#his wardrobe is just baggy clothes ugh

[aweina]

ᥫ᭡. your name , mike schmidt ( suggestive )

say my name until you lose your breath …

tags gn reader. established relationship. fluff. kind of self-indulgent. teasing. mike + sleeper build combo.

“it hurts mike.”

your body was shaking like a withered leaf — limbs tense with a burning sensation.

“yeah?” he tilts his head a bit, a sadistic twinkle in his eyes.

you couldn’t last long anymore.

“yes! it feels like i’m gonna – ”

your poor face nearly slaps against the cold wooden floor if it weren’t for mike’s rough hand breaking your fall. he saved you from an embarrassing bruise that you would’ve had to heal for a week — what an angel. but even then, you let out a muffled painful cry against the wooden floors. the nonexistent muscles sculpted on your arms ached, the wind in your lungs struggling to spill out from your lips.

mike shakes his head as he soothes your forehead with a sweet brush of his thumb, back against the edge of his undone bed.

“i still can’t believe you can’t do push-ups.” there was a playful condescending tone in his voice that you couldn’t be mad at because he sounded hot.

you lifted your head, an exaggerated pout on your face. mike smiles at that, tracing his hand over your chin to tilt your gaze towards his. a hue of green and gold in his brown eyes — a little detail you loved about him.

“physical education was my lowest grade you know.”

the gruesome memories of being cruelly yelled at for not participating in group activities or the echoing of shallow cheers during the mile, you being the last person standing. yeah, not a great time.

“really now?” he asks with feigned surprise — a quirk in his brow.

you glared at him, getting up with wobbly feet and nearly toppling over. mike catches your fall again, gently guiding you on the bed. it was a little embarrassing, but he didn’t seem to complain.

“yes, mr. high school footballer.” now it’s mike’s turn to roll his eyes at your teasing, taking a seat back on the cold wooden floor.

what you would’ve done to see him in a football uniform — now stuffed in the depths of his mundane closet. not long ago, you happen to see crinkled photos stuffed in the drawers, old high school photos of mike. a youthful glow to his face, the curls in his dark hair longer, strong arms sadly covered in the sleeves of his jersey. high school you would’ve fawn over him, you’d like to also think he would with you — through the bulky clothes and thick framed glasses.

“whatever. i’ll show you how it’s done.”

a lazy hum vibrates your throat as you carefully watch mike stand up, stretching out his muscles just like he always did. the same sneak peek of his coarse happy trail never failed to make your heart skip a beat, letting out the same tired yawn with a lousy scratch through his messy locks. you tuck yourself in his soft sheets, the comforting smell of warm cotton and woodsy cologne nearly lulling you back into a doze.

every morning, he would do push-ups like this. you’d have an empty space beside your sleeping form, panic filling your heart. it’s then you hear deep grunts, the noise making you blank out with a blush — until you look over and see him in his third set of push-ups. dripping sweat sticking between his skin and the thin fabric of his t-shirt. mike subconsciously coerced you into waking up early. with the sun still beneath the clouds, you check him out while you’re smothered under the sheets he tossed on top of you. conversing about what you’ll do that day, what you wanted for breakfast, who’s turn to wake up abby.

if it weren’t for his deep breathing and quiet groans, you wouldn’t have to be so aroused every morning — like now.

planting his palms flat and arms extended towards the freezing floor, mike‘s position was much more stable and proper that you were attempting to replicate. his upper body bobs up and down, bare feet perfectly planted on the ground. you quietly admire mike’s hidden physique, counting each push-up with a whisper. his elbows barely buckle with each bend, keeping a steady pace without breaking a sweat. completely in contrast from the suggestive noises spilling from his soft lips, breathless and sweetening.

“say my name.”

he stops mid push-up, a confused look written all over his flushed face.

“i … w – what?” from how winded he was, his confusion sounded like a low whine — the familiarity leading back to this exact bed.

“say my name while you do push-ups.” beneath the sheets, you hid a sly smirk — the wink of sleep long gone from the excitement bubbling in your chest.

“yeah … okay sure baby.” mike’s genuine cluelessness was laughable. his doe eyes was unmistakably innocent, naturally obedient to your command.

now every completed push-up he executed perfectly was tied with a sweet tune of your name. the quiver in his voice was sweetly addicting. a breathless drawl drags at the end of your name — tired hiccups escaping his throat. reaching towards his limit, he growls your name with each grunt. how does he not notice how he sounds? fuck, he sounded so cute yet so possessive, but you refrained yourself from throwing yourself at him.

with one last bend to his arms, your name comes out as a desperate whimper. hot panting forced through his lips, drips of sweat running down his brow bone. mike crashes back beside the edge of the bed, his head bent back to the plush mattress. you gaze down at him with a soft smile, brushing away the damp strands of hair — still snug under the warm covers that combat the biting cold of the early morning.

“i know why you asked now.” mike mumbles tiredly, reaching up with aching arms to brush your hair in return. a cocky smile on his face.

“i was wondering when you’ll catch up.” you press a soft kiss on his lips, another on his dampened temple.

“you have a dirty mind, you know that?” mike blushes at the showers of kisses, chuckling at your little perverted plan.

“yeah i do. now do it with your football jersey.” he rolls his eyes the second time this morning, sneaking in a warm kiss on your chin before he stands up — cracking his tense neck with a hard tilt of his head.

“or i’ll just get myself a glass of water.” mike jested with a dry strain to his throat, taking your soft hands and tugging you on your feet.

you happily held his hand. both of your bare footsteps pattering through the cold, darkened hallway — careful not to wake up abby from her room.

“orrrr you can take a shower with me?” you suggestively whispered in the shell of his ear, nearly wrapping yourself on his aching arm — barely irked by the fabric draped on his shoulders that was dosed in sweat.

mike grinned in amusement, knowing you both already shared the shower during early, much more rushed mornings.

although, it never hurt to hear it from your lips.

“yeah sure baby.” his voice deep and rich in your ear, pecking a gentle kiss on your bed hair.

mike guided you both to the dimly lit kitchen, a sickly flirty exchange stuffed the cold hallway — quiet mumbles and fleeting touches.

besides the discipline he puts himself through every cold morning, mike learned to love them, especially when you’re there to admire him — despite the fact you would pretend to be asleep. he knows, but he likes to play your game every now and then.

add. note : okay i’m extremely unathletic, so i hope someone reading relates too. and can you tell that i got this idea from tiktok … (￣ ￣|||)

#.୨୧ ina writes #.purple mark #mike lowkey a lil shit #his wardrobe is just baggy clothes ugh #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt #fnaf movie x reader #josh hutcherson

[blue--ingenue]

soft!sebastian headcannons - part 7

Author's Note: i promise i'm not dead ya'll 😭 college has just been kicking my ass, and then i got covid and had to leave campus for a week, and just, ugh. i personally have adhd, and i swear this boy has it on some level

understimulation is painful. many people think he’s restless and impulsive in class, but that’s just because the class isn’t engaging enough. Binns’ lectures are the worst. he finds history fascinating, but would much rather hold artifacts and visit historic sites than listen to someone else drone on about them

overstimulation is hell. when he’s already stressed creaking chairs, students talking over professors, and every scratch of a quill push him further and further into sensory overload. if it’s too much, he’ll skip his next class and lie down in the undercroft until he feels better

huge fan of oversized clothes. he’ll usually wear his typical robe and uniform to class, but changes into comfortable clothes to help him relax after a full day of lectures. his go-to is a baggy, forest-green, cable-knit sweater. it falls nearly to his knees and the sleeves pool around his wrists (these are especially useful for handling steaming mugs of tea and coffee during late-night study sessions)

he often falls asleep on the couch in front of the fireplace. it’s usually unoccupied (most Slytherins claim that it does nothing to chase away the permanent chill in the common room, so they avoid it). when he forgets to bring a blanket (which is always), he’ll simply curl up and tuck his knees in so that the sweater shields him from the cold. other times he’ll fall asleep wearing it over his pajamas and wake up, bleary-eyed and yawning with sleep-tousled hair, and the sweater swallowing his form looking like a kid who had just raided his parents’ wardrobe 

he’s an incredibly fast reader. he finishes assigned readings weeks before they’re due if they interest him enough 

easily loses track of time for hours on end. when he was looking for a cure for Anne, he could spend an entire day sifting through the books he pilfered from the restricted section. once Rookwood was killed and her curse lifted, he devotes his time to whatever tickles his fancy

his attention to detail leads him to have a uniquely analytical mind. he’s able to see connections between concepts and facts that most other students, and some professors, don’t realize. this skill is one of many reasons his professors encourage him to become a scholar after graduation

.

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Taglist:@mlktea13, @mrsbrookesallow, @ithinkweallsing, @snickette, @crispywiz

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow #adhd #angst #fluff

[mouse-fantoms]

Absolutely one asked for this but I wanna say what all my favorite outfits are per character is bc I can!

First up, Miss Julie herself, the other day I said I can’t get over how pretty she is in this look so this isn’t that much of a surprise but I mean,

The shade of blue is so pretty on her and the illustration on her shirt is so cute. What also makes this look get double points too from me is bc of the whole how at the start Julie is in baggy clothes bc it’s a reflection of like her grief and where she is with it but then as the episodes continue her clothes get more personalized and like less baggy idk it’s just such a nice little detail and this is such a cute outfit to have be in the last episode for Julie that reflects where she is now with her grief since the boys are in her life now.

My absolute favorite Luke outfit is his llama jacket look,

You’re just used to seeing him in the black background color graphic tees with him and so to see him in this like lighter version of his wardrobe is nice. This one is also my favorite of his lil llama jacket 🥺 observe,

He’s got a llama on his pocket therefore it’s his llama jacket. Also too the jacket just looks so cozy, I mean all his jackets look incredibly comfortable (LOOKIN AT YOU SAD FLANNEL) but it’s easier to see the like individual like threads of it bc it’s white it just looks extra cozy.

My favorite Reggie outfit has to be this variation of his wardrobe,

Don’t get me started on the little detail that it’s implied through his outfits that he’s only got a couple things he can wear bc he always like reusing different things from his other outfits like he only has a rotation of a few things (that is a detail that implies so much about his character and like background of him and ugh I just love it but again don’t get me started). The white t-shirt with his red flannel just is like yes a basic look but idk he just suits it really well. (I love too how his belt matches his bass strap we love the coordination)

Call me basic but I love Alex’s debut outfit that we see,

Again he also just looks cozy with the hoodie and then also the denim material like jacket over it, I like the layering of it and like the distressed part of the jacket adds to it like it’s a good look, it makes it interesting to look at bc of the distress-ness in it. I like that he wears his Fanny pack across his body it’s a good look for him.

Naturally after Alex we have to discuss Willie, I love his lil sweater paws outfit,

This look of his is the closest to my personal choice of wardrobe so that’s probably why I like it as much as I do 😂 that hoodie just looks so comfy and oversized on him. To me too, him having this hoodie just implies that like Alex and him can share their hoodies WHICH IS JUST ADORABLE

My favorite Carrie fit is her like lounging at home look,

THE COLORS OF HER JACKET ARE SO GOOD TOGETHER AND THE DESIGN IS LIKE A SCRIBBLE LOOKING PATTERN ITS SO CUTE AND THEN HER SHIRT SAYS ROYALTY LIKE WHAT A QUEEN MOVE

…ahem

The colors of this one just compliment really well together and I like her shirt, it’s very Carrie of her. This also does indeed give the feeling of an outfit you’d wear to just like relax in.

Lastly, hear me out on this one for Nick,

I like the coordination of hat that matches his hoodie. Like he put thought into at least what hat he’d wear with this which I respect. And like again the hoodie with his jean jacket he just looks warm and comfy in it (Also he doesn’t have that many outfit options compared to how many the others had but this is my top out of them all for his)

#I just Ike looking coziness and feelin cozy is what we’ve gathered here today I think 🥰 #I mean my own personal style is just like graphic tees and hoodies to express my interests so maybe that adds up to why certain looks are #my favorite when it comes to them #jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp netflix #julie molina #luke patterson #reggie molina #reggie peters #alex mercer #carrie wilson #jatp Nick #jatp Carrie

[rowretro]

𝕆𝕙 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪

WARNINGS: mentions of transitioning.

✧taglist✧:  @nikisdubblchococake @enhypensccstarlight @strawbsj @nikipedia07 @certified-ni-ki-lover

✧CHAPTER 9✧

Y/n groaned as she woke up, the teacher still yelling at the class to quiet down while she tried to get a peaceful nap. The girl hired a babysitter for the baby, while she and Riki were at school. “Y/n you free after school?” Sungchan asked with a bright smile as the girl smiled back at him “Y-” “No, she isn’t. I’m tutoring her afterschool. Remember y/n?” Riki cut her off as she groaned. “Maybe after tutoring,” she said as Sungchan shrugged, nodding before walking off. The girl smiled as Riki rolled his eyes at the duo.

Y/n was peacefully writing as Riki looked over her shoulder. The two are now home, stuck with each other yet again. Who knew a trouble maker like Riki actually got high grades in literature? Well y/n didn’t but now she does, she’s regretting her life decisions. “No no no, you got it all wrong again dumbass!” Riki said, flicking her forehead as she whined. “No, I can't do this anymore. I give up! I don’t care if I fail, I'm just not putting up with your bullshit I beg!” she yelled, sighing as she left the table. 

Riki snickered at her actions, maybe finding it somewhat cute. “I'm gonna go out” she said as the male frowned, turning to the baby. There was no way he was letting you go out with Sungchan. Never in a million years. He was manifesting in his head, for the baby to cry. It seems there was no need. You immediately slammed the door, rushing around to clean things away. “RIKI HIDE THE BABY QUICK- A-AND HIDE YOURSELF-” she exclaimed.

Lucky for her Sunoo had installed a hideout behind his closet, so she hid the baby there, safe, breathable, and no one will know.Riki blinked. Was Sunoo already back? No way, he’s literally in a completely different country taking pictures. “ARE YOU DEAF?! I SAID HIDE!” she screamed as Riki ran off to hide somewhere. Y/n nervously laughed as she opened the door. “Auntieee~” she called with a smile as the woman entered, her eyes scanning the room.

“Huh, you sure do make a lot of noise when you’re home alone, all the neighbors keep complaining you know?” The woman said, Riki frowned, wondering who it was, perhaps the landlord? “Well they always need gossip- and well you visit very rarely, they probably assumed that you will be strict with me or something-” Y/n shrugged as the woman walked in, examining the room. “Ugh- you still motorbike? Didn’t Sunoo ban that thing from you?” the woman asked as Y/n rolled her eyes.

“Of course- it’s your business… but why such a massive boy-ish leather jacket?... I mean no way that fits you-” he auntie said as Y/n scratched her scalp. “U-Uh- well I ordered it off of online- and baggy clothes are in right now you know?” y/n explained as Riki snickered a little. The woman frowned, as she put it on her. The poor girl tried not to visibly retch at the stench of Riki’s sweat. “Put it on I want to see!” she exclaimed.

Forcing a smile, she slipped on the jacket, Riki smirked, hearing the commotion, of course he knew how sweaty it was. “Wow… fashion these days is really uhm… interesting?” the woman said before walking deeper into the building. “Mens spray?... Sunoo doesn’t use thai brand-” the woman frowned “I-It’s a nice scent- y’know? I use it-” she explained as the woman blinked, frowning when she went upstairs.

 A pair of boxers, and one of Riki’s sweaters on her bed. “Boys clothes?... Y/n do you have something to tell me?” the woman asked. “Huh? Wha- no-” she blinked as her auntie sighed “Y’know, I’m a very hip auntie, if you’re transitioning you can tell me” “What?! No- no im a woman- this is just- just-” “Ahh I see… you had a friend over hmm? Fine I won’t tell Sunoo but I hope you’re staying safe. Your mother was pretty wild at your age, its why Sunoo exists now-” the woman said as Y/n sighed.

The woman then opened the wardrobe, her eyes meeting the very eyes of Riki. “Oh another door here? It seems you have a visitor y/n-” the woman said as Riki awkwardly waved. Then it clicked. She glanced at Riki who was in his comfortable clothes, and at Y/n then nodded. “I see I see… just uh- use protection kids? Stay safe, love is great but you should know to stay safe- living together isn’t always the best thing- but uh if you know what you’re doing then great!” the woman mumbled, clearly shocked as she left the building. 

Y/n started to run after her “AUNTIE IT’S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE- HE’S JUST HELPINF- MHMHMH MHMHM HMHMH HMMMM!” Y/n yelled, her words getting cut off halfway by Riki’s palm pressing against her mouth “What are you doing idiot?!!!” Riki asked, annoyed. “I'M GOING TO TELL HER EVERYTHING- SHE THINKS SOMETHING WEIRD” Y/n said as Riki flicked her forehead “And ruin everything we worked for?! Idiot. Just let her assume, until we figure out what to do with your life and the baby, just shut up” Riki simply said as the girl sighed.

✧𝕆𝕙 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪✧

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen ff #enha x reader #enhypen niki ff #enhypen niki #enhypen x reader #ni ki #riki nishimura x reader #nishimura niki #enhypen nishimura riki #engene #nishimura riki #riki nishimura #enhypen angst #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff #enhypen niki angst #enhypen riki #ni ki enhypen #niki enhypen #mafia enhypen #mafia au #drug lord #bloody sweet #enhypen au #niki reaction

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Come As You Are

Summary: Dean takes Y/n dress shopping for a hunt, both of them blissfully unaware of where it will lead. 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 3.9K+

Warnings: Language, self-esteem and body image struggles, public intercourse, unprotected intercourse (wrap it before you tap it)

Author’s Note: This was written for an anonymous request, 

“Hey babe I don’t know if your taking requests but I had a groovy idea dean x shy plus reader where they have to get the reader nice sexy clothes but she feels really uncomfortable in them and refuses to leave the dressing room and dean confess how he feels and they have sex in the dressing room ? Fluff and smut” 

I truly enjoyed writing it so I hope it lives up to your expectations anon. Remember, feedback is like crack to writers, and we always love to hear what you thought xoxo Alex

Consider checking out a book from Alexandra’s Library!

A frown etched itself on her face as she ran her hand over the fabrics hanging from the racks. All of it felt foreign underneath her fingertips. Satin, chiffon, and everything else that was far more expensive than she was used to. Y/n’s wardrobe mostly consisted of denim and polyester blends that tended to fray after two washes. It was all that a hunter could afford, after all. 

“How in the hell are we gonna afford any of this crap?” She whispered to Dean, who was eyeing the rack behind her, the gowns in front of him all a deep shade of red. 

“Charlie’s miracle card, remember? There is no limit,” Dean raised his brow at her, a grin etched across his perfect face. 

“Fine,” she groaned. “I still don’t see why I even need to go dress shopping, I’m sure I could find something in my closet.” 

“I’ve seen your closet, and none of it is right for this case. You’ve got to distract the coroner for the night and you can’t do that in baggy jeans and flannel.” Dean huffed as he picked a dress off the rack. Y/n’s eyes went wide as she took it in, the hem was short for anyone’s standards, then add in the plunging neckline and this dress left nothing to the imagination. 

“That is so not happening,” Y/n pointed at the offensive garment, her stomach fluttering at the simple idea of even trying to slip into it. Every spot on her body that she hated would be on full display in that thing. Her thick thighs, the roll that sat on her bra just under her arms, and don’t get her started on her abdomen. 

“Come on, just try it. You never know ‘till you try it on.” 

“Ugh,” Y/n snatched the dress from his hand before stalking off to look at more dresses. There were a couple more options that she grabbed to try on that were closer to her comfortability level. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t be caught dead in any of the items in her arms. But Dean had this way about him, always able to convince her to do anything without question. Maybe it was the way his skin crinkled around his eyes or the brightness that always seemed to live behind those deliciously green eyes? Who was she kidding, it was all of that and then some. The huntress had fallen hard for him from that first meeting. Sometimes she wondered why she chose to torture herself. 

Dean Winchester was the cream of the crop when it came to hunters, as was his baby brother, Sam. The whole world knew who they were, including heaven and hell, so how could she be expected to resist him when he smiled at her the way he does. Or even when he made her coffee in the mornings just how she liked it and picked up chocolate and pain killers for her when he knew it was that time of the month. He was exceedingly attentive to her, something that she was sure he only directed at Sam. It was just another thing that surprised her about the legend of a man. 

Yeah, like an idiot she fell for the eldest Winchester. There was no stopping it even though she was certain that her feelings would never be reciprocated. Y/n wasn’t like the other woman that Dean went for when he was on the prowl at bars. It’s not that she was ugly, it was that she was plain at best. People didn’t turn their heads when she walked in the room, men’s gazes didn’t linger on her from across the bar, no, Y/n was merely average. That’s how she knew that Dean would never see her as more than a friend because he had never looked at her in any form of want. 

“Are you ready to try those on?” A sales woman’s voice broke her out of her unrelenting train of thought. Dean answered for her before she could process the woman’s words. 

“Yes, please.” He smiled brightly and Y/n watched as the woman’s face flushed under his gaze. Y/n almost felt bad for the woman who was now just another victim to his charm. The saleswoman at least would be able to relish in his attention, wondering about what could have been had Y/n not been there with him. Y/n on the other hand already knew her fate. But mostly, if she was being honest, she was jealous. 

Dean put his hands on her shoulders and guided her along behind the boutique worker who took them into the back of the store where the dressing rooms were located. The area was mostly quiet, just the music from the speakers could be heard in the space. Three large mirrors sat in front of a stage on the far wall, the rooms spaning out on either side of it. In the center of the room were three plush chairs for those waiting for others to sit in. 

The worker unlocked a door for her as Dean plopped down in one of the chairs. Y/n slipped behind the door, letting out a deep breath as it closed behind her. If there was one thing she hated it was trying on clothes. Nothing ever seemed to fit her right or look anything like what it did on the hanger. It made the task a constant battle with her self-consciousness. 

Y/n had always carried extra weight on her body. It wasn’t that she didn’t live an active lifestyle, she was a hunter, after all, it was the diet that hunters were accustomed to. It was fast food and dives in every small town in America. Not many mom and pop places tended to offer an egg white omelet, and it wasn’t her inclination to eat them either. So, she had always been bigger than most, and if she was being honest she had grown used to that. Maybe she used it as a shield to protect herself. Making connections with people as a hunter only tended to end in heartbreak, so this was easier. 

The hunter hid the scary red thing Dean had selected behind all the rest of her haul, hoping she would find something before she ever even got to the thing. Y/n stripped from her flannel and jeans tossing them on the bench in the corner. She also added her bra to the pile, knowing all of these garments necessitated that she did not wear one. That left her in her favorite pair of panties. They weren’t anything special, but they made her butt looked its best.

The first dress in the line up was a straight black dress that hit just above her knee. The neckline wasn’t anything too crazy but the sleeves rolled off the shoulders a strip of fabric wrapping around her bust. Y/n was able to slip it on and tug up the zipper on the side. With a slide of her hands against the fabric, she frowned at her reflection. Not that it would flatter any figure, in her opinion. 

“What’s taking so long in there?” Dean called out from his spot in front of the mirrors.

“I’m not coming out in this thing,” she called back as she began to take the dress back off. 

“Oh, come on sweetheart,” 

“Nope, next,” Y/n heard him huff even through the door and she imagined he rolled his eyes as well. 

The next dress was a deep blue color. It had a wrap and pencil skirt, with an asymmetrical shape between the hem and the neckline. She supposed it was pretty but it also kind of looked like she had wrapped herself in a towel. Mostly, she felt like the point in the neckline was going to stab her in the throat, and she was not sure how to be sexy when she was trying not to die. It was another pass for her. 

There was only one dress left, and at that moment she was wishing to whoever was listening that she had picked out a few more choices. Dean was whistling now, some Zeppelin tune she couldn’t exactly identify and she knew he was getting impatient. Y/n swapped the fabrics on her body, pulling the thin straps of the red satin piece up onto her shoulders. The dress clung to her skin, the fabric lightweight. 

“Y/n/n,” Dean’s voice was just outside the door, the new proximity of it startling her. “Come on, you have to show me at least one. I know you and you’ll just try vetoing them all.” Y/n swore under her breath because he was right and it pissed her off that he knew her that well. The zipper was out of her reach on her back and she supposed she wouldn’t be able to truly see what it looked like on her unless she zipped it up. 

“Fine, I need help with this zipper anyway,” she sighed and held the fabric against her naked chest while opening the door with her other. Dean was beaming when he came into view on the other side of the door. He snuck inside faster than a flea, the slamming of the door startling her again. 

Get it together woman, you kill monsters for a living, Y/n cursed herself. 

“Turn,” Dean instructed her with his fingers, and the woman obliged as she faced the mirror. Dean brushed her hair off her shoulder with his fingertips, the action barely distinguishable but it sent the hairs on the back of her neck standing to attention. With one hand holding the bottom stop, he used the other to tug on the pull tab, sliding together the teeth in one fluid motion. 

“Thanks,” Y/n’s words were soft as she made eye contact with the green-eyed hunter in the mirror. He ran his tongue of his bottom lip, pulling the plump flesh between his teeth as his eyes wandered over her exposed skin. 

Y/n visibly cringed as she looked at herself. Unfortunately, this was her favorite out of the three, but that didn’t mean she felt like she could venture anywhere in public in the thing. “Sweetheart, if that coroner hadn’t already been eyeing you up today, he would not know where to start when he sees you in this.” 

“Shut up,” Y/n scrunched her nose as she spun around to whack Dean’s shoulder. “You are so full of it.”

“Am not,” Dean scoffed, his eye softening before he continued. “Y/n, why don’t you see how beautiful you are?”

Y/n whipped around to stare at him, her arms crossing over her chest, not believing that those words come out of his mouth. Surely, he was playing with her…

“Have you looked at me, Dean?” Y/n slapped her hands against her thighs, emphasizing their jiggle upon impact. “I’m nothing special.” 

“I have looked at you,” His gaze traveled down her body again, his breath hitching slightly as he did so. “I’ve been looking at you for a while now.” The drop in Dean’s voice sent heat rushing through her body, the gravel undertone making her shiver. 

“Dean--” words escaped her as the hunter stepped into her personal space, pushing her back against the mirror. Dean’s left hand came to rest against the reflective surface just beside her head as he chewed on his lip. 

“I don’t think you know how hard it is for me to keep my eyes off of you,” he leaned into her, his nose brushing alongside hers. “And now, seeing you in this dress, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep my hands off you.” 

A rush of confidence coursed through her blood as his hot breath fanned over her face and Y/n slipped her hands behind his neck, pulling his lips down to meet hers. The movement was anything but smooth, though the action sent both of the hunters into action. Dean growled as he nipped her lower lip and she opened up to him, allowing his tongue to invade her mouth. 

A moan involuntarily came from her as his hands moved to her hips, the heat of his skin seeping through the thin material where his finger pressed into her flesh. He stepped back, pulling her after him as he backed up and dropped to sit on the plush bench. Dean bunched up the material to her hips as he urged her to straddle his lap. Y/n used her hands on his shoulders to steady herself, the new bulge in his pants a surprise to her as she settled in his lap. 

“Yeah, and you thought I was kidding,” Dean took in the slight rise in her brow, leaning forward to run his lips across her jaw, taking note of the places that made her shiver. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she allowed Dean to explore her body and let herself just feel him. Dean raked his teeth along with the shell of her ear, causing her to buck her hips and both of them to groan.  

“Fuck,” her words were a breath on her lips as she repeated the action, the roughness of his jeans just enough friction on her aching sex. 

“That’s it, beautiful, take what you need,” Dean sat back and used his hands to keep her body moving against his own, watching the way her brows scrunched together in the center of her forehead. With a shift of his hips, he had her pushed back and straddling his left thigh, his hands still in their place on her hips. “Can you come like this, sweetheart?”

“I don’t--” a jolt of electricity had her halting her denial, instead she chose to just nod and place her hands against his chest to balance her movement. She could feel Dean’s heart hammering in his chest under her palm and the quick rise and fall of his breath. Even at this moment, she was disbelieving that he was that turned on watching her get herself off on his thigh, but she had the proof hammering under her fingertips. Y/n was biting her lip to keep quiet in the small room. “Dean, I’m so close.” 

“I’ve got you, come for me, Y/n,” he husked as his grip tightened, though she wasn’t sure how that was even possible, seeing as there was already gonna be bruises there later, that she was sure of. The sound of his voice reverberating in her head had the coil snapping inside of her, heat flooding her body as every nerve sparked and faded out. A rush of air left her lungs, her body slumping as her muscles relaxed post-orgasm. 

“Oh my god.” As her arousal ebbed from her body and the reality of what just happened came to her sense, Y/n clammed up and she tried to climb from his lap. Blood rushed to her face and her hands flew to her cheeks to hide the heat settling there.

“Woah, where are you going?” Dean stopped her from making a hasty exit, his eyes searching hers in question. 

“Dean, what the hell just happened?” 

A smirk replaced the confusion on his face as he leaned forward and nuzzled his face in her neck, tracing his tongue up her pulse. “You just got yourself off on my thigh while I tried not to cream my jeans,” he breathed in her ear. It was like he already knew every button to push on her body, his dirty talk doing everything she needed it to for her body to already be aching for him again. 

“I--”

“Shh, sweetheart. That was hot as fuck, and all I want now is to be buried deep inside that pretty pussy of yours.” 

“Jesus,” her eyes shifted to his, taking in the mischievous glint shining behind his iris. “You aren’t kidding.”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’ at the end of his word and Y/n nodded as she climbed off him. She turned her back to him so he could undo the zipper, and it took a second for Dean to catch on to her silent action. He jumped to the edge of the bench and tugged down the zipper before sliding the material down her shoulders. Dean hooked his fingers into the edge of her panties, placing a kiss on the dip in her lower back before pulling the soaked material to pool at her feet along with the dress. He stood then as she turned back to him and pushed his jacket and flannel down his arms, adding it to the pile of discarded clothes in the room. 

“Come, on we don’t have a lot of time before someone gets suspicious.” There was a quiver in her voice as she lifted the hem of his tee and tugged open his belt. It was taking everything in her to quell the shaking in her hands. Dean’s fingers came down to wrap around her wrists, halting her movement and she looked up at him. 

“Y/n we don’t have to,” he was trying to read her mind as he examined her face. The trepidation was seeping through her pores, but not because she didn’t want this. Hell, the painful ache between her legs told her how much she wanted this, but her brain couldn’t help to race through the million thoughts about what it all meant. 

“No, I-- God do I want this,” Y/n began chewing on the inside of her cheek as she tried to come up with the words to explain to him what she was thinking. But the longer the time passed the more nervous she grew, standing there stark naked and he’s still basically fully dressed. “I think I’ve wanted this for a long time now, but I’m just scared.”

“Of?” He urged her to continue.

“That this doesn’t mean the same thing to you,” Y/n cast her glance down, her eyes fixated on the way the fluorescent light glinted in the metal of his belt. 

“You think that this is about getting my dick wet for me.” It wasn’t a question, because she had all but spelled it out for him. “Y/n,” He put his fingers under her chin and turned her head back up to his, brushing his lips against hers, the action soft and unhurried. “I told you, I’ve been watching you for a while now, trying to learn everything I could about you. I would have done this the first night I met you if I hadn’t thought about what it would do to you. But I’m done being scared because I think I fell for you a long time ago and no amount of whiskey or other women could make me forget that. So I’m done fighting it.” 

“Yeah?” Her eyes were swimming with unshed tears now, and Dean answered her with another kiss, pulling her body flush against his own as he invaded her mouth. The pair only pulled apart when they could no longer fight the need for air. “Dean--”

“Yeah,” he breathed, dropping his grip on her to finish what she started with his belt. Y/n watched his movements, her breath getting caught in her throat as she watched him pull his length from its cotton confines. Dean signaled for her to turn with one hand as he stroked himself with the other. She obliged, of course, and Dean pushed her gently between her shoulder blades until her hands were pressed against the mirror. He nudged her legs to open a tad wider, meeting her gaze in the mirror. 

“Do we--” 

“I’m good if you’re good,” she told him, knowing where he was going with his question. He nodded to her before lining himself up with her entrance. Dean held her gaze as he entered her from behind, both of them sighing together as he became fully seated. Y/n closed her eyes as she tried to compose herself, her head falling between her arms. 

“Fuck, open your eyes, look at yourself,” Dean was biting his tongue as he swatted her ass to get her to lift her head again. She indulged him, looking at herself in the mirror before turning her eyes back to his in the mirror. “There you go,” he praised her, the words like music to her ears as he pulled back out and slammed into her hips. 

Dean set up a steady rhythm, careful to not shake the walls of the dressing too much with his movement. The couple kept their eyes on each other in the mirror, the moment the most erotic thing she could ever remember doing, but for the life of her, she couldn’t be bothered by it. Even from her vantage point, she could see how blown his pupils were, the black of his iris’ all but drowning out the green that she loved so much. To be honest, she wasn’t sure which she liked more now. All she did know was the feeling of him moving inside her and the way her muscles were shaking. 

A small knock had Dean stilling his movements, and Y/n stood up, pressing her back against his chest. He slipped an arm around her chest as she signaled for him to be silent. “You doing alright in there?” 

Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat and let out a breath, “Yeah,” she called back, afraid her voice would be too wrecked if she said anything else. 

“Is there anything else I can get you? Maybe some different sizes?” The saleswoman tried again. 

“Nope, I’m all set, thank you.” 

“Okay, just let me know.” The sound of her footsteps could be heard retreating from the dressing room, and Dean pressed his face into her neck, the pair of them chuckling. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he adjusted their position, resuming the movement of his hips as he snaked his free hand down to rub against her clit. Y/n jolted in his arms at the contact, this time closing her eyes as he built her back up. “I’m right behind you. Can you come for me again?” Y/n nodded against him, her hands flying to his forearm as she felt herself jumping over the cliff, her mouth open in a silent scream. Her knees buckled and Dean had to adjust himself to keep her from falling, still fucking her from behind as her fluttering walls milked him to his own orgasm. He bit into her shoulder to keep himself from groaning out loud. 

“Sweet Jesus,” her body went limp in his arms as the pair of them caught their breath in the now muggy space. 

“Yeah, you are so not going out with that coroner tonight. We will find a different way.” Dean admitted as he pulled his now softening cock from her. Y/n flinched at the feeling and the subsequent rush of his release inside her. 

“What?” She turned to him as he began righting himself, not understanding why he didn’t want her to do her job.

“‘Cause you are all mine now,” Dean tugged her into his chest, his fingers around one of her biceps. “And I want to spend all night making sure you can’t walk tomorrow.” 

“Oh,” Dean laughed as she blinked at him, clearly lost for any sort of coherent answer to what he just told her. 

“Get dressed so we can get out of here and kick Sammy out of our motel room.” Dean tapped her ass again and she pushed him away from her, a stupid grin on both of their faces.

Forevers: @22sarah08​ @akshi8278​ @anathewierdo​ @atc74​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @callmekda​ @dawnie1988​ @deanwanddamons​ @ellewritesfix05​ @emoryhemsworth​ @flamencodiva​​ @foxyjwls007​ @hobby27​ @janicho88​ @jensengirl83​ @katehuntington​ @lyarr24​ @malfoysqueen14​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @msmarvelouswinchester​ @polina-93​​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan​ @smol-and-grumpy​ @superfanficnatural​ @supraveng​ @talesmaniac89​ @tranquility-or-chaos​​ @waywardbeanie​ @winchest09​

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x plus size reader #dean winchester x plus sized reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fic #spn fanfic #spn fic #spn #supernatural #mine #alex writes #come as you are

[hopeshoodie]

The 5 best and worst dressed islanders in S2

To begin, these are all just my opinions.

Starting off with a spicey take, I think Bobby’s the fifth most poorly dressed islander.  I say all of that tentatively because the individual pieces are good, I just think the pairings should’ve been better.

I like the shape of his clothes- the unbuttoned short sleeve patterned shirt is really hot right now, the short shorts for his swimsuit, patterned blazer- but I think a lot of the colors and pairings don’t look great.  His iconic button up shirt is fine, but the pastel pants, purple shorts, and hawaiian blazer could look better with different colors. 

The styling on the statement pieces could be better too. I wish he had a buttoned shirt underneath the hawaiian print blazer. I wish his swim trunks were patterned. I wish they had paired the unbuttoned shirt with some cigarette pants. 

He’s got the idea, but lacks the polish that some of the other male islanders have. Even Felix’s outfits seem to match better and have more cohesion.

But his kilt outfits goes off though. For his kilt and his button up short sleeve, I’ll put him head of the rest of them. 

My issues with Elisa’s outfits are much the same as Bobby’s- she has some unique ideas but I don’t like how the execution ended up.

I like her in the y2k silhouette- low rise swimsuits and pants, halter tops, and empire waist belts. But the fringe is a weird element, and it mixes a lot of modern stuff like the athletic straps and chains with those elements. 

As I’ve said before I think Elisa would be more of a silver and rich jewel tones kind of girl. 

Her sleepwear is... Tragic. I like the high waist with hip cut outs as an idea, but the top looks bad with it. The way the two athletic straps cut her body and the top looks to big... Not a fan. It’d be cute with a long/baggy shirt. 

Clothing made out of chains is super in right now- but the belt on the outside of the chains is Not It (TM) and the chains should be bigger (because as it is  I can’t tell if it’s thread/fabric or proper metal chain). 

I get that Henrik has a cohesive theme of granola, but that doesn’t make it not bad

I hate both of his tunic-style shirts. They’re too long and they don’t look good with his pants. Just crop them.

Wearing a carabiner on your pants? In the villa? Jail.

Those shoes are INEXCUSABLE you are not a 58 year old lesbian going kayaking stop it. 

This isn’t super suprising, but ugh I hate Blake’s styling.

The metallic fabric of her dress reminds me of that metallic stretch fabric that was really popular in the 2010s? Like the stuff that every other skirt in Forever 21 was made of? And the shape of it is super dated as well

WHO THOUGHT THOSE BUCKLES WERE A CUTE IDEA

In general, the shoes and buckles and design really give me 2012 Seventeen Magazine vibes

46 year old accountant motherfucker. I know he only has to wear vests and khakis to work, but this is his idea of what looks nice? 

THE SHOESSSSS. WHAT ARE THOSSEEEEEEEEE?!?!!

The button up shirt isn’t bad but why that shade. Why the nastiest, dingiest shade possible.

None!!! Of his jackets!! Match his pants!!!! They’re not the same shade where it’s a full suit and they’re not complimentary colors they just look bad together. 

There’s something to be said for different blazer styles (I love Elijah’s double breasted jackets, you don’t see that very often) but ugh I hate Carl’s. The pockets are too big, there’s too many auxiliary buttons, it just looks like an old man’s suit jacket.

All of his pants are belted and I hate the belts. I hate the belts they chose so much.

BEST DRESSED

I didn't finish making this post, but it was going to be

5. Rahim. He and Noah are tied for this position but Rahim gets it because Noah's casual denim jacket with nothing underneath is a miss. But they both have really nicely paired evening wear, swim trunks that suit them, and a defined identity within their wardrobe.

4. Arjun- his clothes are so well matched, he plays around with colors that all look stunning on him, he has a clear identity, and his wardrobe is a bit more unique than the other boys. Felix could be here with his florals, but that sleeveless hoodie is a crime. Elijah could also be here, I love his pairing a suit jacket and shorts and also his double breasted jackets, but I feel like the colors/fabrics clash.

3. Hope- she and Marisol both have really distinct, curated looks. I was leaning towards Marisol, but she kind of does the same thing over and over again- plain fabric in black or white with classic cuts. Hope is more creative, she has a clear theme and style but uses different patterns and all of her clothing creates different silhouettes. My only complaint with Hope's look is that she doesn't really have an identifiable color motif, but I love it anyways because the animal print is tasteful and distinct. Her prom dress is my favorite outfit in the show.

2. Lottie. Obviously. She has the most different outfits out of anyone, they all match her very distinct aesthetic but are different from each other enough to be interesting. Her prom dress is to die for.

1. KASSAM. The perfect balance of having a unique style but finding pieces that bridged the style and what would be typically worn on a reality show. I'm willing to bet Kassam has crazier looks but the looks he chose look polished, have a clear identity, are well paired, and have awesome finishings that make him and his clothes fun to look at.

#final trash dump

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Day 6: Year - A Warriors Body

The (half)lifestyle Danny (half)lived was bound to affect him in many ways; some more visible than others. He was a fighter after all, and with enough time a fighter is gonna look like one.

Tucker pats Danny as they begin walking to school, “man it’s gonna be so weird being back huh?”. Making Danny chuckle, “tell me about it”, sighing and rubbing his neck, “and what with the lack of classes there’s been so much more time for hunting ‘n stuff. I’m gonna be so jittery just sitting in pointless classes for hours on end”.

Tucker laughs and grins like an idiot, knowing that was an understatement. You’d think the kid would take it easy when given a break, but no. Instead he basically fell face-first into fighting everything. And if there weren’t any fights then he went off training. “You just don’t know how to relax anymore I think”.

“Eh, you might have a point there. Jazz says I’m becoming an adrenaline junkie”.

Tucker gives him another pat and deadpans, “she’s right”.

“Fuck you”.

Tucker just laughs at that before poking Danny’s bicep, “though all your fighting sure has done you some favours”, attempting at flexing himself but just looking kinda ridiculous, “now if only I could pack on muscle that fast! Then the ladies would be all over me!”.

Danny rolls his eyes with a small smile, “you would if you actually did literally any physical activity outside of when you absolutely had to. Plus, you know my body’s more manipulatable”. Which was a blessing and a curse... and also the reason he was going to wear exclusively baggy clothing for the foreseeable future. He’d rather not have the fact that he rather looked like he low-key lived at the gym be on display. After all, he was supposed to be the weak little loser that blended into the background and slacked off; there was no logical reason to an outsider for him to pack on muscle, especially as much as he had. But hey, at least he hadn’t hit a growth spurt on top of it; though that would probably happen sometime in the future. Ugh.

Tucker rolls his eyes and puts his hands behind his head, “still man. You probably look way better naked than me”.

Danny actually pauses on the sidewalk at that and stares at Tucker, “Ancients, you’re such a pervert”. Tucker just looks back and winks at him, making Danny shake his head and start walking again. Smacking Tucker’s stomach as he catches up, “maybe you should focus less on how big your arms are and more on how big your stomach is, Mr. Eats Five Burgers In One Sitting. You’re gonna wind up like my dad... just shorter”.

“Ouch, low blow. But what can I say? All that tasty juicy meat is just begging to be devoured. How can a guy say no to that?”. Tucker digs in his pocket and flips out his PDA, “oh and Sam's still not gonna be back today”.

Danny groans, “great, so first day is gonna be even more shit. Wonderful. And don’t we have gym first block? Zone, the Universe just hates us, huh?”.

Tucker grins, pocketing the device, “like that’s anything new. But hey, at least you probably won’t die this year”, pointing at him, “and you’ve got some bully protection now too”.

Danny quirks a very confused eyebrow, “huh?”. Making Tucker roll his eyes disbelievingly, “dude seriously? There is literally no way you fit in a locker now. Sure your horrible clothing choices-”, tugging on the mustard yellow sweater with a little green puppy pin on the bottom, “-makes you seem small, but Dash isn’t that stupid”, laughing and tilting his head, “sure is close though. As soon as he picks you up he’s gonna notice something’s off, even I know muscle weighs a lot”.

Danny blinks at him, pausing his walking again, “Tuck pal, just how heavy do you think I am? I’m barely a-hundred pounds”. Tucker pokes his arm, “bullshit. I think you need a new scale”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “dude, most of my muscle and stuff is ectoplasm-based. Just my built-up ectoplasm storing itself overtop of my bones and fleshy muscle. And ecto’s weightless, remember? Heck, it can be anti-weight or whatever; me having more ecto muscle makes me weigh less not more”. Tucker blinks, “huh, didn’t think of it like that”, and decides what the heck and promptly wraps his arms around Danny to lift him up. Easily noting that yeah, Danny really doesn’t weigh much. A-hundred might even be being generous.

Danny shoves him off as Tucker puts him back on the ground, “so ha, no Dash won’t notice”, looking at the ground a little worriedly, “though yeah, I probably won’t fit in a locker anymore. Maybe I could...”, glancing at his arm before shaking his head, “hmmmm yeah no, that’d just make me look fat”.

Tucker chuckles, “what? Trying to redistribute the ecto? Hate to break it to ya, but you’ve got way too much to be a skinny twig again”.

“Hey”.

Tucker points over his shoulder at the school, “it’s true and you know it. And it’s not like I was any better”, both of them chuckle at that before Tucker continues, “anyway, welcome back to Hell I guess. Ready for another year of suffering and Highschool inequality”.

Danny snorts, “and suitably started off by the worst class of all, which will probably involve both of us getting rubber balls to the face”. Tucker just snorts right back as they climb the steps to the doors that both of them kinda wanted to never see again. Especially Danny, not like he was ever going to actually need or make use of the crap the teachers shoved down their throats here. If he was more of a delinquent then he’d just drop out here and now.

But hey, at least the whole quartets lockers -yes, even Valerie’s- were all together this year. Small miracles.

Danny groans as the two boys push in the gymnasium doors, making a be-line for the locker room and hoping to continue successfully avoiding the entirety of the football team. At least in the locker room they wouldn’t be total jackasses, since they had some weird level of respect for the ‘sacredness’ of the locker room. Probably some weird sports guy thing.

Pushing? Fine. Ass slapping? For some reason, fine. Hiding someone’s clothes? Sometimes fine. But actually shoving someone into lockers, or giving someone a swirly in the locker room bathroom, or actually wrecking the gym clothes? Off-limits; and messing with the showers was only cool if someone was taking waaaaaay too long. It was weird but hey, at least it made the locker room something of a semi-safe zone. So long as you were cool getting mocked for changing in the showers or out in front of everyone. Chance to show off for the jocks, chance to get mocked for everyone else.

Tucker chills against the wall, waiting on Danny who always took stupid long to change. Dude had bandaging and scars to cover after all. Whistling and inspecting his nails, being the only one still actually in here besides Danny; as per usual. It was kinda weird, felt like they had just finished freshman year days ago and yet here they were again. Back in the same routine. Danny’s voice breaks through his thoughts, “uh, I think we -or more so I- might have a slight problem”.

Tucker sighs, at least Danny’s tone wasn’t serious which meant less ‘danger/ghost fight incoming’ and more ‘mild inconvenience or some general halfa weirdness’, “what?”.

Danny gives a very awkward chuckle, stepping out and holding his arms out to the side before looking down at his shirt, “I may have updated my wardrobe, but I think I may have forgotten something”.

Tucker blinks before sputtering and laughing, bending over a bit to wheeze, “dude, haha, that so doesn’t fit you anymore!”. Tucker absolutely forgot that Mrs. Testlauf was super serious about wearing fitting clothes, pretty sure Danny had too. She always went off about how it ‘showed the value and worth of a person and their progress’ course she’d always add on ‘and shows who the weak pipsqueaks are’. Laughing some more, “how did you even get that on? I get that the underaumour is, like, super-duper stretchy, but the shirt? Looks like it’s gonna burst apart at the seams!”.

Danny huffs, “again, more manipulatable. I’m ‘squishy’ remember?”, and crosses his arms. Both of them still and stare at the air at the sound of ripping; proving Tucker right.

Tucker falls on his ass laughing after a beat, “guess you have to ask for a new one now! Ha! Testlauf’s gonna be pissed”.

“Fuck you man”, Danny starts laughing himself though and glances around before just phasing off the shirt; yeah, he wrecked the sleeves. Stupid Testlauf and her stupid ‘wear your proper sizes or it’ll be detention for the rest of your life’ rule. Least the shorts were supposed to be a bit loose, not that they currently were.

Both boys’ jump a little at hearing a rather masculine female voice shout, “where the Zone is Fenton and Foley! Those two slackers better get their butts out here! Or they’ll be running laps all class!”. Danny and Tucker both panic a little at that, and justifiably so because talk about harsh. Promptly bolting out of the locker room, Danny with his ruined shirt in hand.

Unfortunately, though obviously, everyone is pretty much staring at them as they run out. Most looking to be partway through rolling their eyes but stop. Dash -because of course Danny would get stuck having gym with Dash- is the one to actually point shit out though, “Fenton? What the Hell happened to you?!?”.

Danny quirks an eyebrow, “huh?”, while walking over to Testlauf and speaking rather awkwardly, “I, uh, need a new gym shirt”.

Testlauf blinks, “like Hell you do”, and snatches the shirt. Holding it up and looking from it to the boy, clearly seeing that it’s torn and stretched out. Then giving Danny an almost happy appraising look, “well I’ll be, Fenton, so you do”, and gives him a clap on the arm that is absolutely a pleased one.

Danny blinks, confused, and looks to Tucker, who also looks confused, “what the Zone is happening here?”.

Todd blurts out, “what do you think? You have a bloody six-pack and the arms of an ox. Did you take steroids or something?”.

Danny and Tucker blink, then look to Danny’s chest. Danny instantly blushing a bit and attempting to cover up, belatedly remembering that Testlauf actually took the shirt, “uhhhh. No?”. Tucker has to turn away from everyone to laugh at Danny’s expense. Danny shoves him over for that; Tucker just lays on the ground laughing, not bothering to get up.

Testlauf tosses a larger shirt at him, “get that on and let’s see what you can do with those new muscles. Glad to see you ain’t no bloody wimp anymore”, huffing to herself as she walks off to get the balls, “to see youths shaping up, nothing makes me prouder. I couldn’t give a damn how he did it, kid’s not the type to go to unhealthy measures”. Danny, actually being able to hear her, blushes a little.

In the meantime, all Danny’s fellow classmates rush up and start trying to poke at him. He, of course, bats them off erratically; Tucker springing up to also try shooing people off from his best friend. The fact that Danny’s shirt is still practically skin-tight honestly doesn’t help; less so than the underarmour at least.

Dash scowls at Danny, while aggressively snatching up a ball, “seriously, the goddamn Zone Fenton. Weaklings ain’t supposed to bulk up”.

Danny glances from side to side before steeling his expression and meeting the bully's eyes, effectively deciding screw it, “not my fault you were too busy stuffing me into things to notice things were changing”.

Jesse blinks at him while joining the side Danny’s on, “so wait, you’ve been working out or some shit for a while and straight up no one noticed?”.

Danny shrugs, “it’s also not my fault no one cares to really pay attention to me and besides, I like being left alone”.

Testlauf blows her whistle, which of course results in Dash instantaneously whipping a ball straight at Danny. Which again, makes Danny decide fuck it, and just catches the ball nonchalantly. Dash scowls as Danny smirks, Dash walking off to the side.

Everyone on Dash’s side pauses for a second and glance at each other, before all silently agreeing to bombard the boy. Todd speaking while whipping a ball at him just like everyone else, “so this is why you always wear such baggy clothes huh? Can’t say I understand why or how though!”.

Danny just choosing to dodge with a sidestep this time, “because you people are dicks honestly. And my mom’s a black belt and knows more fighting styles than I can shake a stick at. How the Zone do you think?!?”. More than a couple nod to themselves while running around throwing and dodging.

Mikey, who just so happens to be trying to hide behind him, readjusts his glasses, “and don’t they want you to be a hunter like them? That’s a pretty physical job”. Emily shouting, “and Jack has totally tossed an RV through a wall before! So packing on muscle easily must be in your DNA!”. Danny isn’t about to argue against that, that might actually have something to do with it after all. Even if it was more his ghost halfs fault.

The rest of the game devolves from there, becoming more wild throwing and teenage shrieking than pestering Danny. Which Danny’s perfectly content with, though that results in someone getting practically thrown into him after getting blown back by a ball to the stomach. Which then results in Danny getting flipped over and throwing his ball way harder than he meant to. The entire gym pauses at the ball hitting the back wall and actually cracking the fake brick a bit.

Tucker bends over wheezing with laughter from the sidelines, looks like someone might have gotten a little too used to chucking round -though usually glowing- balls at beings that could handle being rammed by semi’s. Least he didn’t hit anyone and break their arm!

Danny blinks at the wall, “heh heh, whoops”. The few people still remaining on the other side honestly just look impressed rather than the more reasonable reaction, which would be fear and concern for their own safety; but Amity Park and CasperHigh were crazy like that though.

Mrs. Testlauf blows her whistle, “at that I think it’s a good time to wrap this up, before Fenton murders someone”, Danny rubs his neck at that while she points at him and continues, “learn self-control boy, these walls see enough damage as it is”. Which gets quite a few people to start snickering at his expense; Danny just nods awkwardly and blushes a bit. Learning self-control was generally pretty high on Danny’s priority list as it was.

Tucker snickers at him as everyone goes to clean up, “guess someones gotta relearn they’re surrounded by meek little regular old humans huh”, with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. Danny smashes his face into the wall, not hard enough to do actual damage though, “shut up, Tuck”; making a few people around chuckle.

Tucker grumbles a fake, “ow”, as he pulls his face off the wall after Danny let’s go of his head. Then turning to him and smirking meanly, pulling out his PDA. Danny eyes it and Tucker’s grin, “oh don’t you dare”.

“You started it”, and jabs him with the device, giving him a mild electrical shock.

A couple other teens blink and watch the two boys pretty much beat each other up slightly. Emily muttering, “I think I don’t actually want to know what the Zone the defect quartet gets up to in their spare time”.

Todd snorts, “you’re just weak”. She glares back at him, “I don’t hear you asking”. He waves her off, “now why would I waste my precious energy on that”, earning a few snorts from the rest of the class just as the bell goes off.

Jesse runs up to Danny as everyone’s walking to leave, pulling at the ugly yellow sweater, “what I don’t get, is why you dress like such shit if you've got it going on under there”. Danny shrugs, “just don’t care”, he did care, he cared that people didn’t notice literally any of his weirdness. But obviously that wasn’t working out here. Especially with Dash giving him a weird look and clearly choosing to not go and bug Danny. But maybe, judging by how no one really seemed to care beyond being impressed and he had had fun, maybe that didn’t matter.

After all, it had been a year since he died. Since he started fighting day and night practically every other waking moment. Since he started Highschool. Things had changed. He had. And try as he might, people were going to notice that. He wasn’t that same kid anymore. The little living weak wallflower Danny Fenton didn’t exist anymore, and there really was no point in trying to pretend that he did.

End.

#ectober #ectober2020 #ectober 2020 #danny phantom #phandom #reveal #muscles #the quirks of being a halfa #becoming more ghostly #danny fenton #ms. tetslaff #dash baxter #tucker foley #comedy #danny has scars because of course he does #fan fic #phan phic #my writing #have a fic suck my dick #phantomphangphucker

[mankai-onlyfans]

Hey, Yuki! Rank the Mankai Company by most fashionable to least! (Obviously you’re number 1 but I think Muku always looks cute too!)

Hm, okay.

1. Myself - no explanation needed.

2. Azuma - always carries himself with grace, and looks chic in every setting. Able to pull off almost any outfit.

3. Tenma - I hate to say it, but he knows how to dress himself. Must be all those years of being coddled by his personal stylists or whatever. He looks the part of a celebrity.

4. Masumi - he has a good sense for color and not mixing too many patterns. His face and aloof air is chic enough to pull off most outfits.

5. Muku - his style is simple, but cute. His outfits always go together by accident, in the way that a kid might dress themselves, but somehow it suits him perfectly.

6. Citron - he dresses exotically, but his outfits are usually pulled together, with coordinating colors.

7. Itaru - decent choices in terms of style. But he rarely ever goes out of the house, so I don't have as much data to pull from. What I've seen looks fine.

8. Sakyo - looks sharp most of the time, it's not easy to pull off turtlenecks, but he manages somehow. He could stand to add some color to his wardrobe.

9. Sakuya - looks like he just threw on whatever he found that morning, but thankfully his clothes are simple enough to mix and match without being too offensive.

10. Tsuzuru - plain, boring.

11. Hisoka - plain, boring.

12. Omi - plain, boring. Don't like it when he wears beanies. And he should grow out his hair a little.

13. Tasuku - boring, but with graphic shirts.

14. Tsumugi - even more boring, but sometimes wears this baggy ass tee shirt that is at least six sizes too big, I swear.

15. Juza - would be way higher on this list if he didn't wear sandals all the time. From the legs up, he's effortlessly stylish.

16. Homare - would be higher up on the list if he didn't mix and match so many patterns. He gives me a headache.

17. Kazunari - very hit or miss. He's bold with his choices, but they're not always good ones.

18. Misumi - too bright, too many triangles.

19. Taichi - offensive to look at. So many patterns and neons, and... ugh. Trying too hard.

20. Banri - no. Just no. Walking disaster. Who wears animal prints these days?? He's trying to look trendy and retro but it just doesn't work for him at all. His attitude doesn't help. 0/10.

Hope this helps.

- 🎀 Yuki Rurikawa 🎀

#a3! #a3! crack #a3! ask blog #a3! memes #yuki #<post> #// yuki really went after them like that fkcjkzsjs

[stargazing-enby]

🎃A Drarry Halloween story...🎃

[ID: a night sky background with a row of pumpkins at the bottom and the words “Pumpkin Boy by OTPshipper98” written in the middle. End ID]

Drarry | 6.5k | Teen and Up | Fluff, Angst, Pre-Hogwarts, Trick or Treating, Child Abuse (Abusive Dursley Family), Childhood Crushes, Bickering | Read on AO3 | Read in Spanish | There’s fanart!

“Come oooon! I promise I’ll be back by eight. They won’t even notice I left! They’re too busy entertaining their boring guests, they’ll just assume I went to bed!”

The elf cringed at his tone. “Dobby is still not thinking this is a good idea, Master Draco.”

“I don’t care what you think!” he snapped. “This is my last chance to do this before I have to spend every Halloween at Hogwarts, and you are not going to ruin this for me. That’s an order.”

Pride filled his chest as Dobby bowed at his feet and stretched out his arm. He’d done it! He’d convinced Dobby! Oh, Merlin, he was really doing this. He was going to Muggle London. All of his friends had said they’d do it this year, and he was determined to have the best story to tell when he saw them all again.

“Where to?” the elf muttered, shaking. “The city centre?”

“No. That’s where all my friends will be, and I want my story to be a surprise. Take me to…” He looked around, trying to come up with any Muggle place he knew the name of. He shrugged. “To the last Muggle place my father ordered you to Apparate to.”

A loud crack, a pull at the pit of his stomach, and they were gone.

He looked around and immediately wrinkled his nose. “Where are we? This place looks ghastly.” And scary, but he didn’t say that out loud.

“In P-Privet Drive, Master Draco.” Dobby let go of his hand. “This is where—”

“I don’t care. Where are the houses and the Muggle kids?”

“They are being this way, Master Draco.”

***

“Jade, wait for me!”

“Uuuhh, I’m gonna kill you!”

“Aaahhh! Noooo!!!”

Harry snickered. That had to be the silliest ghost costume he had seen all evening, and yet those two idiots were running like their life depended on it. They were so gullible—ghosts didn’t even exist!

He brought another one of the chocolates he’d nicked from Dudley’s bag to his mouth. Five more to go. He’d have to finish them before the Dursleys got back home, or he knew he’d get in trouble.

Another group of kids approached 4 Privet Drive, and he spied on them from between the flowers of Aunt Petunia’s fuchsia bush. Ah, he knew those girls—they were the popular group from year 4. He wondered if they’d be as popular the next day of school if their classmates were to realise the resemblance between their group costume and the stinky, over-boiled shrimps Mrs Figg cooked on special occasions.

Pity he was the only kid in town who’d had to suffer Mrs Figg’s poor cooking skills.

Another kid walked past. Harry almost missed him, because he was wearing what looked like a really expensive costume of Death—his cloak was a deep shade of black and covered his whole body, and he was carrying some sort of… bag, over his shoulder. It was so big, it looked as though he was about to carry a corpse with it. He would have made quite a realistic impression, had it not been for the pointy hat that rose from his head, which kind of made him look like a gigantic walking cone of ice cream.

But none of that really mattered, because this kid was new. Harry had never seen him before, and he didn't seem to know where he was going—he kept staring at 5 Privet Drive, as though wondering if the house would bite him if he approached it.

This was his chance of making a friend—one that Dudley couldn't possibly have threatened into hating him yet.

Quickly, he crawled towards the window and climbed into the living room. He almost turned on the lights, but thought better of it and resorted to squinting as he searched of something that could resemble a costume. The old wardrobe in which aunt Petunia kept her old scarves caught his eye, but he didn't dare use one of those. It did remind him, though, of the ragged scarf he’d nicked from the back of Dudley’s wardrobe to wipe the blood of a scratch on his knee the previous spring. He’d hidden it under his bed, and he was pretty sure it was still there.

Two minutes later, Harry looked himself in the mirror and saw a half-decent impersonation of a pirate. His glasses were a bit crooked, but at least they held the scarf in place so that it covered his eye. His clothes were baggy and a bit stinky, but for once he didn’t care—weren’t pirates stinky after all?

He was about to run out again when he remembered—he had to cover his scar! He couldn't risk the wind moving his fringe—he was sure that kid would think him a freak if he saw it. That was what the Dursleys always called him.

Did pirates wear hats? Well, Harry shrugged, grabbing one of Dudley's old ones, now they do.

He stepped outside, frantically searching for that pointy hat. The kid was nowhere to be seen, he realised, his heart jumping.

He advanced a few more steps, but hesitated. Walking all the way to the road was not a good idea; if the Dursleys somehow found out he’d escaped Mrs Figg’s creepy old guest room, he’d be doomed.

Harry still couldn’t see that kid. Feeling disappointed, he grabbed a stick from the front yard and hit the grass. Ugh, he shouldn’t have left his stupid bush.

“What are you supposed to be?”

Harry jumped around. It was the pointy boy! The adjective really did suit him, Harry realised—his chin was extremely sharp, and his eyebrow was raised in an almost perfect triangle as he stared at Harry with a skeptical sneer.

“Er… I’m a pirate. See? This is my sword.” He raised the stick in the air.

“Really?” The boy had a very posh accent, too. “Because you look like you just escaped Azkaban prison, honestly.”

“Azka-what?”

“Of course, you wouldn’t know what that is.” His sneer deepened. “I don’t know why I thought talking to a Muggle would be a good idea.”

“What did you just call me?” Gosh, the kid was weird. And a bit mean. But Harry kind of liked him already—it wasn’t hard to see that he was trying to hide the fact that he was lost, and that made his anger feel endearing rather than annoying.

“Nothing.”

Harry didn’t really know what to say to that. A moment passed and the kid shuffled a bit.

“What are you dressed up as?” Harry asked.

The kid huffed. “You should check your glasses if you have to ask! I’m a wizard, of course!”

“That’s not how wizards look,” he pointed out.

“Excuse me?!”

The boy’s offended expression was so harmless and exaggerated that it actually made Harry snicker. “It’s not my fault you look like Death!”

“I most certainly do not look like Death!”

Man, the kid was proud. Harry sighed. He really should change subjects if he wanted to have any chance at becoming friends with him.

He pulled a chocolate from his pocket and handed it to him. “Here. What’s your name?”

The kid eyed him suspiciously. “Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. Yours?”

“That’s such an uncommon name.” Draco still hadn’t accepted the chocolate, but Harry kept his arm stretched out. “I’m Harry.”

Draco pulled a face, but finally took the chocolate. “I don’t like that name.”

“Why not?” Harry frowned. “What's wrong with it?”

“Nothing, I just don’t like it.” Draco inspected the chocolate thoroughly, as though he’d never seen a pumpkin wrapping before. “I think I’ll just call you something else.”

“What?!”

He brought the chocolate to his mouth and hummed. “From now on, I’ll call you Pumpkin Boy.”

“You’re so weird,” Harry said. When Draco raised his chin defiantly, Harry smirked. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Pointy Boy. I like weird.”

“You’re such an entitled git!”

“Well you’re a pointy brat,” he shot back.

Draco clenched his fists. “Are you going to come trick or treating with me or what?”

Harry’s heart jumped at that. Him? Trick or treating? Oh, god, he’d get in so much trouble if the Dursleys found out. But he really wanted to befriend Draco. Who wanted to go trick or treating with him!

“Sure,” he said casually. “Let’s go.”

Read the rest on AO3

#Drarry #drarry squad #otpshipper98 #drarry halloween fic #drarry fic #halloween #harry potter #pre-hogwarts #abuse tw #child abuse tw

[shhhhyoursister]

“you didn’t have to get me anything”

so since this doesnt specify davenzi...... how about a teensy bit of davenzi but mostly the matteo/amira friendship weve all been craving????

When Matteo dials Amira’s number and holds his phone up to his ear, he’s already anticipating the teasing he’s about to endure. He’s preemptively annoyed, but also knows that he has very few options at this point and that Amira would almost definitely be helpful in this specific situation.

“Matteo? What’s up?”

“Uh,” he starts and then pauses, blushing and rubbing at the back of his neck, “I, uh. Need your help with something. Today, if you’re free?”

“Well,” Amira sighs, “I was planning on watching a movie with Omar, but maybe if you tell me what you need my help with, I’ll consider cancelling.” 

He considers his words for a moment before deciding to just say it, and blurts out, “David is taking me to a nice restaurant and I don’t know what to wear. Can you come, like, look through my closet? And help me?”

He hears Amira hum on the other end and can hear the smugness in the noise, and he gets ready to beg before Amira says, “Okay, that’s... actually really sweet, Matteo. When are you guys going?”

“Um,” this is the question that Matteo really didn’t want her to ask, “tonight? In like, four hours?”

“Oh, so you waited until the day of to start looking for an outfit, and realized that most of your wardrobe consists of tee shirts, sweaters, huge jackets, and baggy jeans?”

He rolls his eyes but figures arguing won’t help his case so he resigns, and says, “Yes, exactly. Please, Coach, I don’t... I don’t want to embarrass myself. I’m already going to ‘cause I don’t know how the fuck to eat in a fancy restaurant, but I at least want to look nice.”

Amira laughs before actually aw-ing at him, and she says in a much kinder voice, “Of course, Vollidiot. I’ll be there in 20, okay? I’ll look through and see if we can salvage anything from your closet.”

*****

When Amira gets there she has an expression on her face that’s somewhere between smugness and fondness, and they do their usual handshake before he leads her into his room so she can start looking through his stuff.

“Matteo, even if it isn’t today, can I take you to buy some jeans that actually fit you?”

“Ugh, fine. Can you help me with this now though, please?”

“I’m, trying, habibi, but I don’t have much to work with. Oh, actually, how about this shirt?”

Matteo looks over and blushes before collapsing back onto his bed, mumbling into the pillow, “That’s David’s.”

“What? I can’t hear you with your mouth covered, Matteo.”

“I said that shirt is David’s. I can’t wear his shirt out to dinner with him.”

He misses the soft smile that Amira aims in his direction as she carefully hangs the shirt back up. He hears her rustle around in his closet more before she holds up another shirt with a raised eyebrow.

“That one... is also David’s.”

“Okay, I’m sensing a theme here.”

“A theme?”

“Yeah, all the nice stuff in here is actually David’s.”

“Well, yeah, he dresses better than me. We all know this.”

“I know, it just makes my job a little harder. We might....” she trails off, and Matteo pops up from the bed.

“We might what?”

“I think we have to go shopping.”

“No.”

“Okay, your choice. I’m just telling you that I don’t think I can make anything nice out of...this.”

“Maybe I should call Jonas and ask him for help instead.”

“And why do you think that would be a better idea than going shopping?”

“Because he won’t be mean to me.”

“First of all, that’s not true. Second of all, you asked for my help. If you want it, we need to at least get you a nice shirt.”

“What about what I wore to the AbiBall? That was a nice shirt!”

“You mean the AbiBall you went to with David? No, that won’t do. Come on, Matteo, we can go to one store. I’m sure we’ll find something that looks good that you won’t hate.”

Matteo grumbles but gets up and starts putting his shoes on, and Amira smiles as they walk out of the flat and start making their way to the closest clothing store.

“So, where is he taking you?”

“I don’t really know, he said he wants it to be a surprise. Just that it’s nice, and I need to wear more than jeans and a tee shirt.”

“That’s really sweet, Matteo. But, wait. What did you wear on your other dates?”

He blushes again and says quietly, “This is actually the first real date we’re going on.”

“That’s so cute.”

“Shut up.”

“Actually, no. I’m helping you so you need to listen to me talk about how happy I am for you. For you both, really.”

Matteo rolls his eyes but bumps his shoulder into Amira’s, offering her a small smile, and she smiles and bumps him back.

“And what about you and Mohammed? You guys are cute, too.”

“Shut up.”

“Hey! Why can you call my relationship cute, but I can’t call yours cute?”

“Because I’m not the one who begged for help picking out an outfit.”

“Okay, I didn’t beg.”

“You would’ve if I had said no.”

“But that didn’t happen, so.”

“Yeah, because I’m an amazing friend.”

As they reach the store, Matteo quietly says, “Yeah, can’t argue with that.”

*****

“Matteo, I have picked out five perfectly nice shirts, and at this point I think you’re just trying to be annoying.”

“I’m not!”

“I didn’t realize you were so picky, then.”

“Well, I don’t like the color of that one, David has that shirt, that one is itchy, that one the sleeves are too short, and that one...I just hate.”

“Oh my god, okay,” she pinches the bridge of her nose between her fingers as Matteo stands in front of her and pouts, “this is going to be harder than I thought.”

“I’m... gonna cancel. That’s the only way, right? David will understand.”

“He might understand, but he’ll be sad about it.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, so we’re going to keep looking, right?”

“Fuck. Fine, yeah.”

He watches Amira search through the racks, shaking her head at the lack of options. She lifts her head and starts looking around the store, her eyes squinted in concentration. She suddenly smiles and grabs Matteo’s hand, yanking him over to a rack they hadn’t noticed, and she looks through the shirts until she finds Matteo’s size.

“What about this one?”

He stares at the shirt she’s holding up for a moment, tilting his head. He reaches out and rubs the fabric between his fingers, humming at how soft and light the material is. He finally nods, and Amira smiles and shoves him in the direction of the fitting room.

When he steps out a moment later, Amira aws again, and clasps her hands together and brings them up to her chest.

“Matteo, that’s it!”

“Yeah, I like it. It’s comfortable, and it’s a good color. Do you think- uh, never mind.”

“Do I think what?”

Matteo blushes and runs his hand through his hair, “Do you think David will like it?”

She steps forward and puts a hand on his shoulder and smiles softly before saying, “Matteo, he’s a fool if he doesn’t.”

Matteo scoffs, “He’s a fool no matter what.”

“Yeah, but he’ll be even more of a fool if he doesn’t shower you in praise the second he sees you.”

Matteo grins at her, and she links their arms for a moment before yanking hers back and saying, “Oh, um, I need to get something for Essam while we’re here, actually. Why don’t you go pay and I’ll meet you by the front?”

They separate, Matteo tapping his foot on the line until it’s his turn and he pays, thanking the cashier with a smile. He waits a few minutes before Amira comes over, holding a bag of her own. 

*****

When they get back to Matteo’s flat, he has about an hour before David is meant to be getting there. Amira sits on his couch as he starts grabbing shoes and socks and everything else he’s going to need, but she gets up and stops him once he grabs a pair of pants from his drawer.

“So, I might’ve lied earlier.”

Matteo panics for a moment, asking frantically, “Wait, the shirt isn’t nice? Amira, why the fuck--”

“No, of course not, idiot. The shirt is perfect. But I wasn’t buying stuff for Essam, I might’ve...gotten you a little something. Or two little somethings.”

Matteo blushes at her but smiles as she hands him the bag, saying quietly, “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“This is kind of something that I had to get you.”

Matteo opens the bag and starts laughing when he sees two pairs of pants. He takes them out and unfolds them, one a nicer black pair, and one a regular pair of blue jeans.

“How did you know my size? Like my actual size?”

“Well, I looked at the sizes you already had and just... subtracted a few inches. Also, I’ve shopped for Essam before, I have a pretty good grasp on men’s pants sizes. Wear the black ones tonight.”

He grabs the black pair that she points at, and clutches them to his chest, before looking up at her and saying sincerely, “Thanks, Coach. I’ll send you the money for them.”

“Don’t bother, they were on a really good sale. Consider them a gift.”

They smile at each other before Matteo’s phone buzzes and he checks it, his eyes widening.

“Fuck, David is gonna be here in like 20 minutes.”

“Okay okay, just change. I’ll wait out there, but come show me when you’re dressed.”

Matteo changes slowly, smoothing his hands over the new clothes a few times before he feels confident enough to walk outside. Once he does and Amira sees him, she smiles and her eyes light up.

“Oh, Matteo, you look great!”

He stands there awkwardly as she fawns over him. The black pants are a little tighter than he usually wears, but they do actually fit him, which apparently makes a huge difference. The light blue of the short sleeved button up shirt Amira picked out makes his eyes look even brighter, and it fits him without being too tight. 

“We just need to fix your hair and you’ll be good to go!”

“My hair?”

“Yes, Matteo. Your hair.”

She drags him into the bathroom and wets her hands a little, messing with his hair until she’s satisfied, and Matteo looks in the mirror and has to agree that it looks a lot better. They walk back out into the living room and Matteo checks his phone once more, and he squeaks when he sees the time and the text from David.

“Fuck, he’s here!” 

Just then the door buzzes and Amira rushes over to let David in. She runs back and pulls Matteo into a hug, and he smiles and returns it, and when they let go she leans up and kisses him on the cheek. 

“I hope you have a great time, habibi. Text me about it later please.”

“Oh my god I’m not going to do that.”

“Yeah you will.”

Before Matteo can retort, there’s a knock on the door, and Amira grins before rushing to get it. When she opens it, David is standing there wearing a dark gray button up shirt, black pants, and he has a backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Oh, Amira? Hi, um. What are you doing here?” He asks in a confused but polite voice, and Matteo can hear Amira laugh as she says, “Don’t worry about it. Have fun, boys!” 

As the door closes Matteo starts worrying a little, smoothing his hand over the shirt again as he hears David’s footsteps echo through the flat. 

“Matteo?”

“Yeah, I’m in here.”

“Why was Amira here? You didn’t forget our date, did you-- oh. Oh wow.”

Matteo blushes when David rounds the corner and spots him, and almost doesn’t process how good David looks over how nervous he is. 

“Uh, hey.”

“Matteo... oh my god, you look so good. When did you get that shirt? And pants that actually fit? Wow, you’re really going all out for me.”

Matteo ignore the slight teasing, instead deciding to walk closer so he can wrap his arms around David’s neck, and David’s hands come to rest on his waist. Touching David makes him a little less nervous, especially when David leans in to kiss him on the cheek. 

“Seriously, babe, you look amazing. I really wasn’t expecting this.”

“You didn’t expect me to look amazing?”

David pinches his side a little and says, “No, that’s not what I mean. I always think you look amazing. I just wasn’t expecting you to get a whole new outfit for this.”

“Well, I may have had some help. But you look great, too. Wow. Are you ready to go?”

David grins before leaning in to press their lips together softly. They kiss until they’re both smiling too much, and kiss for a few seconds after that, until David makes a noise into his mouth and pulls away, an accusatory grin on his face.

“Help? So that’s why Amira was here!”

#druck fic #druck fanfic #matteo florenzi #amira thalia mahmood #david schreibner #davenzi #i LOVE her #i love this friendship #thots and feelings

[pi-cat000]

MSA time travel idea (part 31)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25  Lewis POV 3,  Mystery POV , Vivi POV 3, 29, Lewis POV 4

Part 32: here

.

Why? Why couldn't he have just stayed dead? WHY? All he has done is make things worse! So much worse. Sure, Lewis is alive, but at what cost…and for how much longer?  How much more can he lose? Actually, no, he doesn’t want an answer to that question. Arthur used to think nothing could top being murdered by his best friend in terms of terrible experiences and, oh boy, has he been proven wrong.

“Hey…”

Wrapped in his carefully constructed cocoon of self-loathing and mourning, Arthur ignores the irritatingly cheerful voice. He is beginning to hate the sensation of sound vibrating in his chest.

“HEY!”

Of course, the demon can’t take a hint and leave him to suffer in silence.

‘What,’ Arthur projects sullenly, pulling his attention forward. As much as he would rather drown in despair, he doesn’t want the bastard to start threatening Lewis’s family again. After failing a few more times at crashing the van- Arthur doesn’t even get the merger satisfaction of freezing his body for a millisecond now the demon is on alert- this really is the very least he can do.

“We’re here. I thought you might appreciate being coherent for the visit.”

Begrudgingly, Arthur finds the motivation needed to focus on their shared soundings. Surprise, surprise, there is a lot of flat desert. However, now the expanse is broken by a single structure; Kingman Mechanics, sign dark, sitting directly ahead of them. It is the same half red-brick, half corrugated iron building it has always been, yet the exterior is cold and uninviting. It looks like one of his frozen memories, drained of all colour and lifeless. Arthur watches with mounting discontent while the demon parks and strolls up to the front door.

Wind throws dust at their eyes, forcing the demon to squint in shared discomfort. The gusts are stronger than usual, and, if Arthur were to hazard a guess based on the darkening clouds, he’d say there was a storm coming in. Overhead, grey blackens, the day begining to transition into night. Lines of police tap, positioned across the closed garage door have been pulled free and are waving about like demented hands. No sign of police, though.

“Hello! I’m home,” The demon sings out, flinging open the unlocked door, “Oh wait…I forgot. There’s no one here…”

Arthur knows the sentence is meant to upset him and hates the stab grief, which immediately shoots through his chest. The fact that he’ll never see Lance come ambling out of the side door to greet him and welcome back is painful.

“At least…There should be no one here,” The demon continues, examining the space with a more critical eye, glancing back at the open door, “That was definitely locked when I left.”

Arthur is too busy drowning in another wave to depression to care much about the reception desk, which has been pulled apart and emptied across the ground. Usually, around this time of day, Lance would either be working late or packing up, grumbling about the low lighting and his poor vision.

Casually, the demon meanders over, examining the mess left scattered on the floor. Loose paper rustles underfoot, disturbed by their approach.

“So someone’s been through here…I don’t suppose you get a lot of thieves around these parts?”

When he doesn’t respond right away, the demon prompts with a more impatient, “Are you with me back there? ”

‘No...No thieves,’ He musters, mulishly compelling his attention onto the room. Neither he nor his Uncle had been particularly vigilant about locking doors, and they’d never had an issue. Why does it even bother asking when It has all Arthur’s memories? The demon knows everything he does.

A loud snort of amusement. They move further into the building. The door to the hall is open, revealing the narrow passage leading to the equally narrow stairs. Empty and dark.

“Please, I didn’t bother keeping even half the crap you had stored up here. You think I want a few hundred hours’ worth of pathetic pining after dumb friends, or re-runs of the same repetitive daily routines, over and over and over? Trust me, I chucked that shit right out.”

They pause at the entrance to his Uncle’s small, cramped office. Like the reception, the space is a mess. Someone has turned this room as well.

“I just keep the useful and really juicy stuff. Sides, it’s not like you’re going anywhere if I ever need a refresher.”

His Uncle’s shotgun is missing. Okay, that catches his attention. That shotgun had been a fixture of the office for almost as long as Arthur can remember. The reason why the door had been religiously locked during his childhood and teen years. It’s weird to see it missing. Are the two shots kept handy in the desk drawer also missing?   Had his Uncle used them?

Of course, no sooner has he thought it, the demon is checking the draws for the shots. They are, indeed, missing.

“Now, who would come all the way out here just to steal some old gun?”

Arthur has no idea why, but, apparently, this question is rhetorical because the demon has started prowling the space, peering into filing-cabinet and at misplaced, scattered files. A patch of rustic discolouration marking the inside of the door catches their eye. Arthur feels that disconcerting predatory interest return as it picks out several other, similar, splotches. The demon reaches forward, running a finger over the nearest patch, bringing the hand up to its mouth. Arthur gets a flash of phantom nausea at the metallic taste. Blood. What he wouldn’t give to be able to throw up right now.

“Hm…” An irritated sigh, “and this is why I hate loose ends.”

The demon wipes the hand clean on Arthur’s pants. Obviously, the blood meant something more to it than to Arthur. Whoever had been here had either hurt themselves searching the room or had some pre-existing injury. Also, this had to be at least a day old, meaning the person was probably gone.

“Yes, most likely,” The demon answers his unvoiced question unprompted, “Suppose I haven’t killed as many people as I thought...How inconvenient. And here I was hoping to hit the road before sunrise, but it looks like I’ll be hunting around for this moron.”

‘If this road trip so important we should just go right now.’ He throws in half-heartedly, because damnit if a small part of him still hopes that he can stop this.

“Ha. I like the enthusiasm, but it really is nothing urgent.”

One last frown is directed at the bloodstain before they spin to head back into the hall and up the narrow stairs.

“A lot has changed in the last hundred years, and I’ve got a little catching up to do which requires a bit of travel. And then there’s this time-travel mystery to sort out. Lucky us, with a double-strength soul, this body isn’t going to burn out not nearly as fast as it should. It’ll give me the time I need to make this little partnership permeant.”

‘...,’

“The hassle I go through, I swear. Humans don’t even live that long to begin with but, all to often, you idiots just pass on for no good reason. Half the time, I’m not even siphoning that much energy. So weak.”

With the sky coved, there is bearly any natural light coming through Arthur’s bedroom window, making the room gloomy like the rest of the building. Undeterred, the demon starts to rifle through the narrow wardrobe pressed against the opposite wall, putting an end to their ‘conversation.’ While his body goes about chucking clothes onto the bed and sorting them into piles, Arthur just stares. ‘Make this little partnership permeant’…He expects the words to make him sad, sadder, or angry, but he only feels numb.

“Ugh. Your fashion sense is terrible. This baggy orange stuff is about as unflattering as clothes can get.” 

Arthur watches his body spin and pose in front of the dusty full-length mirror he has jammed into the back on his wardrobe, having spent a good half hour trying on various combinations. Black seems to be the colour of choice. No surprises there. The black shirt, dark blue jeans, and black jacket are all old and worn down. He hasn’t worn this stuff in years, meaning the clothes are a whole lot tighter than Arthur really likes. 

“I suppose this will have to do.” The demon examins a lime green scarf, and Arthur can feel the contempt directed at the only green coloured thing he owns. A gift from someone, he can’t remember who. 

“At least it’s not the ugly orange life vest.”

They make eye contact in the mirror, and Arthur mentality winces, wishing he could look away.

“You know, I bet we’d look pretty good with a proper body maintenance routine and some nice clothes. I’ve definitely had more unfortunate hosts.”

“Something to do later. Can’t be killing people 24/7 after all.”

They pack up one of the clothing piles in an old school backpack, slinging it over a shoulder before strolling across the landing into his uncle’s room. 

The demon moves with purpose, knowing exactly what it wants. Lance’s hidden stash of cash which he keeps for emergencies and his wallet. Unlike the reception and the office, both their bedrooms seem relatively intact. If the ‘thief’ had been through, they hadn’t done much to disturb anything. Maybe, if Arthur could find the motivation to care, the inconsistency would be interesting or cause for investigation. He doesn’t care.

The demon frisks the room, mentally tallying up the cash it finds. While it counts the money, Arthur’s attention is drawn to the crumpled up photo, the corner of which is poking out from Lance’s wallet. It’s of him and his uncle standing before a beat-up van. His van. This photo was taken on his eighteenth birthday. The van had been a gift. Numbly, he watches.  

The demon flips through Lance’s assorted business cards in loose motions, pulling out the photo alongside them. Money is left in the wallet, and anything deemed unimportant is dropped to the floor.

‘Wait,’ Arthur objects suddenly when they come to the photo.

“Hmm?” The demon hums, continuing to sort.

‘Keep it…please,”

A pause. “Keep what? This?”

Their vision centres on the photo. The demon pinches a corner, pulling it free, scanning it with minor interest.

‘Yeah,’ Weird how quiet he sounds, considering he isn’t actually speaking out loud.

Humour and mild exasperation follow.

“Sentiment. Thought we’d decided not to get too attached to things.”

Arthur’s not really game for another round of verbal bashing and beratement, so he doesn’t bother responding. He really wants the photo. He wants it so badly it's painful, but he’s not going to beg. Not for something like this. Some of his longings must be filtering through because the demon roles its eyes in an exaggerated movement.

“You know what? Sure. Whatever,” It shoves the photo back into the wallet, flipping it shut and shoving it into their back pocket, “We’ll keep it. Don’t say I never did anything nice though.”

Arthur reframes from voicing his opinion-nice what a joke- too relieved about having something of his Uncle’s. A reminder. 

The relief doesn’t last long.

“Speaking of sentiment. I think it’s time we go kill Lewis’s cute little family,” A fist pump and they head down out to the stairs. Fear, frustration and panic, quickly case away all other emotion. It’s his Uncle all over again. Not again. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked for the photo. No. Arthur’s sure it wouldn’t have mattered…

‘I can’t help that I care,’ He whispers miserably, a small part of him wishing desperately that he didn’t and hating himself for it. 

“Oh, I know.” They walk back out the door, slamming it shut, heading towards the van. The gravel crunches. The landscape is almost black, the invisible sun having finished setting. 

“Say bye…we’re not coming back to this dump.”

Gusts of wind rip at the newly acquired jacket. 

‘…’

“Oh, right. Haha, you can’t speak. Well, it’s the thought that counts.”

.

NOTE: HELLO! Just want to take a second to thank the aprox 20-30 return readers for this fic. I have definitely noticed u (like 30 parts in and it would be hard not to). I want to say that I am always pleased to see u return to like/reblog updates. Very motivating. This fic has been spinning its wheels while I attempt to build tension so I hope u enjoy the payoff.   

Also! thanks to the people who drop in every now and then to bulk like/reblog all the parts they missed. It never fails to catch me off guard (in a good way) when I sign in and see 10+ notes from one person. 

Part 32: here

#MSA #mystery skulls animated #fanfiction #fanfic #arthur kingsmen #the demon? #depression #angst #suicidal thoughts #asehole demon is an ashole #sad arthur is sad #Arthur bad times continue #possession

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Hold on, we’re coming (The Borderlands Series, Part 10.)

Series description: Not many people had the chance to see a vault or to mean anything in the world of Pandora. Will a hardly built relationship in the loneliness of the desert would have the potential to change anything in the world of anarchy and chaos - or will the friends try to murder each other?

Part Summary: Teaming up can be a good thing - unless your teammated are barely a useful piece of crap and more than half of them is not mentally in the best state

Warnings: A lot of guns, violence, reader is a tough badass - not a vault hunter tho. They’re badass and don’t give a fuck. And Scooter is a dumb bitch, as always.

Word count: 2 K

Tagging: @notaliteraltoad​

Series master list:  H E R E

You haven't seen, hear, or noticed Janey and Scooter the whole afternoon - which was the best thing that had happened to you over the last few weeks. As far as Hammerlock and Wainwright's hospitality went, they let you eat as much as you could, have a cup of a really strong coffee, and to have some sleep. It was painfully obvious that no-one won't have even a fucking nap during your time on Pandora and Athenas.

Wainwright was so nice that he gave each of some fresh clothes - but no matter how hard everyone tried, you were persistent with keeping the old, baggy sweatpants Rayray has decorated with the spraypaint earlier. You didn't know why, but you got a feeling of safety when you wore them. They were somehow familiar to you with their scent and everything.

Later that day, just minutes before you were about to take off from Eden-6 after picking Hammerlock, Wainwright did as he promised. A small package wrapped in what seemed like a tapestry torn off from a wall was put in front of you. And dearest Lord, weren't you just excited? Heart-eyes could be seen in your face as you sighed, thanking him with a smile. You barely smiled, but this... This was worthy of a smile.

When you opened it up, there was a fairly new silver revolver, ugh, the cravings of flowers on it were adorable. You sighed, having a total heart-eyes for the Jakobs man, touching the gun from all the angles you could. Yeah, you maybe couldn't shoot from revolvers for the deepest shit, but you weren't planning on telling Mr. Jakobs. This gun was too perfect.

"I call it the Wild Rose of Pandora. It's not that old, so it should be firing just good, miss." - Wainwright smiled and you got to the other item. To your surprise, it was an old Tediore shield. But it seemed to be working just fine. That made you look on Wainwright with a question. - "As I was informed, you're the only one who hadn't packed one, so I've searched a few of my wardrobes to find you one."

You opened your lips with surprise. Then you opened your eyes just as Scooter usually as you thought about your excuse. - "I was living in a pretty... Deep... Shithole... On Pandora. These were my neighbors, so you had the idea. We don't use shields there." - You smiled and attached the shield to some belt you were given as well because that shield would probably drag your sweatpants to your ankles.

It was a funny sight to look at the almost invisible glow that appeared on your skin. You didn't feel more protected or better in any way - that was when Athena took the revolver and shot at you, making you scream. You opened up your lips into a big O as you took the gun back and got her into your sight.

"Is everyone here fucking crazy? Am I the only fucking one reasonable?" - You yelled at Athena, making Ray and Blindy look at you. It seemed fun because you had Athena at your gunpoint, but the story couldn't be different.

"LOOK AT ALL THOSE CHICKEN!" - Ray shouted and jumped into the air with happiness. You looked at them, seeing how Blindy is chuckling at the view he was given. - "Ray! No! I'm not going to kill anyone! Why the fuck are you so keen on killing people?" - You asked and but the gun to a holder.

"If I might say, you seem to be the only one with an actual psychosis. I was just trying if its working and look at you, you're still standing and being a bitch to everyone." - Athena grinned, leaving you with Wainwright. For a moment, you just watched her back leaving before you noticed that Blindy and Ray still watching you as the second incarnation of Christ.

"What are you waiting for, fuckers? Should I start crying or... What?" - You asked coldly, making the boys leave you alone with Wainwright. That was when you got some proper heart-eyes again. - "Thank you for the gun and shield, it means much to me. I hope it's going to help in any way."

"Sure thing, miss. I hope that you will keep an eye on Hammerlock while I won't be there." - Wainwright smiled back at you and you simply nodded, making the promise sealed. You hoped that you won't have your ass blew or neck cut as soon as you get somewhere.

"Everyone ready?" - Athena asked the rest of the party, preparing to initiate the fast travel process. Everyone shut up when you walked to the machine first. Athena's hand on your arm stopped you from putting your palm there. - "Step aside and don't act like you know everything."

"What have I done to you? First, you shoot at me, then you tell me I'm acting like an asshole, let's just get done. I'm going to go first, you come after me. I can manage the jackasses on the other side." - You mumbled and pushed the palm off of you. Athena kept her eyes on you, but she stepped aside just as you looked on the others.

"Whatever happens on the other side, keep this asshole alive, because I'm not willing to have my head blown off my fucking body because hed die. Are we on the same wave here?" - You asked and when everyone nodded, you put your palm into the device. You didn't have too many chances to try Fast travel either - but boy oh boy, you preferred it when all the next travel devices you had were actual rockets.

You kinda forgot about the pull the machine had and about the small needles that the machinery stuck into your palm and forearm. You put your fingers together while the other looked at the machine pulling you in. Or that was how the others were seeing it - in reality, the machine was taking your DNA material from one place while it started recreating your body on the other side. It felt like proper tearing you apart.

When you gained consciousness in the final destination, you fell flat on your back; onto your whole fucking shotgun in its glory. You couldn't see for a fucking a step away from you, you didn't know what was happening - you only heard yourself screaming. - "Motherfucker! Is everyone on this fucking planet a psycho bitch?"

"Tina! Had you moved the Fast travel on the roof again?" - A tired, drunk voice asked someone. You heard a chuckle next to your head and someone had bowed down to you. It was a girl, who gripped your t-shirt and dragged you away since another of your friends started Fast travel.

"Because it's fun, Mordy! You should see this one! It was so cute when she fell on her back, I almost felt the spinal cords crackin', blood rushin', and bones flyin' out of her body!" - The lady yelled victoriously, having on a big smile. Without realizing, you scaredly pushed the gun into her face. The only thing she did was that she kicked it out of your palms.

"This one's reaaaally funny, Mordy, you should see her! She just pushed a revolver up ma face like she thinks that momma Tina is afraid of these child toys!" - She yelled at Mordy, which had probably saved your ass, because otherwise, Tina would've tied you up to a bomb, watching how high can your ass fly up into the sky. The man with the alcohol bottle came to you and put Tina's foot off of you. She was obviously offended by what he has done, but she chose just to put her forearms in front of her chest and to look at both of you with a furrow.

"That's the gal from Scooter, you psychotic ass." - Mordecai said to defend you, but that was all he could say before something just assaulted your face. You've had enough at that point. You were on the verge of completely shutting down mentally... And that wasn't flattering at all. Youve learned seconds after that the the thing was Talon, some birdy pet that obviously belonged to Mordecai.

You were saved - because at that moment both Janey and Athena fell flat on their backs too. - "See? That's what I mean, Mordy. They are little cutesy things just fallin' down from the motherhumpin' sky waitin' for me to grill them with some great sauce and eat them!" - Tina exclaimed and then she stopped, putting her hands on her hips. - "Why do I wanna eat cute stuff?"

"Fallin' from ten meters isn't cute at all!" - Janey huffed angrily, helping you on your feet. - "Yo guys need to better up your safety conditions or one day, there might die someone!" - She looked at both of them, checking up if you're alive - so, naturally, you shushed her off. You might have been out of breath, but you weren't dying. So far, so good.

"Okay, okay, miss rude temper problems, I'll put it somewhere on the ground so you people who can't handle a bit of fun won't die out of spine crack." - Tina rolled her eyes while Mordecai slowly approached you, both Janey and you, having a sorry look on his face. - "Since Brick left Boomtown to handle some other stuff, she's been like that. I swear that normally, she doesn't tell people she'll eat them the first time she sees them."

"Is fine, ma name's Janey and this gal is Y/N! Scooter has a thingy for her so she's kinda in the family business now!" - Janey explained happily and that was when Tina joined your conversation. She gripped your shoulders as both bandit boys fell down on their back, following each of you with being out of breath and almost dying. Before Tina could say something else, Ray was too quick with his word.

"THIS BITCH EMPTY. YEET!" - He yelled and from literal nowhere, Tina pulled of some kind of crazy Maliwan gun, pointing directly onto his freaking forehead. You furrowed, put your palms in front of yourself to clam her down a bit. - "He's with us and he cool, I swear, girl." - You mumbled, not realizing that you're standing directly under the Fast travel station spawning point. Tina rose her chin a bit, watching you standing there, then she smiled and put the Maliwan gun away.

"'ight, I believe you, Scooter's soon-to-be wedded wife. I love weddings! Mordy, tell her I love weddings! I love how everyone seems to be soooo happy until you show the bomb you got them for a present before it all blows up!" - She yelled maniacally. You wanted to defend yourself but at that moment, Scooters butt fell on you. You grunted, thinking something about killing someone, shooting in the air, or booming the whole fucking Boomtown. - "Look! Ya boyfriend is here! Oh, am I softenin' or is this extremely romantic?" - She bit her lip, leaning to look at you both. As soon as you were sure that Scooter is too alive, you basically threw him off your thighs.

This whole adventure was fucking you up mentally, not even speaking about your physical side. You wanted to sit down into the corner and cry. Once even Hammerlock made it there, you moved the Fast Travel station and started another part of your totally flawless plan - making your way to Athenas.

#borderlands #borderlands 2 #scooter Borderlands #Borderlands fanfic #scooter #tiny tina is not so tiny #mordecai is still an alcoholic #brick is still off to his own work #hammerlock and wainwright are the cutest #and stuff

[ronaelew]

Living With The Mikaelsons (pt1)

Parings: Klaus x Oc, Elijah x Oc, Kol x Oc, Finn x Oc

Summary: Klaus finds out that anyone from the Petrova bloodline can create more hybrids. upon finding this out he gives up on Elena and takes a chance by kidnapping her younger sister, Anna. She goes with him willingly but will she regret her decision when she becomes immersed in a world of original vampires and complicated affairs?

Warnings: None in this Chapter

Feel free to leave feedback:)

————

I slowly awoke from my restless sleep. Light burned my eyes, and I was met with cold air instead of my cosy comforter. I was not a morning person to say the least. But what made it even worse was that this was not my room.

This was not the pale blue walls that was my bedroom. No. I was on a four poster bed with a golden mesh canopy flowing down. This was a bed built for kings and queens. The room outside of the bed only made my agree with my statement further. There was a large wooden armchair in the far corner of the room. Adorned with a golden pillow. A coffee table was to the right of it. It sat snuggly next to the window.

I looked to my left and was met with drawers and a gigantic wardrobe. I'm pretty sure me, Elena and Jeremy could fit in there easily. Wait, Elena!

She must be so worried. I had only seen her last night. I mumbled a quick 'good night' before stumbling up the stairs and that was it. I didn't even say I love you.

I took a breath. I couldn't let myself panic. It was only increase the pleasure of my captors. And anyway, I'm sure Stefan and Damon would find me soon. Elena wouldn't just leave me here, and they would do anything she asked of them. I was going to be completely fine. I hope.

I was drawn out of thoughts by the opening of the double doors. And there he stood. As terrifying as ever. The one and only, Niklaus. Personally I had never met him, but I had been informed that he was the literal spawn of Satan and could not be trusted under any circumstances. He smiled at me with a toothy grin.

"sleeping beauty has awoken! I was beginning to think you had died on me," he smirked coming closer.

"what can I say, I like sleeping," I said with a lazy smile. I took a moment to stretch my arms and click my neck before returning my attention to the hybrid in front of me. He seemed a little taken back by my easy-going nature around him. I could tell he wasn't use to it.

"well feel free to continue, Love. I'll just be down the hall plotting the death of your loved ones," he crooned and took a couple of steps closer to me. I could tell he was trying to scare me into submission, but I refused to play his games. I just smiled.

"okie dokie. Could you shut the door on your way out? I teased further.

suddenly I was being held down on the bed by my throat. Klaus snarled on top of me, his eyes flashing a luminous yellow.

"and I thought your sister had a death wish. Does stupidity run in the family?" He questioned rhetorically.

I looked up at him with apologetic eyes. I guess I had pushed him a bit too far. I know he had kidnapped me and had threatened to put an end to my friends and family but I should try to pay nice with him while I remained in his company.

"I'm sorry, I can see I upset you. That wasn't my intention," I tried smiling again but I was slowly running out of air. Klaus seemed to realise this and he removed his hand.

"it would do you well not to test me, little Gilbert," he smirked once again.

"yes Sir. May I ask, why am I being held here?"

"well love, it turns out that anyone from the doppelgänger bloodline can create new hybrids. So, I chose you. You are much easier to capture than your sister." He was now sitting on the edge of the bed and grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"so little one, you have a choice. You can behave like a good little girl or I can let you go and take Elena or Jeremy instead. And I won't be as lenient with them."

my breath became caught in my throat and for the first time since I had woken up I felt utterly defeated. I had no real choice. I wouldn't let harm come to my siblings. I had to give in to Niklaus. I would give him my blood if it meant he would leave my family alone.

"I will give you my blood and cooperate with you without hassle but I have conditions," I started. He already looked intrigued.

"I want you to tell Damon and Stefan not to let Elena come looking for me. Secondly, I want to leave mystic falls it'll be even worse for her if she continues to see you around. And lastly, I want your word that I will come to no harm by your hands. Against my better judgement, I trust you and you know that I am the only one of my family that would go with you this easily."

Klaus nodded thoughtfully and looked up at me with true sincerity and said, "you have my word."

I let out a sigh of relief. And looked back at he to see him smiling again.

"I didn't think you'd agree so quickly and with so little demands. Most of which help me as well."

he shot up quickly and stalked over to the drawers. He opened the second one and pulled out a pair of underwear and a bra to match. He threw them at me and walked out the door without so much as a word.

he soon came back with a pair of baggy jogging bottoms that would be far to big for me and an oversized hoodie.

"change into those. We hit the road in half an hour. There will be more suitable clothes at our destination," he said handing me the large clothes.

"thank you." he nodded curtly and for a split second he genuinely smiled. But it was gone as soon as it appeared and so was he. During my period of staring, he had just turned around and walked away.

-----

I dared to venture out of the room and down the stairs where Klaus was waiting eagerly. He was dressed in jeans and a shirt and he had a large suitcase with him. I walked up to him and smiled tiredly. I had only been awake for an hour and the idea of sleep seemed so very appealing.

"come on love. The car is waiting."

he placed his hand on the small of my back and Goosebumps erupted along my skin. His touch sent shivers running down my spine. I mean, can you blame me? Although he was evil and dark, he was also menacingly handsome. No one could deny that. Not even Elena herself. Damon and Stefan couldn't hold a candle to him.

Ugh what the hell was I thinking?! I couldn't think he was cute! He killed Jenna and kind of killed Elena! And now he's kidnapped me! He clearly has no morals or conscience. How could I even think about him like that? Was there something wrong with me? Perhaps a year of supernatural drama had finally caught up with me.

"well, are you going to get in or just stare at the car until it evaporates?" Klaus spat obviously wanted to leave already.

"yeah, sorry," I mumbled as I climbed into the passengers seat. Klaus sped round and was plugged in and turning on the engine before I had time to shut the damn door. The car was nice and warm, and the seats were comfy. I almost snuggled into what I assumed to be Klaus' hoodie. All of a sudden Klaus passed me a thin, furry blanket.

"its going to be a long ride, get comfortable," he huffed before revving the engine. I tucked the blanket around me and adjusted myself, so my back was to the hybrid. But I squeezed my eyes shut so that I wouldn't have to say goodbye to the town that I called home. This tactic worked, but it also made me drowsy. And even though I was in the company of a homicidal maniac, I fell asleep quite easily.

#klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #finn mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #the mikaelsons #mikaelsons imagine #living with the mikaelsons #polyamory #fanfic

[dancingwithdylan21]

No Longer You

Summary: Now a shell of her former self, the reader runs into an old flame.

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Word Count: 1,781

Warning: implying an abusive relationship

~

Green cancels out red.

Yellow cancels out purple and brown…no purple and blue.

And lavender cancels out…yellow?

Jesus Christ. This shouldn’t be that difficult, hiding the evidence of your home life is now a normal occurrence. The three concussions you’ve acquired over the years must be catching up to you.

You’re squinting harshly at the Revlon concealers on the top shelf before you at the supermarket. Trying and failing to remember which ones work the best, basically whatever hides the fucking truth.

Your exhausted brain is practically mush at this point in time, you used to know this shit. You used to know a lot of shit. You used to be a strong, independent take no bullshit kind of a woman that took care of herself. But things clearly change. People fucking change.

You’re feeling a bit woozy at the moment, either from the lack of food or from the lack of focus, you’re not sure which. Moving backwards you try to control your balance, causing you to stumble into an older woman passing by.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” You spin around to apologize, immediately regretting the fast movement.

“You ok, honey?” The woman asks eyeing you too closely for your liking.

The automatic judgement is something you’ve become accustomed to over the years. You’re convinced it chips off a piece of your pathetic heart each time.

“I’m fine. Thanks.” You barely mumble turning away from her in the makeup aisle. You can still feel unwelcomed eyes on you, aggravated you silently command yourself to just breathe.

“Y/N?”

You freeze from the sound of your name although you’re more concerned with the deep voice saying it. It can’t be him…can it? For the love of all things holy, please let it not be him.

“Y/N?” Stiles slightly hesitates, awkwardly staring as if you’ll run away any second.

You turn around painfully slow, stalling what’s about to take place. Your eyes lock, immediately waking something in you that you’ve been suppressing for years. Hope.

“Stiles.” You let out a heavy sigh as your chest tightens, you struggle wanting the pressure to dissipate as quickly as it came. Your body’s way of warning you, an asthma attack is on the horizon.

Out of habit, your eyes dart around the aisle, clearly paranoid about your surroundings. You quickly scan the area, assessing what you can. Where you are, who’s around, what’s being said and who’s listening.

“Wow. It’s been awhile.” He half heartedly chuckles, trying to keep his shocked reaction at bay. If it wasn’t for your sweet voice catching his attention, Stiles would have kept strolling right by you. Completely and totally oblivious that the love of his life is near.

“Yeah…six years.” You offer him your best fake smile, praying that time has ruined Stiles’ memory of you.

He doesn’t react, at least not in a negative way. Did he become an amazing actor? Or did he forget the look of your real smile? Either way, it makes you both relieved and disappointed. Stop it, Y/N. The last thing you want or need is to trap Stiles fucking Stilinski into this shitshow you call a life.

“What are you doing here? Last I heard you moved to...I think New York...for an architect job?” Ugh. You can barely remember shit anymore. It doesn’t help that you moved a few towns over, cutting off all ties with everyone that you cared about.

Stiles’ stomach drops, his mouth turns dry and he’s debating if he should tell you the truth. Worried what your reaction will be, he nervously decides against it. At least for now. You’ll find out soon enough what he’s been doing with his life. He silently makes that promise to you.

“Yeah. Scott and Alison still live close by with their daughter Kelly. She just turned two years old and they’re having a big party for her. So I’m just visiting everyone.”

“Huh. I bet they make great parents.” You mutter glaring down at your gorgeous, princess cut diamond ring that’s fucking mocking you. It’s become the only bright, attractive thing left in your god damn world.

“Yup they do.” Stiles nods following your gaze down to the giant rock on your bony finger.

“You’ve obviously settled down yourself. Any rugrats?”

“Nah…no kids. Its not something I want.” You shrug nonchalantly, eyes fixating on anything but your ex boyfriend.

“Really? You always wanted kids. Or at least one.” Stiles frowns eyeing you suspiciously. Shit.

“You couldn’t wait to have a little boy so you could dress him up in baseball caps and skull t-shirts.” Stiles snickers at the memory, your face would light up when you used to talk about it.

“Things change.” You add softly, realizing he will never know the actual truth.

Stiles barely nods in response, the restraint it’s taking to keep his mouth shut is nearly killing him. He doesn’t know specifics but he knows for sure that something isn’t fucking right.

Stiles has missed you terribly since the breakup, the amount of regret he deals with on a daily basis is sometimes overwhelming. It doesn’t matter how much whiskey he knocks back or how many girls he takes to bed, you’re always hiding in the corner of his mind.

And now here you are in the flesh, standing before him and you’re not her. It’s a total mindfuck, to be honest Stiles misses you even more now. Or at least the version of you that was his. The current version of you is breaking his fucking heart.

Glancing at your cuticles, he sees how marked and cut up they are from where you’ve repeatedly torn off the skin. You always pick at them when you’re anxious or upset. It’s an automatic tell of yours.

Your nails - usually perfectly trimmed and painted, are now ragged and thin. The texture of your hair looks dry and fried, the color and cut something you’d never choose six years ago.

Your wardrobe, once playful and always stylish is now drabby and depressing. You wouldn’t be caught dead in the oversized clothing you’re wearing right now. Even with the baggy clothes, Stiles can see how thin and fragile you’ve become. Which confuses him slightly based on the shopping cart in front of you.

It’s filled to the brim, the amount of junk food alone would make anyone gain weight. Weirdly enough, he doesn’t see one thing of yours that’s a favorite. Being a creature of habit, he would’ve bet money you still liked the same guilty pleasures.

You strangely keep favoring your right leg. It wouldn’t be obvious to many people but Stiles knows you’re usually full of energy, moving around even when standing still. So the fact that you’re not annoyingly restless is a huge red flag.

One of many at this point.

You know Stiles is dissecting your appearance in his mind right now but you refuse to acknowledge it. This surprise encounter is hard enough, seeing the best part of your past standing in front of you is torture.

Thinking back you realize the breakup was a stupid solution, the fights you two had seem so lame and unimportant now but you were young. Young and stupid. Still being with Stiles was the greatest time of your inevitably short life.

It’s not like you haven’t tried to create distance between you and your personal hell. There were other factors in play that wouldn’t let it happen. Your husband being a police officer has stalled every getaway plan you’ve tried.

You left in the middle of the night once, an APB was sent out so fast you barely made it two towns over. And reporting to the police was a joke, your husband made up mental problems for your “erratic behavior”. They knew the truth but it didn’t change a fucking thing.

Growing up in a family of cops, you know how they take care of their own. How easily they sweep shit under the rug if needed, unfortunately you were one of those things swept away. So he’s still “serving and protecting” the city while you suffer in silence.

“Are you…are you okay, Y/N?” Stiles asks concern overtaking his handsome features.

“Of course.”

“You don’t seem ok to me. You don’t even seem like the same girl.” He adds hesitantly.

“You’ve always been one for the dramatics, Stiles. I’m doing great.”

“You’re lying.” Stiles quietly growls, trying to control his anger.

“You haven’t seen me in a long time, Stilinski. Maybe you just don’t know me as well as you used to.” You glare now getting angry yourself.

“Right. You’re right.” Stiles snaps aggravated. “I don’t know you anymore. I don’t know your life or your husband. Or the reason why you no longer want children. Shit changes I guess, huh?”

“Exactly.”

“Well I’ve had fun strolling down memory lane but I have to go. Take care of yourself, sweetheart.”

“You too, Stiles.” You respond softly, doing everything in your power not to break down.

“I hope you find the happiness you’ve been pretending to have, Y/N.” Stiles adds bitterly, barely making eye contact as he leaves you behind.

The pure sadness in your eyes hits Stiles hard as he stalks away from you. He hates causing you any kind of pain but unfortunately it’s necessary for his plan to work. It’s blatantly obvious your home life is keeping you prisoner and there’s no way in hell that’s going to continue.

Stiles chose to hold back an important piece of information during your awkward conversation. He’s been working for the FBI for years now, using the architect job as a cover. Stiles always refrained from looking you up in the FBI database. That doesn’t mean he hasn’t been tempted, he could just never bring himself to do it.

It’s not like he expected to find anything negative - just the opposite. He assumed you were married with kids by now and living a full happy life. The kind you’ve always wanted and deserved. The kind he always thought he could never give you. Stiles is now kicking himself for being so fucking selfish. Maybe he could have saved you sooner if he put his god damn feelings aside.

The choice to keep you in the dark wasn’t an easy one but it’s for the best. You’re barely holding it together as it is, he doesn’t need any outside factors affecting his plan. He can’t risk your demeanor changing and it tipping off your douchebag husband.

Stiles has never been more determined in his entire life than he is right now. He’s going to save you, love you and do whatever it takes to see your beautiful, genuine smile again.

~

Masterlist 

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski au #stiles x reader #scott mccall #alison argent #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #teen wolf #teen wolf au #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien fanfic #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinski fanfiction #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fanfic #mitch rapp x reader #dave hodgman x reader #stuart twombly x reader #stiles stilinski reader insert #dylan o'brien reader insert #mitch rapp reader insert

[wipstoriesandart]

W.I.P. Chapter 10

Sorry it took so long, I have a few other chapters already wrote out just have to find time to type it out. ____________________ Mady Made her way back to her apartment. Her purse had not been large enough to carry the Bed boxes, clothing, and toys. So the Shelter had provided her with a toat. “Madam, i assure you such extravagance were unessasarry,” Alpha sighed from her shoulder looking upon the bags once more.

“I know they were not necessary, but i thought this stuff might help make my home more like your home to,” She smiled. “I’m sure i could have acquired the needed items for the pups and i,” He looked at the new plastic carrier in her arms ware Stretch and Button slept. “I’m more than sure you could have, but i wanted to help. After all you’ve done so much for the boys already when keeping them safe on the streets I don't see any harm in me getting you all some basics,” She shrugged feeling everything she got was justifiable. “Ordering a Large cat house styled activity center, dishware, signing Alpha up for a Bitty Book club, and a full on wardrobe for all three of us, despite your sewing abilities, that all counts as basics?” Stretch asked from his “sleeping” spot without opening his eyes. “Ok so i lavished a bit. But if it ends up no one likes the bitty tree i'm sure we can find someone to buy it. Plus i need to practice making cloths again and from the ones i bought i can get some patterns, plus you three will need something to wear in the meantime.” “Just try not to spend what you can’t afford to get. I do not want you wasting Money you worked so hard to get,” Alpha sounded as if he were disappointed. “I spent it on you three, yout three needed these things. So it wasn't a waist. Though i'm surprised Button didn't get meany toys.” She looked down at the sleeping Bitty child. “He was far more happy to have been able to visit others like us, and thrilled over the cloths. Plus he already has a plethora at home,” Alpha stated. “True, I still thought he would want more than just a teddy bear his size.” She gave a partial frown as she entered her apartment building. Snow gave a happy wave as Maddy approached her. “Miss. Drake do you need anything?” She held her smile as she gave a nod in greeting to Alpha, who returned the nod like bow. “Sort of. I ordered a Bitty activity center. It was to big for me to carry so it will be delivered here. I still have a few errands to run but was wondering if i left my key with you if you wouldn't mind letting them up the elevator?” Snow’s ears perked up, “Oh! Of course!” she smiled. “Thanks snow, i'm going to drop this stuff off up stairs then i will bring you the keys.” Maddy placed the items she had gotten, at least in the areas they were meant for the clothing and bed boxes in the bitty room, along with the books she got for alpha and extra bedding she purchased She placed a few extra teddy's she got Button on his bed, she managed to sneak them into the basket while he was playing with a foot tall Papy Mini-marrow. With the extra items free from her purse the carrier case fit snugly inside she opened the top so if button or Stretch wished they could come out should they wake or chose to look out.  She took a small dolly cart she had purchased to help mostly with laundry or for helping to bring up items to much for herself to carry. She dropped off the key with Snow and looked upon the list as she walked. Everything alpha had put for supplies he or the other two would need had been brought along with far more than he asked. Only thing left was food shopping. Upon reaching the grocery store she left her empty baggies and dolly cart with the cashier as she always did on their very rare days she would go shopping. She set her purse holding the carrier into the shopping cart seat ment for children, making sure it was safe  and unlikely to fall over. Button was still curled up asleep beside Stretch. Maddy placed Alpha in beside them as she looked over the list. “There are a lot of fruit and Veggies on this list…. I thought you ate raw meat?” Maddy questioned heading to the fresh produce area. “Yes i do need raw meat, i still enjoy a salad and fresh fruit. But given what i seen of your old diet. I made a weekly meal plan that should be easily enough to fallow. And given your work schedule I plan on making them. And i refuse to feed my pack junk.” He seemed very adamant about on the subject. “Alright… though i hope your weekly meal plan accounts for Bi-weekly pizza night alternating taco pizza and sausage-mushroom,” she started picking up different veggies and fruits all that were on the list, even a large 10 lbs of potatoes… though she hadn't bought them in a long time she did know somewhat of how to tell if food was ripe or not. Alpha gave a single nod in approval, “yes i can accommodate for that. Two pizza’s a month should be pred out enough not to be come to unhealthy.” “Your really going to take turns Mamma?” Button sat up rubbing his eyes. “Of course. I told you we can get it once in a while, So now we each can have the pizza we like once a month,” she spoke as she examined the green peppers. Maddy caught sight of a woman staring her and her cart down. With a Glaring stare Maddy slowly pushed her cart further down the aisle. She didn't know that woman and didn't like how she was staring. Maddy was nearing the end of the fresh produce section, but let out a groan as it seemed the woman didn't get the hint and was now walking toward them. She scooped up alpha and set him in the carrier with Button and Stretch. “Mother what's wrong?” Button asked hugging Alpha. But before Maddy could answer the woman was there. “Do you have a Bitty in there?” She gave a smile that reminded Maddy of the plastic debutantes on beauty pageants. “Three. Is there something i can help you with?” Maddy had a expression of less than pleasantry. She was not in the mood to deal with people. She didn't take her eyes off the woman as she closed the carrier hatch roof blocking the three from the woman's sight. The Woman smiled, “Well my sweet little Yanny is an only bitty,” Her pristeen makeup and flawlessly done hair only added to Maddy’s irritation, and the overly perfumed area was not helping ether. “Well good for them,” Maddy attempted to walk away but the woman put a hand upon the shopping cart holding it in place. “He is such a sweetheart,” She smiled at Maddy beaming as if waiting for Maddy to respond to a unasked question. After a moment of Maddy’s eye twitching and the idiot woman just smiling at her Maddy asked, “Lady, What Exactly do you want?” her patients were wearing very thin. “What do you mean?” she looked agasped and confused as if maddy asked if she ate babies. “I mean nothing of my demeanor should have read “Please-come-over-i-care-to-waste-my-time-talking-to-an-idiot” I try to walk away you grab ahold of my cart. Look i work double shifts down at the hospital, my free days are few and far between. I don't like wasting my free time babbling and chucking like a chicken. I have shopping to get done so unless you have something useful or actually worth my time. Let. Go. of My Cart. So i may finish shopping.” The woman let go of Her cart to place her hand over her chest in a gasp, someone snorted though who went unseen as maddy took the opportunity to walk off, letting out a mutter of idiotic Morning people. “Mamma.. That wasn't nice…” Button muttered. “True, But she had a point. That lady was a stranger and had no right to hold onto the cart and try to keep her there like that.” Maddy smiled, “Nice to know i have your approval in that Stretch.” Finishing the list quickly, grabbing a few Microwave meals to take with her to work. In the check out, Maddy seen the Woman checking out. She stuck her nose up in the air with a hurummf, before paying and leaving. Thankfully the walk back was uneventful, though Alpha Insisted upon sitting on her Shoulder for a better vantage point again. “Ugh, I’m getting a headache , You boys mind if we stop at a coffee shop on the way home?” “What is so great about a coffee shop?” Stretch asked. “Well they have different coffees, and types of drinks, even Muffins and some baked goods. The one i like even has ice cream for milk shakes, sandwiches and soups,” Maddy explained. Alpha was silent on the matter. “I want some ice cream!” Button called. “I’m sure Alpha had dinner planned so i don't think we can stay long, but i don't think a cup of coffee and a bit of ice cream would take to long.” She was thankful she didn't splurge on the freezer goods as she walked up to the orders here counter. “I’ll have a Grasshopper Mochachino, and a trial size cup of ice cream with three small spoons of… What flavor do you boys want to try?” “I-i’ve never been aloud ice cream…” Button looked nervous… “Me ether,” stretch shrugged. Maddy didn't notice the man looking very confused as she talked into her purse, “well then why not try vanilla this time? Then if you boys like it we can try another flavor next time?” “OK!” button exclaimed vibrating happily. “One try me sized vanilla,” Maddy smiled to the Barista who seemed rather spooked but quickly got the small cup. Maddy paid for the drink and took a seat. She opened the carrier and helped Button out smiling as Stretch also climbed onto her hand. “Madam… are such sweets necessary?” Alpha asked teleporting beside the two. “Maybe not necessary. But the boys did behave well at the shelter. Plus it does have a lot of calcium in it. So not only is it a treat but it can help with the order Doc gave,” She smiled. He sighed in defeat, “Very well Madam.” Maddy watched smiling as Button took one of the spoons and a small poke of a dot of the ice cream and licked, his eye pupil turning into a heart shape. “It's cold!” he explained. “It is. It's a frozen sweet cream… though i think they add a few other ingredients,” Stretch was just as cautious at first, but then seemed to enjoy it as he ate, He wasn’t as visually thrilled as button though, as the younger bitty seemed to be getting more on him then in him. Maddy’s drink was brought to her in a to go cup, as she watched the cute sight before leaving. …. It was a mistake. The ice cream was a Massive Mistake. Button not only was covered in ice cream causing Maddy to need to clean the inside of the carrier, but the small bitty was bouncing around wanting to play fight, talk a mile a moment, and poor stretch was groaning from a stomach ache. “Maddy!” Snow greatted happily. “Oh! Snow hi.” She paused though felt she should get the boys home. “They delivered your package, Is everything alright? You look ready to sprint..” “I gave the boys ice cream and it seems the ice cream isn't agreeing with Stretch, and Button is-” “Mamma … i don't feel so well…” the noise that followed caused Maddy to cringe. “-is in need of a bath…” Maddy finished. “Oh my… well here is your key. I won't keep you,” She looked at the carrier pitifully. “Thanks snow. Oh and if you have time later on, I need to get a few recommendations on stores where i can get the boys some magic infused Foods, The doctor at the shelter suggested for the boys diet.” The rabbit Monster’s ears perked right back up, “Oh of course dear! I’d even be willing to take you one of these days.” She smiled handing Maddy her key. “That sounds great, thanks. And i'm sorry to just dart off.” Maddy apologized. “Oh no worries” the rabbit woman assured as Maddy darted to the elevator. As soon as they got into the apartment, alpha turned into his larger size and took the carrier from Maddy, He pulled each of the two out and set them gently on the counter as he started the water. “I will clean the pups up Madam,” Alpha gave a nod as he set to work, Maddy felt guilty and useless but a thought came to mind and she quickly went to the bathroom. Then darted to the Bitty room. Gathering pajamas for each of the two. And Brought them to the kitchen. “Um… Alpha?” her voice was quiet and unsure. He looked over at her confused. “I brought some sleepwear for the boys. And put a hot water bottle under their bedding. I don't fully know if it will help them but i know it helps me when i get an upset stomach.” Alpha looked at the cloths in her hand then to her face and her worried expression he lowered his hand and cupped her face lifting it up to bring their foreheads together. “That is wonderful. Thank you Madam.” He gently nuzzled her before taking the cloths and setting them aside. To keep from going stir crazy, Maddy began putting away the food trying to be as organized as she could. “Mamma,” Button called out for her weakly. “Yes Baby?” Her attention snapped to him. “Can Stretch and i sleep in your bed with you?” Alpha had cleaned and dressed them, but was waiting for her reply. “Of course you can sugar skull. Does stretch want to go thought? I don't want to stress-” “It's fine,” he bit out, almost irritably. “Well alright then, i’ll go get the heating pad i put in your room and bring it to mine.” Maddy was quick to set up their bedding and hot water bottle into her own bed. “Madam, i'm sure you're tired, perhaps you would like to dress for bed as well,” Alpha suggested a pair of Pj’s sitting upon her bed, “I will wake you when it’s time to eat.” “Thank you Alpha,” she took the cloths and changed in the bedroom. She opened the Medicine cabinet to grab pills for later on, only to find… they were gone. Her sleeping pills were missing. “Madam?” Alpha called from outside the door. “Ya just second Alpha… I'm just looking for something,” had she misplaced them? She could have sworn the bottle was near full… strange. “Madam?” ALpha had teleported into the room. “I can’t seem to find a bottle of pills i had, i use them to help me sleep.  I was going to set them on my nightstand for later. But the whole Bottle is gone.” “I am aware of those poisons and their absence,” he gave a single nod. “Oh? Did you move them?” She asked, again a nod from Alpha, “Oh ok, Well ware did you put them?” She felt a bit calmer knowing she hand forgotten ware she placed them. “I destroyed them,” He stood his arms behind his back reminiscent of a military “at ease” pose. Maddy blinked unsure she heard that right, “Y-you destroyed them?” again a nod, “Why? I need those to help with my weird sleep schedule.” “If i recall Madam, you only had a strange sleep schedule due to how much you worked. And only worked so much so you didn't have to come back to an empty Den. I’m sure you are more responsible than to leave your den and pack for as long as you claimed,” He spoke almost Matter of fact, “Besides i am more than confident in my tea and aroma methods, but should they falter…” He closed his eyes with a huff as if the words were painful to say, “i will get you more of that filth.” She paused frowning, “Alpha, as i'm sure you felt yourself justified in your actions. Next time you go to get rid of something of mine, that I do not deem garbage will you please ask me first? Or at least check to make sure if it can be tossed out. I'm willing to make changes and compromises but i do not appreciate a decision like that being made for me without having a say in it.” Alpha stood taking in what she said his eyes having shown ralization upon her getting near to the end of her rant, “My deepest apologies Madam,” He gave a bow, “I had not meant to rob you of your choice. I will try to be more considerate of such things in the future.” he gave another bow. “Thank you,” she walked back into her room and laid down near Button and Stretch. Before to long Button had moved and curled up within the crook of her neck. Alpha watched as the three rested Once he was sure all three were asleep he seat out to search once more. ___________________ Next First Previous

#work in progress #Chapter 10 #rewrite w.i.p.

[sabraeal]

You know the picture where Suzu's wearing Obi's clothes? Could you write Suzu trying to be cool? Thank you for writing!

Yuzuri has been working for nearly five whole minutes, and the door resembles a pincushion more than a lock.

“Hurry up,” Suzu hisses, leaning his chin on her shoulder. Her hair smells like orchids, just like it always does, and that plus the three – or was it five? – pints tonight makes his knees a little weak. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

She flicks her ponytail like she’s trying to get rid of a particularly nettlesome fly. “Yes! Obi showed me himself a year ago. After you told him that story about how I got locked in the stockroom with Kenichi for half a night.” Her gaze cuts to him, hazy with alcohol but still blazing. “Why did you tell him that anyway? That happened ages ago. You know he gets.”

“Are you really complaining that he taught you how to pick locks?” he asks into the soft skin of her neck. This is probably too close, far too close, but she isn’t stopping him, so.

She shivers.

“N-no,” she snaps, petulant. “But he did his whole worried bodyguard thing. Kept cracking jokes and then would get all serious; now you don’t have to worry about your habit of getting into tight spots, Yuzuri –” she drops her voice and octave, suddenly grave – “but I’ll always come if you call for me.”

“It’s nice.” Her cheeks flush. “But it makes me feel like he’s – I don’t know, my father.”

He hums, breath huffing over her neck. She drops a hair pin.

“Do you mind?” she asks crossly. “I’m trying to work here.”

“Fine.” He stumbles a little further down the hallway, letting Yuzuri cuss at the lock in peace – he wonders if Obi will notice that someone tried to pick it in his absence. Probably.

Shirayuki’s room is next to his, as always, and Suzu stares at it for a long moment. Didn’t they have an argument just last week, something about how Shirayuki never takes her own safety seriously –?

He reaches down, turning the knob, and oh –

Oh yeah, Obi would probably be pissed about this.

Shirayuki’s room is dark, the lamps out and curtains drawn – makes sense, since she’s working the late shift in the pharmacy tonight – but still air holds some of her scent.

“You could get robbed,” he tells the empty room, horrified on Obi’s behalf. Shirayuki’s too, but – she’s the one who left it like this.

He sees another door to his right, and -- it can’t possibly be this easy, it’s got to be some sort of prank, Obi’s going to be waiting for him –

“Oh wow.” His gaze sweeps out to find Obi’s much more spartan room empty. “Really?”

How does he even lecture her on security when he leaves their adjoining door unlocked? I mean –

He glances at the knob. It only locks one way. It’s not Obi who has control over whether its open or not.

Oh. Oh. Suzu grimaces. Sometimes life just isn’t fair.

The door bursts open behind him, Yuzuri spilling into the room with a yelp. She stares up at him from the floor with a grin.

“I did it!” she tells him. A moment later her brow furrows. “Wait, how are you in here?”

“Shirayuki’s room.” He gestures to the adjoining door. “It was unlocked.”

Yuzuri’s eyebrows tilt up in mild surprise. “She leaves the door between them unlocked?”

He shrugs. It’s more surprising that she leaves her other door unlocked, but all right. He knows where Yuzuri’s priorities lie.

She rolls up to her feet, peering through the door. “Huh, and still nothing’s happened?”

He doesn’t know how to explain to her that Obi can’t just make it happen; he can’t just make Shirayuki fall in love with him, he can’t just invite himself into her room and kiss her until she’ll never let him leave.

Instead he says, “We should get started, or else Obi’s going to catch us.”

Yuzuri grimaces. “Yeah, okay, good point.”

“Do you think we’re going about this wrong?” Suzu asks some time later, flipping through stacks of correspondence. “I mean, can’t we just ask him what he’d like for his birthday?”

Yuzuri stares at him like she scraped him off her show. “That would ruin the surprise.”

“We could ask Shirayuki, though.”

“Please.” She rolls her eyes. “Like she could keep a secret from Obi.”

Suzu considers it. “Yeah, alright,” he agrees. “That’s fair.”

“How come Obi has the coolest clothes?” Suzu complains, rifling through the cedar chest at the end of his bed. “I mean, he has half the wardrobe I do, but he always looks all – er –”

“Handsome?” Yuzuri supplies. “It’s because he’s with all the lords, I bet. He’s fashionable. I’m still not sure if you can see all your colors.”

Suzu glares at her over one of Obi’s black shirts, the fabric filmy against his hands. “If I made as much dill as Obi, I could probably look pretty dashing.”

She snorts. “You couldn’t look dashing if you wore his clothes.”

It’s a failing of his; he can resist every challenge except the ones Yuzuri offers him. It’ll get him in trouble one day, but –

“Oh?” Obi’s fur jacket sits on a chair – he’s wearing his guard uniform now, on shift – and he pulls it up over his head, letting it settle over his torso. It’s not baggy on him, but – his shoulders aren’t as broad as Obi’s, his chest not quite as full. Though he’s built a little more solid than Obi by nature, Obi’s body is one of use, and Suzu’s is one of…sufferance.

Still, not bad.

“Not as goofy as I thought it would be,” Yuzuri allows, parking herself on the edge of Obi’s bed. “But you’re still not quite Obi’s league.”

“He can pick me up,” Suzu agrees with a forlorn nod. He brushes a hand over the fur. “This feels a little bare, I have to say.”

“You’re missing the cape.”

“Oh, right.” He digs through the chest, pulling out one of the thick capes, tossing it over one shoulder. “Oh, hey, I think I’ve figured out why he wears those straps all the time.”

Yuzuri grins, making a sweeping gesture with her arm. “Please, share with the class, Master Suzu.”

He fidgets with the edge, trying to get it to sit just so, how Obi always does. “It’s impossible to keep this on right otherwise.”

She cackles, rolling back on the bed. “You know, I think he only wears those because Shirayuki told him it looks dashing once.”

“Oh, yeah.” Suzu pulls out a scarf, dropping it around his neck. “That’s definitely the reason.”

He pulls up the scarf over his mouth and strikes as mysterious a poise as he can, arms crossed and slanting a look from the corner of his eyes. “I have aliases and many secrets.”

“Wait, wait!” Yuzuri leans across the bed,reaching an arm into the chest, and yanks out another cape. She drapes it over her head just like Shirayuki does in the market.

“Oh Obi!” she shrills, an entire octave up from her normal voice. “Could you please come stand unreasonably close to me for a simple task?”

“Oh, why, Miss.” Suzu drops his voice into a growl, approaching the bed until he brushes Yuzuri’s knees. He does not think about how his stomach jumps at being this close. “I would consider it my duty to stand a friendly distance away from you while we talk.”

“Oh, Obi,” Her hands come up to lay on his chest. His heart pounds so hard against his ribs she must feel it; if she does, she gives no sign. “If you don’t breathe right on my face and stare at me like I’m a cream-stuffed pastry, I’ll have to assume I’ve upset you.”

“Of course, Miss.” He lays his hands over hers. Any time now, she’ll push him away, he knows she will. She just must be…caught up in the joke. “It is completely friendly, the way you must put your hands on me while we stand here talking about what to have for dinner. But realize, I’ll have to be angry at myself later for thinking about kissing you, because nothing about this situation says kiss me.”

She bats her eyelashes coyly, fingers curling in his coat as she leans back. He’s not sure what she’s doing, doing this with him but – well, it’s not like he’s going to complain she wants him this close. “Oh, of course not. I am far too sweet to think about you – ugh, it’s hard to get realism without the straps, Suzu –”

He snorts, following her over until his hands rest above her head on the mattress. “I’ll try to ask him to leave them behind the next time, I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Please,” she giggles, her breath ghosting over his lips. He suppresses a shiver, poorly “Anyway, Obi, I think you really need to explain what you’re doing tomorrow right in my ear, otherwise I might not hear it.”

“Right, Miss.” He nods, so serious. “I’ll have to do it do my lips brush your ear, otherwise –”

Yuzuri’s gaze slides right over his shoulder, eyes going wide as they fix on something just behind him. “Suzu –”

“Miss, please,” he giggles, leaning closer to her. He’ll never have as good a chance as this again. “Everyone knows secrets have to be passed mouth-to-mouth –”

A hand lands on his shoulder, heavy. Strange, both of Yuzuri’s are accounted for –

“Nice cape,” Obi says.

#anonymous #suzuri #obiyuki #my fic #100 days of obiyuki (and more) #ans #not sure this is what you wanted anon #but lbr #suzu would absolutely mimic obi #and yuzuri is probably just waiting for the day where she can whip out her shirayuki impression