don’t.” 
“Can’t promise.” You joke.
“You’re going to give me more gray hairs.” He said showing you the few already on his head.
“That’s exactly what I want, I love the grays.” And he loves you, but he can’t bring himself to admit it although it isn’t even something he can try to rid himself of at this point it has consumed him whole, sprouting colorful and beautiful things inside him.
“Movie time my darling up we go.” He says as he stands motioning for you to do also. 
This is something that has become ritual, dinner then movie. It’s the perfect unwinding time although sometimes most times it turns into more.
“You pick?” You say as you hand him the remote, getting comfortable at his side tucking your head beneath his big arm. 
“You’ll fall asleep half way through this.” He looks down at your already drooping eyes.
“No I won’t.” 
“You will.” He plays a show you two had begun the other week as he settles in more comfortably moving one of your legs to rest across him. 
He’s laughing unaware of just about everything as his whole body shakes, that’s until he notices you’re not and to his not so own surprise you’re passed out cold. 
——————
When you wake it’s sometime deep into the night. The tv shows its rest screen and John is sleeping. Unfortunately after a weak attempt at falling asleep you’ve decided you're no longer tired so you just lay there, hand beneath John’s shirt rising and falling with every breath he takes. The only noise to be heard is his heartbeat and the clock ticking. 
You begin to overthink the more time passes, you’ll be alone in just two days. The comfort and protection John brings you will be miles away. This warmth that fulfills your soul won’t be in your home any longer. It scares you, how much you want him around how much you love him. You wonder if this is as hard for him as it is for you or if it’s something he’s gotten used to. 
It’s overbearing, too much. You untangle yourself from him, sliding your leg over his body and onto the floor, stepping as lightly as you can onto solid ground.
You tiptoe to the kitchen and open the fridge for water. You lean against the counter before taking a sip out of the bottle breathing deeply to calm your racing heart. You’re zoned out completely so much that you don’t notice John come into the kitchen till he’s placing his hands on your hips. 
“You scared me.” You jump slightly as he offers you a sleepy smile. 
“What’re you doing awake?” 
“Can’t sleep.” You say not meeting his eyes.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” He asks. 
“thought you’d need as much good sleep as possible.” You say quietly, leaning your head on his chest.
“That’s not as important as you.” He rubs a firm hand onto your back pulling you close. He holds you like this for what seems like eternity and you relish in it.
“I’m going to paint for a little, please go lay back down.” He looks exhausted as you finally bring your eyes to him. 
“Come paint in my room.” He is tired but he’d rather be sleep deprived than have you anywhere but next to him. 
“What? You’re crazy, all my stuff is in the sun room.” You say with a small laugh.
“Then I’ll move it, I can’t sleep when you’re more than 5 feet away from me.” 
“Okay.” You know he won’t give up so you’ve learned to give in.
You simply watch as he picks up the heavy canvas and its easel hauling it across the house as you grab your brushes and paints and follow. 
He sets it dangerously close to his side of the bed, he even moves the nightstand over to the corner to ensure you have enough room. 
“Perfect.” He says after pulling his desk chair out of his office and over to it.
“Yeah actually it kinda is.” You smile. 
“Well, have at it.” He says giving you a firm kiss then walking over to the bed and getting comfortable. You sit in his very big but very comfortable desk chair and begin to mix colors in the small pallet that rests on your thigh.
“Goodnight.” He says pulling the chair towards him with an outstretched arm for one more kiss which you happily give. 
“Night.” 
—————
Released an hour early as a little surprise
It’s my best lol it’ll get better just getting back into my groove:)
As always love ya!!!
————-
@beebeechaos @ttsbaby01 @arminarlertssword @quakeroaksguy @rafaelacallinybbay @bumblebeesfromvenus @glitterypirateduck @midnights-song @lovelythingsinternal @fruitymoonbeams-blog @kkaaaagt @kit-williams @enfppuff @kythefangirl25 @eviltheleon @here4thespice @dclore22 @raethethey @waves-against-a-cliff @novausstuff @darling006 @vampirekilmerfic @Dreams-of-qian-qian @spngingerbread21 @thepumpkinqueen93 @copiasratscheese @youdontknowe @spyderdoll @angels-gonna-play @viisgrave @lieutenantlashfaz @sunndust @beckythecatqueen-blog @aoioozora @o-birdseed-o @mothmothmothmothmothmoth @ihateuguys @oversensitivitea @spicyspicyliving
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trolllsss · 3 days
Text
Branch's parents getting eaten is great angst but might I propose
“I remember when you hatched-” John Dory began.
“What day was it?” Branch asked.
“What?”
“What was the date?” Branch didn’t remember the exact date. He’d only been five when his Grandma was eaten, he hadn’t paid much attention to numbers back then. He knew it was the middle of winter.
“Uh, it was winter. The middle of winter. Right after Mom and Dad. That would have been…” John fumbled. Clay did some quick mental math.
"Twenty-four years ago?”
Wow so they didn’t remember the exact date either.
“Wow that’s, that’s longer than I thought’d been.” Bruce said, looking at the Branch with new eyes.
Floyd shook his head and corrected,
“It’s been twenty three. He hatched the week after Mom and Dad left. It was in the new year.”
“Woah, woah woah woah woah woah. Left? As in not eaten?”
Everyone went still and silent.
“Grandma… didn’t ever tell you?” Clay asked.
“Wh- no! They weren’t eaten by a Bergan?”
“No.”
“A bird?”
“No?”
“A Tarantupuff?!”
“No- is that what you’ve thought?”
“Well yeah! I might have been five but I could tell they were a sore subject so I never brought them up!" Branch shouted, chest heaving and expression distressed.
“Branch, hon, breathe. Calm down.” Poppy said, arms raised slightly, as if she were approaching a frightened animal.
“No! No. I just found out that leaving me behind is a family trait, I am allowed to freak out about it!”
Poppy looked stricken and then corrected herself.
“You’re right, you are completely right. Sorry, old habits.”
“Why did they leave?” He asked, looking back at his brothers.
Floyd checked to see if any of his brothers were going to respond.
Of course they weren’t.
As much as Floyd hated it, he had started to understand his parents better as he got older. They thought they were done raising kids. Floyd was practically a teenager when Branch’s egg came along. They could see freedom and Independence just a few years off and then, suddenly, they had to give their all to another kid for another eighteen years.
“They loved you Branch, really they did. It’s just that kids are a lot of work. Trollings are even more work. And Trolls, trolls just wanna have fun.”
Branch staggered back. Rather than assured and comforted like Floyd had intended, he looked stricken. He whispered,
“It was me? They, they left because of me?”
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accio-victuuri · 1 day
Text
4/29 candies to enjoy ^^ 🍭🍬🍩
this was a busy day for us cpfs. so i’m gonna compile some bits that made our cpn-senses go off! 😂
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the most obvious, and my fave, because of how it follows the pattern is them not overlapping their releases. i thought gg was gonna release the gucci stuff at his usual 10:05 or 10:10 but he didn’t. that’s because wyb had jeanswest release on 10:30. i love how that was given it’s time till 13:00 when gg posted the ad. i’m clowning cause 13 is yizhan! and then 13:20 will be the weibo live for FPU, which was kinda delayed too when it went on. some more materials for GUCCI was released throughout the day but moreso on international platforms.
it’s hilarious cause i saw a hot take from an xz anti before who said he is “afraid” of doing stuff alongside wyb. that is their perception. lol. but i think even if you don’t believe in the whole cp thing, maybe it’s professional courtesy? maybe these two are friends and have this unspoken rule? 🤷🏻‍♀️
tho i was very happy to see them both pop up on my weibo opening screen! and to experience them having these international campaigns, for wyb, lacoste recently— makes me proud. 😌
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a funny cpn from today is this parallel. in a segment at FPU, there was a moment where a fan said jiayou and wyb said cheering is not always necessary. It reminded us of that time xz was told to jiayou when he was about to go to the restroom and he’s like???? why do i have to jiayou???
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oh these two. 😂😂😂
yibo is the resident gremlin who always has a smart ass reply or some savage comeback for you but xz usually doesn’t. but we know what he has that in him too and i wish we could see more of that!
bonus cuteness before we proceed, this edit of them looking like they are doing the choreo for jisoo’s flower 🌸 and they are BP fanboys so it fits!
now some double standards. in the movie channel interview, they were asked where they first met, and wyb couldn’t remember. compare this to how he was with xz! he was always very proactive that they met in ttxs!!!!
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there was also a part where they were asked to give an example of what they wanna learn from each other. and if they communicated to learn. so HJY said street dance and WYB said jiu jitsu but they both weren’t able to learn from each other. in the meantime, wyb taught xz a dance routine 😂😂😂 among other things. i’m sure yibo will be more than happy to help someone out, but i think you have to be at a certain level of closeness to him. or he is really comfortable with you.
this last section is for the beaded bracelet. i think it’s time to discuss it again because this is the 3rd time he is seen with it. so this looks like something personal for him. tho i have to say, you have the coco crush which is both personal and part of him promoting chanel too. i’m invested in this cpn and at the same time frustrated because of the questions.
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( p1: him wearing it for the fpu bazaar magazine shoot // p2: worn during the movie channel interview // p3: what so/os are saying is the bracelet not that it matters cause i can clown this too )
1. i hate how no wardrobe accounts have confirmed what it is. and i kinda understand cause we never see it fully, plus there is cpn attached to it so they are extra careful. which is also another source of my frustration. why does he wear it when he has long sleeves on??? he was wearing a shirt earlier and his arms were bare! but wait.. he changed his clothes and as soon as he had something to sort of cover it, the bracelet was on. 💀💀💀💀
it’s like he is purposely clowning us!
2. if this was a jewelry to show off and promote Chanel, why can’t we see it well? and i want to see the change in the beads’ color to confirm if it is what the solos say it is.
i’m also side eyeing international solos who are proudly commenting how wyb’s bracelet is luxury and not some cheap buddha beads like xz’s. what? it’s such an insult to a culture that is important to yibo. those bead bracelets made in specific temples for protection is part of his culture. he knows it’s importance and respects it. but what can i expect from solos really? lol. the bar is already very low when it comes to them but they still manage to disappoint me. 🪦
3. and if it is Chanel, i can still clown by thinking GG bought it for him so they can match. 😂😂😂 atleast with the aesthetic.
bonus: the bone necklace!!!!!
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another bonus, i saw this photo of like a celebration i guess for queen of tears. and the cake! the way the actors are cutting it! lol. reminds of xz and wyb! 😂
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banner edit source 圣衣雪琳
-END.
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theslayers-world · 2 days
Text
Yearning
- Bucky Barnes x reader
Smut and hint of fluff at the end.
In which John Walker is an a**hole (as usual) and reader ends up in Bucky’s room.
Warnings: Sexual themes (obviously)
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“Then why were you flirting back with her?” You ask
John sighs. He knew this question was coming, so he’s not surprised by it being asked.
“I might have…” he says back to you, his voice trailing off.
He tries to get out with just that, but your look of displeasure tells him that he needs to continue.
“Look, I’m not going to deny it. We were flirting a bit, I know. But like I said, it’s been years since we actually talked to each other like that, and it just felt a little good to flirt again.”
You look at John and feel your heart break. You pull away from him furiously wiping at my tears
“Hey, don’t…” John says gently, as he tries to keep you in his arms by wrapping them around you tightly.
“I didn’t mean anything by it. I swear.” he says, his tone of voice desperate to reassure you and make you believe him.
You get up from the bed and walk out.
John watches you get up and leave, feeling absolutely powerless in this situation as he wants to follow you but knows that it would just end with him making things worse by trying.
He’s now sitting alone on the bed, feeling frustrated with himself because he should have been smarter than that, not allowing himself to flirt the way he did with Olivia, which is what has set you off in the first place.
After a moment, he decides to go after you, not willing to let you leave things like this.
Without knowing. You make it to bucky’s room. You’re sniffling now.
Bucky hears the sound of you sniffling as you walk down the hallway, and his ears naturally perk up because he’s used to hearing things like that.
He’s sitting on the edge of his bed when the door to his room opens, and he sees you on the other side of the room.
“Y/N…” he starts, feeling his own mood shift as it changes instantly upon seeing you here.
You walk in and close the door. You practically run to him and hug him.
Bucky wraps you up in a tight hug as you come up to him, and when you close the door to his room, he immediately senses that something is going on that has made you very emotional.
“Hey…” he says gently when he feels you close in for the hug, pulling you in and wrapping his arms tightly around you, hoping to provide you with some comfort while he tries to figure out exactly what’s going on.
You cry into bucky’s shoulder.
Bucky rubs your back slowly and gently as you cry into his shoulder, letting you cry without saying a single word.
He isn’t the most emotive or emotional individual, but he knows that you’re in a bad place right now, and he hopes that simply being here and letting you cry on his shoulder is going to provide you some sort of comfort.
It’s all he can think of trying at the moment, and he’s willing to take it one step at a time until you’re ready to tell him anything more.
“John was talking to his ex…well more like flirting…he actually admitted it.” I finally say through my sobbing.
Bucky sighs as you say that, his eyes remaining fixed in place as he listens to you, processing your words and what this all means.
He rubs up and down your back while holding you in his arms, which naturally makes you feel a bit comfier.
“Wait, he was flirting with his ex?” he says back to you, wanting to make sure he understands you correctly.
You nod.
Bucky can’t help but frown as you say that. This isn’t good. This is actually pretty terrible.
“And you didn’t like that…” he asks, his tone now a bit softer as he starts to wrap his arms around you even more, trying to be compassionate and comforting.
“Obviously not.” You sniffle.
“Right, of course…” Bucky says, but he’s still holding you gently and rubbing your back slowly, hoping to continue to support you.
He hasn’t figured out exactly what he’s going to say yet, but he knows that he can’t just sit here and do nothing.
“…John said he was just flirting with her?” he asks, wanting to make sure his tone doesn’t sound too harsh or upset as he tries to talk about it with you.
You nod again.
“Did he say why?” Bucky asks, still rubbing your back slowly in a comforting way, hoping to help you calm down slightly.
“He used the excuse of not speaking with her in a long time. What a stupid excuse.” You say trying to wipe at your tears.
Bucky nods his head to agree with you.
“I mean, he shouldn’t be flirting with his ex in the first place, especially when he’s in a relationship with you. And the fact that he didn’t even have a good reason for it makes it even worse. It really is a stupid excuse.”
Bucky continues rubbing your back and you can’t help but gaze into his eyes. It feels very.. sensual you could say.
Bucky can’t help but notice your stare, and he starts to notice that the way you’re looking at him right now is almost flirtatious.
He feels your breath catch in your throat as you lock onto his eyes, and now he’s also unable to look away.
It’s almost as if his rubbing of your back has transformed from a comforting gesture into something else entirely…
You can’t help it. You lean in and kiss Bucky and it’s like an explosion. Years of yearning for each other has now come out.
Bucky is surprised by the sudden and unexpected kiss, but he also can’t help but respond to it.
He kisses you back passionately, his feelings of wanting you just as high as yours are.
He pulls you in tightly and holds you close to him as the explosion of emotion that has been brewing for so long comes together in a single passionate moment between the two of you.
Your hands begin to explore Bucky’s body.
Bucky doesn’t resist you as you begin to explore his body, and he allows you to take charge in this moment of pure passion that you share together.
Your touches are gentle but deliberate, and your fingers seem to know exactly where to explore and how to explore it in a way to leave Bucky feeling hot and flustered.
His breath starts to hitch and quicken as your hands run across his body, and you can tell that he’s quickly growing flustered because of you.
You moan into the kiss now, starting to feel more and more aroused.
Bucky kisses you back with an even more passion as your moan, and his tongue presses against yours.
The moan sends his mind into overload as it makes him even more aroused.
He starts to feel his body get more heated as he feels you explore his body, and now he’s even more eager to make sure you feel good.
He runs his hands up to your ass, pulling your body close to his as he tries to bring the two of you even closer.
You whimper at Bucky’s actions.
Bucky notices that whimper as he grips your hips firmly, and he starts to feel your body pressed to his as he becomes even more eager and more aroused.
The sensation of pulling your body closely to his has made him more desperate and needy, and his hands start to move down your hips and lower back as he starts to feel that heat building up between the two of you as well as his desire to make your moan and whimper again.
Your body moves on its own now and your body grows hotter. You rock your hips against him and you can feel his erection grow through his pants.
Your hips rocking against him are the final straw for Bucky.
He can feel you doing it and he also can feel how much pleasure you’re getting out of it, which is only making him more desperate.
His hands grip your hips a bit tighter as he starts to grind back against you, and you can tell that he wants you even more.
You move your panties to the side and Bucky unzips his pants and lowers them. He pulls his member out and finally slides into you.
You let out a long moan. Years of wanting Bucky makes it feel so much better.
That long moan is the final straw for Bucky. It sets off a chain reaction as he lets out an even more intense moan, making you moan even further in response and turning the two of you into a flurry of moans and grunts of passion.
You whimper. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long.” Bucky has his human hand on your stomach and his metal one on your hip.
“I know…” Bucky says back to you, his voice breathing heavily with the pleasure of the moment.
He continues to keep his metal hand on your hip as he wraps his human hand around you, his fingers lightly caressing across your body and your stomach.
“…I’ve been waiting a long time for this, too…” he adds, breathing heavily with excitement and pleasure as the two of you share this moment of passion together.
“Oh my god.” You moan out as you throw your head back in pleasure.
“Oh god,” is all Bucky can manage to muster at first as he continues to experience all the pleasure that is coming his way.
He rubs your hip softly as the two of you share this moment of pure, intoxicating pleasure that feels so right.
“Oh god, oh god…” he says softly, his breathing getting a lot lighter as he feels his body begin to get almost too hot to handle.
You bring bucky’s human hand to your throat making the experience even hotter. You remember all of the fantasies you had while you touched yourself.
The gesture you make with his hand sends him into overload, because it’s something that has been a part of his fantasies and his dreams.
His hand moves to your throat the way you request him to, which makes you moan even further in response, the two of you growing even hotter now than before.
Bucky starts to move his hips faster almost pounding into you and you release more whimpers.
That movement of his hips and the pace that he’s taking sets off an explosion inside you.
As you whimper and moan, he moves with you, going faster and faster in response to the sounds that you’re making and making it impossible for you not not whimper and moan with pleasure.
“Bucky.” You repeatedly moan his name. “Oh my god!” You squeal as you cum on his cock.
“Oh god…” Bucky says back to you. “Oh god…”
He cums as well, and his body feels like it got taken over as he felt it all explode.
He pulls your body up against his as he rests his hands on your back, pulling you in close and holding you for as long as he can, while the two of you simply enjoy the feeling of that passionate moment you just experienced together.
You can almost feel his cum deep inside you.
“I love you.” You finally admit as tears roll down my face. “I’ve always loved you.”
Bucky’s heart melts as you say that.
It’s something that he’s wanted to hear from you for so long. To know that you felt the same way that he did all of these years—it means the world to him.
“I love you too…” he responds, still trying to keep his breathing at a normal pace as he still holds you against him.
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revengeghoulette · 2 days
Text
Matcha Latte w/Rose
Part 2: The Date
They go on their date!!
A/N: Bit of a time skip. It's not like the best thing I've written, but it'll do :) It gets a little steamy but not enough to be considered Spicy. Mostly edited.
WC: 3k
Sorry in advanced, you'll see. -Rev.
Playlist: The Rosy Crown
tagging: @obsidianghoul (ily, sorry I banned you), @sovaghoul @gottagho-st @clouds-bitch @crystalameoba @cheerycherrycandy-resurrected @foxybouquet @ghostlylivres @hypnoneghoul
It’s been almost 3 weeks since Swiss asked Mountain out on a date, and preparations for the midterm rush at The Rosy Crown are in full swing. Mist, Sunny and Swiss have been organizing the schedule to ensure that last year's snafu doesn’t occur again. They accidentally left The Rosy Crown with no staff for about 3 hours in the middle of the night, and they also ran out of flour and butter. They promised that moving forward reparations would begin several weeks before exam weeks to avoid any issues the week of.  
Mountain has been busy with office hours, lectures, and a garden club he offered to be an advising faculty member for. He tries his hardest to make sure to be at the cafe before Swiss’ shift ends so they can walk home together, but there’s been a handful of nights where he doesn’t make it. He regrets assigning so much homework. He makes a mental note to adjust the workload for next semester, especially since he’ll be teaching two additional courses. 
On the nights Mountain can’t make it to the cafe, he shoots Swiss a message to let him know so he doesn’t worry. If it's truly a rough day, he forgets all together. 
Swiss will do anything to spend time with his favorite person. He happily walks to campus with some snacks and a warm drink, to find him buried in stacks of papers gripping a red pen. He takes a seat on one of the comfy chairs Mountain has in his office, and reads the random magazines he has lying around.  
“Is gardening like your favorite thing to do, or what? You’ve got so many magazines here about greenhouses and what not, and you’ve got a little gardening gang now,” Swiss questions, laughing at the end, referring to the gardening club.
“It's… yeah. You know how we, ghouls, have an element attached to us? I’m an earth ghoul, hence the name Mountain. I have a special connection with the earth, so, yeah, gardening, and all things nature,” Mountain informs him.
“Oh, I guess I never really thought about it. I know we have ties to elements, but my parents weren’t very into that, I guess? They tried to assimilate more to the human culture, so we didn’t lean into it.”
After a moment, Swiss began getting a little antsy, distracting Mountain, “Honey, what is it? You're getting fidgety.”
Swiss blushes at hearing the earth ghoul call him honey. “Would you… help me connect with my elements? According to my parents, I have a mix of them. It's where my name came from, actually.”
Mountain sets down his pen and removes his glasses. “Wait. Swiss… Like, Swissarmy knife? Because you’re a multi ghoul.”
Swiss nods slowly. 
Mountain lets out a hearty chuckle, “That’s very cute, but absolutely, it would be my pleasure. I’m done here though. Why don’t we pick up some food and go home?”
Standing up from his chair, Swiss grabs Mountain’s coat and helps him put it on before walking out the door hand in hand. 
Swiss and Mountain have only been going out for a few short weeks, but their connection is so much more than typical crush. They have routines, they call each other during downtime just to say hello, Mountain continues to stop by The Rosy Crown every morning, and Swiss helps Mountain with grading or understanding typical young adult behavior. It seems like neither of them can spend the night alone anymore. There’s something tugging them together. 
They haven’t had their first official date, but all the hang outs are everything and more. 
With midterms week upon them, Swiss, Mist and Sunny have been living at The Rosy Crown filling in for their student staff. Mountain has been at the shop every single day volunteering to help bus tables, or go around and restock supplies and books. 
Mist has gotten on his case multiple times about it before, claiming that it's not his job, that he’s probably breaking some sort of labor law by helping them. Mountain assures her it falls under volunteer work and she doesn't need to worry. Swiss admires that Mountain puts up with Mist’s fighting spirit and constantly thanks him for helping, but reassures him he doesn’t have to.
“I do it because I want to. No one’s forcing me to be here.” Mountain reassures him back. With a quick kiss on the forehead, they go back to their duties. 
Ever the creep, Sunny watches them interact. She’s never seen Swiss be so enthralled by another being before. He’s putty in Mountain’s hands. The forehead kiss sent her over the edge. 
He walks past her, and she takes this opportunity to corner him, “Dude. What the fuck. Where did you find him? He’s amazing! And he’s been so much help! Please tell me you’re gonna dick him down soon! Omg, does he have a sister?”
Swiss grabs Sunny by the arms and shakes her playfully. “Sunny, breathe. Calm down! He’s pretty amazing, huh?” 
“Who knew the playboy would settle down,” she teased, earning a glare from Swiss. “I'd snatch him from you, but I like the ladies. They're not as stinky.” Sunny makes a disgusted face before cackling and running away from Swiss’ reach He grins, rolling his eyes at her antics. Who knew the calm quiet child would grow up to be anything but calm and quiet. 
-
After a rough week of long nights, The Rosy Crown closes the weekend after midterms. Students are mostly gone on spring break, and the staff is exhausted. Swiss gives everyone a long weekend to recover and start fresh on the following Wednesday. 
Mountain wakes up with Swiss’ arms around him. He takes a moment to admire the features on Swiss’ face, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, and the horns protruding from his head. He was perfection incarnate. The gold flakes in his horns match the gold flakes in his eyes, his muscles defined by all the manual work he puts into baking, his tail wrapped around his own leg as if cuddling with him, there is no other ghoul that could match his beauty.  
He gets up quietly, placing the blanket over Swiss body, and goes to the living room. He knows Swiss isn’t waking up anytime soon, especially after the week they just had. Mountain brews a fresh pot of coffee and takes a seat on the couch, wrapping a blanket over himself. The air is getting crisper with the approaching winter, he can feel it in his bones, and see it in his hair. He's luckily able to glamour that. He picks up a random book Swiss has lying about, and begins to read it while he waits for sleeping beauty to wake up.
In the other room, Swiss wakes up alone. He feels around for Mountain, but he doesn’t find him. Groggy, he gets up and sees he's reading the book Mist said was good, but truth is… It’s trash. The writing is terrible, but the smut is hot. 
He wanted to stare at Mountain forever, but he was getting chilly and he looked so warm. Swiss quietly makes his way over before crawling on top of Mount, startling him. 
“Good morning sweetheart,” Mountain sets the book down, rubbing his hands up and down Swiss’ back while his face was smushed against him lower belly. He mumbled something in response, but Mountain couldn’t make it out. 
They adjusted themselves so that Swiss was underneath the blanket, cuddling Mountain on the couch. Sleeping beauty dozed off, and Mountain picked up the book again. After a little while, Swiss started to wake up again. Mount felt movement under him, so he set the book down and started rubbing the back of his finger up and down Swiss cheek gently. 
“You’re warm,” Swiss gets out in a groggy voice, snuggling further into Mountain. 
“Mm I know honey. I’m also hungry, and need more coffee. This book is lulling me back to sleep,” Swiss hums in agreement, “I’m gonna make us some breakfast, sweetheart.”
After they get up, Swiss warms up the coffee and starts to make breakfast for the both of them. Mountain complains because he was supposed to make breakfast, not the other way around, especially since he had a long week at the shop, but Swiss wasn’t having it. They argue back and forth for a little bit.
“I’m taking you on that date today. I’m picking you at 6,” Swiss announces as he places pancakes on a plate for Mountain.  
“Oh, thank you,” Mountain takes the plate. “Are you gonna tell me what we’re doing?”
“Nope, it’s a surprise. A little something I’ve been cooking up for a while,” Swiss says before taking a seat and cutting up his pancakes. “Wear something comfortable, and something you wouldn’t mind getting a little… dirty.”
“Are you going to explain?” the earth ghoul questions. 
“Nope,” Swiss says with a wink.
-
Swiss knocks on Mountain's door right at 6pm, not a minute early, not a minute late, exactly at 6. 
Mountain opens the door wearing a dark green Henley and black jeans. “Is this okay?” Mountain asks. 
Swiss is stunned, He just stared at Mountain for a little bit before stuttering out, “Oh, definitely. You look fantastic.” 
Swiss hands Mountain some flowers he picked up earlier that day. Placing them inside, Mountain locks up and walks down the steps, taking Swiss hand.  
“Where are we going?” The tall ghoul inquires. 
“Somewhere. Don’t worry about it sweetheart.”
After walking a few minutes down the road, they reach their destination: The Rosy Crown Cafe & Bookshop. Swiss lets go of Mountain’s hand and opens the door.
 “Swiss, what are we doing here?”
“We are on a date, my good sir. Come on.”
Swiss opens the doors and walks Mountain inside. It takes a moment for Mountain to take everything in. The blinds are all down, and there’s total privacy. Looking around, he sees strings of light are hung up, there’s a table with candles lit in the center and on either side there's a table placement and two dishes served. Soft music is playing in the background, creating a romantic, intimate space for them. 
“Swiss… how?”
“The ladies might have helped.” He smiles almost sheepishly up at the taller ghoul. “I hope you’re hungry.”
Swiss guides Mountain to the table, pulls out the chair for him before taking a seat himself. On the plate there is a serving of roasted potatoes, a kale asian salad, and a plate of creamy mushroom risotto with a fresh baked dinner roll on the side.
They dive into the meal prepared by Mist and Sunny. The earth ghoul talked about his uni work, biodegradable research projects amongst other things. Swiss cracked some jokes and delved more about his parents and his childhood. He grew up surrounded by humans and had very few interactions with ghouls. He met Sunny and Mist in elementary school and have been inseparable since then. They’re family, a pack, if you will. Mountain sips on his wine while watching Swiss enthusiastically tell stories from his childhood. 
As they finish their food, Swiss gathers their plates and sets them to the side, mentally noting to take care of them later. 
“I have something special planned for dessert, follow me,” Swiss stands up, and offers a hand to Mountain. He takes him to the kitchen, and ties an apron around him. 
“I want to ask what we're doing, but you’re not gonna tell me.” 
“You know me so well, but fine, I’ll tell you. We’re making cinnamon rolls.”
Swiss had pre-measured out the flour, cinnamon, butter, and the rest of the ingredients and placed them on the counter. 
“Oh, by 'we're making them' you mean I'm making them?!”
“Yes, but don’t worry, I’ll help.”
Swiss dumps the flour on the counter, forming a well in the center. “First, you’re going to incorporate a few things into the flour. Here,” Swiss hands Mountain a few things and he dumps them into the well. “Now mix them up using the fork, then make the well again.” 
Mountain does as he’s told. Swiss works on mixing the wet ingredients for him. “I’m going to slowly mix this in. First use the fork,” Swiss pours a small amount of the wet ingredients, making sure everything is incorporated before adding more. “Great, now use your fingers. Make your hand into a claw and mix it in. As it gets stickier, start to knead.  It’s going to get pretty sticky, but keep kneading. I still need to add in some more flour.”
Swiss stands back, watching Mountain mix the ingredients so gently, “You’re going to have to be a little rougher baby,” he states after dumping in a few more cups of flour.
Mountain starts to get tired from kneading since he’s been going at it for a few minutes. 
“Swiss, this is hard. I’m getting tired,” he complains. 
 That's not the only thing that's hard, Swiss mumbles under his breath. 
Swiss stands behind him, slightly pushing his hips against Mountain’s back, and helps him knead. Mountain turns his head back, they stare into each other's eyes for a second, and lean in, lips meeting at a feverish pace. 
“Let me take over Mount.” Swiss mumbles into the kiss. He quickly finished kneading the dough while Mountain stands behind him, kissing his neck, hands roaming his body, leaving a trail of flour and dried dough on his clothes, especially his ass.
Swiss sets the bowl with the dough aside, Mountain takes this as an opportunity to grab him and press him against the counter. He leans into Swiss, his ass pressing against the counter, he towers over Swiss for a moment before kissing him with all his might.
Swiss’ arms immediately go to the back of the Mountain’s head, pressing him closer to his mouth, fingers playing with his hair. Swiss pulls on his hair to see what kind of reaction he would get, and he got the best reaction possible. A moan escaped Mountain’s lips as his head was pulled back, foreheads joining after Mountain lets out a whine from Swiss still pulling his hair back. Mountain wanted nothing more to get Swiss naked right then and there.
“Mount…” Swiss whispers, fearing that if he spoke any louder, the moment would be ruined. 
“I'm gonna kiss you again.” Mountain announces in the same quiet tone. 
Mountain goes for Swiss neck, inhaling his scent before lightly kissing him in that little patch near his ear. He wants to bite, he knows and recognizes what this attraction is but Swiss doesn’t. He can't jump the gun and do something that could probably destroy their souls. 
Without realizing, he shakes his head, shaking the thoughts away, Swiss is too high on the love right now to catch Mountain's head shake. Instead, he moans when Mountain begins to kiss down the front of his neck to his collarbones. Tracing the outline of those delicate, sensitive bones. Swiss throws his head back, opening himself more for Mountain. His hands still tangled in his hair, tugging lightly every now and then. He leaves a few hickeys on Swiss collarbones before returning to his lips. Swiss feels Mountain's fangs when he slides his tongue into his mouth, both of them fighting for dominance. Mountain’s hands are gripping Swiss hips so tightly there's bound to be bruising tomorrow.
They hear a distant beeping that’s becoming louder and louder, then they realize it was the timer letting them know the dough was done proofing. Swiss pushes Mountain away softly. 
“Give me a second, and then we can continue, we should get these into the oven,” Swiss pants. 
Mountain, panting equally as hard, nods, but he doesn’t let go of him. He holds Swiss by the waist, continuing to kiss his neck while he rolls out the dough and spreads the cinnamon sugar butter on the dough before rolling and cutting them.
Placing the rolls into the oven, Swiss turns and continues to make out with Mountain. Without clearing out the counter, Mountain hoists Swiss up to the counter. The slightly shorter ghoul now towering over him. His hands start to roam underneath Swiss’ shirt, claws scratching lightly into his skin, enough to leave a faint raised line.
“Mount… more,” is all Swiss is able to get out. Mountain unbuttons part of Swiss shirt to give him access to his torso where he licks his V-line, tempted to go below his belt, but he stops himself. Maybe the coffee shop is not the place to suck his soul out through his dick. 
The timer goes off again letting them know the cinnamon rolls were done baking.
Mountain looks up at Swiss’ face, pleading with his eyes to not get off the counter. Swiss laughs and hops off, heading straight to the oven. 
“Would you mind grabbing the frosting from the fridge?”
Mountain nods and hands it to Swiss, who smears it on the warm cinnamon rolls, melting the frosting. 
Mountain discreetly adjusts himself and fixes his clothes before sitting on the bar. He can’t help but stare at the reminder of what occurred just moments ago. Hair messy, lips swollen, cheeks stained red, his shirt unbuttoned and untucked, a few scattered small hickies, little red lines peeking through his opened shirt.  
Mountain swallows hard. He tries to contain himself and let Swiss finish setting up dessert. 
“A cinnamon roll for you, but before you eat it, I have a special drink I’d to make you”
Swiss brings out a jar with green powder, and a bamboo whisk. Pouring a little bit of hot water over the green powder he put in a mug and whisked it until slightly frothy. He goes to the steamer with some oat milk in a cup, steams it then pours it into the mug and pumps some flavoring into it. 
Mountain’s eyes follow him from one station to the next, until the drink is presented in front of him. 
“I present a matcha latte with oat milk and a hint of rose. Try it,” Swiss encourages. 
Mountain takes a sip and it's like tasting a garden. The rose flavor bring out the flavor of the matcha.
“Swiss, this is delicious. It's amazing. It’s comforting. It makes me feel all warm and safe. It tastes like… home, in a way.” 
“I call it the Mountain Special. I was hoping you'd like it.”
“I love it so much,” Mountain smiles so big. He lets out a moan as he bites into the warm roll, “so good.”
Swiss chuckles. Before him there’s a big ghoul with frosting dripping from the corners of his mouth. Using his thumb, Swiss cleans off the frosting before sucking it clean. 
“And I love you, Mountain.” 
-
After cleaning up the kitchen, Swiss walks Mountain back to his apartment, hoping to stay the night and finish what they started in the cafe.
“Thank you for the wonderful date, Swiss. I loved every moment of it. I adore you so much. Thank you.”
“It was my pleasure, Mounty.”
“Um, I know you probably want to stay, but I… uh kinda need time to process tonight, if that’s okay,” he explains, twisting his fingers, obviously nervous of some sort of negative reaction.
Swiss is unsure of what to say. “Yeah, no, yeah, that’s okay! I’ll call you tomorrow. Get some rest.” He leans in to give him a kiss, but Mountain turns, his lips landing on his cheek.
“Thanks. Have a goodnight, Swiss, get home safely.” Mountain enters his apartment leaving Swiss confused outside. 
Staring into the darkness of his apartment, he closes his eyes, leans his back against the door. 
“Fuck.” 
He exhales as tears roll down his face. 
Part 3, soon, sorry
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