#buttons landed on just a random pile of sticks that’s all!!!

[mintnanilla-extract]

hey everyone I’m back to say that I regret ever getting so emotionally invested in our flag means death because I don’t think I will ever feel true happiness again!!

#it didn’t happen right #tell me that was just a hallucination and that everyone lived happily ever after and it’s all okay #buttons landed on just a random pile of sticks that’s all!!! #I’m in denial #fuck #our flag means death #ofmd spoilers #ofmd s2 #Izzy hands

[ptergwen]

through the lens

w/c: 2.3k

warnings: swearing and mentions of blood (all fluff tho!)

summary: yours and peter’s date night doesn’t go as planned, thanks to his “little” accident and mj’s photography project

a/n: it’s been a minute but i’m back! for now lol i promise i’ll be way more active when exam season is over <3 this was based off the lovely pic above taken by the even lovelier zendaya and i hope you enjoy these… let’s call it random workings of my mind

-

“hang on, can you come closer?” mj instructs you, you promptly stepping towards her. “is this good?” “great,” she affirms and squints behind the camera. “smile really big on the count of three, okay? one, two, three!” doing as she says, you give mj your cheesiest grin with your eyes squeezed shut and all. she snickers while snapping the moment on her polaroid.

mj asked you to be her subject for a photography project. you’re happy to do it, although it’s super last minute. like, barging-into-your-room-and-begging-you-for-help last minute. she was supposed to turn this in days ago. lucky for mj, her teacher was feeling generous and gave her an extension.

you have to work fast because of mj’s deadline and your plans with peter. he’s coming over for a movie marathon and cuddles right about now. well, he’s actually running a tad bit late. that’s typical peter for you.

“just a couple more, and then you’re free,” mj informs you while shaking out the polaroid. “this is honestly pretty fun, you know.” you glance at the photo she’s holding with an eyebrow quirked in surprise. she captures you well. “what made you choose me?” “no one else was free on a saturday,” she snorts and tosses the picture in a pile with the rest.

your mouth falls agape. “i’m not free! peter’s gonna be here in…” you check the time on your phone, much to your dismay. “he’s a few minutes late, but still. i have things to do, too.” a smirk sets on mj’s face as she gets ready for the next photograph. “relax, y/n/n. i was kidding. i’m sure spider-dweeb will be here sooner than you know it.” sighing lightheartedly, you take a seat on your bed.

“don’t call him that,” you shake your head. mj throws her own head back to the ceiling. “ugh, but that was a good one,” she insists, you only humming. “it’s better than penis parker, at least.” “nah, i like the alliteration,” you laugh out and earn a giggle from mj. “you’re lucky parker doesn’t have super hearing, or does he?” winking, you hit a pose for mj. you’re looking at her over your shoulder with smolder eyes.

“ask him yourself, after you get this shot.”

the two of you continue messing around with her polaroid until the film is almost gone, and peter has yet to arrive. you’re starting to worry. you aren’t sure where he could be.

he doesn’t patrol on weekends unless it’s an emergency, and he would’ve told you if there was one already. he’s never this late without sending a text, either. it’s almost an hour past when date night should’ve started. on the other occasions peter has gone off the grid, they didn’t end well.

“i’m freaking out, em. do you think he’s in some kind of trouble?” you ask mj, pacing around your bedroom. she offers a sympathetic shrug. “maybe he just ate some bad yogurt. remember last time?” being the dummy he is, peter once scarfed down an entire tub of vanilla yogurt before he realized it was expired. no one heard from him for days. he didn’t show up to school or answer any calls.

may ended up inviting you over and explaining he’d gotten a stomach bug, which you then tended to him for the rest of. the story was so amusing, and so peter.

“may doesn’t buy him dairy anymore. why do you think he always raids your freezer?” you bring your fingers up to rub your temples. “the kid can empty ice cream cartons in one bite,” she agrees, silently cringing. her curiosity piques at the fact. “is that also a power?” “who cares?” you nearly shout, your fingers curling into fists. “what i wanna know is if peter is fucking okay.”

on cue, there’s a knock at your apartment door. you and mj exchange looks of urgency, both rushing out of your room to answer.

mj follows you through the hall and stands by your side while you fumble with the lock. when your door pulls open, ned has his hand raised to knock again. “ned? what are you doing here?” you don’t give him the chance to speak. “have you heard from peter? he was supposed to be here a while ago, but he never showed.” rather than answering in words, ned takes a step aside.

the sight you’re met with makes you gasp. peter peeks out from behind him, cuts and bruises littering his flushed face. he gives you a lopsided smile.

“you have your answer,” mj murmurs to you and eyes ned curiously. he lets out a nervous chuckle. “here he is.” you push past ned and practically jump into peter’s arms, your hug bone-crushing. “peter, oh my god! are you okay?” wincing, peter hugs you back by your waist. his chin rests carefully on your head.

“hey… i’m alright, baby. still pretty sore, though,” he sucks his lower lip between his teeth. you take the hint to loosen your grip on him. “i was worried something bad might’ve happened to you. i… i guess i was right.” your tone softens, you threading a hand in his curls. they’re completely disheveled from whatever went down with him.

ned heads inside to catch up with mj, the two of them letting you have a moment alone.

“someone’s got a spidey sense of their own, huh?” peter tries to lighten the mood by joking. it doesn’t work, a frown still evident on your face as you try to untangle his once soft locks. “baby, everything’s fine. i just… had a little accident is all. no big deal,” he reassures you and moves in to peck your lips. you’re so shocked that you dodge the kiss.

“little? your whole face is black and blue, pete!” you tug on the white collar of his button up, peter letting out a shaky breath. your other hand comes to rest on his cheek, touch gentle. “how’d you get like this?” he licks across his lips shyly and sets his hands on your hips. “see, on the way over there were these bad guys who-“

“no there weren’t,” ned cuts in, scoffing at the beginning of his friend’s story. peter shoots him a warning look over your head. “yes there were, ned. you weren’t even there!” he catches mj glaring at him before he continues. “don’t listen to him. anyway, i had to fight them because…” when he trails off, you stroke your thumb across his cheek, avoiding any wounds in the way. raising both eyebrows, mj speaks up.

“because why? go on, parker. i’m intrigued,” she encourages him. everyone can tell peter is lying except you. the question really is, what’s he lying about? he gulps down his spit, pulling your body against his for comfort. “take your time, peter. we can wait,” you say only for him to hear. his love filled eyes meet yours, and he nods. ned huffs at the dramatics unfolding before him.

“dude, you’re making this way worse than it actually is. just tell her!” he demands, mj cocking her head to the side. peter’s gaze flits between the two of them. “tell me what?” you wonder softly and tilt his chin, willing him to look at you again. “i… i…” peter’s shoulders slump, his voice lowering in defeat. “there weren’t any bad guys.”

“of course there weren’t,” ned confirms. “no shit,” mj adds. exhaling, you wait for your boyfriend to further elaborate. “what really happened, then? be honest, pete.” peter lets go of you so he can come into your apartment properly, you shutting the door behind him. he scratches the back of his neck as he fills you in. “ok. um, me and ned were hanging out.”

ned is attempting to stifle a laugh for some reason, which mj elbows him for. you take one of peter’s hands. “yeah?” “we were at my place, and… you know those really slippery steps on the sixth floor?” peter pauses for someone to answer, playing with your fingers. “the ones flash almost wiped out on once?” mj questions in amusement. he lets a quiet chuckle out. “good times. yeah, those.”

his gaze averts to the ground, you listening on. “so, i was walking ned out on my way over. we were talking about spidey stuff-“ “as per usual,” mj mumbles to herself. ned raises his hands in defense. “—and i told ned i could always stick my landings. he didn’t believe me.” you playfully roll your eyes, seeing where this is going. “so… i, uh, decided to show him,” peter finishes off.

“i did a, um, backflip. tripped and fell down the flight of stairs,” he finally admits to you, putting his other hand on top of your intertwined ones. “clearly, i was wrong.” his bloody face is now red from humiliation. “you didn’t trip, dude. you freaking summersaulted!” ned corrects him and bursts into laughter he’s been holding back. “idiots, both of you,” mj simply remarks.

“that’s it? why didn’t you just say that?” you almost laugh yourself. groaning, peter rests his forehead against yours. “because it’s embarrassing! i wanted you to think i’m a tough guy or whatever.” placing both hands on his cheeks this time, you nuzzle your nose against his. “you don’t have to be a tough guy to impress me, babes. you’re kind, smart, funny. makes up for you being such a klutz.”

peter cracks a grin, easily capturing your lips in the kiss he didn’t get to before. it doesn’t last long because mj gags and ned whistles at you. you’re both giggling when you pull apart, peter kissing the tip of your nose for good measure.

“you really mean that?” he checks, tucking back a strand of hair from your face. “of course. i have a thing for himbos,” you tease and poke at his bare chest. his eyes widen. “how about i get you some ice and you find our first movie?” you’re already off to the kitchen, beaming at peter. “date night’s still on?” he happily plops down on your couch, mj showing ned her pictures from earlier.

“as soon as those two get out of here,” you call loudly enough so ned and mj hear you. “yeah, yeah. we’re leaving,” mj deadpans, shoving the photos back into her portfolio. peter glances over at it curiously. “what’s that for?” “photography project,” she says and gets an idea. “i have some film left. y/n took up most of it… you losers want the rest?”

while mj coerces her way to a higher grade, you put some popcorn in the microwave for your movie marathon.

“well, i could use a new lockscreen. i’m in!” ned quickly concedes. him and mj both give peter hopeful looks. “i’m not!” he protests, squishing one of your pillows against his chest. “with my face looking like… this? forget about it.” mj walks over to him and places her portfolio on the coffee table. “what? those gashes are gnarly… in a good way, i mean,” she promises.

“painful, too,” peter murmurs. “y/n, hurry up with that ice!” mj demands, grabbing the polaroid camera from its string around her neck. you wave her off. “what i’m saying is, they’ll look sick in my portfolio.” mj forces a smile, ned looking at her weirdly. “uh, what’s the theme of your project again?” “freestyle, baby,” mj casually replies.

peter comes up with a condition that could persuade him. “if you say please, i might consider it,” he concludes, mj perking up. “please be in my project. pretty please?” she instantly requests, ned pursing his lips from behind her. peter rubs his chin. “y/n, what do you think? should i?” you pipe in from the kitchen. “yeah, so she’ll leave my house.”

“you heard the lady. i’ll do it,” peter gives in. all but squealing, mj gestures for ned to sit. “this’ll only take a few minutes. you guys are really saving my ass.” ned gets comfortable next to peter on the couch, who wants to see how far mj will really go. “aw, we are? i believe that calls for a…” ned catches on. “it comes after please…” mj picks up her camera with gritted teeth. “thank you, morons. say cheese!”

that’s the only warning peter and ned get before they’re blinded with the flash. ned does a toothy grin as he leans into peter’s side. peter musters up the best smile he can, hair a mess and cuts burning pink on his face. satisfied, mj snatches the photograph as it pops out.

“pleasure doing business with you two,” she states, you joining the three of them in the living room. you set the popcorn on the table and give peter his ice pack. he presses it to his cheek, kissing the back of your hand. “send me that!” ned reminds mj, helping himself to your bowl of popcorn. she salutes him.

“there’s my star. what do you say, y/n? wanna take one more really quick?” mj suggests, already holding up her polaroid. you take the other cushion next to peter, your head on his shoulder. “can peter be in it with me? since he’s in the modeling mood tonight.” he wraps an arm tightly around you. “let’s do it, sweetness.”

eagerly jumping in front of you two, mj crouches down to get a better angle. “on the count of three. one, two, three!” the camera clicks, and you surprise peter by laying a smooch on one of his cheeks. he’s holding the ice against his other, genuinely smiling for this picture. ned coos at you, mj showing off her work when it dries.

“how adorable,” she says sarcastically but means it. peter nods at her in appreciation, his lips brushing the side of your head. “what can i say, you’re a pro,” you compliment mj. “come on, em!” ned cheers through a mouthful of popcorn.

tonight was an unexpected and exciting mess, even if your date night did get crashed.

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker smut #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

He Was a Sk8r Boi

Happiest of Birthdays and best wishes to one of my most beloved and darling friends on this earth, the fantastical @hailhailsatan ! May your sass never cease.

modern au - college student Jaskier - the Kaer Morons are all skater punks

tw: mild injury (scraped arm)

---

Jaskier took a seat on what remained of a crumbling stone bench and pulled his black-and-white composition notebook onto his lap, opening it to the closest blank page. He tugged his favorite pen out from its place of honor behind his ear and waited for inspiration to strike.

And waited.

And waited.

After half an hour of staring into space and getting absolutely nothing written, the frustrated college student stood from his seat and jammed his headphones into his ears. If nature wasn’t going to help finish this stupid poetry assignment then maybe he could find a person or two to observe for inspiration instead. Glancing around the otherwise empty benches and pathways of the public park, Jaskier sighed and shook his head. “Fuck this, I’ll try the other side.”

He pulled his MP3 player out from the pocket of his light autumn jacket and painstakingly scrolled through every song available until finally giving up and pressing the “Shuffle” button. As a heavy, angry guitar riff began to filter through his headphones and lighten the load of the world from his shoulders, Jaskier found himself approaching a half-hearted attempt at a skatepark.

There was one cement half-pipe to his left and a few rails and quarter-pipes scattered around the vicinity, bolted into the ground in a seemingly random pattern. Several oddly shaped cement bowls were sunk into the earth, obviously made to work like ramps but with a larger and less predictable surface area.

There were only three skaters enjoying the park on this particularly grey afternoon, zipping back and forth from one piece of equipment to the next like emo hummingbirds. Jaskier took out his headphones again as he made his way to a nearby bench - wood this time - and casually sat himself down. The skater dudes were yelling back and forth to each other as they swanned over and around the equipment on their boards, mostly insults from what the student could hear.

The loudest of the three had springy orange hair that he wore pulled back into a small, messy half-bun at the top of his head. The rest fell down against the back of his neck in an equally messy sheet, reaching nearly all the way to his shoulders but not quite touching them. He was wearing a bright red t-shirt with a catchphrase that Jaskier couldn’t read and plain denim jeans.

“What the fuck are you doing, Eskel?” he laughed, pointing to the tallest of the group and pulling a face.

“Shut up, Bert,” the brunette shouted back at the redhead, doing a quick kick-flip over the far end of a metal railing. “You can’t skate for shit.”

“I’m better than you!”

The third member of their little gang was the quietest so far and, in Jaskier’s personal opinion, also the prettiest. He had a mass of long white hair that fell all the way to the bottom of his shoulder blades, pointed and stiff in a way that meant it had been straightened and sprayed into submission. The silvery strands were being held out of the stranger’s eyes by a baggy black beanie and Jaskier desperately wanted to know whether or not that hair color was natural (though he heavily suspected that it was not).

The white-haired guy was also the most talented of the three gathered skaters, flying from one end of the half-pipe to the other and landing a few flips in between as if risking his life was as simple as breathing. He wore no knee pads over his ripped black skinny jeans and no elbow pads either; Jaskier noted with a little zing through his nervous system that the skater’s arms were muscled like a Greek statue’s and equally pale.

He was fucking hot.

“Geralt, do a three-sixty!” the redhead jeered, chucking something at the pretty one.

“I can’t land one yet and you know it,” the white-haired guy, Geralt apparently, replied. His voice was low and sonorous and Jaskier nearly fell off his bench in surprise. The student hadn’t realized how far forward he had been leaning in order to listen to their conversation and he scooted back again with a self-conscious little blush. In the distance, Geralt continued. “Why don’t you get up here and try it yourself, asshole?”

“I just fucking might, White Wolf,” Lambert huffed, turning his board back toward the half-pipe and picking up speed. The dark-haired one, Eskel, caught Jaskier’s eye from across the park; the student blushed an even darker shade of red and looked down at his lap to avoid any sort of confrontation. If any of these guys wanted to start a fight with him, Jaskier would surely lose.

By the time the anxious student worked up the nerve to look at them again, Lambert had already climbed to the top of the half-pipe and taken a defensive stance. His eyebrows were furrowed and his arms were crossed over his chest in a projection of almost childish anger. As Geralt came up the cement incline, Lambert lashed out with his foot and kicked the other man’s board out from beneath his feet.

Eskel gave a wordless cry of alarm.

Geralt wavered in the air for a moment - cartoonishly, Jaskier thought, almost like Wile E. Coyote - before plunging to the pavement and rolling limply down the inside of the half-pipe. Eskel chucked a rock at the redhead and started screaming, “Fuck off, dude! You could have cracked his fucking skull! You could have killed Geralt, you absolute cock-toboggan!”

“Fuck! Shit, I didn't-,” Lambert fell on his butt and slid down the ramp to Geralt’s side, kneeling over him with concern written all over his face. “Are you alright, man!?”

Jaskier couldn’t hear if Geralt replied or not, but he suddenly remembered the first-aid kit sitting right there in his bag. Jaskier was a total klutz and tried to keep a handful of bandages and a tube of disinfectant on him at all times just in case he ever needed them. Thank goodness they would be able to come in handy, and for a far nobler purpose than patching up yet another one of his table-smacked knees.

Without thinking any further ahead, Jaskier grabbed the strap of his bag and took off running towards the site of the accident.

“Hey!” he shouted, coming to a stop a few feet away. “I have - uh, I have a first-aid kit if you want to use it.”

“Cool, thanks,” Eskel said, glancing over his shoulder with a curt nod. “Come on over, we don’t bite. Well, I don’t.”

“Dude, I’m so sorry,” Lambert apologized to Geralt once again. When Jaskier glanced over at him, the redhead looked legitimately upset and guilty. Geralt looked up at the newcomer from the pavement, his silver hair spread out around him in mimicry of a halo - the black beanie was lying a few feet away, forgotten or ignored.

Up close like this, the stranger stole the breath out of Jaskier’s very lungs. The man's eyes… His fucking eyes were a gorgeous molten gold in the late afternoon sun, sparking and shining like gemstones. Holding Geralt’s gaze made Jaskier feel as if his very soul was catching fire.

“Do you need a band-aid?” Jaskier asked rather stupidly, holding out the little cardboard box. Geralt nodded stoically.

“I think I scraped my arm.”

“Let me help,” Jaskier said. The student knelt beside Geralt and set the box of band-aids down. He flung open the kit and retrieved some ‘pain-free’ disinfectant, then returned to the box of bandages in search of one without a Disney princess on it. “Do you guys always do this without wearing any protective gear?”

“I’ve got a helmet,” Geralt said. He pointed towards three mismatched backpacks piled near the edge of the pavement; a bright red helmet with several semi-familiar logos stuck to it sat atop one of them.

“It’s very useful over there, keeping your backpack from cracking its skull open,” Jaskier chastised lightly, trying to keep his nerves in check. He was feeling oddly protective of a guy he’d never even met before and it was very fucking weird.

“Sorry,” Geralt shrugged. He was still laying on his back, his topaz eyes flickering between Jaskier’s hands and face. The student applied a thin layer of medical cream to the shallow scrape with shaking fingers and then wiped the remaining goo on his shirt, uncaring of the damage it may have done. He bandaged the minor wound quickly and leaned back, glancing between Lambert and Eskel as if just noticing their presence on either side of Geralt's head.

“Thanks,” Eskel grinned, holding out his hand. “I’m Eskel.”

“Jaskier,” Jaskier replied shyly. “And the loud one is Lambert, right?”

Geralt chuckled from his place on the ground and Jaskier’s heart seized painfully in his chest. What a laugh, ye gods. “Yeah, that’s Lambert. I’m Geralt.”

“Nice to meet you, Geralt,” Jaskier could practically taste the name as it melted across his tongue. “Well, not the nicest way to meet you, but I’m glad I met you all the same. Anyway.”

He stood up with a little grimace and took a step back.

“Where are you going?” Eskel asked. “You came to Geralt’s rescue so I think that means he owes you like, at least an ice cream, or something.”

“Yeah,” Lambert piped up. He smirked at the man on the ground and then turned back to Jaskier, mischief clear in his expression, “Let him take you to get an ice cream.”

“I’m lactose intolerant,” Jaskier squeaked. Then he realized he’d sounded rude and held up his hands as if offering surrender (surrender for what, he wasn't exactly sure), “Not that I wouldn’t like to hang out with you more but I’ve got an assignment due and I’m sure you’re very busy doing skater things and I-”

“Am I not good enough for you?” Geralt asked, finally sitting up. He straightened his arms out behind him and rested there, reclined comfortable, a god in his temple.

Jaskier shot the older man a half-annoyed look, beating back his anxiety with a stick. “I listen to Avril Lavigne. I know not to underestimate pretty skater punks.”

“Pretty?” Geralt raised his eyebrows. Jaskier hid his face behind his hands and turned on his heel.

“Anyway, nice meeting you!” Jaskier shouted, hoping they could hear even if he was facing the opposite direction. He took off toward the edge of the park at a brisk walk, verging on a jog. He needed to go hide behind a tree and cry. What the fuck!? He was terrible at flirting and now he’d gone and ruined his chances with the guy he’d… literally just met. Chill out, he told himself - just before a strong hand clamped down over his shoulder and stopped him in his tracks.

“So not ice cream,” Geralt said. Jaskier slowly turned back to face the mostly-stranger. His lip was caught fast between his teeth and Geralt lifted one large hand to gently thumb it free again. “Maybe a boarding lesson, instead? It would give me an excuse to put my hands around your waist and you could put yours on my shoulders.”

“Are you asking me on a date?” Jaskier asked. He fluttered his eyelashes and took half a step into Geralt's space.

The broad-shouldered punk smiled down at the Little Mermaid band-aid on his arm and then turned that smile to Jaskier. “Yeah.”

#he was a sk8r boi #anyway happy birthday hailie #geraskier #geraskier ficlet #geraskier fluff #bouncey's endless getting together fics #modern au #skater punk geralt #skateboarder geralt #student jaskier #JUST KISS

[keiluvsu]

— snowman , t. amajiki x reader.

៚ · ☃️ pairings; tamaki amajiki x gn!reader.

៚ · ☃️ genre; fluff.

៚ · ☃️ prompt; reader forcing tamaki to build a snowman with them.

៚ · ☃️ a/n; this should not have taken me all day to finish, but here we are.

“i want you to know that i’m never leaving, ‘cause i’m mrs. snow, ‘til death we’ll be freezing.”

“hey tama,” you walked into the room, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend. “huh— oh, hey y/n.” he smiled, turning his head around to face you. “what are you watching?” you asked, looking at the tv in front of him.

he shifted a bit on the couch, looking forward again. “some cheesy christmas movie,” he sighed. “something wrong?” he looked back at you. “yeah...we’re not goofing around outside in the snow right now.” you unraveled your arms from around him, standing up and crossing your arms.

“it’s cold!” he whined, pulling a cover over him, which you immediately pulled off. “i don’t care!” you whined back, mocking him. “i’m bored and i want to build a snowman with you— and make snow angels with you.” you smiled sheepishly at your childish behavior.

“c...can’t we just cuddle under the fireplace and watch these cheesy movies together?” he looked up at you, his ears tinted a light pink. “i mean, yeah we can do that...but i’d much rather go outside in the snow.” you replied, walking around the couch to pull him up.

“no.”

“yes.”

“no.”

“ye-”

“no, y/n-”

“yes, tama.”

“y/n- y/n?? NO-”

you successfully pulled him up, making him whine. “but..y/nnnnn!” he dragged out your name as you pulled him to the bedroom. “stop whining you big baby and get dressed.” you mumbled, quickly putting on your clothes.

as soon as you stepped outside, you shivered. “whew, it’s really freezing out here.” you watched as a puff of cool air left your lips. you ran over to a huge pile of snow, curiosity taking over your figure. “there’s so much snow...just in this one pla- AH-!” you jumped in place rapidly as you felt a chunk of snow fall on your head.

“fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck FUCK!” you shimmied, trying to get the snow out your underclothes. “w-what? oh my god! y/n?! what happened?!” tamaki almost tripped while running over to you. he slapped his hand over his mouth, trying not to laugh when he saw you trying to shake the snow off of you.

“tama- ITS NOT FUNNY!” you fumed, going to chase him. “HEY!” his eyes widened, running away. “GET BACK HERE DAMMIT!” you went to grab him when he fell over, you falling on top of him.

“OOF!” he landed on the floor with a thud, quickly wrapping his arms around you to protect from the impact. “woah- woah! are you okay?!” you sat up, patting your boyfriends body.

“the snow protected me...” he breathed out, closing his eyes. “and you protected me,” you smirked, pecking his lips. “now get up. we have a snowman to build.” you pulled him up, holding his chest so he doesn’t fall.”

“it’s really cold.” he shivered, holding your hand. “yeah, and you look cute y’know.” you smiled at him. “w-what?” he averted his eyes from you, a mix of pink and red dusting over his cheeks. “you look cute.” you poked his cheek, letting his hand go.

he frowned from the loss of contact but followed you regardless. “okay, you start with the body and i’ll get the accessories.” you patted his shoulders, walking away to find a stick, carrots and some buttons.

he nodded and you heard him shiver and sigh. you walked in the house and stomped your boots on the floor, shaking the snow off. you quickly ran to the living room and bent down, picking up the lighter from the table. you relit the fireplace and stood back up, walking into the kitchen.

you took out a carrot from the fridge and outside of the window, you see tamaki building the torso. you smile to yourself and walk into the bedroom, going over to the drawer. you pulled out the sewing kit and a took out the box of buttons.

you went back outside and tamaki turned his head, smiling at you. “finally. now you can help me build this damn thing.” he laughed and you playfully rolled your eyes. you set down the buttons and carrot, and helped tamaki lift up the torso.

“while you were gone, i got the sticks so you don’t have to worry about that.” he told you, shaking the snow off his gloves once you finished placing the torso. “aw, thanks.” you laughed, leaving multiple kisses on his face.

“s-stop...let’s just finish the snowman.” he blushed deeply, helping you make the head.

“i love it!” you smiled, gushing over the snowman in front of you guys. “y/n...it’s not done yet.” tamaki blinked at the snowman. “oh yeah! i don’t know how i forgot!” you ran over next to the snowman, picking up the carrot.

you stuck it right in the middle of it’s face and picked up the button’s. tamaki smiled, watching you get all excited over a snowman. he loved seeing you happy.

“okay! and we’re done!” you grunted, standing up. you ran over to tamaki and laced his hand in yours, admiring the snowman.

“it’s so pretty!” you shook tamaki by leaning side to side. “not as pretty as you.” he nudged you back, blushing. your eyes widened and you felt yourself getting flustered.

“i—ahem— so...oh! wait!” you took off your scarf and hat, putting it on the snowman. “now, we’re done.” you stood proudly, admiring your work. “you did good, baby. now can we go back inside? we’re both gonna freeze our butt’s off out here.” tamaki shivered once again.

“yeah, yeah, you’re right.” you sighed, grabbing your boyfriends hand once again, dragging him in the house. you both took off your shoes and your coats. “i need to go change, i’ll be back!” you looked back at tamaki as you ran to the bathroom.

“okay, whew- it’s really warm in here. i’m glad i relit the fireplace.” you rubbed your arms, walking out with socks, sweatpants, and a sweater. “me too, now come cuddle me please.” he made grabby hands at you.

you couldn’t help but laugh and dive into his arms, smooching his face almost a thousand times. “s-stop!! oh my god...” he blushed deeply, looking away. “haha, sorry.” you kissed him once more, laying your head on his chest.

“that was...kinda fun. besides the freezing cold.” he traced random lines across your back. “yeah,” you laughed. “i’m glad we did this today.” you yawned, feeling sleepy. “me too. now get some sleep, baby.” he smiled to himself, feeling your chest heave up and down on his.

#tamaki x reader #tamaki amajiki #bnha #anime #my hero academia #fanfic #anime fanfic #tamaki fluff #amajiki x you #bnha amajiki #tamaki amajiki x reader #gn!reader #boku no academia #AHHHHH

[painless-innit-colourful]

‘Weeping Headstones - Prologue’

The beginning of a Doctor Who AU I’ll never finish: Tommy and Tubbo are all set to hang out and go stargazing when- Well, they never can get a bit of peace, can they? Feat. some suspicious statues in the shape of Weeping Angels...

It promises to be a beautiful starry night. That’s what Foolish apparently told Tubbo earlier that day as he hung around Snowchester. Tommy doesn’t know how he knows that or how far he trusts it to be true, but if he’s right, he’s glad Tubbo’ll be here to spend it with him. It’s been a good week or so since they’ve had the chance to go stargazing; between bad weather, Tubbo’s responsibilities in Snowchester, Tommy’s new hotel project and yesterday’s nuke test, they’ve both been rather busy lately.

Just the thought of it makes him clear his throat on reflex, and it brings a smile to his lips. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t have radiation poisoning. Like, eighty percent. Okay, maybe he should’ve been more careful, but since he and Tubbo emerged from Dream’s creepy-ass vault with their lives Tommy’s been feeling rather indestructible. Not to bring Hamilton back into it, but he couldn’t seem to die. Besides, they had medicine, he hadn’t been accidentally hit by a nuke, and Dream was in the prison. Nothing could possibly pose him any threat right now.

As if to immediately prove him wrong, there’s a sharp ‘TWANG’ from only a few feet behind him, accompanied by a sharp whistle of air. Tommy’s reflexes from fighting a dozen wars and never knowing who to trust kick in, and he sinks down on the bench as an arrow sails through the empty space where his head just was. He has no armour and only a random sword on him: on the other hand, it’s just a skeleton. He draws his sword, dropping to one knee using the bench as a shield. The skeleton stands on the path outside his house, nocking another arrow on its bow. Tommy takes advantage of that brief moment, vaulting the side of the bench to run at the skeleton. He lands one hit on the wretched thing’s shoulder when he hears a familiar hiss from behind him to the right. He lets out a cry of surprise and swings in a wide arc, striking the creeper that had also snuck up on him and sending it back a couple metres or so. He scrambles back in the direction of L’Manberg, watching as the creeper shuffles forward and the skeleton fires a lazy shot to the side of it.

“You okay?” Tubbo sticks his head out of Tommy’s doorway, obviously alerted by Tommy’s surprised squeaking. “Nothing I can’t handle.” He says quickly, darting forward and delivering a second strike to the creeper, sending it reeling back again. Tubbo appears to disregard his statement, levelling a loaded crossbow at the skeleton and pinging a bolt off its skull. It makes a dull thudding sound and leaves a sizable dent. Tubbo reloads again, but the skeleton shoots first. Tommy doesn’t even need to dodge, as the arrow sticks in the creeper with a sound like someone stepping on a stick of TNT - don’t ask how he knows what that sounds like. There’s another hollow thud as Tubbo cracks another bolt off the skeleton’s body, and the magic holding its bones together disintegrates along with its form.

“We can call that one a team effort.” Tubbo shoots him a wink and goes to retreat back inside when he’s stopped by a small gasp from Tommy. He turns back, “What is it?” The blonde boy is sifting delicately through the pile of ash left by the creeper, revealing a round of black shellac like a palaeontologist uncovering a precious fossil. Neither boy can suppress the grin that forms. “Which is it?” Tubbo asks, and Tommy lifts up the disc to show the red centre. “Blocks again.” He leans back and gets to his feet. “You want it?”

“Sure.” Tommy passes it to Tubbo with a gentleness reserved only for discs and injured friends, and Tubbo gives him a genuine smile as he goes to put it in his ender chest. As he carefully puts it away, a warm feeling spreads through him. Contentment. He keeps an ear out for any more Tommy mishaps.

The boy in question is currently messing with the jukebox, resetting Cat since it had stopped playing since his encounter with the skeleton-creeper duo. The familiar synth melody begins to play, and Tommy’s about to recline back on his bench when he hears a series of small crashing noises, like someone’s dropped a frying pan down a flight of stairs. Furthermore, the noise came from the opposite direction to his house. He looks in the direction of the downtown SMP but sees nothing- No, wait.

Sticking just above the footpath is the top of a head. Someone’s crouched on the Prime Path stairs up to his house, and they’re watching him. Tommy maintains eye contact while getting up, going for a staring contest to psyche them out, whoever they are; he hasn’t figured that part out yet. They’ve got grey hair and a very stony gaze that turns his stomach over, but apart from that, he can’t make out anything since their body is out of his sightline. He makes his way over, head whirling with thoughts. Is this the apparently infamous Addison Rae??

Tubbo’s communicator buzzes unexpectedly. He yanks the microphone down to his mouth with two fingers, hands full of cr*p from Tommy’s chests. “Tubbooooo…” From the sound of Tommy’s voice, he’s making a regretful face and has just done something stupid. “On a scale of one to started a war, how bad is it?” A loud sigh is transmitted through the headphones in regrettably crisp quality. “Different scale. This is like that time I mistook a scarecrow for an attractive woman.” Tubbo sniggers. “What happened?”

“I feel like a foolish man, Tubbo.” “What did you do?” “I thought someone was watching me from the stairs, right? But it’s just this creepy-ass statue.” He plows through Tubbo’s giggles, kicking the statue with his foot in irritation. Part of its arm goes with it. “I’m being trolled with an oversized garden gnome.” “Weird. What’s it look like?” “It’s- It kinda looks like it belongs in a graveyard actually. It’s an angel, but its hands are on the stairs and everything, like it crawled up here to get me.” “Ah yes, angels. The most terrifying of monsters.” “I’m gonna ask Foolish if there’s a family relation-” “Oh god don’t-” “Or if I can kick it off the stairs like the other one. There’s a broken one down there.” He relayed, peering down at a pile of grey limbs and ash on the ground far below.

“I say pay it no mind. I’m nearly done.” Tubbo passes on, dumping an armful of saplings into a corner of the appropriate chest, inventively named ‘nature sh*t’. “How long does it take to find drugs in my chests? If it’s that hard, we have a serious problem, and not just with your eyesight.” Tommy complains, putting on a show of frustrated gestures to no one as he makes his way back to the bench. He flops down, ignoring the acute feeling of being watched sourcing from the statue on the stairs. “Tommy, looking in your chests is like trying to find the button in Pogtopia.” The blonde boy sits up straight, his back cracking in several places. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Tommy can hear the smile in Tubbo’s voice the next time he speaks. “Lot of stuff that looks about right, but none of it actually does what you want it to.”

Tubbo hears the beginning of a reply masked with an undignified splutter, and he’s about to shoot something back first when the scream rips the sarky comment out of his mouth. He sprints up Tommy’s stairs and throws himself out the door, crossbow levelled… But there’s nothing there. Also, there’s no Tommy.

Panic starts to rise. He scours the immediate area, peering over the edge of the hill, along the path towards the hotel, all the way to the stairs down to L’Manberg, checking the houses opposite Tommy’s and down the stairs where Tommy said the angel statue was. And while there’s a broken pile of stone far below as he described… Whatever Tommy saw on the stairs is gone. 

There’s no time to worry about that.  “Tommy!”  His thoughts race. What could’ve happened?  The wind starts to pick up, and it brings a whirring sound only just obscured by the dying strains of Cat.  “Tommy?! C’mon man, this isn’t funny!”  It can’t have been a mob, there was nothing there. There’s no one else in the area; even so, Tubbo loads his crossbow and keeps it handy. He hasn’t been killed: there’s no blood and no body.

Could Dream have escaped the prison?

The thought sends a chill through him, rivalled only by a frigid Snowchester morning. Tommy hasn’t told him, properly, about his exile yet. There’s still a lot of leftover feelings involved for both of them. Even so, it’s plain to see: Dream hurt Tommy in ways neither of them had dealt with before: ways they should never have to deal with. If Dream were to get out of Pandora’s Vault and then go for Tommy before anyone could warn them…

Tubbo has his phone out and is halfway through typing Sam’s number when a small noise behind him causes his danger sense to start blaring like a nuclear siren. He turns, standing near Tommy’s door again, just in time to see a figure pass overheard, leaping from the roof of Tommy’s house and landing ahead of him. The figure makes a beeline for the bench, or more accurately the jukebox, and Tubbo watches dumbfounded as the figure lifts Cat from where it’s playing with practised ease and places it into their coat. The mystery thief is facing the wrong way for Tubbo to see their face, but he does take note of the pink hair tied back in a small ponytail, the ruby-red, fur-lined cloak and the sturdy boots leaving tread marks in the grass before they hop over the edge of the hill. He runs forward to perhaps get a shot in as they escape, only to be met with an empty landscape and the beginnings of a very pretty sunset.

He drops his phone to his side, jaw slack and nerves shaking. Someone’s trolling him and Tommy by moving an angel statue around. Then Tommy suddenly vanishes with a scream. And the icing on the absolute disaster cake: a possibly very powerful enemy’s just made off with one of the discs.

“Oh, f*ck me.”

#do you know how long i've had this sitting in my google drive #since February #and it's june now!! (i keep forgetting how far through the year we are) #anyway i lost motivation for this but why not show off what i have? #who knows #maybe one day... #dream smp #crim writes #tommyinnit #tubbo #clingy duo #dsmp fic

[mirkysconcubinefiction]

You Know

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Reader (****), Bucky

Summary: What Steve walked into was a catacomb of missed chances, squandered love, utter betrayal, and regret plastered on the walls. Poster sized prints weren't taped to the walls, oh no, **** glued reprints of him fucking another woman on whatever space she could manage.

Tags: Angst, Cheating, Broken Engagement, Drunk Texting/Video, attempt at Humor

AO3: Mirkys_Concubine

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

You didn't need or want a boyfriend... Or girlfriend for that matter.

One minute you were fine and dandy wiping down a table and the next your tray whizzed through the air and smacked a perv in the head.

And again.

And again.

And again.

If someone gropes your ass the logical reaction would be murder. At least that's what your mama had taught you.

Kill them like the roach they were.

Maybe that's when he saw you more than a random part time human he interacted with? He had swooped in, plucked the tray out of your hand, and broke it in half over the guys head.

Of course you politely said thank you before landing a solid kick into the perv. Not the face. If there weren't cameras you'd have stomped on his head.

Twice.

The way your mama had taught you.

That was then.

Before routine.

When he had to stalk you for a date in his goofy bashful self. When his best friend would get a kick of the 'old Steve' that was a mess around girls. When he had... no... there was no sense in getting nalstagic.

While you didn't want a boyfriend you never expected to get married. Steve's friends had been more excited than you, magazines and samples had taken over the small breakfast nook in the corner of the kitchen. You lit them on fire on the roof in one of the communal pits and lounged with takeout and wine. It's where you sat and made the decision to leave.

You couldn't stay.

God what would your mother say if she had been alive? She'd be disappointed in you.

The ring was rose gold, shaped like an octagon, and while pretty you had been afraid you'd lose it. Tempting as it was to flush it down the toilet you left it in the freezer atop a bag of sweet corn.

You packed your clothes - the ones you had purchased - into one luggage, another luggage was your shoes and intimates, and your carry on bag was large enough for your toiletries and kindle.

The car you purchased - with cash and registered under an alias - had enough space in the trunk for the luggage. The lovely security guard had helped you - bless him - and then you drove off. You refused to look back and you refused to shed another tear.

Well planned and as thought out as one could get considering their ex was an avenger with questionable access to the interwebs. You waited until the Avengers were on a mission.

A friend of a friend helped with your makeup and prosthetics to make you look like an elderly man, and you had enough cash on you to fund a bank. No paper trails, no cell phones beyond a simple Nokia that had no internet access, and once you made it outside state lines and to a safe house you'll disappear.

Again.

No more chances at romance.

All men were the same.

Even all american test tube super hero's weren't immune to cheating and lying.

✖

Home.

It used to be warm, smelled of dessert, savory meals, music played in the background, **** off tune voice singing along, there was a garden scattered throughout the condo, fruit always filled a basket, and more importantly **** was there to make him feel human.

Less lonely.

Alive.

Loved.

Cherished.

That was home. One he worked hard to obtain.

What Steve walked into was a catacomb of missed chances, squandered love, utter betrayal, and regret plastered on the walls. Poster sized prints weren't taped to the walls, oh no, **** glued reprints of him fucking another woman on whatever space she could manage.

The glossy original prints hung from the ceiling right over their bed like a weird still mobile. With that thought Steve remembered the birth control pills and hoped she would never catch on as to how insane he really was over her.

The doorbell rang.

Had it been anyone else, Steve wouldn't have opened the door but instinct fueled his hand and trust didn't make him flinch as a fist hit him in the face and he was down. Dropped on his ass in his own home with an incensed soldier grabbing him by his shirt and tossing him like a rag doll before shutting the door and locking it.

✖

The island held an empty fruit basket and a ring. A frozen mockery of a promise he remembered in great detail from months ago. Bucky had found it as he had been gracious enough to offer a bag of frozen peas only to find a bag of sweet corn and a ring.

Steve wanted to cry.

He wanted to get angry.

He wanted to call Tony for a favor but he could do nothing but sit on a stool his fiancee, future wife, future mother to his children, now 'ex', had picked out.

Only Bucky would probably kill him if he so much as sniffled.

The bag of sweet corn smacked him across the face none too gently and Steve winced. The other stool creaked as the crack and hiss of a Fanta soda being opened. Yet another check against him, **** made a point to stock the fridge with his and Bucky's favorites.

"Hope she was worth it."

"Buck..."

"Blond, green eyes, fake tits, didn't know desperate was your type."

Steve shut both eyes and slouched, "It was a mistake."

Bucky's brows lifted, soda can midway to his lips. "Fucking her for two months is now a mistake?"

"Look... I tried to stop it. Every time we met it just... Happened." It was stupid and in a way so true. He had tried stopping but some how they always end up fucking and every time he promised himself it was the last.

"Bullshit!" The can bent as it was slammed onto the counter. "You don't commit to marriage and then run off to fuck some floozie from legal!"

"I'm sorry!" Steve snapped, "I know I fucked up! It's on all the fucking walls!" Which was true. Even the fridge door had a blown picture of his face between slender legs and the freezer door a blown up shot of his cock being sucked. "I need to find her, apologise, and fix this." Bucky snorted, "I can fix this."

"**** has more respect for herself than you do of her."

"I love her." He did. Steve loved **** more than he'd love Peggy.

"You don't love a woman like **** and then fuck a bitch behind her back."

"It was a mistake." Steve grit out, irritated.

"Two months isn't a mistake. That's a fucking affair. Litteraly. You fucked like rabbits."

Steve stared, a frown tugging at his lips. "How do you know?"

Bucky stood and went for another soda only to stare at the woman splayed out for the world to see, "She is hot. Better looking than ****. It would've hurt more if you'd downgraded."

"**** is perfect!" Steve spat, throwing the bag of mushy corn where it burst as it hit a well.

"Look at her though." Bucky tapped on the breasts, "Nipples are spaced perfectly, more than a handfull, kudos to her surgeon."

"Kudos? When do you say kudos?"

"Must be on a low carb keto diet or those green smoothies, and even her belly button is worth cumming over."

Steve stared. Horrified. What was going on?

"And look at her skill!" A metal knuckle tapped at where the womana nose pressed against Steve's pubes. "Porn quality. The type of girl you want to teach you some shit."

"You know where she is." It wasn't a question. Bucky didn't talk like that. The man was a storm of swears, stares, and threats. Not... this. "Where is she?"

"Wish I knew so I could tell you to fuck off."

"She couldn't have gone far if she met with you, I might have time..."

"I haven't spoken to **** and i don't expect to hear from her again actually." Bucky ignored his friend's glare as he rummaged through the fridge for another soda and snagged a bag of cookies because only **** would hoard cookies in a refrigerator. "She left her phone in my apartment and instructions to watch her video."

"What?"

Bucky pulled out **** phone tucked on the inside of his jacket and tossed it to the other man. He returned to his seat, opened his soda, and munched on his cookies.

The phone wasn't password activated and a quick search proved most of the personal stuff like pictures and apps were deleted except for a single video.

Hey Tiny.

**** personal nickname for Bucky who had lost a bet but secretly was amused by it. The phone shook as **** had nearly dropped it with a swear. She looked as if she had been crying and she was chugging from a bottle of plum wine. Her favorite wine.

Just wanted to say i will miss you and i love you. Like, really, really love you. I'd give you my kidney sorta love.

She giggled and sipped at her bottle, eye's roaming the room. Tears slipped from her eyes and Steve felt his own burn. **** was a mess. She used a sleeve to wipe at her nose and her smile was shaky.

I redecorated, Steve will love it.

The camera flipped and **** showed off the wallpaper of porn. The condo looked trashed and luggage was open on the living room floor half packed and takeout piled on the coffee table.

I figure since he loved to fuck random pussy he'd like this theme. I call it *Whore of Narcissism*

The camera swivels and zooms into a familiar picture of the woman laid out and the hand holding the bottle points at the woman.

Not her. She not a whore Tiny. Ok!

The camera swivels to another portrait of Steve's face.

He's a cunt faced whore.

The camera switches and **** is giggling again.

Shhh. Look what I did. Put it it on the fridge door, that's where I keep the fish sticks.

Bucky snorts and Steve barely refrains from giving the man the finger.

See. Cunt whore faced.

**** giggles

Don't tell him but he can't eat pussy. He can't, he misses the clit. Like how do you miss this?

The phone tilts and Steve swears as she's wearing practically nothing. It wasn't her sexy underwear but the shear laced thong left little to be hidden.

It's right there, see it pokes out a bit too.

**** bumps her pussy with the bottom of edge of the wine bottle.

How can he miss it?

"It gets better." Bucky happily munches on a cookie.

"Fuck you."

Look. Just look.

There's a thunk as the bottle was set down and **** shoves aside her underwear and it was a crooked close up of her manicured pussy.

How is this not buffet worthy? My pussy tastes like sin yet he treats it like a McD's drive through. My pussy is not a Big Mac! It's MSG!

The phone jerks up back to her face and she's angry.

Chinese buffet MSG quality. My pussy is it's own zodiac sign ok!

Bucky's shoulders are shaking and Steve is mortified.

Maybe he likes her sauce though?

The camera points to his head between the girls legs.

He never spends forever with me but with her... I got so many pictures of her and he is just there. I have a buffet he can eat from and he chooses this...

Her hand smacks on a breast.

She's hot Bucky. Look at her. She's fucking perfect and her tits are fucking perfect. You see them? Nipples spaced perfectly, bigger than his hands, kuddos to whoever worked on her, she's a fucking art piece, I wanna know her surgeon, I want tits like hers.

The camera shifts and **** holds the camera up at an angle downward as she unhooks her bra with one hand and slips one arm out while it dangles from the other and she's touching herself.

See one's smaller.

"Did you..." Steve couldn't get it out as he watched his fiance complain about her breasts on camera to his best friend. Brother.

"Fuck her?" Bucky crushes his empty soda can, "I'm not you. If I had that in my bed I wouldn't get complaints about my mouth."

... at least she's hot you know. If he's going to fuck another bitch at least she's beautiful. I'd die if he downgraded you know. He fucked her in the office you know. Her office. She's beautiful and educated and I'm a mess.

The wine bottle was back in her hands and she took a long swallow uncaring that she was half naked.

I'm sorry Tiny. Bucky. I'm... This... I should delete this one but my battery is gonna die so fuck it. I'm leaving. When you see Steve punch him. I can't be there when he gets back. I'll kill him.

She sipped her wine and her brows furrow.

She has to be on some low carb keto diet... I don't think I can drink those green smoothies but I would have. I could look like a porn star! I can look plastic too!

Her eyes go wide before she blinks and frowns.

I can get wigs and wear those waist thingy's and change names... We could have role played. I would have called him daddy or - or - dirty stuff. I could have been his whore you know. I'm not a basic bitch Tiny. If she were my friend she'd teach me to not choke!

**** shakes her head and takes another swig.

I want to hate her but she... Bucky she was crying. He lied to her, for two months he lied to her, and she brought me ice cream Bucky. I couldn't hit her. She got me chocolate.

Her eyes narrowed and the sadness was swept away.

I want to hurt him. Rip his heart out through his ass and shove it down his throat! I planned it too, killing him. Got explosives... was gonna put a trigger thing on it and boom. Take out the whole floor.

**** makes a boom noise before flopping on the couch atop folded clothes, her wine bottle gone from her hands.

Neighbors got a kid downstairs and... Kids... No kids.

She rubs her face, tears leaving tracks and her breadth hitches and she's doing her best to not break down.

I was right. I told you there's no such thing as happily ever after. I told you they're all the same. I'm...

Her breath hitches and she's staring into the lens. Broken.

I'm not perfect Bucky, I'm not her but I loved him. I believed him. You said... Said he was good and I be-believed you cuz I trusted you and I want... Wanted... I deserve to be loved. I am good enough... I'm good... Right? Bucky... Why... Why am I not good enough? what did I do wrong? I... I... I'm sorry.

The phone tumbles and the screen goes dark but Steve can't hold back his own tears as he hears her sob before it cuts off completely.

What had he done?

How did he fix this?

Can he fix this?

End...

Part 2 of 1/2

#fanfiction #fanfic #avengers #mirkysconcubinefiction #dark steve rogers #dark steve x reader #marvel #bucky #cheating #affair #broken engagement

[kpopmalereader]

impulses ; ten

• summary: ten finds out you have several tattoos and piercings • pairing: ten x male!reader • word count: 1232 • to do

A chill wind whips one of the corners of your picnic blanket up and Ten rearranges the weights you brought out. The trees above you are just beginning to grow their leaves back and dandelions are already sprouting out around you. You pick out a few pieces of grass and sprinkle them onto the back of Ten’s head. He turns to you mid-sprinkle, a few green pieces landing on his ear and cheek. Your smile is sheepish and shy, and you blow the remaining grass off your hand.

“Sorry,”

“No, you’re not.” He smiles and shakes his head, only getting rid of about half. He flips onto his back and closes his eyes. “I think I want to get another piercing.”

You lean back on your hands. “What kind of piercing?”

His eyebrows pull down. “I don’t know, something impulsive.”

“I know a guy at the tattoo shop in town. Might give you a discount. They have a bin where you pick out a piece of paper and whatever is on it you get tattooed. I picked one already, but I might get another.”

Ten shoots up, his face pale and a mix between frightened and confused. He enunciates every word with extra care. “You have a tattoo?”

You laugh and nod slowly. “I have a few. I’ve had them for a while now.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I would hope I do considering I paid for them.”

“Show me. Where are they? What are they? Why didn’t I know?”

You shrug your shoulders and look around. You pull your shirt up, a couple of your tattoos arranged across your chest. “I guess it’s never come up, you’ve never seen me with my shirt off?”

“I guess not! We’ve been dating for like a month and you never said anything about it?” He rolls his eyes and turns his body towards you.

He runs his hands over the ink with a very concentrated expression. He pushes your shirt up further and further.

“Like what you see?”

“They’re pretty.” He nods his head. “Are these it?”

You shake your head. “I have a couple more on my back.”

“Why do you hide them?”

“Work, judgment.” You shrug your shoulders and smile at him. “I have a few piercings too. I had like every possible ear piercing, but they’re mostly closed now. And,” You reach into your nose slightly and pull out your septum piercing.

Ten gawks at you for a few seconds before pulling at his hair. “How did I not know this? You were hot before, but this means I’m going to have to start physically pulling people away from you.”

You raise your eyebrow at him. “Oh really? Tell me more.”

“Which one was the choose-your-tattoo?”

You reach over and point at one on your ribcage. “Not my favorite but it’s still pretty nice.”

“They’re all very nice. I like them.” He smiles and pulls your shirt down. “Now let’s hide them before someone gets the wrong idea.”

“Thank you.” You lean over and kiss him once.

“Can I get my nose pierced?”

“Do I have a say in that?”

“That was mostly just me asking if you can take me to get my nose pierced.”

You nod your head and stand up. “Sure.”

He claps his hands and starts stuffing everything in the bag. “I like you agreeing with my impulsive actions.”

“If you don’t like it you can take it out.” You pick the grass clippings out of his hair with a smile.

*

You step into the tattoo shop, bell ringing above the door. Ten stays halfway behind you as you walk in, examining the pictures and drawings lining the walls.

“Hey,” You wave and the receptionist waves back, phone between her ear and elbow as she types.

One of the artists steps out of their room and sticks a pencil behind his ear. “Hey, Y/N? Back again?”

“Well, probably not.” You point your thumb behind you. “He wants to get a piercing. You’re the best place in town.”

“My client also just moved their appointment, so, what kind are you thinking?”

Ten turns to the picture on the wall detailing placements and squints slightly. “I think I want a nose piercing. Septum?”

The artist nods. “I can do that.”

“Copycat,” You mention. You follow him to the room, looking at the drawings on the wall.

“While I’m doing this,” The artist starts, smirking in your direction. “Do you want to go ask a random stranger to pick your next tattoo?”

“It wasn’t a stranger, I’m not that stupid.”

Ten sits in the chair. “What’s he talking about?”

You shake your head and sit in one of the extra seats. “Nothing.”

“Y/N here lost two bets. The first one was okay, just a belly-button piercing-”

“You have a belly-button piercing?” Ten interrupts.

You correct him. “Had. Had.”

“Then, Y/N thought there’s no way I’m going to lose twice, and they decided to raise the stakes. Whoever wins gets to choose the tattoo and placement on the loser. Y/N lost.”

“I lost the second one and won the third, so we both have stupid tattoos in stupid places. I said not visible when wearing a t-shirt and pants.”

“What did you get?”

You lean back in your chair. “A large sun wearing sunglasses.”

“Now every time he changes clothes and looks down at his thigh, smiling sunglass sun.” The artist laughs as he gets his supplies ready.

Ten snorts and begins to laugh, very badly pretending not to be. “Can I choose your next one?”

“If it’s a small one I can finish it today.”

“I feel like I’m being ganged up on.” You shrug your shoulders. “You can pick one for me, I will trust your ideas completely.”

Ten thinks it over as the guy pulls gloves on. “How much does a septum piercing hurt?”

You begin to flip through the binder of designs next to you. “To me, it was about the same as an ear piercing.”

“If you feel like you need to sneeze, tell me.” The tattoo artist grabs the needle and hums. “Would you like a countdown or do you want to just do it.”

“Is it a fake-out countdown?” Ten asks, eyes closing.

You stand and join his side. “I felt better with the surprise. Focus on me and he can do it randomly.”

“Deal,” Ten holds his hand out and you loop your fingers together.

You squeeze his hand and look around. “If you get to pick out a tattoo for me, what kind are you thinking? Something stupid or something serious?”

“I want to do something you’ll like.” Ten rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. “I’ll have to look at-”

The artist sticks the needle through and Ten gasps, gripping your hand harder for a second or two. “Almost done.” He puts the jewelry in and nods. “And you’re good.”

Ten breathes out and opens his eyes. “That was not as painful as I thought it was going to be. I was worried you were playing it down.”

“I’m not going to tell you it’s easy and not painful if it’s going to hurt like hell.” You lift his chin up and nod. “Looks nice.”

“So, about that tattoo?” Your artist leans back in his chair and drops a pile of designs in Ten’s lap. “What are we thinking?”

#nct #wayv #kpop #kpop scenarios #nct x reader #wayv x reader #male reader #nct imagine #nct scenario #wayv imagine #wayv scenario #ten #kpop male reader #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #nct male reader #wayv male reader #ten x reader #ten x male reader #ten x male!reader

[falseroar]

Dog Days Part 14: A Welcome Distraction

((Abe takes to the streets in search of the Host, but instead he finds a different kind of performer. Back at his office, he finds a new, seemingly unrelated case waiting for him.

Here are links to the previous part and to the whole series.))

Abe chose to walk to the coffee shop, hoping the walk would help clear his head after a long night and that conversation with Google. That, and he wanted the extra time to take a different route, to see if he was still being followed or not. Problem was, he forgot that weekends were a thing, and it seemed like half the city was out shopping and enjoying the warmer than usual fall weather. He checked faces at every crosswalk, doubled back and looked over his shoulder whenever he had an excuse to do so, but if he was supposed to recognize any of those faces, he didn’t.

Instead, the walk just gave him more time to think about what he wanted to say to the Host once he got his hands on him, and a few creative things he’d like to do to…pretty much everyone who had a hand in getting him involved in this case. All this time spent watching a doctor, and he could have been using it to find out more about the Colonel’s new alias—if he even really was going by a ridiculous name like Wilford Warfstache these days.

The bench in front of the coffee shop was taken by a pair of ladies happily chatting, and a quick search up and down the street found no sign of the Host. There was another street performer there though, who had set up a small booth set up to look like a stage and curtains that could just barely fit one person inside. A burst of laughter came from the crowd gathered in front of the temporary stage, with a few kids sitting so close that they had to look up to what a sign pinned to the top of the stage proclaimed to be “Jameson Jackson’s Jolly Jaunts.” Jackson, probably, was pantomiming alongside a pair of puppets, shock on his face as the cloth detective puppet accused him of stealing a diamond while the other, a cutout of the most stereotypical burglar you could image on a stick, proclaimed that he knew it all along.

As Abe watched, Jackson appealed to the audience and an increasing number of puppets for help, the bit going on until the detective puppet slapped him on the back of the head and he coughed up a shiny rock to the puppets’ shocked silence before they all piled on him, dragging him out of view to the audience’s cheers and laughter.

Cute, but not the reason Abe stuck around after a “The End” card was drawn up on a string, and the puppeteer and a few of his favorites appeared to wave goodbye to the kids before they ran off. A few minutes after the crowd dispersed, the hunter watched Jackson step out of the back of the little popup stage, two shoebox-sized boxes tucked under one arm.

“Need some help cleaning up?” Abe asked as the puppeteer set the boxes down on top of the booth and stretched, visibly glad to be out of the confined space.

Jackson dropped his arms mid-stretch and pointed at his throat, drawing a line across it with his finger before shrugging.

“Oh, you can’t—” Abe paused. “But your show, I heard…”

Jackson smiled and opened one of the smaller boxes, tilting it to reveal multiple identical devices. He tapped a button on the one labeled “Diamond Heist”, causing the puppet detective’s voice to ask, “But what about the cookies?!”

“That’s…actually pretty clever,” Abe said, causing the puppeteer to smile. Especially considering he recalled at least one of the puppets directly responding to something one of the kids called out.

Jackson started to sign before catching himself and pulling a small notepad and pen out of one of his waistcoat pockets. There he wrote, “Thank you, my friends were kind enough to supply the recordings for me. And a few other tricks, to keep it interesting.”

He winked, and only grinned wider when Abe said, “Guess I don’t need to bother with complimenting your ventriloquism skills then. Do you do a lot of street shows like this?”

“Different places, but yes. Mostly on the weekends, more often during the summer for the kids. I’ve done a thing or two in more traditional venues, but that’s more for the older crowd.” Jackson shrugged again once Abe was done reading, as if to say one place was as good as the other.

Abe nodded before asking the question he had been leading up to, “I ran into a guy the other day who apparently sings on the corner around here sometimes, but I’m having a hard time finding him again. Called himself the Host, had bandages around his eyes. You haven’t you seen him around, have you?”

Jackson tapped his chin with the end of his pen before writing, “Can’t say that I have, but I try to avoid performing in an area when I see someone else is already there. Don’t want to be rude!”

The puppeteer hesitated before adding, “I know a few places that tend to be popular with street artists. Why are you looking for this Host fellow?”

“I know the owner of that coffee shop over there, Carla. He was coming around here a lot for a while there and suddenly stopped, and she’s just a little worried so I thought I’d check on him,” Abe lied. Last he checked, Carla wasn’t worried at all, probably because she was used to customers like Abe disappearing for days or even months at a time before showing up again like nothing happened at all. At least, he assumed he wasn’t the only one who did that. Either way, wasn’t like he was about to explain the real reason to some random guy on the street. “Do you mind helping me out?”

Jackson pulled a fancy-looking silver pocket watch out of his other waistcoat pocket, opening an intricately carved cover to check the time before writing his response.

“Looks like my friend is running a little late. If you were serious about helping me pack up, I can give you a few ideas.”

Easy enough, and between the two of them the stage was soon a folded bundle that, while a few feet long, the puppeteer could at least manage to carry by himself, although add in the boxes of recording devices and puppets and it all seemed like a bit much.

“You sure you can manage all of this?” Abe asked as he tucked the list Jackson gave him into his pocket for later. Not that he was about to volunteer to lug all this stuff anywhere, especially considering he hadn’t taken the car today, but he did feel a twinge of guilt at leaving the hipster puppeteer to fend for himself.

Jackson nodded and started to write before he was distracted by a text notification. He took out a basic-looking phone that he probably only used for the text function, considering how he fumbled with it before smiling at the message.

“He’s on his way! Thank you for the help,” he wrote for Abe’s sake.

The hunter tried not to look too relieved, which became a lot easier when for the second time today he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and the clear, sneaking sensation that he was being watched.

Jackson stared as he looked around, Abe’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the people walking by, the busy shops, before landing on a figure standing too still in the narrow, shared drive between the nearby laundromat and florist’s shop for deliveries. A figure who disappeared as soon as the hunter glanced his way, leaving a vague impression of someone wearing red.

“Good,” Abe said, barely listening to what he was saying. “Uh, thanks for the list, I should…get on that now, for Carla.”

Jackson nodded and waved as he walked away, looking bemused and a little concerned for the hunter. Almost as soon as the hunter disappeared around the corner, the puppeteer jumped at the sudden presence of the man standing next to him.

“Don’t do that!” Jameson signed.

“Sorry,” Jackie said out of reflex, not that it ever stopped him from doing it. He was staring at where he last saw the hunter, the corner of his mouth turning down in a grimace. “Who was that guy?”

“Not sure,” Jameson said. “He was asking about another street performer, a singer, I think. Said someone was worried about him.”

“Just that?” Jackie asked, and Jameson shrugged. “…Okay. Let me know if you see him around again, maybe I can help him find what he’s looking for.”

Jameson paused, wondering if he was reading too much into Jackie’s expression and tone of voice, but the vigilante shook his head and picked up the folded stage.

“We should get back,” Jackie said. “I left Chase trying to convince Y/N to wear their collar and go for a walk.”

“Oh, that would be nice!” Jameson signed. “I certainly don’t want to miss that.”

“Great, then you can be the one to tell them about the leash law,” Jackie said, waiting for Jameson to pick up the rest of his materials before motioning for him to lead the way.

Behind Jameson, Jackie shot one more look at where he lost sight of the hunter. He’d have to ask Jameson a few more questions about what, exactly, the hunter had said, and maybe encourage him to set up his act somewhere on the other side of the city for a while. Better to have to get a ride from Chase than to risk running into that man again.

---

Red.

He was sure of it, the person watching him had been wearing red. He hadn’t been able to make out anything else in that split second, but did he really need to?

Google. That thing was watching him, had to be. Probably whatever magic kept him running also made it easier for him to get around without being noticed, or maybe it was a special feature whoever he was working for had added on.

The longer Abe thought about it, the surer he was, until by the time he returned to his office he was furious enough to punch the tin can man, consequences be damned. The fact that his walk around half the city failed to turn up the Host or seemingly anyone else who knew the guy, and he was not in the mood to find someone waiting outside of his office again.

A fact the young woman who looked up and saw him coming seemed well aware of, as the second she saw him she stopped leaning against the office door and rubbed the back of her neck with a heavily-tattooed arm.

“Sorry, think I’ve got the wrong place,” she muttered, already stepping aside to go around him.

Abe sighed and said, “Well, if you were looking for someone who knows what he’s doing, I think you might be right about that. Still willing to give it a shot, if you need help with something.”

She hesitated, giving him time to look her up and down. Short dark hair, young enough to be in her late teens or early twenties if he had to guess. Despite the cold weather, she was wearing a sleeveless top over her ripped jeans, which showed off the full spread of her tattoo sleeves. The ink on her dark skin was dominated by images of waves and schools of fish, to the point the sleeves would have looked just as at home on the arms of a sailor.

“I was told you could help with…finding something of mine,” she said, unable to completely hide her doubt.

“You know I’m a hunter, right? I don’t usually look for things.” Someone sent her here? Carla, maybe, he had asked her to keep an eye out for any potential cases, but of course his luck meant she would she show up now.

“I know, I wouldn’t be here at all if—” she stopped herself and took a breath. “I don’t have a lot of time, and I can’t go to anyone else because…It’s complicated.”

“I get that a lot,” Abe muttered. As much as he didn’t want to, he already knew where this was going. “We can talk about it in my office.”

She nodded, and it wasn’t until after he unlocked the door that Abe thought to say, “Right, sorry about the mess.”

“I’ve seen worse,” she said, not even blinking an eye at the state he’d left the place in this morning. Still, she waited until Abe sat behind his desk before she slowly sat down in the opposite chair, her arms pulled in tight around her. “Like I said, I need help getting back something—something very important to me. I know who has it, but I’m afraid if I try to get it back myself, he’ll…”

She swallowed, hard, and not for the first time Abe thought maybe he should try to keep tissues around here. Then again, she looked closer to being sick than actually crying.

“You know this guy?” Abe asked.

“I thought he was a friend, he thought we were something else,” she answered. “Still does. This is just a stunt to keep me from leaving, or maybe he’s just being vindictive, but either way I can’t risk getting it myself.”

“And this thing he stole would be…?” Abe asked. Kind of an important part of this, after all.

She swallowed again and hesitated, eyes searching him as though trying to find some clue whether she could tell him or not.

Abe returned the stare, before his eyes drifted back to the tattoos on her arm. Loves the ocean, a guy steals something so personal from her that she can barely speak of it, can’t take it to the police…and suddenly it became a story he’d heard too many times before, usually after it was too late to do anything about it.

“Your sealskin?” he asked, and her expression answered for her. A selkie, a seal who could remove their skin and pass for human. Without that skin, she couldn’t change back. “Let me guess, you’re not registered with the city.”

She shook her head. “Couldn’t afford it, and the job at the bar, they don’t really like…my kind. Not human...Are you going to report me?”

Report her, and by the time she was done dealing with the aftermath, wannabe boyfriend would have had enough time to hide the skin or sell it on the black market to the highest bidder, if he didn’t just shred it out of spite.

“Where’s he live?” Abe asked.

Meri, that was her name, was surprised when the hunter returned under an hour later. It helped that the guy lived only a ten-minute drive away, and Abe was lucky enough to find him at home and willing to share where he had hidden the skin, or at least he was after Abe may or may have taken the opportunity to work out some pent-up aggression.

If she noticed the hunter’s split knuckles, Meri immediately forgot them the second she saw the smooth, dark pelt he held up. Her eyes watered as she smiled for the first time since she got here, and Abe rocked back on his feet as she tackled him in a hug.

“Oh my god, thank you thank you thank you,” she said, repeating the words over and over again as she pressed her sealskin to her chest, and now she really was crying and Abe really, really needed to invest in a box of tissues.

“He’s going to report you, you know,” Abe said.

“I know,” she said. No matter how he went about getting the skin, they both knew that’s what the outcome of getting it back would be. A guy like that didn’t just stop, even if Abe left him with a few things to consider. “I was already planning on leaving the city, I just couldn’t go without this. I know someone who can help me get through the watch on the harbor, and from there…”

“Well, good luck with that, and here’s hoping you never have to see me again,” Abe said.

She smiled, and for a second Abe was afraid she might hug him again. Despite her size, that last hug had threatened to crack his spine. Instead, she settled for another round of thanks before walking out of his office, leaving him to sigh and hunt down some ice for his knuckles.

If only all of his cases were so easy to take care of, Abe thought to himself as he glanced at the clock. Looked like he had just enough time to get a nap in before nightfall, when he’d take a drive around a certain neighborhood. Spotting the doctor leaving his home or returning in the morning seemed like too much to hope for, but at least it would make a change from staring at the door to the clinic all night.

Both would be a little more bearable too, after that little reminder that he could at least get something right every now and then.

((End of Part 14. Thanks again for reading! Sorry that I haven’t been responding to the comments--it’s really, really hard not to spoil stuff! I have seen them though and it sounds like a longer part is okay, so that’s what I’ll do for tomorrow. Can’t wait for you all to see where that one goes. :)

Edit: And here’s the link to Part 15: Going for a Walk.

Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist @avispate @missksketch @autumnrambles @authorracheljoy @liafoxyfox ))

#markiplier #jacksepticeye #fanfiction #detective abe #monster hunter au #jameson jackson #jackieboy man #mistaken identity #hipster puppeteer is not a phrase i ever thought i would use #abe really needed a win

[nsheetee]

6 Shots of Tequila

Pairing: Doyoung x Reader

Genre: College AU | Crack, with some Fluff

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: implied female reader, lots of alcohol, doie throws up, some swearing

Summary: After Doyoung attempts to impress you by downing 6 shots of tequila, he throws up on your skirt. And confesses his feelings for you right after.

doyoung is not a party person

never in his 3 years of college has he ever stepped foot into a party, or even thought about going to one

and now, on his 4th and final year, he doesn’t want to go to a party just to spite his friends and keep his streak going

but when he hears that you are going to his friends’ first party of the school year, he thinks again

he honestly hates the way he’s a fool for you, and he’s sure you don’t even realize it

doyoung has gone through (almost) his whole college career without catching feelings for someone

but the minute you walked into the class we has TA-ing last semester, he was caught by cupid, an arrow forced through his heart

it doesn’t help that you're in the same major as him

he constantly sees you in with his other friends that are studying in the same classes

you frequently ask him about the best classes to take in your future years

there isn’t a day that doyoung doesn’t interact you

and he loves hates it

so, like a lovestruck clown, doyoung sits on his bed in his underwear and socks facing his open closet, wondering what in the hell college students wear to parties that are held on wednesday nights

why is the party on a wednesday night??

don’t these kids have class tomorrow morning???

doyoung decides to screw it and picks a random button up shirt, tucking it into some pants he found, and buttoning every button

he walks into the party, the stares of his friends who are standing around the kitchen island are almost worth dressing up and coming here

“do my eyes deceive me or is that our doyoung?”

“alright, who paid you to come here?”

“no, what possessed you and made you come here?”

doyoung rolls his eyes at the various over reactions of jaehyun, jungwoo, and haechan, meeting them at the island and awkwardly looking over the copious amount of alcohol cluttered before him

“I thought I might as well try this party thing once before graduation.”

“seriously. what possessed you? do we need to have a quick exorcism before other people get here? I know this guy-”

“haechan.” doyoung warns him, and he leans away with his arms up in surrender 

the party kicks into full gear in a matter of minutes, the music in the living room turning up to the max, people showing up and taking back shots as if their lives depend on it

jaehyun made doyoung a drink a while ago, but it only took doyoung one sip to realize he doesn’t like it

“sorry...” he whispers to a house plant, pouring the rest of his drink over its soil after being blocked out of the kitchen and too afraid to go to the bathroom

“doyoung?” he hears a voice over the loud music, almost knocking over the plant and dropping his plastic cup at the same time

he turns around to see you smiling at him, his heart doing he stupid “du-du du-du” thing over and over again

doyoung thinks he might choke on his own breath as he notices you’re wearing a skirt, not something he usually sees you in around campus 

it takes his whole might to not stare at your legs

get a grip doyoung! you’re not even drunk, yet you’re acting like a major fool already

“h-hey” he curses his stutter and then straightens out his back, noticing the clear cup in your hands, signifying that there is no alcohol in it, “you’re not drinking?”

it’s not the greatest conversation starter, but doyoung is curious as to why you’re drinking water at a party like this

“yeah, I don’t drink. I came with my friend to make sure she doesn’t do something stupid that she’ll regret in the morning.” you explain, shrugging

your small act of kindness makes doyoung’s heart melt, and he mentally cringes at himself

before he can think of what to say next, haechan appears next to you both

“what are you two doing all alone over here? come to the kitchen, jungwoo is about to do shots!” haechan drags you by the arm through the kitchen door, effectively pulling doyoung with him without even touching him

in the kitchen, jungwoo has 6 shots of alcohol in front of him, winwin (a friend of doyoung who is also in his major) has a phone out with the stopwatch displayed on the screen

doyoung’s body moves by itself, placing him between you and haechan and effectively breaking haechan’s hold on you

he doesn’t think either of you noticed his actions, and he could hit himself for acting like one of those jealous freshman he sees around campus

winwin counts down and jungwoo takes back the 6 shots in 19 seconds, the crowd cheering for him as he sets the last shot glass upside down 

“that’s the new record everyone!” the students in the kitchen go crazy and ruffle a drunk jungwoo’s hair, slapping him on the back for his amazing drinking skills

“wow,” you call out next to doyoung, “he’s gonna have a headache tomorrow, but that was weirdly impressive.” you mindlessly comment to doyoung

but doyoung is thinking

thinking hard

“is there anyone who wants to challenge that time?”

“me.”

okay, maybe doyoung isn’t thinking at all

half of the crowd’s jaws drop when doyoung steps forwards (including yours) and the other half laughs, thinking it’s just one of doyoung’s dry jokes

“really?” winwin asks hesitantly 

“yeah, how hard could it be?”

doyoung feels confident one moment, but when 6 new shots are poured out in front of him and more bodies pile into the kitchen to see the infamous stick stiff doyoung take back 6 shots in less than 19 seconds...

he doesn’t feel super confident anymore

“hey,” you appear at his side, “you don’t have to do this. you can back out now.” there’s worry in your voice and concern in your eyes, but doyoung doesn’t want to back down

if this drinking competition is a way to impress you, then he’ll do it

no matter how stupid it is

“it’s okay. I got this.” doyoung voice is surprisingly smooth, until your hand lands on his bicep to give him a supportive squeeze 

he almost melts into your touch, getting one last bit of energy to pull him through the next few minutes

doyoung rolls up his sleeves and unbuttons the top few buttons of his shirt

then, the crowd counts down, and the timer starts

doyoung takes shot after shot, the cheers of everyone in front of him drowning out everything else

his throat is soar after the first shot but he keeps going, almost like a machine, drinking all of the alcohol in front of him

you’re absolutely stunned by doyoung

never in a million years did you think he would do something like this

you have to admit...

...it’s kinda hot

the way his forearms flex with every kick back of a shot and how his silver chains underneath his shirt tease his chest

you grow a little dizzy from watching him

doyoung lands the last shot glass upside down on the countertop, winwin stops the timer and laughs before letting everyone know doyoung’s time

“17 seconds”

the crowd goes absolutely mad, the small kitchen becoming engulfed with students of all ages cheering for doyoung

he holds himself up against the counter, and unlike the rest of the people in the kitchen who pay no more attention on doyoung, you notice his swaying figure and bowed head

grabbing his arm and pulling him out of the stuffy kitchen, you find your way to the balcony, opening the sliding door and closing it behind you

no one else is here, and the fresh night air hits doyoung across the face like a pillow, alarming but harmless

he breaths deeply, now leaning over the balcony, eyes closed and hair ruffled by the wind

you rub circles onto his back, a reflex from when you take care of your friend while she’s puking up her guts after parties, and wait a few minutes while doyoung catches his bearings

he stands up as straight as he can, wobbling on his legs as he attempts to look at you

“you’re so pretty.” he slurs out of nowhere, and you’re immediately taken back, heat rushing to your face at the unexpected compliment, “seriously pretty. do you know how long I’ve been wanting to tell you that?”

“t-thank you, are you feeling better now? I can always tell when someone is about to-” suddenly, doyoung hiccups and you take a step back

unfortunately, stepping back does nothing to shield yourself from doyoung’s throw up

most of the contents from his stomach end up on the balcony floor, but some land on your skirt as you hold onto him to keep him from falling over

your eyes screw shut as doyoung leans over, resting his hands on his knees, seriously winded

“c-can I tell you something?” he asks, seemingly unbothered by how he just threw up on you

“what is it?” you squeak out, trying to keep doyoung talking so he doesn’t pass out, since you know from experience that that’s what usually happens after throwing up

“I like you, like, a lot. you make me a fool for you, I just took 6 shots of tequila because I thought you might be impressed. I think I might do anything for you if you ask me too.” your heart starts thrumming in your chest at the confession, you try to hide the smile coming to your face as you open your eyes

doyoung is bent at your height, eyes glossy and half-lidded, lips dry from consuming all the dehydrating alcohol 

“I know I’m severely drunk right now, but I’m being 100% serious. I really like you.” you laugh at him, at how he still hasn’t realized he just threw up on you, and take a moment to feel the giddiness in your stomach and the stutter of your heart at his words

“let’s get you home, and tomorrow morning we can talk more about us? yeah?”

“wait. us? d-does that mean you like me, too?”

“depends if I can wash your throw up out of this skirt. it’s my favorite.”

----------

doyoung wakes up, barely, to a pounding in his head

he thinks it’s the construction outside that’s causing it

but he instantly remembers all the alcohol he consumed in a short time last night

he sighs

this is the worst part of drinking

he tries to rack his memories for what happened after the drinking challenge, but nothing comes to mind, and he wonders how he got home

a dip in his bed startles him and he opens his eyes, squinting against the bright sunlight coming into his room

but he’s still able to see you sitting next to him, the button up he was wearing yesterday over your frame, and the now very obvious indent in his bed of someone sleeping next to him last night

“morning. here, take this. it’ll make your headache go away.”

doyoung jaw is unhinged and you can’t help but giggle at his confused state

how in the hell was doyoung only just thinking and hoping of spending mornings like this with you less than 24 hours ago, and know you’re here

with him

in his bed 

in his clothes

doyoung doesn’t know what he did last night for this to happen

but he sure as hell doesn’t regret it

(yet)

#doyoung #doyoung fluff #nct crack #nct imagines #doyoung imagines #nct doyoung #nct 127 doyoung #kim doyoung #nct fluff #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 crack #doyoung scenarios #doyoung au #nct scenarios #nct au #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 au #doyoung x reader #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

That Be Some Good Buttercream

Summary- Steve and Bucky get your help in replicating a howling commando days battle using Christmas baking fun. But... Does anything ever quite work out the way it should? Set in the same characters I used in Night In, Looking Pretty Fly and Popping Pez and Mismatched Socks. Written for @official-and-unstable-satan​ 300 Follower Celebration Challenge. She still has many prompts, check it out. Prompts in italiacs. No warnings, all fluffy. 

Word Count- 1.6k

A/N- so proud of your accomplishments babes, you are an amazing writer and I love getting lost in your stories and listening to your ideas. I know your just gonna keep going up from here. Love you always babygirl 💚😈💚😈💚😈💚

“Bucky, they came around from the south end” 

“No they did not. I remember Steve, I was there.”

“Yea, and so was I” 

You and Sam had been listening to the two super soldiers carry on at the oversized table in the compounds kitchen dining area for a good hour before you readjusted the volume on the tv once more. Sam, half laying over half the couch remained scrolling on his phone, remarking. 

“Aint gonna do you no good, they just get louder.”

You sigh and hit the off button, he was right. Might as well go see what these two were up to anyways. Pushing yourself off the couch, Sam promptly stretched his legs out onto where you were sitting, making himself comfterable. “See you on the other side Kid!” He joked, settling into watching youtube. 

Wandering in, you saw the two men bent over  large map, Steve with pencil in hand drawing arrows to discern where they started from, stretching it across what looked like a military base. Bucky shook his head. 

“No no no, Punk, I wasnt up there, I was down here” 

“Bucky, I had you up on the highest point, it just looks weird on paper.” 

“You know what, this is pointless.” You could see Bucky getting aggitated with there project, pushing himself away from the table. “We need like... a 3D model to get this right.” 

Steve to straightened up, his arms folding as he looked down at the heavily marked paper. “Well... Tony does have some...” You interrupt in this time, moving over to the table and taking a peek at what they were doing. 

“You know, I have an idea of how to make you two a 3D model.” Both the men quirked brows, curious as to what you had in mind. "Givingerbread reanatcment.” 

You expected a rebuttal, a laugh, anything, since you were joking. But the two of them actually looked thoughtful, glancing at each other. “It would be easier then trying to draw it out” Steve mentioned. “And easier then trying to get Tony to set up the AI model for us.” 

“Plus we get some fucking cookies... Im in.” Bucky grinned, obviously pleased in the options of snacks. What started as a joke from you became a very serious matter as the two Soldiers dragged you into the kitchen. The two of them looking at you expectedly. 

“I was just joking guys, Im not making you a hydra replica gingerbread base. You know how much shit that would take.” At this point you backtracking a bit, wishing the words hadnt fallen out of your mouth so damn easily cause you thought is was funny. 

“Nonsense, you wont be doing all of it. Were going to help.” Steves already moving to wash his hands as Bucky is digging through a drawer and slipping on a god damn “Kiss the Cook” apron, he found in a drawer, ties it swiftly around his back and rolls up his sleeves. 

“You know you always wanted to boss us around Doll.” Bucky smirks, wiggling brows in a teasing manner. “You finally get your chance.” 

You look between the two men, the two of them nodding in encouragement, Steve composed as ever, waiting for You to explain how to start, and Bucky well he was opening drawers, pulling out random stuff that he thought you might use. He held up a spatula with a smirk, slapping the utinsel against his palm. “How about we get this train moving kids.” 

Relenting, you turn to your phone for a recipe. “Okay fine, since you all insist. We need flour, sugar, eggs, ginger, cinnamon....” While your listing, both men are scrambling to find everything, and piling it on the counter, yourself you bring out some bowls, cookie cutters, lets face it. You needed the actual men to decorate like howling commandos. Turning on the oven to get it preheated, you search for decorations. “Steve, store run? We gotta make this accurate you know, and Buckys all dressed up for a day baking. Hate to send him." You just kinda motion lver Buckys getup, the kiss the cook stretched over his chest, the apron a size to small for him really.

Your already grabbing paper and jotting down a detailed list of food coloring, frosting, candies and such. Steve snatched the list when you held it out, he had a general idea of it all and nodded. "Dont hesitate to put Bucky to work. He just pretends to be all intimidating."

You roll your eyes and back in the kitchen theres a "Steve your a dick" retort from Bucky whos looking over the mess of ingredients piled on the counter. Steve, seemingly joyful as he grabbed keys and left, you suspect you might not see him at least another hour or two. No worries, you had the other super soldier on hand.

Heading back in you hand Bucky a bowl and eggs. "Start cracking, separating yolk from white, and no shells." You cant help but from watching him, looking a bit like a lost child, before he he starts to crack eggs and inspect for shells. You watch from the corner of your eye as you put together the dry ingredients, and start mesuring out the molasses, talking him through the rest of the buttercream frosting ingredients.

Dipping your finger in his finished product, you lick the tip of your finger, smirking at his widened eyes. Yea Steve, hes very intimidating. You maybe took a bit to much pleasure in teasing Bucky on occasion. "Mmmhh my very favorite part.... "

He cleared his throat and looked away, it might be a bit mean, but he would give it back later, this was a dance the two of you played. "Okay, what now?" He said a bit gruff and you grab your rolling pin, holding it to him.

Eyeing it a moment, his brow arched. "Ya want me to roll the dough?"

"Yea Buck, nice and thin, since you two want to make all these outer buildings as well." Pointing to Steve's sketching, And you reached in the dough and piled it on the counter on front of Bucky. "And Steve said to put you to work."

"I notice you gave Steve the easy job." He muttered as he started to flatten the dough.

"I knew you were more capable."

Bucky couldn't hide the grin at the compliment, and afterwards you both measured, cut and got the cookie sheets in the oven. Stealing part of the couch back from Sam and watching trash tv till the oven beeped. Bucky vaulted over the couch, head back into the kitchen and pulled them out of the oven.

"Are they firm?" You ask, peeking at them, a light brush of your fingers against them. The room smelled like bake gingerbread and smooth sugar. Tempting delectables to say the least.

"Yup, now what?"

"Cool and mantle your buildings." You say as You slide them off onto wire racks. "Go get the frosting, and I will show you." Already he was rummaging in the fridge to retrieve it. Peeling off the plastic cling, you pick up one of the cooler pieces and edged it with icing. Folding two pieces together. "Easy as that. You try."

Bucky took it so seriously, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he piped that icing. His brows furrowed together in a dip right at the center. You bite back a grin and get a large dollop of icing on your finger and flick it at the man. Landing right in his face. He drops his cookie in surprise and blinks though the icing. "Fucken hell, Y/N! Whats that for?" Wiping it off, he flicks it back at you and you squeal getting hit.

That's war!

"Oh its on Barnes" smirking as you grab a cookie and crumble it, shooting it at him. Cookies fly, icing it flung, flour, and sugar is used to blind one another, you two ducked around the table, screaming and yelling insults playfully.

Bucky tried using the hose at the kitchen sink to spray you, in which you ducked and rolled right into him, the two of you collapsing in a heap on the floor among all your hard work, broken and scattered. Steve stood in the doorway, arms laden with two paper bags, his jaw hanging open at the mess. Bucky pokes you to get your attention and the two of you sit up, covered. Head to toe in frosting, flour and cookies.

"I was just gone an hour..."

"Its a long time to be left unsupervised." You shrug as you smear some frosting off your shirt and lick it off your finger, Bucky helped himself to your shirt frosting to since he had thrown half the bowl on you.

"Oh damn, thats good!" He grins.

"What about this is good?! You mean your gingerbread murder scene?!" Steve toed a dead gingerbread man with the tip of his shoe.

Bucky looked around and glared at his friend. "IT WAS HISTORICALLY ACCURATE" His voice raided to defend the mess and you promptly stuff a cookie in his mouth to shut him up.

"Come on Steve. Did the Hydra base not look like this after you two and the howling commandos were done?" You throw a cookie at him which bounced off his chest. "Eat a cookie, you feel better" next to you Bucky continued eating broken gingerbread men, grinning at his friend and nodding.

"Best damn cookies besides your mama's!" Bucky added between mouthfuls

"I just... Pick this up you two before tony throws a fit." Turning with the bags of candy he bought, passing Sam, he ditched them on the man still scrolling youtube

"You couldn't watch them for two seconds Sam?"

"And break up that little love fest? Puh-lease" Sam grinned at Steve and dug into the paper bags looking through the snacks, pulling out twizzlers.

"SCORE!"

@what-is-your-plan-today @p8tn0lish @kitkatd7 @stuckonjbbarnes @sebbbystaaan @kimisama1989 @simsadventures @that-damn-girl @imanuglywombat @jtargaryen18 @stardancerluv​ @princess-evans-addict​

#satanoutofcontext #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #steve rogers #sam wilson #mcufam #fluffy #writing challenge #sweater writes #amber writes

[zambie-trashart]

Copycat: Rewritten Series

this one... awienfvwiuebdsilubvwliuerhnv;uihw. That’s how I feel. Also here’s just something for you guys. Chat likes Jon, Jon likes Chat. Adrien likes Jon, Superboy likes Chat. It’s like the love square but different. Damian likes Ladybug and Marinette but doesn’t know they are the same person. Marinette likes Damian and thinks that Robin is way too serious.

Read the whole series

Summary: Marinette tries to ask Damian on a date and leaves an embarrassing voice mail while Jon and Alya go to the ceremony and Ladybug doesn’t show up. Theo gets jealous of Chat Noir but how could he if Chat likes someone else.

...........................

“How about inviting him to a movie?” Tikki asked and Marinette sighed. This was not going to be easy. The kwami suggested that she just call him. 

Marinette ran to Jon’s room and flung the doors open.“I need Damian’s number!” she said shaking her cousin.

“OK, OK, geeze call Alya over, you’re going to need moral support,” Jon gave her his phone cause he knew that Damian wouldn’t answer a random number.

They called him and it went to voicemail. She left a message and threw the phone forgetting to hang up. “What did you expect me to say, hey hot stuff, this is Marinette, I’d ask you on a date the the movies but I’ve got such a crazy crush on you that the only way I can talk to without foaming at the mouth is over this stupid phone, pretty ridiculous right,” the phone beeped asking if it wanted to save the message, Marinette panicked and hit the wrong button saving the message which was now on her crush’s phone.

“OK, relax Marinette, his fencing ends in an hour, that’s how much time you have to get rid of the message,” Jon said trying to calm down his cousin. They walked out of the house and saw the ceremony in the park and Chat Noir had just landed in the park.

“Excuse me Chat Noir, but Ladybug’s not here,” Theo said to Chat who saw Jon in the crowd.

“Don’t worry about Ladybug, I’m sure she’ll be here any minute. I can handle this situation by myself for now, I’m the one in charge any way you know,” Chat winked at Jon who turned bright red and stayed close to Alya.

Marinette went though the lockers looking for Damian’s and she took his phone but only because she panicked.

“Ladybug didn’t show up, I just wanted to express my adoration for her, let her know that everything I had went into these statues,” Chat stopped listening after that cause it was getting kind of creepy.

“You know, hate to burst your bubble, but Ladybug and I are partners no room for anyone else in the mix.”

“Really?” Theo asked thinking back to the times when Robin and Superboy helped.

“Yeah, we’re like this,” Chat said crossing his fingers smiling at Theo.

Theo went back to his workshop upset no mortified was more the word. “A thing huh, can’t even take love seriously calling it a thing, he doesn't deserve her, I do!” He then became Copycat and got into a lot of trouble to make the police and Ladybug go after the real Chat Noir.

Marinette and Jon looked at the news in shock. “A thief, no way.” Jon looked at the news one more time remembering back to that morning where the artist had a lollipop stick in his mouth and a stick was placed at the scene of the crime.

“He’s not the thief, someone else is, the artist who made your sculpture was upset when you weren’t there this morning and sort of gave a love confession so Chat stuck up for you but might have made things a little worse by saying you guys were like that,” Jon said crossing his fingers like Chat did that morning.

“Ugh that idiot cat,” Marinette said as they ran over to the Louvre. Chat had been captured and was probably going to try and use his powers to get out. “Stay out here just in case he comes over this way.” 

Superboy watched as Chat ran away and helicopters started chasing him. Robin signaled him on the coms. “What the hell is going on out there Kent?”

“I’ve got it handled Dames, you just relax and sit back for a while,” Jon said flying above Chat and listening in on his conversation with Ladybug. He was going to find his impostor.

“My phone is missing and I have the feeling that you and your cousin are behind it,” Damian said obviously upset through the com.

“Oh, it’s missing is it? Wow, have you tired retracing your steps?” Jon asked nervously.

“Oh whatever I’ll give you until lunch tomorrow, it it’s not in my locker... I will be most put out.” the line went dead.

“That was a close one.”

...........................

Chat called Ladybug from a warehouse and the she couldn’t tell the two Chat’s apart. It was horrible.

“Ask him about our love you each other,” Chat said grasping at straws. She had confronted him at one point and he had admitted to her that he liked someone but it wasn’t a girl. She comforted him and asked who this boy was and she was shocked to hear it was her cousin.

“I hope you didn’t tell him about us,” Ladybug asked smirking.

“What?” Chat asked eyes wide.

“What we’re you know, we made a secret promise,” Ladybug said and Chat smiled.

“Right of course,” Ladybug shut that down. Jon was waiting on the rooftop. He didn’t think that they would need this help but in case they did he would always be there for his cousin and his crush. 

A fight broke out between the two Chats and even Jon had to admit that it was confusing. Robin landed on the roof next to him. “Seems a little stalkerish, even for you Superboy,” Robin said watching Ladybug.

“He’s pretty good.”

“No need to rub it in,” Chat said upset.

“I told you I was better than him,” Copycat said smirking up at Ladybug.

“But I’m better than both of you!” Ladybug said taking one of the batons and tossing it over to the real Chat.

“Burn,” Jon said laughing even Damian was smiling a little.

They tricked him and released his akuma and Damian had to admit that when Theo talked to Ladybug it was more than a little creepy but he assured her that he was just a fan and loved all of the heroism that she did.

Chat and Ladybug met on the roof.

“I’m glad you knew it was me,” Chat said scratching the back of his neck.

“I just had to figure out which Chat wasn’t really in love with me, it was a no brainer,” she said flicking the bell on his costume.

Chat transformed back and took a camera from his room to go and record something.

“Hello Parisians, I have something to tell you. I, Chat Noir am gay. I hope it doesn’t change the way you guys think about me but I figured you guys would want to know.” he stopped the video and posted it on Alya’s blog and it instantly received a lot of love.

...........................

Jon sat in Marinette’s room replaying the “I, Chat Noir am gay.” over and over again.

“You’ve got to stop that Jon and you promised that you would take Damian’s phone back for me,” Marinette said she had deleted the message and put the phone in front of Jon who’s brain was a pile of mush.

Jon, later that evening, was walking over to where Damian said he would meet him and saw Chat Noir sitting on a rooftop. Chat looked at him and smiled waving. Jon looked up and smiled back. Damian held his hand out for his phone but Jon was freaking out too much.

“You really are hopeless.” Damian said smiling slightly.

...........................

anddddddddddddddddddddddddd end of that one next up Evillustrator.

@loveswifi​  @ash-amg​ @mochegato​

#mlrarepair #miraculous rewrite #miraculous ladybug #miraculous class #jon x adrien #marinette x damian #rarepair

[sanders-sides-fic]

Hunters and pray(ing)

So, I talked to my younger brother about the prompt-thingy. My brother doesn’t watch Sanders Sides and avoids English with a passion (it’s our secondary language), but he still made a request. So, even though he will never read this: “Are you stupid? Or just randomly suicidal?” and “Careful, there are Vampires around here” with, and I quote, »the purple one, the snake-guy and the one who does that thing with his arms«

XD Enjoy.

Virgil hated whenever Janus did something like that. He was supposed to be the one in charge, he was supposed to be careful. Not… Whatever that was!

Then again, Virgil may or may not be a perfect example on what not to do, as well. After all, he hadn’t left their new house since they had moved in, not even for the sake of buying new clothes. But that didn’t matter, he’d just used some of the fabric from an old cloak he couldn’t wear anymore anyways and had patched his outfit up. He kinda liked it. Actually, he felt way more comfortable in the worn, customized hoody than he had with any of the high-price stuff Janus felt to be appropriate.

But that wasn’t the point.

The point was that Janus was ignoring all the flashing lights and for what? He just didn’t get it. Why was it so important to Janus to always look perfectly put together at all times? Why was it so important that he had to go into the city, right amongst the ones they had to fear the most, every other day. Appearance had always been a huge deal to him, Virgil guessed, but not to that extent. Maybe because they were new or something like that?

No. No, Virgil couldn’t believe that. Janus was a smooth talker, a slick bastard and a cunning schemer. Janus lied like it was his second nature. Janus was untrustworthy and, yes, at times also back-stabbing. He was impulsively loyal, fiercely vindictive, specifically prideful and his moral compass mostly seemed like a fucking roulette wheel, but the one thing Janus was not was dumb. Dense, maybe, but not dumb. He knew when a risk wasn’t worth it.

So there had to be a reason why Janus went into town all the time. Virgil knew that there had to be. But he had confronted Janus before and, as always, received an outrageous lie as an answer. That and a half-hearted promise not to go for the next few weeks. A promise he’d never intended to keep, as Virgil and he had both known very well.

Virgil looked at the clock in the back the room. It was fairly late, almost five in the morning. And yet Janus wasn’t back still.

That was something that had happened more and more lately, too. Janus never named a reason or anything, but he went out in the early evening hours and would return way too late. Sometimes even injured. He never used to come back hurt, never used to be this careless.

Virgil bit his lip, wanting nothing more than to slap Janus for being home late, again. Seriously, what could be more important than to come back to-

A sudden thought occurred to Virgil, making him stop his pacing back and forth dead in his tracks. No. No, not Janus. Right? Janus wouldn’t get this caught up over some… some guy, would he?

Sure, he had had many lovers before, but every single one of those had been disposable to him. Some even just means to some end, if Virgil remembered correctly. But Janus had never really been in love. He had been loved, but he had never put anyone on equal footing or, perish the thought, even above himself. Even Virgil, who had known Janus basically his entire life, could barely reach thought to him. There was no way Janus had fallen that hard, to actually endanger himself and his family, was there?

…

He didn’t take a coat as he ran outside as fast as he could, just following the street Janus would always take. It took him about five minutes that way to reach the small town close to their new home. He knew Janus had been exaggerating! But that wasn’t what he was here to do. He was here for Janus, to make sure Janus hadn’t gone and done the one thing that had even landed them in this situation.

It took a long time to find him. Longer than he wold have expected, which made it pretty clear that Janus didn’t want to be found. He had been on the verge of giving up and returning home for the night, hoping Janus had done the same already, when he saw him. The young man he considered to be his brother was leaning against a wall, clearly amused. His gloved hands twirled his hat around, the black vest had moved up ever so slightly above the yellow button-up, and Virgil couldn’t help the snicker. As per usual, Janus looked like a mafiosi standing in that dark ally, possibly as suspicious as that would have been possible for a man in a suit at all. And Virgil mistrusted most men in suits.

But, there was also someone with him. Someone with the back to him, so Virgil couldn’t see him properly. But he could make out the brown hair. It looked neatly trimmed and pushed back smoothly. Judging from his back, Virgil would have guessed that the other man lived uptown. A good, stable household. The worst kinds of people, if anyone asked him.

He made a point of not listening in on their conversation, but he didn’t let them out of his sight either. Janus looked happy, or at least he was enjoying himself. Virgil could appreciate that about the stranger. After all, with what had happened, Janus had been tense for quite some time. Thinking about it now, Vigil realized that Janus had been a bit more relaxed lately. Less frustrated and more playful. That hadn’t happened since Remy…

Well, there was a good reason for them to be tense and on the other end of the globe now.

It was close to sunrise when Janus said something and pointed in the direction of a shop. Judging that it would be safe to listen in without disrespecting Janus’ privacy too much, Virgil stopped dulling his senses. “-so my roommate doesn’t get worried. Well, more worried, I suppose. He’s always anxious.”, Janus laughed silently. Virgil huffed in annoyance. As if he hadn’t seen through that tactic long ago. Janus didn’t even try anymore at this point, just bringing back a single, random article. “I’ll be right back, alright?”

“Or, just a thought, you could talk to him.” The strangers voice was thick and rich, like a singer’s voice. Thinking about it now, he also had a great posture, like an actor on a stage. Oh, great. As though Virgil didn’t have enough dramatic people in his life already.

“I will. I promise I will”, Janus replied, making Virgil clench his teeth. Such a liar. “as soon as he’s gotten used to life in America. He’s shaken from that fire still.”

“Oh, the mysterious fire I’ve heard so much and nothing about. Will you ever tell me what actually happened?”

Janus only laughed and waved as he walked into the shop he had pointed at before. Some sort of candle store by the looks of it. Oh, God. Please, not another scented candle!

Virgil sighed deeply as he watched his ‘roommate’, apparently, walk away. Maybe he should go take a closer look at the stranger? See what kind of person Janus had fallen for? Just to make sure it was safe, of cause, the curiosity wasn’t any part of the reason he wanted to do that at all.

Nah, he should probably get back. If Janus wanted to end up a pile on the floor, that was his decision. He himself would much rather go back to sleep or have a nice meal right about now. Besides, it could be dangerous to go talk to a stranger in a strange town in a strange country. Yeah, really didn’t seem like a fail-safe plan to Virgil.

So he naturally put his hands into his pockets, looked for cars and crossed the street, right to where the stranger was standing.

The stranger’s brown eyes meet Virgil’s storm grey ones. He was pretty, Virgil had to leave him that. And he had a color coordinated outfit, which didn’t matter much to Virgil, but was probably a huge plus for Janus.

“Uhm, hi? Can I help you with something?”, the stranger asked. Virgil looked him up and down and nodded his head slowly. “Yes… I kinda got lost and I’ve been wandering around for most of the night. Do you know the direction to the highway, by any chance?”

“What?!”, the nameless stranger asked shocked, his eyes visibly widening, “The entire night? Oh, lord! You have to be more-”

“Responsible? I know. My whole family seems to have that problem lately.”, Virgil interrupted annoyed, looking for a way look into the stranger’s eyes deep enough to question him.

“No. Careful. There are vampires around here, you know?”

And that made Virgil freeze up. He knew? The humans knew? How did they find out?! Had Janus been even more careless than he had thought? Had Janus maybe even confessed? No. No, surely Janus wasn’t that stupid. No way.

“Oh? Doesn’t the church usually take care of things like that?”, Virgil asked, paranoia creeping into his mind. Had there been anyone there tonight who might have figured him out? Anyone who could follow him and stick a pole through them while they slept today? He didn’t think so, but he hadn’t payed attention either. Well, fuck.

“Yes, we usually do. And we did. We have a non-aggression pact with them, though it’s anonymous. Still, you have to be careful with creatures like that. They have… prejudges. Justified prejudges maybe, but they still often attack first and ask questions later, you know?”

What. The. Fuck?! Who the hell was it having prejudges now, idiot? But Virgil forced himself to remain calm. “So, what do you do to be careful? Wear a cross or something?” Most of the things humans thought to be helpful were rubbish, but some of them actually worked. If he was unlucky, he wouldn’t be able to hypnotize the stranger, and then it would only blow his cover and he would know about Janus and they would end up like Remy and-

“No, that doesn’t really work. Best is just not to be out on the streets so late. Well, not alone anyways. I usually go with a friend of mine, but he’s in the store right now.”

Okay, good. If he was quick about it, he might actually be able to pull this off. So Virgil took a deep breath, took the stranger’s face in his hand and forced the eye contact, with a smirk. “I see. You will do as I say and answer al my questions, then.” The stranger barely had any time to gasp in shocked recognition before his body went lax.

“Good. Now, who are you?” “My name is Roman Royals.”

“How old are you?” “Nineteen years.”

“And you are completely human?” “Yes.”

“Do you know Janus?” “I do.”

“What is he to you?” “My boyfriend.”

“And is Janus human?” “Yes.” Virgil let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding when he heard that answer. So at least Janus hadn’t told him anything.

“Okay, last question: You just said ‘we’ when you talked about the church. Why?” “My father’s the priest there.”

Well, fuck. Did Janus know? Probably, he did a background check on the barista he gets his coffee from now. So why did he stick around Roman if he knew? What kind of bullshit was he pulling here? Virgil sighed heavily. “I see. Well, you will forget this ever happened. You just told me where to go and I was on my way. Got it?”

Roman nodded absentmindedly and Virgil let the hypnosis drop, sprinting home without checking that Roman actually forgot what had happened. He just had to get away from there, away from Roman, the priest’s son.

Shock turned to fear pretty fast, and fear to terror. Terror turned into a lack of air and that lack of air turned into helplessness. It was unfortunate that Janus came home right when that helplessness just finished its slow transformation to rage. Not unfortunate for Virgil, but certainly unfortunate for Janus. And Janus could tell the moment he closed the door and locked eyes with Virgil.

For a few moments everything was silent. Then, Virgil pointed out in a voice colder than ice: “You’re late. From happy hour to blue hour, again.” Janus nodded slowly. “Yes… I lost track of time.”

Virgil didn’t even acknowledge that lie with a response, which told Janus enough about how damn angry he had to be. So Janus gave a nervous smile, swallowing dry. They both knew how dangerous Virgil could be if he wanted to. He had always been their best fighter, amongst other dangerous but useful qualities. Janus cleared his throat. “Right. As you said, Virge, it’s pretty late, so I should probably go to bed. Good day.”

“Don’t”, Virgil interrupted Janus’ fast retreat dead in his tracks, making his friend stop dead in his tracks, “lie to me, Janus. I know about him.”

“What?” The question was a mere whisper, probably even imperceptible to the human ear. But neither of them were human, were they? That was kind of the problem, so Virgil certainly heard. He didn’t answer, though, only looked Janus dead into his eyes. So Janus asked again, this time a little louder though still full of shocked uncertainty: “What do you mean?”

“I mean”, Virgil answered through clenched teeth as he stalked forward towards Janus, “I know what you’ve been up to every night. I mean I know about your stupid ass decision. I mean, Janus, that I know about the Royals boy.”

“How do you know about Roman? You never even leave the house!”

“For good reason! Or have you forgotten why we came here at all? Have you forgotten about the fire that did that” - Virgil pointed uncharacteristically expensively to the light burn marks on the side of Janus’s face that started to stand out more in the morning light - “to you? And then you go and, what, jump at the first decent looking human you can find?”

“No! Of cause I didn’t forget. But this is fine, we’re fine, we’re safe, I promise.”, Janus was quick to defend, but it didn’t do him any good. Virgil only let out a humorless laugh.

“Oh? Is it? You are always out with a human, whose family runs the church no less, and come back so close to dawn that you arrive seriously injured. So, please, tell me, Janus, are you stupid?! Or just randomly suicidal? Which one is it, huh?!”

“Really, Virgil. I’m being honest right now.”, Janus insisted, even taking off his gloves to show the trembling hands underneath and painting a cross above his heart. “He… Roman, isn’t like that. He’s different. This is different. You have to believe me!”

“Funny. That’s what Remy said, too. And then the fucking house was brunt down by the fucking human. Tell me, how did that go? Hm? Where’s our coven now? Our home?! It’s only you, me, and the two unconscious brothers upstairs that’s left!”

Janus tried and failed to hide the pain that crossed his face remembering that night, whispering: “No one could have seen that coming…”

“I did!”, Virgil cried angrily and desperate, ”I did, and you didn’t listen to me, and now it’s happening again, and you don’t listen to me again, do you?!”

A beat passed by before either of them did anything again. It was Janus who moved first, straightened his back defiantly and moved out of his defensive position, crossing his arms and shaking his head slightly. “No, I will not. And I don’t have to, either. In case you forgot, I am the leader of this coven, so I get to decide. Maybe I should have listened to you back then, but that was back then and now is right now. This conversation is over.”

“It’s not.”, Virgil sighed defeatedly. He didn’t make eye contact anymore but watched the sun rise through the protective glass instead. “I won’t stand around and watch this happening again. If you don’t end things with him, I will end things with you.”

“Are you… Virgil, is that an ultimatum? Are you making me choose between you and him?”, Janus asked in disbelieve. He wanted to get angry at Virgil, but he could see the pained expression on his friend’s face. His shoulders were shaking and tears started to silently race down his face, as he whispered with a broken voice: “I just can’t see that happen again, Jan. I’m sorry, but I just… Just, please.”

Janus sighed. “How long have you known me for, Virgil? Six-hundred years?” “Five-hundred-thirty-five. Since the fourteen-eighties.”, Virgil nodded absentmindedly.

“Right.”, Janus softly continued, drawing soothing circled on Virgil’s back. ”I got us through the times of the witch trials, I got us through two world wars, I got us through the development of photography and videos. I protected us from werewolves, aristocrats, christian fanatics, fanatic civilians, homophobes and even nazis. So why would you ever mistrust me?”

“Because you are a liar by nature.”, Virgil answered without missing a beat. But he also sighed, leaning against Janus. “But… It’s not you I have troubles trusting.”

“Only because you don’t know him yet. Roman won’t hurt us.”, Janus insisted again

 Virgil scoffed: “He’s human.”

“So where you. But I gave you a chance, didn’t I? When everyone was avoiding you because your mother used to be a witch?”

The silence dragged on and on, until Virgil finally pulled away and walked towards the stairs. “I’m gonna hit the hay, tonight was fucking exhausting.”

“Virgil?” Janus’ voice was so soft and breakable right now, so very vulnerable, and Virgil couldn’t even bare to look at him. So he sighed, almost out of sight, hesitating before finally saying: “One dinner. Tell him I’ll cook dinner for us the night after tomorrow, nine in the afternoon. He’ll get his chance to make me trust him then, and if he does he can stay. But that’s all he gets, just that one dinner.”

And then he left, leaving a smiling, somewhat relieved Janus down in the entrance hall. Now all he had to do was tell Roman. And maybe, in time, the two most important people in his life would actually get along some time soon. He sure hoped they would. But for now, a chance was good enough.

For now.

Masterpost: here

Prompt-chart and one-shots: here 

Taglist:  @gattonero17

#I forgot to do the tags again #damn #I gotta remember that #like it’s not that hard #people won’t even see this otherwise #who decided to make me an adult? #I can write about death and torture and blood but I can’t even remember to tag shit #but oh well #enough with the conversations down here #sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #Janus Sanders #sanders side fic #vampire au #one shot prompts #fan fiction #sanders sides au #angst

[robertdowneyhiddlesbatch]

Chapter 4: Purpose

warnings: anatomy/talk of sex

Myrena was expecting an earth shattering roar to wake her, buried under the collapsed mountain. She was happily surprised to find herself awoken in bed by the sound of birds. She stared up into the abyss, listening to their twitters and tapping beaks. Myrena had no way to tell what time of day it was from deep within a mountain. After a while, she forced herself out of bed and dragged her feet to the giant basin of water. The water was unforgivingly cold on her face, but she needed that to wake up. Myrena left the room after washing up, ready to start her day. 

This round, she took her time to look around her surroundings. They were underground; the ceiling probably reaching beyond the skies if she had to guess. It was perhaps a kingdom of some race back in its day. A hundred chambers lined this way and that; ruins of stairs going all the way up and all the way down. This place was a shadow of its former glory, she'd guess. Of course, with a dragon living in it now, nothing else could. Speaking of, Myrena wondered where her host had gone to.

She picked a random room of choice, and to her joy found a great big window. Myrena ran to it and stepped out on the terrace. Oh was the morning breeze a blessing! Having closed her eyes to enjoy the cool, she opened them again to look out. In front of her was a clearing, beyond which began the forest. To its left was a lake. Myrena felt as if she were a child again. Gathering her inner strength in a deep breath, she ran and leapt to the terrace next door. 

Her landing was successful, but her wounds from yesterday punished her. Ignoring the stings, Myrna continued running and leaping till the lake was front and center. She closed her eyes again, feeling the wind blow the water gently in her face. Suddenly, the air froze and her eyes snapped open, danger looming. Myrena leaned over the railing, watching the water rumble. Then without warning, a red flash leapt out of the lake, showering her with lake water. It would have been more fun if fish weren't part of that experience.

"You're awake!" She was sure the voice boomed across the world.

"What are you doing?'' she screamed up at Smaug.

"Going. For. A dip." He answered as he twirled higher up, showering her more.

Myrena laughed and waved him off, going back in to change her clothes. 

There was a pile of clothes in another part of her room. Myrena didn't dare think where the dragon could have picked them up from. As she began to take off her soaking dress, the cloth weighed heavy on her shoulders, causing her body to ache. She grunted as she used her strength to push the sleeve down her shoulder, the wound on her oblique stinging painfully.

"Need a hand?"

Myrena yelped as she turned to face Smaug standing in the doorway, hands clasped behind his back, wearing his red coat and black leather pants again. The only sign that he'd been in the water was the curly hair on his head, sticking to his forehead.

"Um, I know this is your home, but can't a girl have some privacy?" Myrena was half serious as she covered her chest.

Smaug laughed a throaty laugh that went up the caverns of the room. 

"And who, may I ask, bound you in the first place?" He curiously pointed at her with a knuckle.

Myrena looked down herself. Her wounds had been patched and wrapped, and the dress on her shoulders was not her own. Her cheeks stung with shame. 

"You've... seen me. Naked."

"Ah, only to necessity. You seem to forget I am not man, your human hesitations do not apply to me."

"Right. Well then, Mr. Dragon. I've soaked through my dress and bandages thanks to you. So if you wouldn't mind?"

She teased him and stood up to stand toe to toe with him, suggesting he undo the strings on her torso. Smaug smirked and grabbed the top of her dress, and in one go, ripped it straight down the middle. She instinctively moved her arms to cover her chest and groin, but found it silly. Her breast wrappings from days ago was still bound tightly around her chest, and her underwear was also still on, though both were threatening to fall from the weight of the water. For a dragon, Smaug was pretty chivalrous. 

"I need to take them off." Myrena simply told him and turned away, back towards the bed. 

The end of the wrap was tucked into the binding just below her left armpit. But her right shoulder killed her as she reached to the other side to peel it off. It took the breath out of her just the first unwrapping, and she rested after it.

"Need a hand?" Smaug asked again as he came behind her.

"No! Don't rip it! I don't assume you've got more under wraps?"

"Never needed them."

Myrena laughed. 

"Great. I'll just..." she reached for it again, now hanging below her right arm, straining as she did. Smaug huffed and grabbed it instead, unwrapping it all the way. 

"Darn." Myrena exhaled instead of thanking him. "The bandages."

"I've done it before," Smaug offered.

"Thank you. But I had my wrap on then. Now I don't..." she squealed before she could finish. Smaug had grown tired and, turning her around, lifted her in his arms and placed her on the bed. 

"For the last time, and you remember it well, now. I am a dragon. I don't care for your human trivialities. Either you can shut up and let me do you, which isn't something I do for anyone else, or you can suffer in your pain and help yourself!" Smaug told her all in one breath, and Myrena watched him, too stunned to speak. 

"I'll take your silence for your consent. Now, I'll warn you. It may sting a little." 

That was his only warning as he began to redo her bandages. She hissed when he dabbed the healing potions on her wounds, but never complained. 

"Thank you," Myrena said when he was almost done.

Smaug half smiled. "I was beginning to think you were the ungrateful kind. It takes you a minute to appreciate." He stepped back when his work was done. 

Myrena stood up to put on the dress, thankful that this one didn't have strings. It did have buttons on the back of the collar, which she could no doubt ask Smaug to do for her. Smaug's kindness had reached its cap and he let her get the dress on herself. It took her longer than usual, but eventually she got it on. As she was dressing, Myrena noticed Smaug play with a bird. The little thing flittered around his head then came to sit on his offered finger.

"You don't eat birds?"

"Eat birds?" He turned her way. "Why would I eat birds? Do you think a bird would satisfy me?"

Myrena suddenly remembered the night she'd seen his dragon form. He'd eaten all her assailants, and her horse too. 

"You'd have to eat a whole forest."

"Eh, I wouldn't. Birds clean my teeth for me, eating the stuff stuck in between. Kind of a co dependent relationship."

"Interesting. Speaking of eating..." she looked guiltily at him.

"Right. Any interest in fish?" He lead her out of the room.

Myrena laughed, realizing he meant the ones that he'd 'given' her in the morning. 

"As long as it's cooked." She followed him into the terrace room.

The terrace was still wet, with a heap of fish lying about. The room had a furnace as well, on which she could cook her breakfast. Myrena collected the better looking fish and brought them into the room. She cut off their heads with the blade she'd brought with her, and fixed them on to the spit.

"Can you, light the fire?" She curiously asked him, wondering if he'd have to turn into his full form.

Thankfully, he didn't. Smaug went up to the furnace and crouched next to it. Then he took in a big breath and blew, hot streams of fire coming up from his throat and lighting the coal. Myrena sat opposite him, turning the spit. 

"Does that not burn you? In your human form?"

"Not really. It feels like it always does. A tickle in the back of the throat."

As he went on describing it, Myrena got up and brought more fish from the terrace, replacing the cooked ones with some of the raw. 

"You said I'm the only one you've ever helped."

"Hmm?" 

"Back in the room, you said I was the only person you were ever going to help. What makes me so special?"

Smaug mused. "I've been stalking your legend, ghost bride. The night you first saw me was not the first time I'd seen you."

"And you decided I was helpless?" She playfully suggested while popping a piece of fish in her mouth. 

Smaug laughed. "No, you're quite the opposite really. I decided..." he paused for effect, "that you would be my mate."

Her eyes grew ten fold. "I... Because I look like a dragon?"

"Metaphorically. You've got dragon traits; the solitude, the strength, the determination." Smaug had golfed down his second raw fish.

"When you say mate. I assume, would include... the act..." Myrena blushed.

"Yes." Smaug stated matter of factly.

"In your human form of course?" There was no possible other way.

"Initially." He stated.

"Initially?!" She choked. "You think you'd fit?" Her legs reflexively closed. 

"Hah! Mortal, I have talons longer than your arms." 

The red of her cheeks reached the tip of her ears. 

"Oh! We can't be possible! I'm afraid just thinking about it!"

"Lovely! You're just worried about the length. The barbs would be no trouble for you, yes?"

"B-barbs? There are... barbs?! They'll cut!"

"They serve their purpose. When we mate for the first time, the barbs will surely cut you, but that'll allow my seed to get into your blood." He ate. "As my mate, you'll need to be changed, my chemicals would have to bind with yours, change your chemistry. Make you turn."

His mouth made a clicking sound, releasing his fangs which startled Myrena.

"My fangs will release a venom in your blood..."

"But venom kills."

"Yes. But with my seed running in your blood as well, the two will work to match your chemistry to mine."

"What if I object?"

"You don't have the choice. It'll be easier for you to accept your fate."

"So what?" Myrena stormed up, and Smaug followed suit. "You'll force me to marry you? Subject me to you? Like, like him?"

Smaug growled and roughly pinned her next to the fireplace. 

"iiigh am not like other men! You have no master except Smaug!" He bellowed, but calmed for the next part of his dialogue, though the anger was still there. "I will only force you to be my mate, and the sire bond that will be between us. But beyond that, you'll go about as you always have: with your free will."

Angry as he was, no one had ever offered her the life this dragon currently was. It may have been his mating instinct talking, but she'd trade her whole town for this dragon. 

"What if, I don't know?" She meekly asked.

"Don't know what?"

"How to... how to mate."

Smaug laughed a deep laugh.

"You don't know how to mate?"

"Well I get the basic sense of it, but I don't know all the rituals."

"We dragons just, get it in, let it out and done." He finally let go and walked back to his seat.

Myrena laughed. "Well that's very banal! I hope that's not how humans do it."

"Your mother never taught you?"

Myrena stalled in her step, then took her seat before answering.

"My mother died before I was of age."

"I'm... sorry." Smaug said mutely. "I picked up the sentiment from watching mortals for quite some time." He explained when she gave him a puzzled look. "Who else is in your pride?"

"My family? Well, I'm the oldest of three. There's Beorn after me, then Feomer. The both of them took after our father, greedy and evil and insults to our race! But then there was Quince. Oh, little Quincy! He was born... different. The other two didn't accept him, neither did our father. But mother and I loved him. He was all I had after mother died. I took him to the monks before my wedding."

"Wedding." Smaug stated the word, but his heart burned with the thought. "You married?" He got off his seat, heading for the door. 

Myrena suddenly remembered back two minutes ago when he'd proclaimed her as his mate. She felt bad for him, for the two of them, and followed after.

"Only the ceremony. We never consummated."

"I suppose you need more of your clothes." Smaug changed the topic. "There's a town by the foot of the mountain on the other side. You're welcome to visit it if you like." He told her and turned away towards his treasury.

"I will. Thanks for letting me know." Myrena called after him, letting him go in peace.

@tschrist1

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#rdhb #the lonely dragon #cumber!smaug

[timelords-angel-is-sherlocked]

Day Five - Red Noses (Lukanette)

Luka was fond of winter. It was the time of sweets and no school and gloomy weather and enjoying time with the people he loved most. Schoolwork was dwindling down and soon, it would be another year finished. He played his guitar with the tune he had made for his sister. He loved his sister with his whole heart - even if Juleka was still unsure of herself. He knew she just needed a little guidance and help, and Luka was the best big brother for the job.

“Sup, bro,” she greeted as she walked in through the door.

“Hey, little sis.” Luka finished the melody and set his guitar down. “What’s good?”

“Who even says ‘what’s good’ anymore?” She scrunched her nose and stuck her tongue out in a teasing fashion. “I want to go to the park with my friends, but Mom said she wants you to come with me. Adult supervision or something.”

“I hardly doubt as an adult.” His laugh filled the room. Before he was about to agree, Juleka pressed on.

“Marinette is going to be there. Not Adrien though, what a shame.” Siblings knew the right buttons to push, and Juleka knew Marinette was Luka’s soft spot. Knowing this, he rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at her.

“I was going to say yes, punk. But now, I suppose I will think about my appearance.” When Juleka first started dating Rose, Luka was careful about looking like a presentable older brother. As time went on, he found that Rose loved and cared for his sister, so he stopped trying to look cool when she or Mylene would come over. They’ve seen him shirtless or in his pants before. Marinette was something else, though. He had to look for an outfit besides the sweats and sweatshirt he was going to wear.

“I’m rooting for ya!” She gave a mock salute before retreating to her side of the room to get ready.

-

The park had a good amount of snow. So much so that Alya and Nino had already made a makeshift fort. Luka knew of them from Marinette and Juleka, but never explicitly spoke to either one. He settled for waving and that seemed like enough since two other people came looking lightly dressed for the weather.

“Alix, Kim, this is my brother Luka. Luka, Alix, Kim.” Juleka motioned.

“How’s it going?” I shook both their hands.

“More competition? This is going to be so much fun!” Kim cheered.

“Ignore him. So you’re Luka, huh?” She looked him up and down before a smirk settled on her face. “I’ll be watching you.” Alix then walked away.

“Rose! Hey, Mylene. Hey, Ivan!” Juleka went off to greet her friends. Little actions like this showed that she was starting to be more comfortable with herself.

“Kim, start with the other forts while we wait for Mari. I bet she’s still sleeping,” Alya laughed. Kim quickly took to gathering snow and putting it into a pile. Alix was throwing some in his direction defending the actions with an “I’m not trying to hit you! You’re just in the way.”

“Sorry I’m late!” The baker’s daughter called out as she approached them. “I overslept.” Alya and the others laughed while Marinette went and greeted everyone. “Oh hey, Luka! I didn’t know you were going to be here.” She started to blush.

“Mom wanted me to make sure that Juleka was going to be safe. She may have also mentioned that you were gonna be here.” Luka gave her that soft smile that made her insides melt and blushed even harder.

“Let’s get this show on the road!” Rose called out. “Partner up everybody.” The couples went with their respective partners.

“It seems that it was a good idea that you came.” It was now Luka’s turn to blush. Marinette had her arms lightly wrapped around one of his.

It was a free for all. Snowballs were flying in all different directions. Surprisingly, Marinette had quick reflexes and dodged a lot of the projectiles that were heading towards her. Luka wasn’t so lucky. He was mostly wet and even through his gloves, he could start to feel the cold of the snow. It was a solid five minutes of hurling snow at each other before Nino spoke up.

“Dudes, we should like, do a tournament!” Everyone ceased fire to hear his idea. “Partners against partners until there’s a winner!”

“Heck yeah, I’m down!” Alix cheered.

“Yeah, what she said!”

“You are all going down!” Rose exclaimed. There was a bit of competitive banter going around until Nino was able to calm everyone down.

“First will be Rose and Juleka vs. Mylene and Ivan. Then Alya and I vs. Alix and Kim. The winners in the first match will go against Marinette and Luka. Then those winners against Alya and I. You all ready?” Everyone nodded and went back to restore some of the forts.

“What are the rules?” Ivan spoke up.

“Right.” Nino blushed. “Five hits with a snowball and you’re out. We’ll be judging closely.”

Juleka made the snowballs while Rose threw them. She had a surprisingly good right arm and took Ivan out easily. He was bulky and peaked his head out pretty often. Not long after that, Mylene went down.

“Dang, girl!” Alya complimented. “Next time we play dodgeball, you are totally gonna be on my team.”

“You think that was impressive?” Kim shouted to get the attention on him. “Watch us dominate you!”

This round went on longer. Alix was as agile as a bunny, Alya as sneaky as a fox, Nino as slow as a turtle, and Kim as random as a monkey. The first to go was Nino, but the members on the other team only needed two more hits before going down. Alya needed three. It was a clutch, but Alya came out victorious. 

“Babe, you were amazing!” Nino gushed and kissed his girlfriend. Alix threw a snowball at them and everyone laughed.

“Don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because you’re my sister,” Luka taunted.

“I wouldn’t have to go easy to beat you.” A series of oooooh’s followed that comment.

“Let’s show them what we’ve got,” Marinette whispered to Luka. Her face showed signs of determination and Luka mirrored it.

Marinette focused on Rose and the siblings focused on each other. So much snow was being thrown that it was hard to discern who was getting hit. Luka used this as an advantage to wedge himself in a corner that couldn’t be seen and tossed relentless snowball after snowball. They were victorious.

“It’s because you had Marinette on your team. She’s crazy awesome!” Rose laughed.

“Yeah. She really is.” Luka sent Marinette a longing gaze that she blushed under. 

“You’re amazing too, Luka. The way you were hiding and-”

“Come on lovebirds! I wanna see who’s gonna win!” Mylene cheered. 

“If we win, you’re treating us with treats from the bakery,” Alya taunted to her best friend.

“And if we win?” She had her hands on her hips.

“We’ll stop teasing you and Luka,” she thought aloud after a minute.

“Well, let’s get this show on the road!” Marinette skipped over to their fort. “I have no intention of losing. I want to wipe that smug grin off her face.”

Luka nodded and started to form the snowballs. Marinette knew her friends’ style, and that gave her the upper hand. When Alya dodged, she would often land forward on all fours and scurry behind the ice wall. Nino would throw up a shield of ice to protect himself and his girlfriend. They didn’t know Marinette’s style though.

A snowball was heading towards Luka who was too busy making ammunition, he didn’t see it. She grabbed him by his leg and pulled him down. It barely went over his head. Mari then grabbed a handful of snowballs and dodged out of the hiding place. She threw three balls in quick succession and all three of them made their mark on Nino before he could even react. Taking advantage of the confusion, Luka threw one at Alya and another at Nino. The latter was out.

“Why am I always the first one out,” he huffed. Although, it was clear he was impressed with his friends. Alya was not going to give up, though.

Marinette was hit in the face and then in the chest. Luka rushed to her side and got hit twice as well. Marinette sent a couple of balls in the enemy’s direction and was satisfied when she heard a thump.

“Woah, she wasn’t even looking!” Kim admired. The two were back behind the fort, breathing heavily. Luka got out finally and now it was the two girls. Each needed one more hit. Whichever ball made contact first would dictate the winner.

Marinette scanned her surroundings, scrunching her nose as she looked for something that may help her get the upper hand. She looked down at her scarf, then her beanie, and then the stick that lay not that far behind her. She knew Alya was waiting for her to peak out. Once Mariette showed herself, Alya would throw an onslaught of balls to declare her victory. Even the spectators were getting edgy. Marinette knew foxes were good at burrowing, but Alya had major patience.

Mari grabbed the stick that balanced the beanie and scarf and braced herself. The fort was small enough for them to crouch behind but easy enough to jump over. She delve the stick into the ground and the beanie popped up. Immidetaly, Marinette dashed forward and used the fort to jump up. Alya was too preoccupied with the decoy that she didn’t notice the assault from overhead. Ladybug owned the sky. She knew exactly how hard to throw things in the air and add spin if she needed to. The sky was her friend. That’s why it was no surprise when the ball met its target.

“Woah!”

“Did you see that!”

“You go Marinette!”

The baker’s daughter landed roughly in a nearby patch of snow. Thankfully it wasn’t frozen yet, so her landing wasn’t as hard as it could’ve been.

“Marinette!” Luka carefully ran over. He took his own scarf off and wrapped it around the girl as he helped her up. “Are you ok?” His eyes were so full of concern and worry that Marinette felt her heart swell.

“Y-Yeah,” she managed. She so hope Tikki saw the whole thing from her window because that was awesome!

“Good.” The worry seemed to mostly evaporate. “That was so amazing! You are so special, Mari. I was captivated by you. I think I know how to finish your melody after seeing that.” 

They stood only a few inches apart. Luka’s arms were still around the petite girl’s waist. Their noses were bright red from the stark cold, but their cheeks were red for entirely different reasons. Hesitantly, Marinette took the boy’s face in her cold, gloved hands and kissed him. She kissed Chat before, but that couldn’t compare to this. Her body started to warm up and she felt light on her feet. She was thankful the boy was able to keep her standing.

“Finally!” Rose cried out. Everyone started whooping and hollering and the two teens split apart. 

“Your nose is still red. Should I do it again?” Luka raised a teasing eyebrow at her.

“C’mon everyone. I’ll get us some warm treats,” the champion proclaimed. No one complained and all started walking to the bakery. “Maybe I do,” she answered once her friends were a little bit ahead. Luka obliged and kissed her with such passion, her hearts did jumping jacks.

“Hey, Rudolph!” Alya called. “You and Prancer coming?” The fashion designer stuck her tongue out and grabbed hold of the musician’s outstretched arm. She was super pale, so it was easy for her nose to get red with the cold. However, if that meant more kisses from Luka, she wasn’t going to complain.

#mlholidays2k19 #luka #marinette #lukanette #red noses #this is so cute #i had a lot of fun writing this #never been in the snow before tho oop

[ranger-report]

Review: Minecraft Dungeons (2020)

Picture this: an isometric action-RPG in which you play as one of multiple intrepid warriors, gathering loot and rare weapons in order to steadily progress through multiple worlds in order to stop a maniacal tyrant from ruling over a terrified land. What game am I talking about? If you picked any number of games, from Gauntlet to Baldur’s Gate: Dark Alliance to Diablo, you’d be right on the money, but this time we’re talking about Minecraft Dungeons, Mojang’s first foray into a non-creative Minecraft experience. Yes, there was Telltale’s Minecraft: Story Mode, but that was Telltale’s baby through and through. This dungeon crawling experience is all Mojang, with a little help from developer Double Eleven, and while the results are somewhat of an uneven experience, it’s a thoroughly enjoyable experience the further you get into it, ultimately to the point of obsession.

Let’s call it Baby’s First Dungeon Crawler. The game is as simple and straightforward as possible. You create your character by choosing their “skin” (read: skin tone and clothes all mixed into one), then dress them up with armor and weapons picked up on a daring quest to save Minecraft land from a vile king called the Arch-Illager. The Illagers are evil versions of the standard Villagers who populate the world, and they’re a little pissed at having been kicked out of good standing just for being themselves. Story means little in this game, a series of events strung together to create a sense of progression, and maybe there’s something here based on Minecraft lore, but to me it felt simply a means to an end: you need to know why you’re on this quest. Here you go. As villains go, the Arch-Illager surprisingly succeeds, a nasty little Napoleon of a ruler who somehow gained a magic wand from the Nether (Minecraft’s evil alter dimension) and so was able to rise up against the Villagers. He pops up at various points to conjure hordes in ambush, shouting “Nyah nyah!” annoyingly to the point where his juvenile taunts come to feel downright abrasive. You want to kick this guy’s teeth in, and it feels so good once you finally do...depending on the difficulty. But that’s getting ahead of things.

Opening up with a basic tutorial level explaining controls, Minecraft Dungeons then introduces Camp, where you and one of up to four heroes make your base between running through levels. Here you can practice your melee weapons and ranged weapons on straw dummies to see how they work before committing to a style. You can also purchase random weapons and gear (called artifacts) which you can equip. Weapons and artifacts can also be found during adventure, always at random Borderlands-style (right down to the Common, Rare, Magical, and Epic tiers), which is one of the most maddening aspects of the game. There’s no way to outright purchase gear that you actually want, meaning as you slog through level after level, gaining hundreds of emeralds to spend at camp, there’s a strong chance you’ll be abandoning a strong weapon in favor of something that’s simply at your actual level rather than what you want to be using. Minecraft Dungeons is an exercise in Letting Go Of Shit, in which you’ll be constantly switching up your play style because your gear, not your preferences, demand it. Adding to this is that weapons and armor can be enchanted, adding bonus stat effects. Higher level gear unlocks multiple enchantment effect slots, each slot allowing your to choose a stat to upgrade -- but again, each enchantment is randomized. Some gear have fantastic stats, which picking up higher level gear afterwards can result in terrible enchantments compared to what you’re currently using. Madness. Chaos. Dice rolls dictate what you pick up, how well they work, how they work, and whether or not it’s worth it to you to equip it.

But what makes this tolerable is that, as Minecraft Dungeons progresses, scalable difficulty can make or break your hardiness. From the opening, there’s three Play Modes: Default, Adventure, and Apocalypse. Each play mode has difficulty you can adjust at the beginning of each level, which will let you know what xp level it’s designed for. It will automatically ratchet up as you progress, but maybe you’ve got a hankering for a challenge, or for higher-level gear sooner than you’re getting to it. Minecraft Dungeons will happily and frequently kick you ass if you ask for it. That is not a sentence I ever expected to type, but it’s true. Beneath the simplistic design and free-for-all gameplay, this happy-go-lucky kids game is vicious and smart. Upping difficulty not only adjusts how potent enemy attacks are, but which enemies you run into, and how often. Just when you think, yes, I’ve got this, I can kick this game up a notch, it jumps you. There are moments when the game point-blank overwhelms you if you ask for it, and if you’re not prepared then you’re dead. Of course, the game is generous: you get three chances to make it all the way through the surprisingly huge, sprawling levels which are full of secrets (and can unlock secret levels), and this can make for sublimely tense moments of gameplay where you’re doing your damnedest to utilize every stat and weapon you’ve picked up just to stay alive long enough for your healing item to regenerate so you can safely pick away at the huge mob of skeletons, zombies, mages, golems, and so forth that are piling down on you. Herein lies the beauty of Minecraft Dungeons: play. Play and get good. Get good and go higher. Go higher and die. Try again. Deeper into the game and difficulty and you’ll be picking up even better tier weapons and armor, which really highlight the sweet shit you can do. Suddenly the huge mobs mean nothing in the face of your lightning rod or corrupted beacon, your crossbow that shoots five explosive arrows at once which all shoot out five more explosive arrows in all directions upon impact. Players can become ridiculously powerful as they progress. Beating the game on Default unlocks the aforementioned Adventure mode, which ups the ante by a large amount, and beating that unlocks Apocalypse, where there is no difficulty scaling -- there is only the game.

Some minor performance issues abound. Playing local co-op sometimes felt a chore trying to get other controllers in, with my PS4 not recognizing that someone was trying to play. Graphical glitches pop up here and there, the most notable being bright colors covering the whole screen whenever someone would exit their inventory. Hopping back into the inventory and hopping out would make the colors disappear, but how they got there in the first place is a mystery. And while the game itself plays well enough, the button to loot items/revive other players is the same as the attack button, and the game would have a hard time discriminating between what I wanted to do whenever I was just a little too close to an object. Am I trying to pick it up or swing my sword? Oftentimes, that which I wanted to do was not what I was actually doing. And in the chaos of multiplayer gameplay, it can become confusing as to what is on the screen, so when I suddenly couldn’t attack because there was a person I needed to revive that I didn’t see, I was flummoxed.

At the end of the day, Minecraft Dungeons does not reinvent the wheel. If anything, this is a game that many have played, and played better, in several other games. Getting into the game from the beginning can feel like a chore, a kid’s game, something that you can hit the snooze button on and wake up a little later in having missed nothing. But go deeper, find the good weapons and armor, scale up the difficulty, and suddenly this isn’t just for the kids anymore. Suddenly you’re on the edge of your seat wondering how the hell a goddamn kids game is pushing you back. You’re picking up epic gear with wild stats that give you a giggle as you jump back in, ready to face the mob. What would make the game more worthwhile would be if it introduced many of these elements sooner, rather than teasing them for a second or third playthrough. Many players above the standard Minecraft age group will be turned off at first, and will turn away. But for those who stick around -- and I do urge you to -- there is a hefty dungeon crawler beneath the hood that, for its flaws, succeeds at being a wild party game and a grit your teeth one-more-try experience. 

Final Score: 8/10

#minecraft dungeons #minecraft #mojang #xbox game studios #double eleven #dungeon crawler #action rpg #steam #playstation 4 #xbox one #review #rubyranger #ranger report #ck burch

[cilldaracailin]

A Kind Of Magic

Ahh I luffles this part :)

19

“Even the most ordinary things can be made extraordinary simply by doing it with the right people”

“If you mention those hot pants once more Maggie, I am ending this phone call.”

Robyn looked to Taron who was further down the aisle looking at the baking items on the shelf, holding onto the trolley he had insisted they got. Robyn normally used a basket or a re-useable shopping bag, rather than a trolley but Taron quickly routed through his pockets for some change so he could pop a euro into the slot to free a trolley.

“Robyn, he has been at your house now for a week, surely you have seen some sort of hot pants style outer garments.”

Robyn ended the call with her friend and walked over to Taron. “You don’t need to put the icing in Taron. We will make our own.”

“Let’s keep it.” He said taking it from Robyn’s hands as she went to put it back on the shelf.

“Taron, we don’t need chocolate icing. We are going to make some vanilla icing.”

He threw the pot of chocolate buttercream back into the trolley. “So, then we do need it.”

Robyn looked to the phone that was ringing in her hands again. As they walked around the shop, Robyn’s phone had rung, her friend from Florida a little worried that she hadn’t heard from her in over a week. She filled the American in quickly and when Maggie had heard that Taron had arrived at Robyn’s house, she couldn’t help but utter the words hots pants.

“I am sorry. Don’t hang up on me again.”

Robyn followed Taron as he wheeled the trolley, rolling her eyes as he took random items from the shelf and put them in the trolley.

“Then let’s have a nice low-key conversation Maggie and a quick one. I need to stop Taron from buying the whole coffee section. Taron, we don’t need coffee beans.” She said as she put them back on the shelf, after he had put them in the trolley.

“Robyn?”

“Sorry Maggie, Taron is… Taron!” Robyn walked into him as he stopped. “We don’t need those coffee beans either! Sorry Maggie.”

As the bruising on his face had finally started to fade a little, when Taron grinned widely, it just made him look like a cheeky little boy up to no good.

“But coffee?” He said innocently.

Robyn grabbed his right hand. “Maggie I am going to have to call you back.” She ended the call and pushed the phone into her jeans pocket.

“Coffee?” Asked Taron again, laughing as Robyn sighed. “Ok ok! I am sorry!” He swung his arm around Robyn’s waist. “I will be good I promise. I promise.” He kissed her hair. “I will push the trolley and you can put the shopping in.”

Robyn looked in the trolley. “You do realise I live alone right? I don’t need most of this stuff and we only came in for the surprises for the cake.”

“So, we can’t put jam inside the cake?” Asked Taron.

“We can put the jam on some toast but not on the cake.” She walked back to the baking shelf. “We can put these icing shapes inside and sugar strands and this unicorn confetti.” She handed the items to Taron and he put them in the trolley. “Now follow me.” She walked him around to the sweet aisle. “Jellies can go inside as well as chocolate buttons, white and milk and popping candy.”

Taron took everything from Robyn as she handed them to her. “These will stick to jam.”

“Hence why we don’t put jam inside the cake Taron. When you cut the cake, all the stuff inside will tumble out and that’s the surprise.”

“I knew that.” He said as he pulled a packet of Jelly Babies from the shelf. “I just like jam on stuff.” Taron turned to look at Robyn. “You are going to put me in time out, aren’t you?” He said, her face not giving away anything except maybe a slight annoyance, but as she stood with her hands on her hips, his stomach flipped with those butterflies he had been experiencing all week.

“I don’t put kids in time out but there are consequences for unwanted behaviour.”

“Consequences?” He asked, stepping closer to her. “Such as?”

“No baking, head massage or cookies.” Robyn folded her arms over her chest. “Taron! Quit it!” He had reached around her and pulled three bars of chocolate off the shelf and they fell straight into the trolley behind her. “Jesus I should have had another coffee.” Robyn ran her hands through her hair and looked at him. “Do you want to sleep outside tonight?”

Taron chuckled. “You would never.”

“You think you know me Taron but really, do you? Do you?”

Another wonderful laugh filled his body. “I can go to your parents’ house.”

It was too hard to stay even slightly frustrated with him, especially when his eyes creased at the side and his beautiful dimples appeared when his smile filled his whole face or even more so when he initiated a hug so warm and tight, it made her smile wide.

“Can we keep the chocolate please? I absolutely promise I will be good and listen. I am sorry. You know I love you.” Taron stopped for a second when he realised what he said but quickly continued. “Today, so far, has been perfect and sometimes I just get giddy, maybe a little too giddy.”

“I like you giddy.” She admitted. “I like it because I have seen it when you are not giddy and I don’t like that so stay giddy Taron.” She moved away a little from him but her arms were still around his waist. “Always stay giddy.” Taron winked at her. “You’re such a fucking messer.” She added when his smile turned to a smirk, her own face giving into a smile as his eyes sparkled in the lights of the store.

Taron gave her another squeeze and a soft kiss again on her head. “So, what else does this cake need?”

They made it back to Robyn’s house in one piece, Taron being very well behaved and once again insisting he paid for the groceries. “To be fair, you only wanted about five things in here so let me pay.” He helped her to pack away everything too, both leaving out the ingredients to bake the cake with.

“Do you need the recipe book?” Asked Taron as he pulled his hoodie off with a little struggle as the stretch hurt a bit. He threw it on the couch and walked to the island where Robyn had moved her kitchen aid too so they would have more space.

“Nope. I know this recipe off.” She quickly tied her hair up in a loose high pony tail. “Ok so first things first, let’s line the baking tins.”

“First things first, music.” Corrected Taron. “Hey Alexa play The Script.”

“Ohh good choice.”

“I saw they were on your spotify library.”

“Good Irish band.”

“Right so baking tins.”

Robyn showed Taron how to line the first of the seven baking tins and he easily helped to line the remaining six with her.

“Pre-heat oven to one eighty.” She instructed. “And now we weigh all the ingredients.”

It was a baking partnership that worked very well, just as everything else they did together and quickly they had the all the cake batter mixing.

“That is a lot of cake.”

“We have a lot of cakes to make, which by way, what on earth are me and you going to do with a seven-layer rainbow cake?”

“Eat it?” Answered Taron slowly.

“A seven-layer cake?”

“Ok eat some of it.”

Robyn flicked some flour Taron’s way as she shook her head, only to feel something hit her arm. She looked at him but he had found something to stare at on the ceiling so she flung some more flour at him, the white powder leaving obvious traces on his black t-shirt.

“Are you really going to start this?” He asked, finally looking to her.

“Yes I am.” She replied throwing a handful of flour his way, Taron looking down as it hit his chest.

“You are really going to start this.” He asked again stepping closer to her, his own hand creeping into the bag of sugar beside him. “This terrible cliched scene of throwing flour at each other.”

“Why not.” She said cupping some more flour and chucking it at him, his right arm now white and dusty.

“Robyn…” He started but stopped when more flour hit the crotch of his jeans. “That was a low blow.” He smiled.

“No, this is a low blow.” She said taking three quick steps closer to him and landing a pile of flour on his head, fluffing his hair. “Feel like a head massage?” She asked.

“Do you?” He asked as he held onto her left arm and sprinkle the sugar in his hand onto her head.

Laughter, shouts and squeals filled the air as a full on flour and sugar war ensued, neither holding back, Taron taking advantage of his strength at one point holding Robyn firm around her waist as he buried his hand into the bag of flour and dipped his hand behind the neck of t-shirt, dropping the flour down her back. She managed to squirm her way out as and retaliated by dumping the whole bag of sugar over his head. Luckily Robyn knew where she kept the spare bags of flour and while Taron brushed sugar from his face, she pulled a second bag from the press and opened it quickly, getting two hands inside, flinging it towards Taron again.

“Shit where did you get that!”

“I shall never tell my secrets!” Laughed Robyn as she pulled two more handfuls from the bag but once again Taron grabbed her tightly and even as she tried to throw the flour at him over her shoulder, it mostly went on her, both in stitches as white dust filled Robyn’s kitchen, the kitchen aid and music still going in the background.

Lifting Robyn a little so he could walk, Taron managed to get to the bag of flour she had found and got his left hand into it. Robyn grabbed his hand, doing her best to keep it at arm’s length and while shaking his hand, Taron’s aim missed as went to throw it at her.

“Another bites the dust!” She sang as Taron let her go. She moved quickly to pick up the bag of flour, holding it in her hands.

He took two strides towards her and pulled on the paper packaging at the same time as Robyn threw the bag at him but with both of their hands on the bag, it went up rather towards Taron, flour spilling over the two of them like a shower of water. Robyn still had some of the ripped paper in her hands and took a step to throw it at Taron, but lost her footing and slipped on the flour on the tiled floor and fell hard onto the ground her left shoulder hitting the floor first before she lay flat in the white mess on the floor.

“Shit Robyn!” Taron got to his knees and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Are you ok?”

It wasn’t the answer he was expecting but Robyn started to laugh and laugh hard, her whole body shaking as she giggled. When she opened her eyes and looked at Taron, she laughed even harder, Taron quickly joining her as he sat back on his heels.

“Seriously though, are you ok?” He asked.

“Yeah I am good.” Robyn moved to sit up, rolling her left shoulder a little. “Ow.” She said quietly giggling a little. “That was karma coming to bite me for starting this.”

“This?” Taron looked around the kitchen. “This was fun. I enjoyed this.” He blew on his nose as Robyn picked up a pinch of flour from the floor and tossed it at him.

“Oh no your head.” Robyn gently brushed some flour from Taron’s forehead, his face wincing a little. “Probably not the best to have flour in there.” She said as, as she move his hair away, Taron closing his eyes as some loose flour fell down onto his face. “Are you ok? Lots of quick movements there. Your ribs ok?”

He opened his eyes and smiled. “I am good. Just a twinge.” He gentled rubbed his side and looked at the mess around them “This was my consequence for my behaviour in the shop, wasn’t it?”

Robyn chuckled. “No. This was just me deciding to be giddy. I saw the flour and just went for it. Knew you would play along and you played along beautifully. You are destroyed in flour and sugar.” She giggled again as she pulled his t-shirt away from his chest and let it bounce back, powder residue floating in the air.

“You are too.” Taron pulled his phone from his pocket. “This needs to go on the wall.” He moved so he was sitting beside her and with a bit of trouble as his hands were covered in flour, finally got his phone unlocked and opening the camera, switched it to selfie mode and took a number of pictures of the two. “We will print them later.” Taron pushed his phone back into his jeans. “You sure you are ok? You hit the ground pretty hard and that’s your sore shoulder.”

“Yeah I am good.” She rolled her shoulder again. “Ugh ow.”

Taron shuffled over to the fridge and pulled open the freezer. He grabbed a pack of frozen fruit from one of the drawers before he closed the door again. He moved back to Robyn and knelt beside her. “Here.” He placed the cold plastic on her left shoulder. “Ice helps right?”

“Yeah ice helps. Thanks Taron.”

“So you really followed through the cheesy movie moment huh?” He asked holding the frozen fruit.

“I saw an opportunity and I ran with it.” She answered enjoying how the cold from the plastic bag on her shoulder eased the slight heat of pain she felt.

“Ran wild with it Robyn.”

“Too be fair I did say we would start this when it wouldn’t hurt you too much the day we made the apple crumble when you started this whole thing.”

Taron grinned. “Yes that is true, I suppose in a round about way.”

“So it really is your fault that this whole thing happened.”

“You are going to try and twist it that way?”

“I am.” She enjoyed how he laughed, laughing herself as more flour floated from him as his body moved. “Are you sure you’re ok?” She asked again. “This hasn’t hurt you has it?”

“No I am good. No more than usual.”

“Well well well, what do we have here?” Taron and Robyn looked and saw someone standing behind the breakfast bar. “Robyn Quinn, what on earth have you and this beautiful man in your kitchen been up too?”

Robyn turned to look at Taron but he spoke before she did. “Claire?”

“Claire.” She confirmed.

Robyn had spoken about her best friend to Taron a lot as they got to know each other, so Taron didn’t need an introduction.

“I can go. You two look like you are in the middle of something.”

“Taron spilt some flour.” Said Robyn. “He’s quite messy!”

Taron chuckled with her and slowly got to his feet, holding out his left hand to help Robyn to her up, putting the frozen fruit on the island.

“Some flour?” Asked Claire as she walked to the edge of the island watching as Taron pulled her friend up. “Some flour? Robyn your kitchen is a state!”

“Meh.”

“Meh? What have you done with my friend?” Asked Claire as she watched the two try to brush themselves down. She had knocked on the door but as usual Robyn hadn’t heard, so she opened the door, letting herself in to see her best friend and the man she had teased her about over a week ago, throwing flour at each other laughing hysterically.

“Believe it or not...” Said Taron as he bent his head over and ruffled his hair, lots of flour and sugar falling to the ground. “Robyn started it.”

“My bad.” Robyn turned the kitchen aid off. “Our cakes might be over mixed now. Woops.”

Taron stood beside her and dipped his finger in the cake batter and tasted it. “Nope. All good.”

“So, you two have been up to all sorts then?” Asked Claire as she pulled a stool over to the side of the island that wasn’t covered in flour.

“This and that.” Replied Robyn, looking at her friend. “Claire this is Taron, Taron, Claire.”

Taron moved around to hold his hand out to shake her hand. “Eh no thank you. I shall wait until you are not covered in flour.”

Taron looked to his arms. “Yeah I might go and wash this off.”

“Oh no you don’t. We need to make this cake before this batter deflates.”

“Seriously?” Asked Taron as Robyn started to pull some large bowls from the bottom press and hand them to him.

“Yes, seriously Taron. It will take us five minutes to finish. You wanted to make the rainbow surprise cake. Claire you mind?”

“Not at all. You continue on. I am going to watch with great amusement.”

Robyn gave Taron another two bowls and he set them on the counter. She joined him with a weighing scales and turned to ask him to get her a spoon when she stopped. “I might just clean your head first Taron. Really didn’t think about that wound when I threw the flour.” Robyn took a clean tea-towel from the drawer and fully drenched it with warm water at the sink before squeezing the water out. She motioned Taron over to her and he did as she asked, allowing Robyn to gently wash the flour from his head, closing his eyes as it stung a little. “Ok that’s better. Just to be sure. Now cake.”

Claire watched on with grin as her friend gently cleaned Taron’s forehead, keeping her right hand on his left jaw and didn’t miss how she rubbed his left cheek with her thumb as she did so, Taron’s eyes on her the whole time unless Robyn hit a sensitive part of his forehead. Claire couldn’t wait to get Robyn alone so she could talk to her.

Quickly, Robyn weighed out the batter and divided it into the seven waiting bowls. She gave Taron the red, orange and yellow food colouring to mix into the batter while she mixed the other colours. They poured the batter into the prepared tins and popped them all into Robyn’s oven.

“Done.” Smiled Taron holding his hands up for a double high five from Robyn, which she gave him laughing. “Now can I go and shower? I am all itchy from the flour.”

“You’re itchy? You threw a handful down my back!”

Taron grinned. “Yes, I did.”

“Go. Go and shower. I will clean up here.”

“Oh no, I will help you clean up first.”

“Taron it’s ok. I can…”

“…. We made the mess together. I will help you.”

“Jesus you two are like an old married couple.” Claire said. “I am going to go and sit on that couch until this place is clean. You continue to argue over it.”

“Two of us together.”

It took Robyn and Taron fifteen minutes to clean up the kitchen, and when they were finished the cakes were ready to come out of the oven too.

“Look at the colours of those!” Smiled Taron. “Proper rainbow.” He helped Robyn to carefully take the cakes out of the tins and lay them on cooling racks. “Now I am going to shower, unless you want to go first.”

“No, you go ahead. I think Claire wants to have a chat.”

“Might take a few extra minutes then.” He said. He had a feeling he was going to be the main topic of conversation between the two friends.

“If you go through the laundry room, you can grab clean towels on the way to the bathroom. Just throw your clothes into the laundry basket in the bathroom. I will wash them with mine later on.”

Taron nodded and followed her advice, closing the bathroom door behind him.

“Is this his?” Asked Claire as she walked back into the kitchen holding Taron’s grey hoodie.

“Yep.”

“Have you smelt this? It smells divine. Although, you do have the real thing. You can always smell him.”

“Claire! At least wait until you hear the shower running before you start talking about him and no, I don’t tend to go around smelling my guests or their clothes.”

“Maybe not but you make flirty goggley eyes at him though. I saw the way you two looked at each other when you were cleaning his head.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Repeated Claire. “So…”

“And here you go with this whole ‘so’ thing. My mother did the same thing when we went to dinner.”

“You brought Taron to dinner at your parents?”

“My mam happened to walk in on us having breakfast last weekend and invited us.”

“And…”

“Ugh here we go again. And what?” Claire wiggled her eyebrows, while Robyn rolled her eyes. “So, men and woman can’t be friends now, no?”

“Friends? Friends who have a flour fight while laughing and giggling and just move so close around each other. Seriously, you two are nearly glued at the hip.”

“Whatever Claire.”

“Don’t whatever me Robyn. I see a spark.”

“No what you see are two people who finally feel free from their horrific experience and are enjoying their time together. It’s the first day I have heard him laugh like that. I mean I have heard him laugh but not like that, like for the first time, he doesn’t have the weight of who he is on his shoulders. He hasn’t stopped smiling all day. It was a very different story four days ago and it wasn’t like this last week when he arrived. It might look like all fun and sunshine and yeah most of the time now it is but it hasn’t been. It’s been fucking hard Claire and what you see might be a connection but it’s a connection that sprung from a shocking incident, one that still haunts us both, even though we talk about it every day.”

“You really saved his life.” Robyn nodded. “Seriously, though smell this hoodie. It’s gorgeous. Ok, ok! Sorry, sorry.” Claire walked around the island when she saw her friend’s eyebrows furrow deeply. “When you are not covered in flour, I will hug you. I can’t say I understand what you have been through because I know I won’t be able to but I can try to understand why you both have that connection. You’re friends for life Robyn, a life that he has because of you but I still believe there is a spark. Don’t roll your eyes at me. It’s there.”

“You know what I am going to say.”

“Yeah I do, so don’t. I am glad he came to see you Robyn.”

“Me too.”

“Seriously who are you and what have you done with my stubborn and pig-headed Robyn?”

“She is still here but has learnt it is good to let others in and share your problems.”

“I like him.”

“As does everyone else who has met him. Just my parents and Emma.” Replied Robyn.

“And me.” When her friend smiled sadly, Claire picking up on the change in mood. “Oh dear, what’s that smile for.”

“Just thinking about how quiet this place will be when he goes home.” Robyn stalled for a second when Claire pulled her in for a hug. “What about the flour?”

“I don’t care. You need a hug. Have you talked to him about it yet?”

“Nope.”

“Robyn has he even been home to his home and family?”

“Nope. He came straight to me from Florida.”

“I definitely like him.” Claire hugged her friend tight. “It’s not going to be an easy good bye is it?”

“Nope. I know it has to be done but we have this little bubble around us. Just us.”

“Want me to tell you what I have read on social media?” Asked Claire as she ended the hug.

“Nope.”

“No? It might be as bad as you think it is.”

“No. I don’t want to know. Taron’s publicist Lyndsey has told us not to look and I haven’t. When Taron goes home to Wales, he is going to make a press statement about what happened and ask for our privacy to be respected.”

“You’re going to be famous.”

“I am going to be slaughtered by his fans.”

“Or praised for saving his life. Taron is used to this stuff Robyn. You trust him?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then trust he knows what he is doing when he goes home.”

“I do.”

“Think you will get to go to a movie premier with him?”

Robyn laughed. “Not that I would ever want to but he has already offered.”

“What?”

“We made a deal in the 7/11 that we would have sing off but he is trying to back out. Saw the DVD’s of the musical society.”

“Scaramouche?”

“Yep.”

“Good he needs to be scared. I know he can sing, but you can sing Freddie.”

The girls laughed with each other.

“Robyn talk to him. If you are feeling worried about saying goodbye then you know he has to be too. Imagine how he feels having to leave this protective little home you’ve made for him. It’s Taron who has to go back into the press and media. I’d imagine it’s going to be a lot harder for him.”

Robyn nodded. Taron had already briefly approached the subject of staying with her forever and while she could somewhat hide in her home, Taron had to go back to work eventually and complete many promotional tours, more than likely being asked the same questions over and over.

“Shower is all yours.”

Both girls looked Taron’s way as he walked back into the kitchen, dressed in a black pair of jeans and a white t-shirt.

“Great. You be nice to him.” Robyn pointed her finger at Claire. “I am serious Claire. I will tell him what you have just been doing.”

Taron looked from Robyn to Claire. “What did I miss?”

“Taron, tea? Coffee?” Asked Claire as she pushed his hoodie discreetly across the island.

“Good girl. Just yell if you need saving.”

“And you’ll come running in your nudey nudes?” Laughed Taron.

“To save you from an interrogation, yes I would. Be nice and don’t touch the cakes yet Taron. We still have to make the icing.”

Robyn walked to the bathroom in through the laundry room grabbing two clean towels along the way, closing both doors behind her. Taron had thrown his clothes in the hamper like she had asked him too, along with the towels he had used and when she stepped under the water, she saw that he had fixed her toiletries so her shampoo was once again to her left. Without hesitation she switched them back. She could easily get used to it the way Taron had put it. Letting the water run over her face, Robyn sighed. Their day had been perfect and once Claire left; Robyn knew she was going to ruin it by bringing up the conversation of Taron going home.

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