#on the bright side - dogs doing the leg thing is always absolutely hilarious

[eri-cheri]

Now that we have reached the last chapter of the year. It is time to do a 2020 roll call of what I like to call, “State of the Shippers”:

1. IzuOcha. Status: Placated.

-IzuOcha’s could celebrate several cute tidbits throughout the year. Mini moments as they say.

Anime Highlights: The OVA’s came in clutch with moments for shippers all around and IzuOcha is no exception. We got a cute tidbit where Izuku and Ochako bumped into each other and were flustered.

Manga Highlights: Christmas kept on giving to this fandom as the AM doll Izuku gave Ochako made many appearances. A cute fist bump between the two was also exchanged and Mina was right there bouncing with y’all.

Heroes Rising: Izuku super man carried Ochako to safety. And was Angy she was injured. Fans could enjoy the small Lois Lane moment.

Troubling Signs?: Ochako said “I would like to be excluded from this narrative” when it comes to her feelings for Deku. She’s a hero damnit! So if they are in for something, probably won’t be while they are still in school.

II. DabiHawks. Status: Yikes.

- Dabi and Hawk’s very public breakup set this fandom in disarray but also kind of disayay?

Anime Highlights: None yet. This fandom was cruelly cock blocked by Bones. Sorry DabiHawks stans.

Manga Highlights: Where to begin, my goodness. With these fans, I guess the good and the bad is a plus in this homoerotic double agent relationship. We have the notion that Dabi may have known Hawks when they were kids, which may be a positive? Hori sure loves his childhood friends. Other than that. The GIRLS WERE FIGHTIN’. Hawks is now permanently scarred by Dabi and I don’t think it was kinky folks. Tokoyami inserted himself in the middle to White Knight Hawks, Dabi broke up with him via YT expose and overall, shippers could anguish in the absolute MESS that this ship endured this year. But I’m sure that’s part of the appeal. So...yay?

Heroes Rising: They were both in it.

Troubling Signs?: The entire relationship is a troubling sign which again, is part of the appeal. Maybe Hawks will cuddle up with Dabi’s father after the war. That’s troubling! Speaking of...

III. EndHawks. Status: Yearning and Burning.

-If there’s one thing Endeavor couldn’t stop worrying about, it was his hot (in more ways than one) new side piece who probably should have looked at the fine print when signing a contract to be a recurring guest star on “Keeping up with the Todoroki’s”.

Anime Highlights: A fateful meeting finally in high definition for all our eyes to see! Hawks’s unwavering support of his biggest hero was endearing to watch and their shenanigans together spurred the anime onlies to finally jump on the biggest May-December ship in the series.

Manga Highlights: Endeavor’s admiration and concern for Hawks seeped through the pages as we entered our most exciting arc in the manga yet. Fate split these two up yet entwined their downfall together. And that Fate’s name was Dabi...or should I say ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️ or should I just say Touya!

Heroes Rising: “Don’t bite my head off, Endeavor.” Geez, can you flirt a little less loud Hawks?

Troubling Signs?: They say never meet your heroes and Hawks is in for a rude awakening. We shall see just how deep his admiration runs or if Endeavor’s past will split our dynamic duo up for good.

IV: TodoDeku. Status: “Precious”

-Shoto’s “Midoriya is in Danger” radar was highlighted in both manga and anime. 4th User’s quirk, who?

Anime Highlights: “Midoriya hasn’t returned yet.” “Where’s Midoriya?” “Midoriya! Grab my hand!” “Have some of my Soba Midoriya.” Shoto gets it. His emotional support friend is a danger magnet. TodoDeku’s also enjoyed tiny tidbits in the OVA such as a hand grabbing scene. Gotta hold tight to those crumbs.

Manga Highlights: Two Words. “Precious Friend.” Deku comes in w/o arms or legs fighting for Shoto and Shoto’s honor. These two spent the entire year worried sick about each other, and going against all odds to save each other. Precious Friends indeed. TDDK fans ate.

Heroes Rising: Shoto kicks some dog ass and then faints thinking of Deku (and Bakugo but shh. Let the shippers rejoice.) On the bright side, we have a 3rd movie coming featuring “The Three Musketeers” so shippers of TdDk can HOLD TIGHT to what’s to come.

Troubling Signs?: Shoto still doesn’t know about OFA and he’s gonna have LOTS of questions after this arc. Will Deku finally tell him? If not, it could make or break the ship.

V. TodoBaku. Status: “Shining through the city with a little funk and soul.”

-Who knew the greatest comedy duo we needed was Shoto and his hot headed “friend” or not friend? It still remains unclear to Shoto. Regardless, these two had a fun year.

Anime Highlights: “I wanna see your cute face”, disco dancing, and more fun in the provisional license training. Plus the OVA added some cute moments between the two such as Bakugo staying behind to save Todoroki during a dangerous excercise and his adorable plan neatly animated for us. I’d say TodoBaku’s really were resurgent and energized this year!

Manga Highlights: Shoto, that is not how you properly Catch a Kacchan, I’m sorry. But at least you did it you mad lad. As with Deku, Shoto spent the year worried sick about Bakugo. While the anime let us have our fun, these two were suffering in the manga.

Heroes Rising: Again, Shoto put a dog down and then fainted with Bakugo on his mind (and Deku but we ignore that. Shush.) TodoBaku’s have the 3rd movie to look forward to which is bound to have some amazing content!

Troubling Signs?: They have a lot of trauma to deal with. And a lot of Deku to worry about. I also imagine Shoto will be hurt about being left out of the OFA secret. We shall see what 2021 has to offer.

VI. KiriMina. Status: Unbreakable.

-Changing your hairstyle to match the gal who inspired you in middle school? Sorry y’all but if Mina were a guy, I’d say that’s gay af.

Anime Highlights: We got that backstory Bois. Red Riot’s origin might as well make him be called Pink Riot. Again with Hori and the childhood friends though I wouldn’t exactly call them friends. They just went to the same middle school but Kirishima was highly influenced by Mina’s Chivalrous spirit! A ship is born!

Manga Highlights: The influence is mutual! Mina creates a move based on Kirishima’s unbreakable and we all let out a collective “awwww”. Also in the war arc, we got Kirishima making sure Mina’s chivalrous spirit shines through right into Gigantomachia’s mouth! KiriMina may just be the unsung MVP’s of this arc.

Heroes Rising: They were in it.

Troubling Signs?: I can’t think of a single one. KiriMina’s can enjoy a peaceful sailing.

VII: KiriBaku. Status: Crumb Collectors.

-2020 was an uneventful year for KiriBaku but Bones made sure there were crumbs aplenty! Thank God for OVA’s!

Anime Highlights: KiriBaku’s did thrive in one episode! Kirishima reflects on the sludge incident and evolves his quirk based on inspiring words from Bakugo! Hooray! KiriBaku’s can thrive in their blossoming friendship. The OVA also has Kirishima (and Kaminari but shh) once again following Bakugo’s lead when it comes to the training excercise. How can you not? He’s so manly!

Manga Highlights: Not gonna lie. There is nothing much here this year. I did find a teeny tiny flake in Aizawa’s flashback. Kirishima and Bakugo are sitting next to each other. Oh! And at the hot pot gathering, Bakugo sits next to Kirishima! Eat your crumbs KiriBaku’s! There’s always next year!

Heroes Rising: Kirishima hangs with a lazy Bakugo and delivers the most hilarious line in the whole movie. “Silly Bakugo, there won’t be villains here!” Hahah... Silly Bakugo. Oh you~ KiriBaku’s can inhale the fact that those two sure love to hover around each other!

Troubling Signs?: With great crumbs come little responsiblity. No trouble if there’s no content! 🤔

VIII: KamiJirou. Status: Singing their hearts out 🎶

-If there’s any ship that’s coming close to canonization, I think this is it, folks! “Think of the person most important to you!” Can’t argue with Midnight!

Anime Highlights: Kaminari does non stop encouraging of Jirou and her hobbies! He works super hard to learn guitar for her sake! We love a king who can encourage his queen!

Manga Highlights: Kaminari thinks of the most important person to him and surprise! It’s Jirou! All of the feels can commence.

Heroes Rising: They were in it!

Troubling Signs?: Kaminari does love his women. And men. Kaminari overall is a huge flirt. But Jirou appears to have his heart strings. ❤️

IX: BakuDeku. Status: Rising. 👑

-Alternative Statuses include Winning, Thriving, Soaring. It’s just been non stop content this year. 2020 is truly the year for BakuDeku. The shippers can rejoice.

Anime Highlights: Three words. Be. My. Cane. The OVA’s helped fan the flames of the BkDk hearts with a surprise! Deku tops! Not only that, we got a lovely shoulder tap of encouragement in the canon material. While in season 4, Deku’s primary focus was Eri. Bakugo and Deku still had their moments to be hella gay.

Manga Highlights: Where do I even begin? I guess we’ll just cut to the chase with Bakugo Katsuki: Rising. We finally saw Bakugo’s true feelings manifest for Deku and if getting stabbed for him isn’t the ultimate showing of love, then idk what is. BakuDeku’s rounded out the year with the Volume 29 cover AND the volume 29 cover drafts to eat at our heart strings. Overall, their relationship got the spotlight in the manga this year. And we’re bound to start 2021 with a dramatic confrontation. Hand holding seems to be the key with these two and it didn’t stop with Heroes Rising...speaking of.

Heroes Rising: The entire movie. Like....yeah. That’s it. [OP, your bias is showing. You have to be SPECIFIC.] {But random criticizer in my head, if I lay out the entire plot of the movie, my post will be too long} [OP....] UGHHHH Okay okay. The POPSICLE MELTING. THE HAND HOLDING. THE CHARACTER DESIGNS OF WHAT MIGHT AS WELL BE THEIR LOVE CHILDREN. Did I mention? “It’s fine if it’s you?” CAUSE YEAH. Oh and All Might randomly officiating their wedding in their heads like idk. Isn’t it just simpler if I say the whole movie??!

Troubling Signs?: Well these two’s relationship is extremely delicate and while it has non stop soared this year, Deku might not take too kindly to Bakugo almost dying for him. Will they stop pushing each other away? Time will tell.

That’s all for this year folks! Happy Shipping and good luck to everyone next year!

#my hero academia #bnha spoilers #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #bakudeku #izuocha #tododeku #todobaku #DabiHawks #endhawks #KiriBaku #kamijirou #kirimina

[spookyboywhump]

Overheating

Alright so I really wanted to write smth with This so thank you @unicornscotty <3

I know it’s the fourth but I really wanted to participate in the @summer-of-whump event but I didn’t have the time until today so technically this is also for the day one prompt “overheating” (fun fact: originally I had a piece with Wren planned for this)

CW: pet whump, dehumanization, locked outside, emeto mention, drowning mention, heat exhaustion

***

He woke up when he was suddenly grabbed by the collar and dragged off his bed, roughly pushed to the floor. He was disoriented, squinting up at Cain from where he laid. His owner looked irritated, apparently still upset over the fight Zander lost the night before. He should’ve been expecting this, seeing as Cain hadn’t punished him immediately after getting home.

“Fucking hell… good morning to you too.” He muttered sarcastically, while Cain jabbed him in the side with the tip of his shoe, Zander wincing as he dug into one of the bruises.

“Get up.” He ordered, and Zander sighed, pushing himself up and getting to his feet. He was too exhausted, too sore to fight with him. He figured he may as well just accept his punishment and get it over with. “Hands behind your back.”

“Sure thing, officer.” He snickered, doing as he was told though, only for Cain to quickly cuff his wrists together. Zander followed him from the room, mentally preparing himself for a beating, a whipping, caning, drowning, anything like that, but instead, Cain led him out back.

Now that he was outside he realized it was early in the morning, around the time Cain usually left for work. He sighed heavily, realizing that it was going to be another day locked outside, but instead of dragging him out into the yard, he was made to kneel on part of the patio- specifically, the part that wasn’t covered. Cain had clearly already prepared this punishment, a chain locked around one of the nearest posts, which was grabbed and clipped to his collar. It was just long enough that he could lean forward, but he couldn’t have moved from that spot, even trying to move into the shade was impossible for him.

“You’ll spend today out here. If I’m in a better mood, I might let you in when I get home.” He said, and Zander jerked away when he tried to ruffle his hair. Cain started to head inside after that, pausing to add, “Oh, and by the way mutt- I’m working late today.” He said, Zander glaring when he flashed a smile at him before heading inside, the doors slamming shut and locking behind him.

Zander tried to tell himself this wasn’t that bad. He’d been left outside before, sometimes for days at a time, he could handle it. He wasn’t happy, but he could handle it, in fact, he considered it better than a beating. He was bored, of course, but by now he was used to boredom. He didn’t think it would be a problem at all, but as time passed and the day went on, he quickly realized that wasn’t the case.

It was the middle of summer, and while it wasn’t so bad early in the morning, the temperature continued to climb higher and higher. He was used to being tied in the yard, on the cool grass, with a chain long enough he could move into the shade of the trees. He was trapped here though, the sun beating down on him as he knelt on hot concrete. He regretted falling asleep wearing shorts, even if it would’ve been hotter at least pants would’ve provided some protection from the burning heat that had him constantly shifting uncomfortably.

He didn’t normally hate the heat very much. He was used to it, he used to enjoy being out on a sweltering day, but back then he’d usually end up at a friend’s pool or down at the lake, anything to cool off. He would’ve killed for even a drop of cold water, done anything to be submerged in it. His hair and his clothes stuck to his skin, sweat beading on his forehead, the back of his neck, he couldn’t even really wipe it away thanks to his hands being restrained. He winced as sweat stung open scratches from the night before, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a slow, deep breath.

He could handle discomfort. He was always uncomfortable. Hours went by and discomfort had given way to sickness though, somehow nauseous despite the fact he hadn’t even gotten to eat that day. He was doubled over as much as he could, trying to ignore the stomach pain and the sick feeling, but it was difficult when there was nothing else he could focus on.

“Fucking Cain.” He muttered to himself, attempting to talk himself through this. “Fuck him, fucking idiot. Can’t fucking believe this…” He winced, his stomach in knots at this point. “It’s fine… it’s just the sun… fuck, if I get a sunburn I’m gonna be pissed… I hope his stupid ass gets a sunburn, pale fucking vampire looking-“ He was forcibly cut off, dry heaving as the nausea got worse and worse.

By late in the afternoon he felt weak, even more exhausted than he had been that morning. His legs hurt, there was no position that was comfortable as the concrete burned his feet and legs. He hated to admit how much he cried, when he finally couldn’t take it any longer, but he couldn’t even cry for long, as though he were too dehydrated to manage even that. He kept his eyes shut as much as he could, his head was pounding and the bright sunlight wasn’t helping at all.

By the time the back doors opened again, Zander was blinking in and out of consciousness. It was sometime in the evening by then, but it was still warm out, too warm for Zander after enduring the whole day like that. He didn’t actually recognize that Cain was back until he was standing directly in front of him- something held in his hands too.

“Hey, you look like shit.” He snickered, and Zander couldn’t do much more than attempt to glare at him. He didn’t even want to know how he looked right now, likely drenched in sweat, red in his already bruised face. He was taking slow, deep breaths, he’d been fighting against the urge to vomit all day. He set down something in front of him, a bright red dog bowl, which was filled with water. “Go ahead boy, I’m sure you’re thirsty.” He told him, and it took Zander a moment to realize what he was saying.

Am I really this fucking desperate?

His mouth was so dry it was difficult for him to swallow. His throat hurt, he was hardly even capable of keeping himself awake right now, so exhausted and dizzy he couldn’t even really think straight. He hadn’t had anything to drink that day, and no matter the circumstances, this was water being offered right in front of him.

Fucking whatever, dignity be damned.

He abruptly lurched forward, desperate for it after all this time, only to gag as the chain stopped him, only inches from the water but just out of reach. He whined pathetically, he pulled against the chain despite the fact he couldn’t breath and it was showing no signs in breaking, but there was nothing he could do except sit there, and listen to Cain laugh- something that very, very quickly set him off.

“Fucking Bastard- really?!” He shouted. “Fuck you! Fucking let me go!” He growled, using all his energy just to yell at cain. “Stop fucking laughing, it’s not fucking funny!”

“No, it’s hilarious!” Cain laughed. “You’re such a desperate son of a bitch, huh? Would you really drink from a bowl like the dog you fucking are?”

“I would if you weren’t such an asshole! I don’t give a shit, just give me something!” He cried, just short of begging him. Cain was still laughing, but he nudged the bowl closer to him and Zander really did disregard any desire he’d had to avoid this, doing his best to drink from the bowl without his hands. The humiliation was absolutely nothing compared to the relief he felt, he’d never tasted anything better than that water tasted now. He drank as much as he could, as fast as he could to avoid having it taken away, but eventually Cain did take the bowl from him, then he unclipped the chain from his collar.

He tried to get up but he only just now realized how weak he was, collapsing almost immediately. Cain had to actually help him back into the house, his legs were trembling violently and he swore the room was moving side to side. Cain made a face since he was close enough to smell him after a day of sweating under the summer sun, if anything Zander counted that as some sort of victory on his end. He didn’t seem to realize anything was actually wrong with him though, he was dragged to his room and shoved to the floor, where he laid as he was locked into that cell again.

It took a long time for him to move. He couldn’t walk, he had to drag himself into the bathroom and turn on the shower to cold water, his hands shaking as he peeled his clothes off, sitting on the shower floor and breathing a sigh of relief as the cold water poured over him. He took deep, shuddering breaths, and he winced as the water hit the fresh burns on his legs, worse than he thought they would be. He wasn’t even sure if he had anything in his supplies meant for burns, but he figured he could work with what he had, he’d always done so before.

He didn’t expect to pass out in the shower. One moment he was tiredly looking at the back of his hand, at his bruised knuckles, and the next he was waking up slumped against the wall, cold and shivering now that he’d been in there long enough. He didn’t know how long that had actually been, but he finally was able to turn the water off and struggle to his feet, able to keep himself upright long enough to dry off and get dressed. He wanted to go pass out in his bed but just the thought of the mattress and the blanket made him feel hot, he wasn’t entirely thinking straight when he laid down on the bathroom floor, but he found he didn’t regret it one bit, finding relief in the cool tiles against his skin.

He wasn’t thinking entirely clearly, his thoughts still clouded with confusion, but he knew one thing for certain- With how angry he had been over his little “joke”, Cain was lucky Zander had been restrained.

#whump #my writing #my oc’s #zander #Cain #pet whump #dehumanization #heat exhaustion #summerofwhump #summerofwhump1

[youare-mysonshine]

funhouse || oscar diaz

Summary: reader convinces Oscar to go ghost hunting with her in an abandoned house and it’s both hilarious and terrifying.

Requested: yes! @varzling

Pairing: Oscar Diaz x reader, Jamal Turner x reader (platonic)

Warnings: cussing as per usual

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: I loved this so much lmao I was born one week before halloween and I was obsessed with scary movies and spooky shit before I could even properly talk. I had the Chucky doll and my uncle called me Chucky because I was obsessed with that movie. This was one of my favorites to write because paranormal and horror stuff is my fav! This is me, I am reader lmao this was fun to write! I also did this in second person pov rather than third person which is what i normally do. let me know if you prefer this or if you prefer third person.

________________

“No.”

“Baby, come on! Please?”

It had all started when Jamal had mentioned in passing that there was an abandoned house only a few blocks away from where you lived. An abandoned house that people assumed was haunted. He had mentioned that he wanted to go ghost hunting with some equipment that he had bought but had been wary of it because he didn’t want to go alone.

You loved that stuff. Paranormal shit was your absolute favorite, so naturally, you agreed to go with Jamal. You were absolutely buzzing with excitement, and you had put it in your mind to convince Oscar to go with you two - but you knew that it wouldn’t be an easy feat.

You knew Oscar better than anyone and you knew just how jumpy and how fearful he was of paranormal stuff, which you found rather amusing given just how much of an intimidating man he was. Shit, people called him Spooky. You always took the time to tease him about it - you’d sneak up behind him wrapped in a white sheet (like a ghost) just to scare him, which he certainly didn’t appreciate it, but you found absolutely hilarious.

So getting him to agree to go with you and Jamal to ghost hunt was certainly a mission.

“Nah. I ain’t going.” He said, taking a drag from the cigarette he was smoking. You stood in front of him, holding his free hand and giving him those puppy dog eyes that he couldn’t resist. That would be why he wouldn’t meet your eyes, why he was looking everywhere but you, because he knew damn well he’d give in if he looked at you. You had him wrapped around your little finger.

“Oscar, please!” You dragged the word out, jutting your bottom lip out. “It’ll be fun!” That was when he finally looked at you, raising one of his perfectly arched eyebrows, a look that said ‘fun? Yeah right.’ “No, I’m serious. It’ll be fun. It’s like.. a cool, adventurous date night. When’s the last time we went out on an actual date together?”

“Jamal is going. I don’t think it’d be a date night if that travieso is going.”

“Okay, date night plus one. Baby, please come on. I want you to go. You don’t have to be scared. I’m sure it’s not haunted. Jamal said it was just rumors, and rumors are almost always just that - rumors. People see an abandoned creepy house and automatically assume that it’s haunted when it’s probably not.” You said, interlocking your fingers with his own. His fingers immediately tightened around your own, giving your hand a small squeeze. He took in another drag, those dark eyes you loved so much staring right into your own. The setting sun was hitting him just right, giving his eyes a honey colored look. Under the glow of the setting sun, he almost looked ethereal. Perfect.

“I ain’t scared.” He spoke, voice deep and gruff. You scoffed, giving him a tiny smirk.

“Really? Then prove it. Come with us tonight. You can protect me if I get scared. My big, scary Santo. My Spooky.” You walked forward, closing the already small space between the two of you, settling between his legs. Given he was sitting and you were standing, he was left looking up at you, you looking down at him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers drawing random little shapes on his tan skin. You leaned your head down, your y/h/c/ hair falling from behind your shoulders. The tattooed man reached one hand up and tucked some of your hair behind your ear, but instead of removing his hand, he kept it there and instead used it to pull your head down further and further until there was nothing but a few mere centimeters between your lips.

You could feel his lips ghosting over your own, you could practically taste the cigarette he was smoking, the Red Bull he was drinking. It was entirely Oscar and you loved it. Closing your eyes, you finally closed the gap and connected your lips to his. Each kiss with Oscar felt as if it were the first one you shared. It never failed to take your breath away. As cliche as it was, it gave you butterflies. It sent tingles throughout your entire body. And you hoped that feeling would never fade away.

The hand that was cradling your cheek/head slid down your body until it came upon your ass, where Oscar grabbed a handful of supple skin and gave it a squeeze. You let out a small giggle against his lips and pulled away, eyes opening, lips slightly wet with saliva. You gave him the look, that small little smile on your eyes, eyes shining bright. Your man let out a deep sigh. He looked up at the sky, as if he were pondering and asking god why the hell he could never say no to you.

“Alright. Fine. I’ll go. But we ain’t staying long.” You gave him a grin, leaning down to kiss his lips once more.

“Yes! It’s gonna be fun, papas!”

And nighttime came sooner than Oscar would’ve liked. He didn’t outwardly admit it, but he was low-key nervous about going to this supposed haunted house. He was entirely and completely afraid, but he fully believed that there were ghosts, spirits, demons, things of that sort and he never wanted to dabble into that kind of shit for fear of being haunted or possessed. He was more afraid of the enemy that he couldn’t see than the enemy he could.

You and Oscar had climbed into his cherry red impala and went on your way to pick Jamal up at his house and no less than a second after you had arrived, the boy had come bounding out dressed in all black, carrying a backpack.

“I’m gonna regret this.” Oscar said as he caught sight of Jamal’s grinning face. You opened up the passenger side door and scooted over so that you were in the middle and Jamal could sit down. The young teen climbed into the car, shut the door and set his backpack down on the car floor.

“Spooky. Lady Spooky.” He greeted you both. You laughed softly at the name, meanwhile Oscar just stared straight ahead, putting the car into drive and pulling away from Jamal’s house.

“Hey Jamal.” You greeted, giving him a friendly smile. Despite the age difference, you genuinely loved and cared for all of Cesar’s friends. After all the shit that they had been through, you just wanted to try and alleviate some of the pressure and stress, you wanted them to feel like they weren’t alone. Maybe that’s also why you were so keen on accompanying Jamal on his ghost hunting journey.

After Oscar had asked for the directions of this supposed haunted house, with Jamal reiterating that lots of people had said it was haunted so it had to be true, he gave the direction and you three were on your way. You were actually buzzing with a nervous excitement. You had never done anything of the sort before, even if you’d always wanted to. But you were definitely nervous of what you’d find.

“What’s in the backpack?” You asked, nodding down at the black backpack that looked full to the brim with things. The over excited teenager gave a triumphant grin as he leaned down ever so slightly and scooped it up. He dropped it down onto your lap, the opening facing his direction, and you let out a little ‘oof’.

“I thought you’d never ask. Okay so, after finding out about this abandoned/ haunted house, I decided to create a ghost hunting pack. I ordered some stuff online. Let’s see..” He unzipped the backpack and began pulling things out one by one.

“I got this spirit box. This shit was not cheap either so it better work.” He pulled out this relatively large contraption that you probably didn’t know how to use.

“What’s that for?” Oscar piped in, taking his eyes off the road for a few seconds to glance over at what Jamal was holding.

“This is basically for whatever entity or spirit is present to communicate with us. We just turn this on, ask questions and wait for someone to talk back to us.” He set the spirit box down on his lap and then rummaged around the backpack again.

“A flashlight. I seriously doubt that janky place has functioning electricity. We’ll definitely need this. Also got us some walkie talkies incase we need to split up and cover some more ground.” You were genuinely amazed at how much stuff this kid could fit into a single backpack. And how seriously he seemed to be taking this entire thing.

“I also got this Digital thermometer to tell when the temperature has dropped. Apparently when there is an entity present, shit gets cold real fast. Let’s see… Oh! I also have holy water! And I brought the Bible. And a ouija board.”

“You fucking what?” You asked, lifting the backpack open to reveal that there was indeed a ouija board, a bible and holy water sitting inside.

“Oh hell nah. You ain’t using the ouija board up in there. You about to make us get a ghost.” Oscar said.

“And, don’t you think that if we used the ouija board while having these religious artifacts, we could potentially let something.. I don’t know, demonic in and make it angry?” You added.

“Okay first off, get a ghost? What the hell? How do you get a ghost? Do you purchase it? Is there a ghost store that I don’t know about?” He shot his words at Oscar, face twisted up in confusion. Oscar’s face had annoyance written all over it. You rested your hand on his hand and gave it a small squeeze. “Second of all, that is why I brought the holy water and the Bible, woman! You two are amateurs, seriously. If we were to potentially let something demonic in, we’d fend it off with holy water while reciting words from the Bible. Besides, Oscar has the cross necklace and the cross tattoo. No ghost or demon is fucking with him. Although, I did hear that demons usually tend to possess people who are angry, upset, vulnerable. Not that Oscar is vulnerable, but he looks like he’s about to pop a vein half the time. He’s ground zero for a demonic possession.”

The car went dead silent. You bit your lip to keep from laughing or snickering. Jamal went silent because he thought Oscar would boot him out of the moving car. And Oscar went silent because he was now genuinely pondering if he’d get possessed. He saw The Conjuring, he saw what that shit did.

“Jamal.. maybe you shouldn’t say that to someone when we’re about to go and investigate a potentially haunted house.” You said, glancing over at him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. The young teen, eyes wide, mouth in a nervous smile, nodded his head rapidly.

“Yeah, yeah. I mean just forget what I said, seriously. It’s probably factually incorrect. Besides, they’re just rumors, about the house being haunted and all. Although, the rumors and speculation have come from many people so I don’t think all those people would be making that shit up-“

“Jamal! Zip it!” You quickly said, not wanting Oscar to back out and end the ghost hunting trip before it even began.

“Yeah okay, shutting up.”

The drive to the house lasted about four to six minutes more. Soon, the impala came to a stop in front a decrepit, creepy two story house that had grass and weeds growing wild all over the place. The fence that was probably once white was now rusted. The house itself had paint that had chipped away overtime. Graffiti decorated the walls. Some gang tagging, some random names, random drawings, stuff of the sort. It was just as creepy as everyone had said. You couldn’t imagine what the inside was like.

“Okay, let’s do this, team.” Jamal opened the passenger side door, his backpack repacked with all of his supplies situated on his back. You turned and looked over at Oscar to find him with an apprehensive look on his face. You gave him a small smile.

“You’re seriously not afraid, are you? Everything will be fine. Come on.” You leaned in and pecked his lips before climbing out of the car. You shut the door behind you, the driver’s side door following suit. Oscar came up next to you and you immediately took his hand into your own and laced your fingers together. With Jamal leading the way, the two of you followed behind him past the rusted gates, up the dirt and overgrown grass covered path that led up the rickety front steps.

“Okay, how are we doing this? Are we splitting up? Sticking together?” You asked.

“We ain’t splittin’ up. We’re stickin’ together.” Oscar interjected before Jamal could say anything. Jamal suddenly whipped around, coming to a stop in front of you and Oscar. He shone the bright light into your faces and you and your boyfriend recoiled from the bright light. You held your hand up, pushing the flashlight away. The teen then held the flashlight underneath his chin, illuminating his face.

“I think we should split up. That way we could cover more ground.” He said, still illuminating his face. Oscar on the other hand, was not relenting, and you knew that even though he had said yes to you, it didn’t mean he’d agree to split up.

“This is non negotiable. We ain’t splittin’ up. You didn’t even bring enough flashlights for us, genius.” The older male pointed. Jamal switched the flashlight off and nodded his head.

“Okay good point. Fine, we’ll stick together.” He quickly pulled his backpack off and rummaged around, pulling out three items. “You, hold that.” He thrust the Bible into your hands. “And you, take this.” He handed Oscar the holy water. “Just in case. We need to be fully prepared and take precaution in case there already is some sort of demonic infestation.” He spoke, all the while pulling out the Digital thermometer and switching it on. Once he had it in hand, he situated the backpack on his back again, picked his flashlight up and switched it on.

“Let the ghost hunting commence.” Finally descending up the porch steps, Jamal came to a stop in front of the front door and you could see that the boy was actually starting to get nervous now. With his flashlight nestled between his arm and his side, he slowly twisted the doorknob with his hand and for a few seconds, you thought that it might’ve been locked, but the door opened. A few creaks were heard and it had the hairs on the back of your neck standing.

Jamal stepped into the house first. “Hello ghostly spirits that inhabit this home. We mean you no harm. We come in peace!” He belted out, announcing your presence.

“Oh fuck this. I ain’t goin’ in.” Oscar suddenly said, letting go of your hand, refusing to set foot inside the house. You and Jamal whirled around to face your skittish boyfriend.

“Are you serious? Are you really scared right now? Your name is Spooky! You run a gang but you’re scared of ghosts? Invisible beings?” Jamal asked, incredulously. Oscar clenched his jaw, eyebrows furrowing.

“Hey, this shit is scary! My tio from my mom’s side of the family got a ghost when he was two years old and he was never the same again. After that, he only walked backwards!”

“He was two! Maybe he just liked walking backwards!”

You shook your head at the bickering, a breathless chuckle leaving your lips - Oscar had told you countless time about his uncle that only walked backwards after he had been supposedly possessed, but each time you still found it amusing. Deciding not to waste time listening to the bickering of your boyfriend and actual teenager, you pushed past Jamal and into the house, taking the flashlight from him in the process.


“What the- What the hell? I am the appointed leader of this ghost hunting trio, I hold the flashlight and the thermometer.” Jamal finally snapped back to reality at your actions and he snatched the item back from you.

“Well, leader, if you and Oscar would stop fighting, maybe we could actually get some shit done. If something is here, I’m sure you two just woke it up with your loud ass voices.” You commented, shooting Oscar a look. “Baby, you promised.” You held your hand out, the hand not holding the Bible, out to him and he reluctantly took it, stepping into the house that would fuel his nightmares for days to come no doubt.

“See? That wasn’t so bad was it, Spooky? You walked into the house and did anything jump out at you or possess you? No!” Jamal sassed, pointing the flashlight at your seething but definitely frightened boyfriend. With teeth clenched, he looked at Jamal.

“If I get possessed, the first one I’m coming after is you.” He said. Jamal gaped, mouth open like a fish.

“Okay, okay! Stop, children. Let’s do this. Come on.” You snapped you fingers, lightly smacking Jamal with the Bible in your grip.

“Okay, yes. Let’s not get distracted from the mission.” Jamal whipped around, flashlight scanning around the empty but dusty, dirty room which appeared to be a living room. The entire house gave you eerie vibes. Despite the bickering going on mere moments ago, the hair on the back of your neck stood up, you could feel goosebumps rising on your skin.

“The temperature is the same. Oh wait, it dropped. Oh my god it dropped like one degree. Okay, something is definitely with us. We need to whip out the spirit box”

“Jamal, I don’t think that really tells us that anything is here.” You said, looping your arm through Oscar’s, finding comfort in the warmth he provided.

“You’re right. Let’s keep looking. Let’s go in here.” All three of you walked into what you assumed to be the living room, scanning around. The moonlight was creeping in from the busted windows, not leaving you entirely submerged in the dark which you appreciated.

“I’m gonna whip out the spirit box and see if we can make some contact.” Jamal kneeled down, rummaging through the backpack until he pulled out the spirit box. He set the thermometer down in the meantime, firing up the spirit box instead. It emitted this loud noise, almost like white noise you hear on a television when nothing is playing. Except it was loud and it definitely gave you the chills and the creeps.

“Hello spirits that may be present. I’m Jamal. That’s Oscar and Y/N.” He introduced.

“Why in the fuck are you using our names? What if they find us or some shit? I aint trynna have a ghost that knows my name.”

“Ignore the angry man. He’s terrified right now.” Jamal said, shooting a pointed look at Oscar. You gave his arm a squeeze glancing up at him.

“Relax baby. Everything is gonna be okay. Even if there is something here, I highly doubt that it’s bad.” You said, resting your head on his shoulder. He said nothing, just leaned down and kissed your temple.

“Is there anything or anyone here right now?” He asked. All three of you remained quiet, waiting with baited breath, waiting to hear if something actually responded back. But nothing came. And you didn’t know if you were relieved or disappointed.

“Is there anyone in the room with us?” Again nothing. “Is there anyone in this house besides us?”

“Up.” The three of you stood taller, eyes wide and alert, hearts hammering in your chest. At least your heart was beating erratically at that point, shocked that something actually responded.

“Uh.. can you.. can you say that again please..” Jamal’s voice quivered as he spoke, and mere seconds after he said it, the distorted, monotone voice was heard again.

“Up.”

“Up? Up.. What do you mean up?”

“Doll.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god. It said doll. What the freak..” Jamal exclaimed, eyes wide.

“It said up and it said doll. It probably wants us to go upstairs. Come on.” You let go of Oscar’s arm, despite his protests, and rushed over to where the stairs were, using the moonlight as a guide. You hid behind the wall and listened as rushed footsteps hurried closer to you, Jamal murmuring about how you all agreed to stick together.

“Bebe, don’t fuckin’ go off like that in a house like this-“ But neither of the guys finished what they were saying, ranting, about. As soon as they had both rounded the corner, you jumped out from your hiding position and screamed, scaring them both.

Jamal let out a shrill yell, jumping back, while Oscar let out a very loud and audible fuck while jumping back as well. Meanwhile, you were laughing, hands on your knees, lips pulled back into a wide grin.

“Got ya asses! Pendejos.” You exclaimed, still laughing. Jamal was calming down, and Oscar looked just that bit more freaked out, glaring at you.

“Christ on a cracker woman! What the shit was that? You just can’t be sneaking up on people like that! Shit!” He exclaimed.

“I’ma get you back, just watch.” Oscar spoke. But of course, you didn’t take his threat seriously, and it wasn’t like you were actually scared. You knew he’d never hurt you, and he had been scared by you enough times to be used to it. But it never failed to make you laugh.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I had to. I wish I had a damn camera to take a picture of that.” You said, calming down. “So, are we going upstairs or what?” You asked, looking at the guys, hands on your hips.

“We are going up the stairs. And you, missy, better watch yourself.” He pointed his index and middle fingers at you before pushing past you to walk up the dusty stairs. You stood by Oscar’s side, wrapping an arm around him.

“Don’t be mad at me, babe. I had to do it. It was priceless.” You said. “I’ll make it up to you later.” You said in a softer voice.

“You fuckin’ better, Chiquita.”

With Jamal up ahead of you, he opened up the first door he came upon, shining the flashlight in the dark and decrepit room.

“Uh, guys.. I think I found the doll..” He spoke, creeping a little further into the room. You and Oscar followed behind Jamal, eyes wide and searching the empty room. Strewn on the floor, illuminated by the flashlight was a raggedy ann doll. It was torn up and covered in dust and dirt. The fact that it was just laying there was creepy as hell.

“I’m not liking this shit. Not one bit.” Jamal murmured, still pointing the flashlight at the doll, almost as if he were waiting for it to jump up. You sighed, removing your arm from around Oscar to walk closer to the doll.

“Jamal, this thing isn’t Chucky. It’s not gonna come to life and jump out at you.” You knelt down and picked the dirty doll up. One of the eyes was missing and the face was just as dirty as the rest of it. A sense of dread filled you when you did that.

“Uh.. Y/N, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. The original Annabelle doll, the one the movie is based off of, was a raggedy ann doll just like that one.” Fear had crept into Jamal’s voice.

“Hey, shh. Be quiet.” Oscar suddenly spoke up. The three of you went silent and listened. Coming from down below sounded like footsteps, like someone was walking around the house. They weren’t loud, but they were still audible. Goosebumps creeped up over your skin and you immediately let go of the doll, gravitating towards Oscar’s side. Sure, it was all fun and games until you actually started hearing shit.

“Someone’s here.” Your boyfriend said, on high alert now.

“Someone.. or something..” Jamal said. “Okay let’s go one last session with the spirit box and then get the hell out of here.” He said, firing up the box once more.

“How about we get the hell out of here now. I been on these streets a long time and I ain’t gonna die in this sucia ass house.” Oscar said, hands balled up, antsy and anxious to leave.

“You are not gonna die, Jesus Christ. Would you take a chill pill?” Jamal said. “Spirit, ghost, demon - whatever you are. We came upstairs and we found the doll. Are you here with us?”

“Jamal.” It said.

“Oh shit.” The boy in question said.

“Y/N.. Oscar.. Out.”

“Out.. it said out.”

None of you had the chance to say anything else because coming from what seemed like the next room over was a loud crash that sent the three of you jumping and reeling backwards.

“Okay, I know I scared you guys earlier but that wasn’t me. Holy shit, that was not me. What the fuck was that?” You asked, your voice taking on a more frightened tone, you hands clutching at Oscar’s arm.

“Fuck this.” Oscar reached into the waistband of his pants and pulled out a black gun he had tucked in there, for safety.

“You brought a gun?!” You and Jamal both said at the same time, both looking at your boyfriend incredulously. Oscar clutched the gun in his hand, looking over at the door as if he were expecting someone to burst in.

“I sure as fuck wasn’t comin’ out here naked.” He said, voice deep and husky.

“Well shit, what in the hell are bullets gonna do against a ghost? Nothing! Nada! There’s no use in that! You should’ve brought a water gun! Filled with holy water! I even supplied the holy water and you’re holding it!”

“Then maybe you should’ve brought the god damn water gun if you’re so-“ Oscar was cut off by the spirit box, which was still turned on, letting out a distorted ‘Get.. out..’ Which was promptly followed by a loud bang that sounded much closer. You and Jamal let out screams, and Oscar put the gun away and reached out to grab you, urgency in his movements. Meanwhile you reached out to Jamal, grabbing his arm and pulling him along with you.

“Okay, we’re leaving. Now!” Neither you or Jamal protested. Instead the three of you hightailed it the fuck down those stairs as if your asses were on fire, the three of you too freaked out to even consider staying any longer. When you reached the bottom level of the house, there was no sign of anyone being down there. It wasn’t like there was many places a person could hide given the minimal amount of furniture.

Once at the bottom of the stairs, another loud crash which sounded a lot like a door slamming shut, came from above, prompting you all to run even faster towards the front door. Oscar pulled it open, the door slamming and bouncing against the wall from the sheer force of your boyfriend’s actions. The three of you ran down the porch steps, down the path and to his car.

You pulled the door open and practically flew inside the car while Jamal and Oscar quickly followed suit and climbed in. There wasn’t a second’s hesitation as Oscar turned the key in the ignition and started the vehicle, making quick work and pulling away from the curb and driving away from the house.

His hands were clenching the steering wheel so tight you could see his skin s starting to turn white. Meanwhile your heart was thundering so loud in your chest you could hear it in your ears and you wouldn’t be surprised if Oscar and Jamal could hear it too. The boy beside you was panting, breathing heavily, eyes wide.

“Holy shit balls.” He finally broke the silence that had fallen the three of you as Oscar went well past over the speed limit to try and get away from that house. “There are ghosts in that house. It is haunted. There is something there. And we witnessed it. Holy shit, team. We did it!” He exclaimed, looking at you and Oscar.

“Yeah we did. We probably got a fucking ghost.” Oscar said, briefly looking at Jamal.

“Well.. my money’s on Y/N. She’s the one that picked up the doll after all.” This time it was your turn to glare at Jamal.

“Jamal! Callate!” You said. Oscar, from beside you, let out a deep laugh.

“Come on baby. Don’t be scared.” You knew he teasing you, you could just hear it in his voice. And when you looked back at him, he wore that damn smirk on his face. You scowled at your boyfriend, arms crossing over your chest. “Don’t be scared. You wanted to come and ghost hunt.” He said, driving to Jamal’s house to drop him off. “Keep that same energy.”

“Just like you said to Jamal - if I get possessed, the first one I’m coming after is you, mi amor.” You threw at him, a sickly sweet smile on your face.

“Okay in all seriousness - I heard that there was another supposedly haunted house a few miles from here. When do you guys wanna go and explore that one? Next week? Friday? Satur-“

“How about never. We ain’t doin’ that shit again. You can go by yourself next time, homie.”

#oscar diaz x reader #oscar diaz headcanon #oscar diaz omb #oscar diaz #oscar diaz smut #oscar diaz imagine #oscar spooky diaz #julio macias imagine #julio macias #jamal turner #jamal turner x reader #netflix on my block #on my block imagine #omb cast #omb #on my block #funhouse

[puckmeupfam]

Sap | Jeff Skinner

Word Count: 2287

Note: My autumnal aesthetic piece that I started in July. Title is based on the fact that this is entirely fluff without plot, and because it takes place in the Northeast with references to maple syrup, cider donuts, and leaf-peeping. 

Zipping your newly packed suitcase and pulling it off the bed, you heard the front door open signaling that Jeff arrived home from practice. It was a rare time when he had the weekend off. No games, no practices after the one he just finished, just free time which he chose to devote to spending with you. The two of you loved going on short trips whenever possible to escape the monotony of work and grocery shopping and Buffalo. Honestly, you could spend the weekend in Lackawanna and be happy as long as you were with Jeff. This particular weekend was special because it was now solidly fall. The temperatures were dropping. The leaves were changing. Swimsuits were being swapped out for sweaters. And golf was being replaced by hockey.

You had spent most of the summer in Markham. Coming from a smaller family, you were always enamored by Jeff’s. At this point, you honestly considered them to be your family, too. You loved talking to Jillian about her time in law school or asking Ben about his hockey career in Germany. It was also hilarious to watch the five siblings tease Jeff about his competitiveness or on-ice gaffs, but he was always a good sport about it and just laughed with bright red cheeks. You knew how much it meant to Jeff when he got to spend time with his family and experience that warmth and joy. The both of you were incredibly lucky that Buffalo isn’t too far away, but with his schedule, the uninterrupted summer was extra special.

As you were lost in your thoughts, you missed Jeff coming up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. His arms wrapped around your waist and his face found its way into the crook of your neck. The action brought an unconscious smile to your face as you leaned back into him.

“Whatcha thinking about?” he asked you, voice muffled against your skin as he lightly swayed. You shrugged in response, “We should probably get Andrea a birthday gift while we’re gone, something nice you know? Show we were thinking about her.” Jeff hummed in response. He rocked the two of you a bit before speaking, “Are you ready to leave?” You took a deep breath, inhaling his cologne. Turning your body to look him in the eye you smiled softly, “Almost,” you whispered, “we should probably get going before they decide they need you to individually kiss each fan.” This elicited a booming laugh from Jeff that you felt throughout your body, “The only person I’m kissing is you.”

After another minute of contentment, you shuffled him away from you to grab some chargers and last-minute necessities. He chuckled as he started pulling your suitcase down to the car, he knew how much you were looking forward to this trip. You had spent the last week researching and talking about all the spots you wanted to visit while you were away. Grabbing your purse and hoisting it over your shoulder you did a last-minute sweep of the house to make sure that everything was unplugged and you weren’t leaving candles lit or stovetops on. After your anxieties were quelled you went outside and joined Jeff in the car. He had already put your B&B into the GPS and he flashed you a large grin which you eagerly matched as he pulled out of the driveway.

This trip the two of you were going to Western Massachusetts. It was about a five and a half hour drive, probably longer since you knew you would be stopping for lunch and every state park that came your way. You synched your phone and started playing music, knowing that you had a playlist with the perfect ambiance. Jeff always teased you for making playlists for every mood, weather pattern, task, or aesthetic that came in your head. But when the soft chords came through the speakers and his fingers started a gentle tap against the steering wheel to the beat, you knew that it was appreciated.

In Buffalo, the weather was just cool enough that the seat warmers got turned on but not yet so cold that you were shivering. You were cruising down the highway, close to crossing city lines. When you glanced over at Jeff he had a small smile, like he wasn’t even thinking about it. Just watching the road with an underlying well of happiness. You took a minute to look at him, to take him in. His smile turned out to be infectious and you knew your face was probably spread with a dopey grin.

“You’re staring,” Jeff said, breaking the silence.

“You didn’t even look over. How would you know?” you complained.

“I could feel your stare,” he responded, looking over at you with a grin that took over his whole face. His statement made you burst out laughing. While the whole thing was funny and, you were sure that he really did get that weird feeling you get when someone’s looking at you, it made you think about how you were always so aware of each other. The two of you could be in a crowd of people at some Sabres bruncheon and someway somehow you could always glance up and see him already looking at you. Or when you would go to some team party, you always had a tendency to reach for each other’s hands at the same time.

“You would stare at you too,” was your response after you had realized that you went a few beats too long just staring into space.

It was Jeff’s turn to laugh, “what does that even mean?”

“It means,” you started, drawing out the word, “that you’re cute and potentially the embodiment of sunshine and everyone would stare at you if they could and I will simply not defend myself further.”

Jeff rolled his eyes at your dramatic tone and faux-seriousness. He swung his arm out over to you, holding it in the air until you grabbed his hand in both of yours. You pulled his hand into your lap and leaned further back into the passenger seat. Turning your head to the side to watch the city escape, your eyes unfocused and your brain turned to elevator music as your temple rested against the window. After a few minutes of contented silence, Jeff’s hand made its way to your thigh and squeezed, drawing your attention.

“Look at the leaves, babe,” he told you. The passing trees were dotted with warm-colored leaves of crimson, tangerine, marigold, and honey. It was absolutely gorgeous and seemed like a sign that your trip was only going to get better. You stared in awe for about a mile before you looked back at Jeff. His eyes flickered from the road to your face and the look he gave you, full of love and peace, made you feel so warm.

“They’re so pretty,” you said softly. You moved your hand to twine your fingers together and you watched his dimples come out in full force as he forced his eyes to stay on the road. After a few moments of contentment, you spoke again, “do you want me to tell you about the plant pigments that make these colors possible?”

Jeff chuckled, but you knew that your joke didn’t ruin the moment or anything else that you might think if you were talking to someone else. Because Jeff knew you, he loved you. He loved your bad jokes, your stories that you’ve already told him multiple times but just like telling again and again, the way you go into lectures to explain things that he had never thought twice about, your urge to talk during movies to comment on the scene or the actor’s personal life. He loved the best parts of you and he loved the worst parts of you. And this moment? Where you feel the light beaming out of your heart. It isn’t the moment. It’s just a moment in a string of hundreds of thousands of moments that you’ll experience with your favorite person.

--

After about two hours in the car, you were close to Syracuse and decided to stop for lunch. The two of you decided on a cute, local diner. Jeff parked the car and as you stepped out, you stretched your legs to rid yourself of the wobbly feeling from being in a car too long. The sidewalks were made of a red brick and there was a quiet hustle with people walking their dogs and couples going in and out of shops. The two of you walked side-by-side, but right when you were about to reach the door Jeff stepped ahead to hold it open for you. Stepping through you smiled at him and he followed you in. There seemed to be a typical lunch rush, but the restaurant wasn’t crowded. A waitress pointed you towards a booth and you slumped into it as Jeff sat across from you.

You both ordered coffees before cracking the menu open to see what they had. The pages were lined with different sandwiches, egg dishes, pancakes, and all the typical diner food that you loved. You settled on your order fairly quickly but Jeff scanned the pages until the coffees were brought out and the waitress was asking for your order. Handing her your menu, you explained what you wanted before both of you turned your attention towards your boyfriend.

“Could I have the brownie french toast?”

At that you raised your eyebrows at him incredulously. As the waitress walked away, scribbling your orders down as she went, Jeff looked back at you and laughed at your expression. “Cheat weekend,” was his explanation. He shrugged with an expression on his face like he was being forced to order what was likely the sugariest option on the menu. You threw your hands up to say you weren’t judging. Jeff quickly launched into a story about something Jack did at practice and that filled your wait until the food was brought to your table. Your boyfriend’s eyes widened comically when his food came out. It looked like there had been a blizzard of powdered sugar. It was topped with a whopping pile of whipped cream and a generous amount of rainbow sprinkles, just in case the brownie batter wasn't sweet enough.

Neither of you wasted any time in diving into your food and when you glanced up at Jeff after a few minutes you giggled when you saw that some of that whipped cream had ended up on his nose. You stealthily pulled out your phone to snap a picture of him. Once he heard the click of your camera he looked up at you which reignited your laughter.

“What?” he asked, chuckling lightly with you even without knowing the reason.

Without explaining yourself, you just reached out and swiped the sweet substance off his face before licking it off your finger. His response was just a sharp laugh with rolled eyes, head thrown back a bit at your antics. He knew full well that you were going to tease him for a long time for his choice of ridiculously confectionary lunch. You returned to your food with a shake of your head, but when you turned to take a sip of your coffee you noticed that Jeff had absolutely demolished his plate of french toast and was now trying to collect the remnant of whipped cream with his fork.

“It’s not going to be my fault when you crash from all that sugar,” you told him. He watched you dig your teeth into your lip to try and conceal the smile that was threatening to break through.

“Honestly, (Y/N), I’ve never felt better in my life. The sprinkles fuel me. I think I’ll make this my pre-game meal,” Jeff said with an air of seriousness. Sadly for him, but luckily for you, he had a genetic inability to suppress his smiles. You leaned back in the booth until your head hit the pleather upholstery and kicked your feet up to rest in his lap underneath the table.

“Don’t overwhelm yourself, I’m taking you to the Sugar Shack tomorrow and we’re getting the cider donuts.”

Jeff pulled a shocked and aghast face in response, “How dare you insinuate that I would ever be anything other than thrilled at the very prospect of cider donuts? You know, just because you said that I’m going to get two orders and we’ll see what you say when I eat those and yours too.”

You rolled your eyes so dramatically that you knew, if your mom were there, she would be telling you that they’d get stuck like that. Under the table, you kicked your legs up to rest in Jeff’s lap as he waved his arm to flag down the waitress for the bill. You sat quietly, just watching as he went through the monotony of thanking the waitress and putting his card in the sleeve of the bill. When he looked back at you, he smiled knowing that he caught you staring for the second time that day.

“You ready?” He asked you. A simple question, given that you were on a roadtrip with a predetermined destination. But with the opportunity to just appreciate him and your relationship, without the stress of your schedules or outside influences, it just felt meaningful. There was no one you would rather be with, during the happiest moments of your life or the worst. You felt a little misty with the joy of having him by your side.

“With you? Always.”

Pulling yourself out of the booth, you extended your hand for him to grasp and continued onwards.

#Jeff skinner #Jeff skinner imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #nhl fic #buffalo sabres imagine #j.skinner #based in the fall started in the summer posting in the winter #not proofread #tw food

[redqueen-hypothesis]

duo dates ➳ mlqc

KIRO

⤞ visiting animal rescue shelters together

it’s obvious that kiro has quite the soft spot for furry animals from the sheer number of strays he’s picked off the streets one way or another. both amused and inspired by how excited he gets from being around apple box and cello, you decide to feature him in one of your documentaries about abandoned pets, allowing him to work with a rescue shelter for a day. you’ve never seen him so excited, giggles and delighted laughter falling freely from his mouth as puppies and kittens crawl over him, nosing and licking at every part of him. he gets very emotional when he hears about the number of animals that get abandoned and have to be euthanized once they stop being ‘cute’, and the staff lets out a collective sniff from behind the cameras when they see his own eyes filling with tears.

so, it’s no surprise when kiro decides to head back to the animal shelter on his own, and he invites you along with him too! the two of you become longtime volunteers at the shelter, and kiro absolutely loves the animals there (you’d jokingly told him that you’re jealous before, to which he showered you with loud kisses and ardent declarations of love until you were dying of embarrassment). he names all of the animals there with some of the weirdest names, like ‘triangle ears’ and ‘fur tail’, but tends to forget them and mix them up with each visit. will wear the animal mascot suit and stand outside to encourage volunteers to sign up, and gives monthly anonymous donations but the staff all know it’s him. he complains they only treat him extra nice during that time, but you know all the staff adore him (and honestly, who doesn’t, with that pure heart and bright smile?)

not afraid to get down and dirty with the animals! you and the rest of the staff watch with varying degrees of admiration (and horror) as he throws himself into the mud along with the animals, stealing squeaky toys and toy bones alike from right under their noses and running for his life as a pack of dogs chase him from behind. when kiro’s exhausted himself playing with them, he’ll come into the shade damp with sweat and immediately flop down with his head on your lap, pretending to snore loudly, although he really does fall asleep sometimes. refers to himself as the dad and you as the mom, and will sometimes tell the pups to ask you for permission to wolf down their dog chow. “it’s practice for taking care of our future family!” he insists, wrapping his arms around you right after he’s finished chasing the dogs in the rain. when you shake your head and ask him where on earth you’re going to find a family as chaotic as this, he slyly winks and says he wants as many kids as there are dogs in the shelter. you aim a kick at him.

GAVIN

⤞ learning self defense from him

it had started for a multitude of reasons. first of all, you had mentioned wanting to get into shape and shed some excess some way, and had been looking for a way to get fit quickly. secondly, there had been a stalker who had been following you home for a few nights when you left the office late, although that had been quickly put to an end when gavin came over to pick you up on a late night food run and promptly made the guy eat pavement. he’d been worried about you, and suggested learning a form of self defense in order to better protect yourself in case he wasn’t there. lastly, you wanted to see gavin sleeveless, sweaty and... yeah. that’s it. that’s the reason.

the first few lessons, you’re so distracted by that tight fitting black tank top and dear lord those arms and abs that you nearly get your nose broken by your dear teacher gavin, who panics for a good entire hour and won’t stop apologising. he suggests stopping the lessons, but you insist on continuing, determined to actually focus this time round (you can ogle his body another time when there isn’t a fist flying at your face). it starts off as a way to spend more time with gavin and allowing him to do what he likes at first, but then your competitive side quickly starts to take over and you find yourself becoming more and more interested in the sport itself. gavin never really goes very hard on you, but he isn’t an easy coach either. he works with you to improve your fitness levels, going to the gym with you, following you on your jogging rounds whenever you want him to, and letting you punch him all you want (your hands probably hurt more than his rock hard body does anyway).

your favourite part, though, is watching gavin truly sink into his element, because he looks extra hot when he’s in the fighting ring squaring off in a practice match against another opponent. there’s a calm, composed expression on his face, but his eyes shine with a dangerous light that remind you of a starving wolf. when he does go toe to toe with his opponent, you rarely have a second to blink before gavin’s already moving lightning quick to take his him down. it’s a side of him you rarely get to see since he’s always so sweet and tender with you, but you can’t help gushing to him about how sexy he is and watching as his ears burn bright red with barely suppressed (but pleased) embarrassment. in the fighting gym, you’re the only one who’s managed a takedown on him before so you’re somewhat of a legend, but you had played dirty, kissing him full on the mouth when he wasn’t expecting it and he had promptly frozen on the spot.

suffice to say no one else has dared to replicate the technique on him.

VICTOR

⤞ teaching him the ways of an arcade

he would have never agreed to this if he had known just how awful he was at these. victor li can conquer the financial business scene in less than five years straight out of college but can’t for the life of him pass a single level of dance off, much less win against a child less than half his age. he looks so... uncomfortable stepping into that noisy space playing all sorts of loud, upbeat music at once, ear splitting hollers from kids playing other games punctuating the mishmash of songs - it’s only then that you realise that victor has never, in his entire childhood, set foot into an arcade before.

you collect your card at the counter before dragging him to the racing games, sitting him firmly down in your seat before teaching him how to customise his own car. he would have spent hours doing this until you nudge him to the next section, the actual race, and that’s when he starts panicking in typical victor fashion, trying to act calm but asking all sorts of funny questions. demands to know what’s the difference in the game for auto and manual steering, protests repeatedly that “this isn’t how a car works”. it’s even more hilarious seeing him try out the dance games, in which he had faced off against a ten year old and promptly lost. it hurt his pride, but you had laughed so hard your face turned red, so maybe it’s worth it. but only a little bit. and he’s still not doing this again. awhile into the arcade he begins to relax a little and his competitive side starts to shine through, he’s no longer worried about looking like an idiot and instead puts his all into every single game. in fact, you find yourself increasingly distracted by that very endearing expression of focus on his face as he awkwardly tries to navigate his long legs according to the beat, and the childish excitement plain on his face when he finally passes a level makes you smile so hard your cheeks hurt.

at this point, he’s calling the claw machine a complete scam and is ready to sue the entire arcade chain when you’ve decided enough is enough and pull him from the arcade. the two of you end up cramped in a photobooth with your prizes, a totoro hood for him and a rabbit ear headband for you, and you keep the polaroids in your wallet ever since then. you don’t realise that he’s stolen one for himself, and now it sits buried deep in the drawer of his work desk where he looks at it secretly when you aren’t there.

LUCIEN

⤞ horror house/escape room to find his weakness

lucien’s practically unflappable in any situation, seemingly able to respond to any crisis or chaos with the same, serene smile. when you ask him what he’s afraid of, he gives you the same cheesy answer he always does: losing you is the only thing he’s fearful of (to which you just don’t stop blushing, no matter how many times he says it. is it the way he looks at you, or the way his voice just drops to a genuine, low whisper whenever he says it?) as such, you had challenged yourself to find out what his weaknesses were, and tried a variety of the strangest ideas on the internet such as sticking toy cockroaches in the kitchen, only to get terrified yourself at the sight of a forgotten dummy you’d left on the shelf and had nearly broken a cup in the process. after that, lucien had suggested taking your attempts out of the house instead - and thus, horror houses and escape rooms it was.

going to horror houses with lucien is probably the best and worst idea you’ve ever had. in terms of effectiveness of achieving your goal, it’s completely useless - even the most terrifying and renowned of horror houses have lucien walking out completely unfazed, or worse, carrying you in his arms bridal style because your legs are shaking too much to walk straight. the only upside to this is that when you’re terrified, you cling to lucien and he just whispers soothing words into your hair, explaining how the horror house uses mist and smoke dispensers here and there, how the lights change colour and where the actors hide. the poor actors have probably gotten tired of being repeatedly exposed and having to change positions, so many of the horror houses just give the two of you complementary coupons and beg you not to come back. the photos you get of the two of you always include you with the strangest expressions, while lucien’s face just looks like a ctrl+c ctrl+v of his usual expression.

in the end, you give up trying to scare him and just enjoy the horror houses with him, clinging to his arm when you’re scared and letting him calm you down. from the content smile on lucien’s face you see in the pictures, he looks like he’s rather enjoying this. you don’t know this, but he actually buys all the pictures and puts them in his own personal photo album. you’ll probably die of shame if you find out.

SHAW

⤞ busking together on the streets

you had mentioned being extremely nervous about your first time performing live at the live house with the band, so shaw had dragged you along with him to go busking on the streets with him. at first, you had been extremely resistant to the idea (it’s on the streets!! where people can just!! take videos of you and the entire world will know if you screw up!!), but shaw had encouraged you in his own strange way that included a lot of teasing, goading and actual breaking down of how the process would go before you felt confident enough to go with him. “don’t worry,” shaw had said standoffishly as he helped you set up your keyboard, not looking at you the entire time. “i’m way more handsome, so i’m sure they’ll be looking at me the entire time and won’t even notice if you play a completely different song.” offended, you had pulled at his ear, but you were smiling secretly to yourself the entire time, and whispered a ‘thanks’ under your breath. he pretended not to have heard it, but from the way his smirk seemed just a hint happier the entire evening, he must have.

you love little moments that lead up to the actual busking sessions every weekend, sending each other songs and working out the keys over the duration of the week. practicing together and watching as your chemistry falls more and more in sync until the two of you can do perfect runs without any words spoken between you, until you can read the little subtle cues in the way he flexes his fingers on the fretboard before going in on a particularly difficult solo, or the way he turns back to glance at you when your parts are coming up. perhaps the best thing of all is the test covers he sends you to discuss the song flows, because you (secretly) love the sound of his voice when he sings and keep every recording, listening to them when you fall asleep at night (little do you know he does the exact same thing, although he would rather die than let you find out).

shaw covers up for you when you play wrong notes, but he relentlessly teases you for them afterwards. throws hands if any hecklers in the audience insult your playing, and you have to drag him away, apologising for the rudeness while trying not to smile too hard as shaw swears loudly behind you. the money you make from the busking is usually spend on a late night supper after your busking sessions in small food joints whose owners and customers all seem to know shaw somehow, calling him a little rascal and thanking you for mellowing him out. shaw retorts by calling them old men spouting nonsense, hiding a fond smirk behind the cup of his pepsi-coke mix and stuffing food in your mouth when you laugh at him.

#mlqc #mlqc fanfic #mlqc lucien #mlqc gavin #mlqc victor #mlqc shaw #mlqc kiro #lucien #lucien xu #mr love lucien #lucien fanfic #kiro #kiro zhou #mr love kiro #gavin bai #mr love gavin #gavin x reader #victor li #mr love victor #shaw #mr love queen's choice shaw

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Premier.”

Since so many of you have been asking about the movie, I wrote something for you this morning. I wrote it in two hours and have to get it out before class starts, so give me a little slack here. 

“Stop fidgeting will you.”

“Sorry! I’m just nervous….. Do I look stupid.”

“You always look stupid, that’s not going to change anytime soon.”

“Ha ha, Hilarious, Just answer the question.”

“You look fine stop worrying.”

Adam turned to face the mirror tugging at the sleeves of his dress shirt, fidgeting obsessively with his tie, and the open front of his jacket. Conn floated over his shoulder grinning somewhat malevolently at him.

Krill slapped his hand as he tried to reach for the tie again, “Stop messing with it. Look what you did now. We will have to do it all over again.” 

The little doctor angrily undid the tie and began to redo it.

Adam sighed, “Thanks mother.”

“Don’t give me your sass.” he finished tying the knot stepping back so Adam had room to button the vest back up before turning around to face the mirror. Conn had sidled over to the side of the room still leering at him as he was prone to do.

He tried to ignore him and eyed himself feeling more than a little strange in such formal attire, a three piece suit minus an eye patch, and plus a shiny pair of dress shoes he could have seen his reflection in. He reached up to grab his tie again, but his hand was slapped away.

“What did I say!”

“Sorry, Sorry.” he grumbled pulling back to message his hand .

There was a hiss as the door at the far end of the room popped open, and Sunny stepped inside trailed by waffles, “Look.” Sunny began, pointing proudly towards the dog, who trotted into the room to sit politely before Adam looking up at him with her big brown eyes head tilted slightly to the side.

He laughed, “Is that a bow tie?”

Sunny Hummed to herself, pleased, “Why yes, yes it is. She's adorable and you’re welcome.”

He reached down to rub the dog’s ears before looking up, “You look nice.”

“I know.” Sunny announced striking a rather, heroic pose, which, all jesting aside, actually completed the look: bright silver armor, a horned helmet, all pulled together by the electric blue silk cape that hung at one shoulder.

“Wish I could wear a cape.” He frowned crossing his arms in mild dejection.

“Why not?”

“What do you mean why not?”

“This is the movie industry, Adam, they wear outlandish stuff onto the red carpet all the time.”

He seemed rather miffed at the observation, mostly from the fact he hadn’t thought of that before, “Well now it’s a little too late, don’t you think?”

“Sucks to suck, you look good though.”

He sighed and turned back towards the mirror adjusting himself, “I look like a poser.”

“Stop worrying so much, and stop fidgeting. The fidgeting is what makes you look like a poser. Relax and own it, you know for someone who spends a lot of his time unwaveringly confident to the point that I worry about your health, you can be very insecure sometimes.”

“Thank you so much! for that boost of confidence, Sunny.”

His sarcasm wasn’t lost on her, though she chose, rather obviously to ignore it. 

“There is one thing I think you should do.” 

“Oh, and what is that.”

“Put the eyepatch back on. Be you, just the fancier version. I have a theory that the reason people aren't comfortable is because they aren't being themselves.” 

He raised an eyebrow at her then shrugged, “If you say so, I guess.” 

He could hear Conn snort internally, “That is horrible advice for most people, since the vast majority of them are miserable hacks.”

He ignored the starborne, again. 

There was a sudden knock at the door, and they all turned to see another man dressed in a fine black suit, “Mr. Ellis has just arrived, and is his car is waiting for you outside.”

Adam took a deep breath glancing down at the eye patch one more time before slipping it on, “Alright, ready everyone?”

They chorused their readiness, and he squirmed with nervous energy. 

How were they all being so calm?

Together they made their way out the door and down the hallway to the large, black limousine waiting for them just outside the door. The man from earlier was waiting for them, pulling the door open and motioning them inwards.  

Conn floated in first, Krill climbing in second, followed by Adam and then Sunny.

Director Clayton Ellis sat just inside the door grinning widely.

Adam had to blink a few times to determine which part of the man was which. There was just so much of him ... everywhere . He wore a white… something absolutely crusted with sequins and jewels including the frames of his glasses. As far as Adam could tell he could have been wearing a dress, or a suit with some strange alteration, though it was difficult to see sitting here in the car.

The ribbons that flowed down from his back and hips sort of reminded him of Conn.

“Adam! So good, so good to see you. I am so glad you could make it for the premier. I think you're going to love it, absolutely visually stunning, heart rending at times, and just the right amount of action. Best piece I think I have ever directed, and all thanks to you, the man of the hour. And don’t you look sharp, absolutely working for me very old fashioned very provincial late 1990s early 2000s maybe.”

Adam rubbed the back of his neck, blushing, “Er, thanks…. You look good…. Too.”

“Well thank you! Designed it myself, well with the help of some famous friends.” He motioned towards Conn, “Took the concept idea from your starborn there, very ethereal, very flowey, though doesn’t look so elegant when sitting in a car.” 

Adam just continued to nod along adding an mmhmm or a yes, or and of course whenever he thought it was necessary. Luckily Mr. Ellis provided most of the conversation, so he didn’t have to open his mouth too much.

He noticed almost immediately when the car slowed down glancing out the window and finding…. An absolute mob of people. His stomach lurched and churned as cameras flashed, some held in hands, others as little ball drones hovering over the crowd. He craned his neck to see ahead of them, watching as a line of fancy dark cars slowly scooted up the line.

His stomach was churning.

From where he sat, he watched as Keith Jenning, the actor who had played him, stepped from the car. The lashing grew in intensity, outside the window he could hear a muffled roar. 

Mr Ellis Grinned, “Me, you, and then your extraterrestrial friends, eh? Give them something to talk about.

The next car ahead of them stopped, and Rita. Ortiz, and Adler Handen, krill’s voice actor, stepped from the car. Rita was dressed in a tight black suit, not dissimilar to his own, silver watch shining on her left wrist.

And there it was.

He suddenly needed to pee.

Their car lurched forward as the cameras flashed and stopped. Clayton Elllis got ready, and then the door was opened releasing a wave of sound that absolutely deafened him. Clayton stepped from the car trails of ribbons billowing behind him, hands raised to the crowd. Lights flashed pictures snapped.

Adam was ushered out next, Stepping from the car, foot planted straight on the red carpet. Lights dazzled his eyes, and in a daze he stepped forward to follow Clayton, who was making the most of his moment. 

“WE LOVE YOU COMMANDER!”

He turned his head to the side suddenly blinded by another flash of light, as one of those camera drones zipped past him.

He blinked the light from his eyes just in time to see a group of women leaning out over barricade waving their hands and screaming furiously.

At that moment he wondered which was redder, his face or the carpet.

He gave a rather awkward wave towards the girls who absolute erupted into screaming and jumping.

Then the crowd silenced a moment later, the lights stopping.

And he turned to see Sunny step foot after him, light glittering and sparkling form her armor and carapace. She held her regal armored head high.

IThe moment of silence continued for a second, and then it was as if the world around them was alight with stars, a flashing roaring thunder, which only grew louder with Krill and finally with Conn, who flouted outwards completely stealing the spotlight with his ethereal presence. Together they slowly walked forward stopped on occasion to get group pictures

In their turn, each of them was kidnapped by Ellis and forced to pose for a thousand pictures.

He just grinned dazed and confused star struck as he looked around him.

He even thought he could hear his name being called from the crowd, though that was uncertain.

TV reporters stood at the end of the red carpet speaking frantically into their cameras and waylaying celebrities as they walked by.

“Keith Jenning, tell us about what it was like to make this movie.”

The man flashed a charming smile, “Well, at first I was a little unsure. I mean I had never done anything based on a real life story before, and emulating another person was hard. I worked with posture coaches, and accent experts for weeks. A mid Americana accent is surprisingly subtle, but very hard if you want to get it right. Over all, I actually ended up really enjoying shooting the movie despite my doubts at first.”

“Rita, was it hard to perform in stilts and motion capture, we heard you almost broke your legs.”

She laughed, “It was hard yeah sure, but it was so, very fun. You know what you act normally, you do your best to act as convincingly human as possible, but when playing an alien, the rules change, go out the window. I had so much fun learning about Drev culture, and the way they think about war. It was a fascinating and eye opening experience. I loved it, and I encourage everyone to get to know a little more about our interstellar neighbors.”

Lights flashed, more cameras snapped.

“Did you find it hard to connect with the character?” Someone asked Adler Handen.

“Not in the slightest, it was actually a very excellent way to get out there and stretch my proverbial wings. It’s always good to get out of your head on occasion.

Sunny was grabbed and pulled to stand in a picture with Rita, who seemed more than pleased to be spending time with Sunny.

It was the same for Krill, and finally Adam who was dragged forward to get a picture with Keith.

Off to the side Clayton Ellis was excitedly rambling on, “Oh I absolutely love the movie, couldn’t be happier. I really think we did the source material justice, and honestly I think it really puts perspective on the Drev war, and the people involved. You know with all the negativity going around about the LFIL, there are a lot of people who are scared of aliens, Xenophobic in nature, and I think this really puts into persepctive just how similar we all are. They are intelligent sentient lifeforms not so dissimilar to us at all, and I think this movie, this real life story really demonstrates how we can all get past those differences.”

Adam was quite pleased to hear the relative positivity that was coming off the actors and the director, even if it was fake.

That was before the camera crews descended like vultures around him, and he was surrounded by a wave of cameras.

“Commander, Commander Vir! Tell us how you feel about all this.”

He hemmed and hawed for a moment stuttering over himself before taking a deep breath, “Look I’m A kid from mid Mericanda, I honestly ended up here mostly by accident, and I’m pretty sure this is some kind of insane dream.”

“What did you think of the movie.”

“Well, I haven't actually seen it yet, I was deployed when they did the beta testing, but I’ve gotten to know Director Ellis a little, and he was very open to my suggestions and the story, so I feel confident he did his best to do it justice.” 

“We hear that you won’t be taking any of the royalties.”

“Well no, not entirely. Maybe a little for my family, but most of it is going to a charity for Drev war survivors, especially operation Steel eye. A lot of those people had it rough after the war, and I want to make sure they get something back.”

Across the red carpet, Sunny had been stopped, “Do you worry that depictions of the war will put your society in a bad light.”

Sunny tilted her head, “Why would it. The Drev are warlike, and we always have been. The only difference is that we practice and view war differently than humans. War has never come close to destroying our planet. To die in war is an honor and a victory, so we do not hold grudges against each other or assume it to be a tragedy. War on our planet's mean two different things.”

“Dr Krill, is it true that you were the first alien surgeon to perform on a human trauma paitent.

“That is actually true, yes, even during the Drev war, it turns out 98% of attending physicians were human because humans tended to be the highest rate of survivors from injury. Humans being slightly more durable than the rest of us.”

In the center of the red carpet, Conn had taken up a large space given a certain amount of personal room by the awed  crowd, “Is it true that you’re a telepath.”

The starborn raised his hands signing, voice dictation taking over as he did so, “Think of something, try it.”

“Oh, Ok.”

“Big purple muffin.”

“You could have just made that up.”

“But he didn’t, that’s exactly what I was thinking.” 

“Don’t be nervous. I promise not to spill any of you deep dark secrets.” Conn laughed like the psycho he was.”

After more pictures, more questions and a hundred more handshakes, they were then ushered into the building, and sat down on comfortable seats facing the screen.

Adam breathed a heavy sigh of relief and leaned his head back. 

Director Ellis grinned at him.

Light overhead went dark and speaking turned to distant quiet muttering.

The screen was dark for a long moment before.

“Mom?” A child’s voice 

“Yes Adam?” A womans 

“I know they’re out there .”

The woman laughed, “Who is out there.”

“Aliens of course.”

“Oh?”

“I’m gonna prove it one day.”

You could hear the smile in the woman’s voice, “I know you will.”

 And then the room began to shake with the thrilling roar of the F-80 Darkfire engine. 

He would have known that sound anywhere.

It sounded like home.

[evilrubberducke]

IzuMina Week Day 4- Closet Full of Love

Well, it took me almost a week longer than I wanted to, but I finally have the fourth prompt done. The week may be over, but I’m going to keep going till I’m finished.

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23418139 Or on FF.Net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13530836/4/IzuMina-Week-2020

Izuku was sure that the sound of his beating heart could be heard across the entire campus. Sweat dripped from his brow, and his hands felt clammy despite his numerous attempts to wipe them off on his pants.

“M-Mina,” he whispered as loudly as he dared, “a-are you almost done?”

“Just... one… second…” Mina grunted, struggling to make herself understood around the sheet of tin foil currently clenched in her teeth.

Izuku still wasn’t sure how he’d let himself be talked into the escapade. Mina was persuasive, yes, but this was a bit beyond his usual boyfriend duties. Somehow, though, she’d made it seem like an opportunity to become a better hero, instead of just pranking their teachers.

She had described it as “Training his observational skills, as well as his ability to stay cool under pressure”. He suspected she’d asked Yaoyorozu to help her come up with some fancy terms for the activities, ones that were sure to grab his attention.

In reality, she had him keeping an eye out for any teachers returning to the teacher’s lounge early, while she wrapped their desks entirely in tin foil. She’d already finished with Midnight, Present Mic, and All Might’s desks, but Aizawa’s tendency to pile things haphazardly on his desk, forming great piles that threatened to fall over at the slightest touch, was slowing things down significantly. 

Izuku was about to tell her to simply leave it when his worst fears came true. The unmistakable laughter of Present Mic echoed down the hall, causing Izuku’s stomach to bottom out instantly.

He peeked around the corner as far as he dared, then whipped his head back around as he spotted their enthusiastic English teacher, as well as Midnight walking down the hall towards them. There was always a chance that they weren’t heading towards the teacher’s lounge, but Izuku highly doubted that, considering his luck.

“Mina!” he hissed as loudly as he dared, “Present Mic and Midnight are coming!”

She looked up from Aizawa’s desk with a scowl. “Nuts! I was almost done, too. C’mon Izuku, time to blow this joint!”

She hopped to her feet, grabbing the bag with the remaining rolls of tin foil, and grabbed his arm. She hadn’t been quite clear on how they would escape in such a situation, simply assuring Izuku that she had a plan. Now, it seemed, he was going to see it in action.

To his surprise and trepidation, she made her way over to one of the outside windows and popped it open in one swift motion. As she did, Izuku realized that her plan was to have them jump out the window and run for their lives before the teachers could catch them. He’d certainly pulled crazier stunts during his time at UA, but the idea of jumping out a third floor window still made him antsy.

“Mina, maybe we should just—”

“Get down!” Mina suddenly hissed, pushing him away from the window.

“What is it?”

“Hound Dog is eating lunch down there.”

Now that she said it, Izuku could hear the sounds of lips smacking vigorously and exclamations of pleasure. Apparently whatever the guidance counselor was eating, it was quite delicious. 

The small seating area directly below the teacher’s lounge window was fairly isolated from the rest of campus, surrounded by high shrubbery and tall trees, making it the perfect place to eat in peace. Izuku had slipped away to sit there a few times during his first few weeks on campus when the hustle and bustle of the class got to be too much for him. He figured that Hound Dog used the space to eat freely, since the hero seemed to be a little worried about scaring people with his powerful jaws.

The sounds of eating weren’t the only things Izuku could hear, however. Present Mic’s voice had been joined by the clicking sound of Midnight’s heels as she marched down the hall. They were much louder than an ordinary pair, leading Izuku and the rest of the class that her heels were tipped with metal so that she could use them for combat, as well as for fashion.

“Got any bright ideas Izuku?” Mina asked, turning to face him. 

He racked his brain furiously for a solution to their predicament. Truthfully, they would probably be fine if they were caught. Present Mic was always telling jokes in class, so he would probably find the whole thing hilarious. Midnight was harder to predict, but she probably wouldn’t do anything too ridiculous to them with her colleague right there. That said, Izuku would still prefer not to be remembered as the guy who got caught trying to prank the teachers.

If they tried to sneak out the door, they would run straight into their teachers, and the window would be just the same, which meant exiting the classroom was a no go, unless he wanted to burst his way through a wall.

Finally, Izuku’s eyes alighted on a large closet in the corner of the room. It was big enough for two people to fit inside, assuming the closet wasn’t already full, and they didn’t mind being a little close to each other. 

“Over here!” he said, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the closet.

The teachers apparently used it for coat storage, which worked out perfectly for their purposes, since there was still room for them to hide in. Izuku recognized the jacket for All Might’s suit, as well as what seemed to be a spare trench coat for Ectoplasm. Before he could puzzle through who owned the rest of the coats, Mina stepped into the closet, shoved the garments to the side as best she could, and pulled him in after her before shutting the door behind them.

It was a tighter squeeze than Izuku had been initially hoping for, and he found himself pressed tightly against Mina in order to remain hidden in the closet. His nose was pressed into her hair, letting him smell her shampoo with every inhale, and he could feel her own breath on his neck in a way that was very distracting. The tips of her horns rubbed against his forehead as well, just gently enough to remind him of their existence without irritating his skin.

He swallowed hard. This was absolutely not the time to be distracted by how pretty his girlfriend was. Instead, he ran over hero factoids in his head, hoping that they would distract him from his current predicament. They, unfortunately, did not, but the arrival of their teachers into the lounge did.

“You’re pulling my leg Hizashi. There’s no way you actually got him in that outfi— what the heck happened here?”

“Looks like you and All Might got pranked!” Present Mic said, with obvious levity in his voice, “That’s what you get for teasing the kids, instead of befriending them. I, on the other hand, am their favorite tea— oh come on, not me too!”

“They even got Shouta,” Midnight said, “Do you think he’ll bother taking the tin foil off of anything he doesn’t need to use right away?”

Present Mic snickered. “Probably not. It ‘Wouldn’t be logical’!” he said, doing a truly horrendous imitation of Aizawa.

Midnight laughed as well. “That sounds like him. How long do you think he’ll leave his desk tin foiled for anyways? My bet’s on at least two weeks.”

“Nah, it’s gonna take him at least three,” Present Mic replied. His statement was quickly followed by the sound of tearing tin foil, indicating that the Voice Hero had begun to clear his desk off.

“I’ll take that action,” Midnight said, “Hows 5000 yen sound?”

“Hah! You still owe me from our last bet. Settle up, and we’ll talk.”

Midnight scoffed. “What, do you think I’m not good for it?”

“I think you’re still sore about me calling Kaminari and Jirou hooking up.”

Izuku’s eyes widened, and he felt Mina’s breath catch. Had they really just heard that? Were the teachers betting on which members of their class would end up dating?

“Am not!” Midnight said, sounding rather scandalized, “Besides, you’re the one who’s down a pair. I still called Uraraka and Tsuyu, as well as Ashido and Midoriya.”

He shouldn’t be horrifically surprised, but Izuku still felt his stomach do a small flip at hearing his and Mina’s names come up in the conversation. The sensation only heightened at Present Mic’s reply, however.

“Called nothing! You cheated with those two, and you know it!”

“I didn’t cheat,” Midnight said indignantly, “I just put them together on a project. If that caused their teenage hormones to blossom into a relationship, well then they were probably going to end up there anyways. I just hurried things along.”

Izuku remembered the project she had mentioned well. Their class had been split into pairs and assigned to analyze a famous hero’s costume, how it changed throughout the years, and which elements had been successful and which had been mistakes. It had been quite the long term project, requiring weeks of research and many meetings in order to analyze their findings and put them together into the final paper.

It was during one of these meetings that Mina had asked Izuku out for their first date. Apparently she had gotten tired of his many blushes and general awkwardness around girls, and had decided to confront it head on by taking him on a date. 

It hadn’t gone perfectly, but they had enjoyed themselves enough that they had gone on a second date the next week. And the one after that. When they hit nearly two months of consistent weekend dates, even Izuku had to admit what the rest of the class, as well as Mina, had known long ago. The two of them had become an item.

Since that point they had been pretty much inseparable, to the delight of the rest of their class. Or most of them, at least. Mineta still referred to Izuku as a traitor whenever he saw Izuku and Mina being affectionate.

And now, for the first time, Izuku was questioning all that. Did their relationship even count, if it had just been set up for a bet in the first place? He knew he cared for Mina deeply, and nothing was going to change that, but what if this revelation changed her feelings towards him? Would he even be able to handle the heartbreak? 

He still remembered the day that he had finally admitted to himself that he and Bakugou were no longer friends. It had torn him apart, to the point that he hadn’t been able to eat anything for almost two weeks. It had felt like the entire world would fall apart at any minute, just like his own world had shattered. 

What would it even feel like to lose Mina in the same way, to not have her constantly cracking jokes that made him snicker during class, or surprising him with hugs when he was least expecting it, or the myriad of little things that she did that made his days so much brighter. 

Before his thoughts could travel any further down that dark rabbit hole, Mina’s left hand slipped into his own and she squeezed it tightly. Slowly, so as not to give away their hiding place, her other arm came up and wrapped itself around him, turning their already tight squeeze into a full embrace. 

Then, Izuku felt a tickle on his back as Mina traced a finger across it. At first, he thought it was an idle gesture, but as it went on he realized she was tracing something onto his back. It took him a few repetitions to realize what she was writing, since he had to mentally reverse the characters, but when he finally did, he was glad that the darkness of the closet hid his burning blush. 

She was tracing the words “I love you” over and over again, her hand sure and steady with each stroke. Her calm attitude, and the assured way she continued to tell him that she cared for him no matter the circumstances that had caused them to come together in the first place helped to calm his mind. 

Slowly, his stomach began to untwist itself, and his body relaxed. He hadn’t realized how much he had tensed up just then. Or how much of the outside world he’d been tuning out.

Present Mic and Midnight had moved on from their betting on classroom relationships, and were now discussing an upcoming meeting they were both dreading. Apparently Principal Nedzu had called a surprise meeting for that weekend, and had refused to elaborate on the reasoning behind it. Apparently all their teachers were concerned about what it could be about, and were on their best behavior as a result.

It was while listening to them talk that Izuku realized the chances of Mina and him getting out of the teacher’s lounge without being seen were dropping by the second. Soon enough, it wouldn’t just be Midnight and Present Mic in the room, and if that happened, things would only get more awkward. Izuku knew he would have to explain how he had been roped into the prank, and why they had chosen to hide instead of owning up to it. He couldn’t bear to think about how All Might would look at him in such a situation.

He had already opened his mouth to announce their presence when salvation arrived in the form of one of the second years that Izuku vaguely remembered from the sports festival bursting into the teacher’s lounge.

“Professor Midnight, Himura and Mori are fighting again! They’re delaying our training, and Ectoplasm needs you to help knock them out before they break another wall.”

Midnight’s sigh was audible, even from Izuku and Mina’s hiding spot. Even still, they heard the distinctive click of her heels as she rose to her feet and prepared to break up the fight. 

“Need some backup?” Present Mic asked, “Those two can be quite the handful.”

“Couldn’t hurt,” Midnight said, “I swear, one of them is going to end up in handcuffs one of these days, and not the fun kind.”

“You said it, not me.”

Izuku let out a sigh of relief as the pair finally exited the lounge, leaving it empty except for Mina and himself. He popped out of the closet as soon as he thought the teachers were out of earshot, and stretched. After the tension, both emotional and physical, that he had been under, the stretch was exactly what he needed and it helped him hide the massive blush that was still evident on his face.

A quick tap on his shoulder caused him to turn around and face Mina, whose own face was dusted with lilac. She might be much better at showing affection than he was, but that didn’t mean she was immune to embarrassment. He imagined stating her feelings that openly had taken a lot of courage on her part, as well as a lot of trust in him.

It was the least he could do to respond in kind.

“You feeling better Izu—”

Before she could finish her question, Izuku stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Then, mustering every bit of willpower he possessed, he pressed his lips against her ear and whispered the words that were still singing in his heart.

“I love you too.”

He felt a sudden surge of heat rise off of Mina’s cheeks as she blushed furiously. She spluttered slightly, trying and failing to say something in response to his words.

For the first time since they had started dating, Izuku understood why Mina was always teasing him. Being able to render her speechless and blushing with just a few words was a heady feeling, and one he didn’t often get to experience. Occasionally he would make her blush by accident, but moments like that were few and far between. Now, though, he thought he might try and make them a bit more common. If nothing else, Mina certainly seemed happy about it.

Before they could say anything else, the lounge door opened with a bang.

Izuku leapt back from the embrace as though he had been scalded, his heart thundering with a mix of anxiety and embarrassment. They might have only been hugging, but he still felt as though he had been caught doing something naughty.

That feeling only doubled when he saw who had walked in on them. Aizawa stood in the door, the late afternoon sun behind him somehow accentuating his normally gaunt appearance until he looked like a ghost out of one of Mina’s favorite horror movies.

“Not the ‘surprise’ I was expecting,” he said flatly, glancing back and forth between Izuku and Mina.

“S-surprise, sir?” Izuku said, his already overwhelmed brain struggling to process his teacher’s words.

“Nemuri told me there was a surprise waiting for me in here. From the way she was grinning, I was sure it was something ridiculous again, not just a pair of hormonal teenagers.”

Izuku wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. He already felt lightheaded from all the excitement of the day, and it didn’t seem like things were going to be getting better anytime soon.

“You two have something you need, or can I actually get some work done?” Aizawa asked, finally stepping into the room.

Before he could get far enough inside to see his desk, Mina stepped forward to address him.

“We’re good. Midnight totally just helped us out. We’ll get going now. C’mon Izuku!”

She grabbed his arm, and started to drag him out the door. Unfortunately, she didn’t quite make it out before Aizawa spoke up.

“Ashido, you forgot this,” he said, holding up the bag of leftover tin foil that she had left lying near the window in her haste to hide.

“Oh, uh, that’s not—”

“Don’t waste my time. Take the bag, get out, and don’t try anything like this again, got it?” Aizawa said, tossing the bag to Mina.

She barely managed to catch the bag, then stared at Aizawa in confusion. “That’s… it?” she asked, obviously not quite believing this wasn’t some elaborate ruse to trick her into admitting to the prank.

“That’s it, unless you have some sort of rule transgression you’d like to confess to…?”

“Nope!” Mina said quickly, “No confessions here!”

“Thank you, sir!” Izuku called back, as Mina dragged him out of the room.

---

Shouta clicked his tongue as the two hustled out of the room, relieved that he hadn’t thrown them into a week-long detention. He had been tempted to do it, just to make an example of them so none of their classmates would get uppity and try to pull their own pranks on him.

The only reason he hadn’t was a small voice at the back of his head, one that he hadn’t heard in many, many years. It told him to relax a little, to stop being so uptight about everything and to just go with the flow.

He pulled his desk drawer open, not even bothering to remove the tin foil first, and reached into the very back to grab a yellowed and weathered picture. 

Shirakumo had snapped the picture against Aizawa’s will after dragging him along on a quest to steal every chair from the teacher’s lounge during their second year. He hadn’t succeeded, of course. Eventually someone had noticed the cloud filled with office chairs floating outside the teacher’s lounge and had reported them. 

The principal, Nedzu’s predecessor, had given them both week long detentions, staggered so they wouldn’t be able to pass the time with each other. Aizawa had never admitted it, but those two weeks had been some of the longest in his life. Even if Shirakumo had been the biggest pain in his ass after Mic, Shouta had still missed their interactions.

During one of those detention sessions, Shirakumo had decided on where he was going to train for his work study, as he had proudly proclaimed when he and Shouta had finally been reunited. Apparently time to think had given him the inspiration he needed.

Shouta had always wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t gone along with the prank. Maybe things would have been different, and Shirakumo would still be there. Or maybe he would have sacrificed himself somewhere else, like the brave idiot he had been.

Shouta stared at the picture, and a small smile crept across his face. Painful as the memories of Shirakumo were, he still remembered how bright the constant jokes and pranks had made his life.

“Why did I put up with you?” he whispered, already lost in recollections of a better time.

#izumina #midoriya izuku #mina ashido #izumina week 2020 #izuminaweek2020 #day four #why do i put up with you #dekumina #minadeku #fanfiction #mha #my hero academia #bnha #bnha fanfiction

[vintagevalentinex]

Wings

This has been a labor of love.  It is the longest story that I have written to date and I have to say I’m quite proud of it.  I have had this Cas/Reader story in my head for such a long time and I’m so happy that I was finally able to get it out.

Please let me know what you think!

Tags under the cut at the bottom! :)

Title: Wings Author: vintagevalentinexx Words: ~4775 Pairing: (Castiel x Reader) Warnings: Major FLUFF. Brief mention of torture/violence.  Brief angst.

Wing /wɪŋ/ noun: Any of a number of specialized paired appendages that enable some animals to fly, in particular.

You never really took into consideration how important some things were until they were gone, or even became damaged.  You could remember when you were eleven years old when you broke your arm.  You had to wear that stupid pink cast and that sling for nearly a month.  It was difficult getting dressed, bathing, eating, and you had to rely on other people for nearly everything.  Being the precocious, independent youngster that you were, it was difficult having to lean on other people to get things accomplished.  It was then that you realized how some parts of your body are like extensions of yourself (literally).  While by the end of the month you were figuring out how to get things done without the aid of one of your arms, you were certainly grateful to finally get the cast off.  That memory had stuck with you though.  It made you not take anything for granted, and it gave you compassion toward other people who may be going through a rough time.  

Which is why you could understand why Castiel was so upset and self-conscious about his wings.

You remember the first time you saw his wings.  He was a solider of Heaven; fierce and powerful and you watched with awe as he smote demon after demon as you lay incapacitated on the ground.  Your vision went in and out, but you could have sworn you saw a magnificent shadow, shaped in the form of wings, the span of which you had never seen before in any kind of animal.  As you lay bleeding out you saw bursts of light, the shadow of wings continuing to flicker against any wall they faced.  When it was finally over, you thought for a moment that you were going to pass on, but Castiel’s glowing blue eyes kept you awake, always in a trance-like state as he bent down, his gaze softening as he pressed two fingers to your forehead, murmuring something about trying to relax.

When you woke you were greeted by those same beautiful blue eyes, albeit not glowing now.  He was staring at you worriedly, his face showing signs of relief as you finally came to.

“You lost so much blood, (Y/N).”

“I…I’m…sorry?”

He looked at you bewildered, his lips forming into a small, shy smile.  “You are such a fascinating creature.”  With that, you heard the all too familiar flutter of wings as he left, a dopey smile on your face, visions of blue eyes unable to fade out of your mind as you fell back asleep.

It was a long time later when you were gifted with the opportunity of seeing Castiel’s wings again.  You were fighting side by side, something that was happening more frequently while Sam and Dean tried to find a cure for the Mark of Cain.  Castiel would take you on excursions to question rogue angels, trying to figure out where Metatron was hiding.  If there was anyone who knew, it might be him.  The both of you were nearly inseparable during that time.  You had watched him go through everything—losing his grace, being kicked out of the Bunker, learning about his “extracurricular” affair with April (which for some reason really rubbed you the wrong way), watching Dean turn into a demon, and finding the rest of his grace.  You had seen the toll all of these ordeals had done on him.  The once curious, awkward angel was now weary and jaded; the wonderment he once had about the world was gone.

Naturally this broke your heart.  You had longed for the shy smiles the angel seemed to save for only you, and you missed teaching him about the subtleties of human existence.  You wanted to speak up, but you found yourself having a difficult time knowing what to even say to Cas.  Hey buddy, why so glum?  Hey there pal, I’ve noticed you’re not as awkwardly adorable as you used to be.  Yeah…that’s definitely not going to work.

You sighed, your mind shifting back to the fight you were currently in, Castiel by your side as you fought more demons.  You were thrown against a wall, crumbling into yourself as you saw the bright light again that you saw so very long ago.  You shielded your eyes, not wanting your eyeballs to melt out of your face, waiting for the blinding light to die down.  Finally you were away to uncover your face, seeing the faintest shadow of his wings.  You heard a gasp, realizing moments later that you were the person who made this noise, seeing the condition of his wings.  Several feathers were missing and currently falling off, the shadows of them fading into nothingness as they hit the ground.  You bit your lip, your heart sinking at how Castiel’s wings looked now.  He had been through so very much and it must have been tiring on his vessel and his grace.  You wondered if there were things that could not be healed by grace.

The flutter of wings signaled Castiel’s presence in front of you as he bent down.  You could see him staring tenderly at you.  “(Y/N)…I am sorry that you are always getting hurt while I’m around…I wish…I wish I could protect you better.”

You tried to smile, feeling his warm fingers going to your forehead, the pain and aches of the fight quickly dissipating.   “It’s okay, Cas…it’s part of the job.”  You put a hand on his bicep, feeling the muscle through his trenchcoat.  “I…I need to tell you something Cas.”

He looked at you inquisitively, tilting his head as he helped you up.  “What is the matter, (Y/N)?”

You fought to meet his eyes, nervous, hoping he wouldn’t be upset with you.  “Well…one of the first time we fought together…I saw your wings…and they were beautiful, enormous and they looked so powerful.”  You swallowed, trying to not look at his face, knowing there would be sorrow etched into his features.  “I saw them again today…they…they looked quite different.”

Castiel looked at you through his eyelashes, unspeaking, nodding as you continued.  “They were so different today.  Your wings…they looked damaged.”

“I have sacrificed many things for the betterment of humans, (Y/N).”

“I know you have, but at what cost, Cas?  What would I…er…we do without you around?  You are so very important.”

“I am but a soldier of Heaven…”

“You are one of us.  You are special to me, Cas.  And we need to get you better.  Please…please let me help you heal.”

You made it your personal mission to help him heal.

“I do not understand this at all, (Y/N)…”

You laughed as you plopped down on Sam’s bed, the only room in the Bunker that had Netflix.  That was something you’d definitely have to work on.  You continued to giggle as you watch Castiel try and sit on the bed in his trench coat, shoes still on.  You quirked an eyebrow.

“Seriously, Cas?  Shoes?  Your coat?  Both of them off.  Now.”

“I…but why?”

“Because…” you started, “if Sam finds out I let you sit on his bed with your shoes on, he will never let me watch Netflix again!  Now c’mon!”

You could have sworn you saw him roll his eyes as he finally plopped down next to you, smirking a little as you swayed on the bed from the force of him.  You clicked the TV on with the remote, the dim glow of the screen illuminating the room.

“Would you please explain to me again why this is necessary?”

You sighed, scrolling through the movies and shows on the home screen of Netflix, trying to find something you think that Castiel would like.  “It’s very necessary.  You need to heal.  You are so far done that you can’t heal yourself and you can’t even fly anywhere.  The ordeals you have been through have been very taxing on you, Cas…”

“Yes, I understand that, but why is this…” He motioned to the television, “needed?  Can’t I just lie here?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes.  “Technically no.  But it can be rather enjoyable!  All of these different movies on here all tell different stories of the human experience.  Some are sad, some are angry, some are absolutely hilarious.  The point is that you can step outside of yourself and focus on these stories instead of what you have going on.  It’s nice sometimes to be able to put it off for a while sometimes.”

Castiel nodded, smiling the small, shy smile you have started to adore as he stared intently at the screen, his smile growing larger as you click on a documentary about bees.  You slyly glanced at him, smiling at him fondly, his eyes excited as he watched the screen.  What an adorable dork.

You couldn’t see it, but in the shadows of the room, Castiel’s wings twitched, less feathers fell from them as they started to subtly glitter and dance against the shadows.

“Just humor me.”

You sat in the library of the Bunker with Castiel, swinging your legs as you sat in a chair, nursing a mug of hot chocolate.  You pouted up at him, trying to give him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster, taking another sip of your hot chocolate, unbeknownst to you, a bit of whipped cream resting on your upper lip.

Castiel chuckled as watched you.  As he stepped closer he bent down, taking a thumb to gently wipe your upper lip.  “You had something on your face.  (Y/N)…are you well?  You feel so warm?”

He tilted his head as he looked at you.  You pulled away from him harshly, trying to completely not look like a mess as he touched you.  “I’m…I’m fine, Cas.  It’s just the heat from the hot chocolate!”

He seemed to accept that as an answer as he finally took a seat next to you, a mug that was meant for him.  “What am I supposed to do with this, again?”

You beamed.  “You’re supposed to drink it!  It tastes so good!  Chocolate is amazing!”  You giggled as you watched him eye the steaming mug suspiciously.

“When I consume anything, I can only taste the molecules, (Y/N).  As ‘amazing’ as your hot chocolate sounds, I will not be able to taste it.”

You looked at him sheepishly, hanging your head as you realize your mistake.  “Oh, right.  I’m sorry, Cas.  I should have realized.  That was really stupid of me.”  You chewed on your lip; picking at your fingernails as you looked down, feeling terrible.  You just wanted to make him happy and try to cheer him up a little bit.  

Your head snapped up as you heard the scrape of a chair moving closer to yours.  His chair was butted right alongside yours, armrests flush with each other.  Cas picked up your mug from the table, handing it back to you.  “Please don’t apologize, (Y/N).  Maybe it will taste like something.  I should not have said anything until I tried it.”

Smiling, you took your mug, clanking it with Castiel’s as you both took a sip out of your respectful mugs, you smiling, your face scrunching up as you tasted the warm hot chocolate; Castiel’s’ face scrunching up in disgust as he sipped.

“This is still terrible.”

You giggled softly, shifting as you leaned your head on his shoulder, your toes wiggling in your thick woolen socks as you enjoyed the quiet with Castiel.

Just out of your line of sight, Castiel’s wings were unfurled, yet still fairly barren.  Despite this, his wings did not shed a single feather now, yet still hung rather limp.

Of course the heat wasn’t working properly in the Bunker.  That seemed to be right on par with the day you were having.  You stubbed your toe nearly as soon as you stepped out of your bed this morning, you shrunk your favorite t-shirt in the wash, there wasn’t any coffee left, and Dean ate all the damn pop tarts.  You huffed as you nestled yourself down on the couch, cocooning yourself in several blankets, getting comfy.  You turned on the tv, trying to keep warm.  Hopefully the boys would be back soon to fix the damn furnace.

Unbeknownst to you, Castiel had popped into the Bunker to check up on you, find you fast asleep on the couch.  He smiled softly as he watching you for a while, bundled up in all the blankets.  He watched you for a little while longer, a frown etching onto his mouth as he realized you were still shivering under all of those blankets.  He crouched down, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand, trying to rouse you from sleep.

“(Y/N)…(Y/N)…please wake up…” You shifted, your eyes fluttering open slowly to be met by the most beautiful blue ones you had ever had the pleasure to see.  A smile crept its way onto your lips as you groggily answered him.

“Hey, Cas.  Everything okay?”

His eyebrows furrowed as he continued to watch you shiver.  “You are cold, (Y/N).”

You smiled self-consciously at him, averting your eyes.  “Yeah…the heating seems to be on the fritz so I’ve been trying to stay warm…”

Before you could even speak Castiel was moving around the blankets to get into them next to you, not realizing that you were a blushing mess.  It was enough to make you blush to just be near to him, but cuddling under blankets was probably going to kill you.

“Your heart is beating rather fast, (Y/N).  Perhaps I should move closer to try and give you some of this vessel’s warmth.”

You couldn’t even speak as you felt him wrap an arm around you, the heat in your cheeks intensifying.  The both of you sat there for a while, and you found yourself unconsciously moving closer to him as the warmth from his body seeped into yours.  You found yourself dozing off, your head finally lulling onto his shoulder.  Castiel smiles down at you, giving you a firm squeeze as he aimlessly watches whatever is on the television.

He doesn’t know it, but the limpness in his wings is significantly less now, returning to the strength they once were.  The shadows of his wings trembled in the shadows against the walls, the light from the television creating beautiful shapes against the shadows of his wings.

“It is merely a visible mass of condensed water vapor floating in the atmosphere.  I don’t see what is so important about that.”

You sighed, flopping over onto your side, leaning up on an elbow to stare at the angel.  It was a beautiful spring day, and while the sky wasn’t completely cloudless, the beautiful puffy, tufts of white crawling their way through the sky.  Although you had seen many beautiful days, it was nice to be able to spend a moment alone with Castiel.

Castiel.

If anyone reminded you of a beautiful, blue, sunny day, it was him.  You were currently trying your best to not stare for too long at him; he was more observant than he let most people realize.  When he smiled, actually, genuinely smiled, it was as if the sun was warming your skin, the heat intensifying when that smile was directed your way.  His eyes were more captivating that anything you had ever gazed upon; the most beautiful shade of blue that you could ever imagine.  You found yourself growing fonder of him as the days passed and as you spent more and more time with the angel.  He was becoming a facet in your life; a piece of your heart that you did not want to give up.

“(Y/N)…(Y/N)…is something wrong with my face?  Are you alright?”

You jerked your head, your nose colliding with Castiel’s forehead; apparently he was much closer now, but you would know that if you weren’t daydreaming.  Your hand immediately went to your face, the crunch of the blow making your eyes water, trying to keep composure.  Castiel was immediately pulling you up, making you move your hand, his eyes full of concern.  He pressed two fingers to your forehead, the warm of his grace flowing through you, healing your nose as if nothing had ever happened.  He held you by your shoulders, leaning in close.

“Please forgive me, (Y/N).  I am so very sorry that I hurt you…I would never want to hurt you.”

You smiled, wiggling your nose.  “See…it’s as good as new.  I promise I’m not mad…”

Castiel continued to look at you like a scolded puppy and you couldn’t help but giggle, his concern for you warming your heart.

“I tell you what.  If you can tell me what that cloud looks like we can call it even.” He rolled his eyes, still not understanding why you would want to do such a trivial thing.  He plopped back down on the ground, taking you with him at his side.  His eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought, turning his head to pout at you as you giggled softly at his ‘thinking face’.

“That one there…it seems to resemble the shape of a bee…”

Castiel smiled at you, your lips moving of their own accord to match his grin.  The both of you laid there until the sun hung low in the sky, your eyes growing heavy as you fell into a comfortable, warm sleep.  Castiel brushed the hair out of your face, pressing the softest whisper of a kiss at your hairline, smiling down at you.

You snuggled closer to the warmth of him, the warm spring wind blowing gently, caressing your skin.  Little did you know that Castiel’s wings were flexing and flapping gently, stretching the muscles, creating the breeze you felt.  Feathers no longer fell from his wings.  New fluffy, downy feathers grew in the empty spaces, maturing into the longer, outer layer that so desperately needed to be replaced.

The power had gone out in the Bunker.  Well…not really, but you had turned out all of the lights, your flashlight leading Castiel and you through the hallways.

“(Y/N)…now you’re really confusing me.  This seems extremely unnecessary.  Can’t we just turn all the lights back on and get on with our lives?”

All you did was grin at him as you dragged him to your room, flashlights and candles flicking in the space.  You could see Castiel smiling fondly at your work, his lips curling up into a warm smile as he looked at your creation in the center of the room.  “Did you collect all of the blankets and pillows in the Bunker to create that…umm…”

“Fort.  It’s a fort, Cas.  It’s a blanket fort!  C’mon!”

You dragged him under and into the fort, where more lights and candles illuminated it (good thing you had an angel with you for assistance if you started a fire with all these candles).  After the both of you got settled amongst the blankets and pillows, you set your flashlight aside, the soft light illuminating both of your faces.  You shuffled closer to Castiel, sitting shoulder to shoulder as you wiggled your sock-clad toes.

“Tell me something about yourself, Cas.”

He looked at you confused.  “I don’t understand…”

You smiled, “I want to know more about you, the things you like, what you were like when you were younger…wait…were you ever younger?  Were angels ever babies?!  Please tell me there are such things as angel babies!!”

Castiel openly laughed, noting the flush in your cheeks as his hand “accidentally” brushed against yours.

“I think I understand what you mean now, (Y/N).  Perhaps you should go first.”

You nodded, pondering about what you wanted to tell him.  “Well…when I was little I always used to love camping in the backyard when it was warm enough.  One summer, it seemed to rain every night so I wasn’t able to spend the night outside.  My parents had the amazing idea to create a blanket fort inside so we could spend the night camping in the house.  We gathered up all the blankets and pillows in the house and made the most amazing fort ever.  We stayed up all night telling stories to each other.  It’s the fondest memory I have of them.”

Castiel smiled, taking your hand into his, giving it a firm squeeze.  “Thank you for sharing that with me.  It’s a beautiful memory.”

You smiled back at him, your hand still firmly planted in his.  “Alright, it’s your turn.”

Castiel let go of your hand, causing you to pout momentarily, your frown quickly being replaced with a shy smile as his arm found its way around your shoulders, pulling you into his side, engulfing you in his warmth.

“When the Earth was new, I enjoyed the time when the animals and all of the creatures were being created.  I was marveled at how each creature is such a masterpiece.  God even let some of the angels help create some of the animals…the platypus for example…one of Gabriel’s creations…”

“No way…you’re making this up!”  You laughed, your head finding its way onto his shoulder.  

He chuckled.  “He also had a lot of input on the giraffe…”  He paused for a moment, turning his head to smile down at you on his shoulder.

“But my fondest memory…that would be…that would have to be several things, (Y/N).  I suppose it could be summed up as one thing, though.  The first time I saw you smile is probably the fondest memory that I have in all of my years…”

You looked up at him, steeling yourself as you bent upward, pressing your lips to his.  The kiss wasn’t overly passionate; it was sweet, and it spoke volumes for you, everything you wanted to say to him at that moment but were unable to say.

The empty spaces on Castiel’s wings were completed filled in now, the strength slowly but surely still coming back to them.  They started to unfurl much more effectively.

“Can you please explain this to me again?”

You pumped your legs as you glided through the air, swinging back and forth on the swing set, the breeze blowing through your hair.  You grinned at you turned your head, watching him move his legs, and unsuccessfully swing.  Hopping off of the swing mid-air, you made your way over to Castiel’s swing, standing behind him.

“You need to push yourself off first to get the momentum going, Cas.”

“I do not understand.”

“Here, lift your feet off the ground…”

You grabbed the chains, pulling the swing back as the bewildered angel looked back at you.  You let go of the chain, pushing him forward.  “Go ahead now, Cas.  Move your legs!”

You watched on as he pumped his legs like you showed him, the swing going higher and higher.  Hopping back on your own swing, you went back to the wonderful task of flying through the air on your swing, completely oblivious to whatever Castiel was doing.  You continued on for a while before all of a sudden your swing stopped abruptly, your back met with a solid wall of muscle.  You let out an audible “oof” as you craned your neck around to look up at Castiel.  “What are you doing, Cas?”

“Something I should have done a long time ago.”

He moved around, now facing you as he grabbed the chains of your swing, he pulled you forward, pulling you up to him as his lips finally found yours, kissing you like you had wanted him to for such a long time.  Your hands found their way to his face, cupping his cheeks, completely trusting in the fact that his angelic strength would keep you locked in that position for as long as Castiel so desired.  

There was now a shimmer to Castiel’s wings, as if his grace was pumping through them.  Their strength was just about back to full power; nearly completely healed.

This night could not have been any more perfect.  You were alone with Castiel; the both of you had the motel room to yourselves for the night while Sam and Dean did some reconnaissance of a warehouse where they believed a nest of vampires were staying.  Castiel held you in his arms, swaying the both of you to the faint music on the radio.  You snuggled into his chest, letting him move you to the music, breathing him in.  You murmured softly, “I can’t remember a time where I was ever so happy, Cas.  You are so incredibly important to me and I feel so deeply for you.”

Castiel halted your movements, taking both of your hands into his own, pressing them to his lips.  

“Ever since I’ve been with the Winchesters, I have felt as though I have straddled both Heaven and Earth; no longer belonging to either place.  It has been a feeling I have been struggling with for years.  Spending this time with you has taught me that although I do not belong to either place, all I need is to belong to you, and that keeps me sated.  I feel whole because you feel like home.”

You looked up at him, tears welling up in your eyes as you reached up to kiss him, putting everything that you are into his lips, your arms wrapping around him, your body pressed flushed against his.  “Cas…I don’t even know what to say right now…”

“Then don’t.  Just feel with me.  Be at home with me, (Y/N).”

Castiel’s wings, now fully healed wrapped around you, shielding you from potential dangers and keep you close to him.  You couldn’t see them, but it was as though you felt a blanket of comfort and warmth draped around you.

That was the most important, most beautiful memory you had.  They say when you are about to die, your most important memories replay in your mind.  Your mind kept showing you memories of the time you had spent with Castiel everything from simple little moments, up until the moment you knew that the both of you loved each other.

The demons tortured you relentlessly, trying to get a location of the Winchesters out of you.  Naturally you didn’t tell them a single thing, which obviously pissed them off.  They beat you down, leaving you within mere moments of death, your vision blurring, fingers growing cold.  All you could think of was Castiel, his blue eyes burned into your memory.  

As if out of nowhere, a near-blinding white light filled the room in which you were being held, the force of it almost painful.  You struggled to close your eyes, worried that you may not be able to open them again.  You could see the magnificent form of wings, full and lush, against one of the back walls.  It took a while for your eyes to focus, but as they do, you see blue, nearly crying as you see the beautiful eyes of your lover.

Without a word he smites them all, quickly coming to your aid, his gaze becoming pained as he takes in your pitiful state.  His voice is strained as he speaks.  “Please forgive me for not getting here sooner…”

Castiel pressed his lips to your forehead, his grace flowing into you, healing you, bringing you back from the brink of death.  He literally kissed away your wounds, gathering you up into his arms.  You looked up at him, your beautiful, brave, selfless angel and you smiled, feeling so very grateful that you did not have to part with him yet; you were blessed with more time with him, precious time that you would never take for granted.

“I love you, Castiel.”

“There is nothing more precious to me in the entirety of existence than you, (Y/N).  ‘I love you’ does not have enough depth to describe what I feel for you.”

You smiled, arms wrapping around his neck.  “I saw them, you know.  Your wings…well at least what my eyes would allow me to see.  They looked amazing!  When I first saw them, they were…well…nearly bare.  But now…they are glorious!”

He smiled down at you thoughtfully.  “Yes, they are completely healed.  I never imagined that they would be returned to their unblemished state, knowing the condition that they were in.  However, it seems that spending time with you has healed them, healed me.  I will spend the rest of eternity taking care of you.  But first…I think we will need to make sure you are completely healed.”

You kissed him, feeling content, knowing that you were finally home as well.

@abaddonwithyall @bovaria @icecream-and-gadreel @bkwrm523 @aprofoundbondwithdean @for-the-love-of-dean @castielspahdehrah @spnashley @spnfanficpond @orlislilypad @oriona75 @blushingsamgirl @kittenofdoomage @nebulanoxx @mrswhozeewhatsis @but-deans-back-tho @ilostmyshoe-79 @mysupernaturalfics @manawhaat @deans-colette @thegleegeneration @pada-ackles @sis-tafics @theerinpage @ohfora67impala @fulldisclosureash

I tried to tag everyone I could think of!

#spn #castiel #castiel x reader #castiel/reader #repost #new blog #one of my favorite pieces

[starksnack]

📚 + winteriron + puppies ?

A Paw-fect Family // WinterIron // 2k // Read it on AO3

Tony is laying across Bucky’s lap with his tablet, trying to work up the energy to get up and go out on a date rather than give in to the lure of going back to bed when Steve rushes into the penthouse living room with a frantic look on his face. Tony jolts up immediately, shaking the spots out of his vision as Bucky tenses behind him; neither of them heard a call to assemble.

“Are you guys busy? I need someone for PR.” Steve’s blue eyes are wide and desperate as he begs them to volunteer at the animal shelter for a couple of hours. Apparently, Steve had told the shelter he would send a couple of Avengers over but had totally forgotten to tell the aforementioned Avengers that. Tony and Bucky were the only two currently in the tower, the spy twins were away on mission and Thor and Bruce out of the country making the world a better place. 

Tony nods, it isn’t a big hardship to agree. Tony had just been planning on a walk through Central Park and maybe some hot dogs, this would be pretty much the same thing considering Bucky always stopped to pet every dog he saw.

Together, Tony and Bucky dress between kisses in their softest sweaters, Tony likes that it gives him an excuse to run his fingers across Bucky’s delicious biceps. Their sweaters are in different shades of blue because Bucky thinks it’s hilarious when they are colour coordinated. Tony laughs and rolls his eyes at his partner even though he secretly loves it when they match.

The sun is just barely dipping in the sky when they wave Steve goodbye and set off in the chilly spring air. Tony tucks himself in Bucky’s side, lacing their fingers together as he absorbs the super soldier’s warmth. Their steps are perfectly coordinated as Bucky pulls him in closer, pressing a kiss to Tony’s curls. Bucky’s thumb is rubbing absentmindedly over his fingers and Tony falls in love with him a little more which each soft stroke.

It’s a beautiful day and Tony is glad they had opted to walk to the animal shelter rather than taking a taxi. It’s a rare evening where the city of New York seems to be in a good mood, less honking giving way to the titter of pigeons perched on storefront awnings as they pass. They don’t even get run over as they jaywalk across the street.

Bucky points out a couple of pretty birds, his grey eyes glittering in excitement as he watches them flap across the clear blue sky. The gentle wind blows budding trees, and small baby squirrels play across the sidewalk as they head toward the animal shelter.

It’s not a long walk and before long they are checking in with a star-struck employee who can’t seem to look away from them. Tony grins, he’s used to it, but Bucky is blushing something adorable as he signs his name across the volunteer forms. Rubbing a gentle hand up and down his partner’s back, Tony leads him toward the animals.

The employee, and Tony really needs to learn her name though he honestly can’t be bothered, unlocks a couple of cages for them. A cute, chocolate-coloured puppy rolls out of the first one, blinking up at Tony before bounding over, tripping over his gangly paws and sliding across the tiled floor. He’s a mixed breed, his fur a coloured canvas of white and brown as blue eyes study the two of them curiously. His tongue lolls out of his mouth and Bucky laughs, reaching down to scratch the puppy under the chin. He receives a couple of sloppy kisses in response and he picks the puppy up, cuddling him to his chest.

The next cage that opens lets out an older dog, a cocker spaniel that tilts her head at Tony with a happy bark. She noses at the smaller puppy, tail wagging as she tips her head up to lick at Bucky’s outstretched fingers. The puppy is not too happy, jumping on the spaniel and the two of them go rolling, playfully nipping at each other.

Bucky turns to look at Tony, eyes bright as he reaches for a third dog, a bumbling dachshund who snuffles at Bucky’s sweatshirt before trying to burrow under it.  He frowns when he sees that Tony’s not playing with a puppy of his own, his hands pressed into his lap as the other two puppies roll near him, barking and nipping playfully at each other.

“Hey Helen?” Bucky asks, and the employee-- so her name is Helen-- turns around from where she’s looking through the other cages, twirling the key around her finger. “Do you have any cuddly puppies? Less energetic.” Bucky turns to Tony with a grin. “I know you love a good cuddle, dear.”

Tony blushes in response, refusing to look at Helen as he glares Bucky down. His face says he won’t be receiving any Tony cuddles later tonight but Bucky knows better, knows that Tony is an octopus and will be on his side of the bed before he’s asleep. Tony needs a dog that loves a good snuggle too.

And that’s how Tony ends up with a beautiful golden retriever in his arms, tongue lolling happily out of her mouth as she snuggles up against the warmth of Tony’s body, occasionally licking across his jaw. He’s gently rubbing her soft ears, marvelling as how calm she is in his arms as she blinks up at him with another lap of her tongue against his chin. Tony kisses her forehead and she barks happily in response, nosing into Tony’s neck and slobbering on his sweater.

She’s a beauty, almost as big as Tony and soft long fur that Bucky kind of wants to braid to be perfectly honest. He can tell that Tony’s already in love with her and if Bucky knows anything, he probably wants to take her home with them. Tony was never one for the dogs in the park, but this one seems to have all of his attention.

Bucky picks up the first puppy, giving Tony time with the golden. The puppy looks up at him, his earlier romp with the cocker spaniel completely forgotten as he looks up at Bucky with huge pleading eyes. With a wide smile, Bucky snuggles closer to the pup, smoothing his fingers through his soft hair with a wide smile. He’s quite the cutie and his fur colouring reminds Bucky of the sepia tones his childhood memories are painted in.

Tony leans in toward him, his head on Bucky’s shoulder even though his attention is focused on the dog in his arms. The puppy cuddling with Bucky turns to look at the retriever, tail wagging excitedly as he licks across her ears. She looks surprised before returning the favour with a light yip.

“Can we take her home?” Tony asks burying his nose in the retriever’s soft fur. The dog woofs curling to press closer to Tony. Bucky knows he couldn’t separate them if he tried and they’re so adorable together that he wouldn’t ever try to. He knows immediately that they’re going to be going home tonight with a couple new family members.

Bucky laughs, leaning over the dog’s head to press a kiss to Tony’s cheek. “It’s your tower, sweetheart. If you want a dog, just adopt her. You know Stevie would help out and Clint is practically a dog himself. She’ll be right at home.”

Tony laughs, scratching underneath the retriever’s chin. Helen appears at his side to hand him the information sheet for the dog in his arms and Tony flips through it as the retriever paws at his sweater excitedly. With his free hand, Tony scratches under her chin to calm her down.

“Her name is Fish,” Tony reads, a wide grin spreading across his face as she barks in affirmation. He looks down at her with a wide grin, pressing another kiss to her fluffy hair. “It says here that she’s up to date on all her vaccinations and she’s house trained.” Tony scratches her head, with a laugh. “You’re a good girl aren’t you? Absolutely perfect.”

Fish lays across Tony’s legs, her tail wagging as she looks up at Tony. Bucky knows he can’t resist, and Helen seems to be able to tell cause she’s already holding the adoption papers in her hands, a warm smile on her face. 

Tony accepts the papers and digs his hand into his pocket pulling out his phone and opening up his connection to Jarvis. “Hey buddy you there?” Jarvis answers affirmatively because he’s always there for Tony and the genius grins. “Can you put in an order for everything we need for a new pet? Read whatever books you can find on dogs and get us the works. Read the reviews, order the best, the usual.” Tony looks at Bucky and then at the cuddly puppy in his arms. He turns back to Jarvis. “We’re going to need enough for two dogs, please.”

“Thank you!” Bucky wraps an arm around Tony’s middle pressing a soft, sweet kiss to his lips that’s too quick to really be satisfying. Bucky tastes like vanilla and americano and Tony resists the urge to lick into his mouth. He’s pretty sure Helen is still in the room and he doesn’t want to scar her for life. “Thank you Tony.”

“Anything for you,” Tony mumbles against his lips, moving to press kisses across his jaw before slotting their lips together again, Fish pressing her paws into Bucky’s chest before licking across his neck with an excited yip.

Pulling away, Tony brushes a stray lock of Bucky’s hair behind his ear, cupping his face. Bucky’s grey eyes are delighted and sparkling in the most beautiful way and Tony can feel the corners of his eyes crinkling as he grins in response. He knows these dogs will feel every ounce of love the two of them and the rest of the team have to offer. Bucky has such a big heart, always has. “I love you so much.”

Bucky tucks his head into Tony’s neck, turning his head to press a quick kiss to his shoulder. The puppy he’s holding barks excitedly between them and Fish yips in response, licking across his fur. Bucky laughs, happy that they’ve gotten to be such quick friends. He looks up at his partner with a smile. “I love you too, Tony.”

When they arrive back at Avengers tower hours later and covered in dog fur, their family is up two members both with wagging tails and lolling tongues. Fish immediately makes herself at home underneath the kitchen table as Bucky’s puppy, Roman, runs circles around their teammates, barking up a storm. Steve glances up at them from his newspaper and doesn’t look the least bit surprised as he smiles at the two of them.

Most of their stuff has already arrived and Tony takes videos of their new pets as Bucky rips open the packaging, setting up their food and hanging their leashes by the elevator. There are a couple of dog beds, but Bucky already knows that Tony is going to let Fish and Roman sleep with them. He leaves the plush looking cushions in the living room anyway.

At the end of the night when Bucky and Tony are lying in bed together, exhausted but happy as Fish and Roman cuddle at the foot of their bed, Tony posts all his videos to Instagram, tagging the shelter and writing a long-winded caption about how excited he is about his new dogs. Bucky presses a kiss to Tony’s shoulder, already excited to wake up with what will most likely be a dog’s butt in his face and Tony drooling on his chest.

They manage to drum up enough good PR that all the shelters in New York manage to find loving homes for all their animals.

#winteriron #bucky barnes #tony stark #winter soldier #iron man #marvel #starksnack writes #kait celebrates #birthday celebration #ask 5 #Anonymous

[monstersandmaw]

Poodle the Gnoll... (sfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

So, @thecriticalcanuck​ has been patiently trying to get a commission off me for months for this story, and I finally had the chance to do it, so here it is.

We’ve met ‘Poodle’ before, in a snippet where he sat chatting with his friend beside a river which I can’t seem to find any more :( , and in a series of asks/idea-bouncing sessions which you can read by following the 'fluffy gnoll’ tag linked.

This story features a male gnoll, nicknamed ‘Poodle’, who ranks absolutely at the bottom of his clan because of his ridiculously fluffy coat. Humans coo over him, gnolls laugh at him and abuse him, and he has only one friend in the whole world, a mid-ranking female gnoll.

I used my previous headcanons about gnolls and their society for this one (based off hyena society), in case anyone’s curious about the social dynamics and roles etc.

Length: 3337 words Content: bullying and abuse, both verbal and physical, young orphaned child, angst, and, well, fluff.

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

“Oi, Poodle!”

The shout rang out but he barely had time to flinch before a pail of freezing river muck was upended over his head. The fur, which had been standing wildly on end in the stiff wind blasting across the hunting plains, became plastered to his head in seconds, and the yipping, wheezing laughter of the other gnolls carried a long way across the whispering grasses. The commotion drew a small crowd, and his heart sank. Here we go again.  

He cursed as the foul slime dripped down his face and into his bright, golden eyes.  

“That’s hilarious! Look at him!” one of them snickered, shoving the distracted, muddy gnoll over so that he landed hard on his hip, causing more laughter.

“Hey, you could use all that shit to style that fluff of yours, Poodle,” another sneered. “Give yourself a nice quiff or something!”

“Yeah, slick it back off your face. Show all the girls those pretty eyes…”

“Or don’t! Who’d want to look at you?”

The group of four females and one male paced and circled around him as though he were a wounded satyr as he rubbed the mud from his face. He bit back the habitual hurt that blossomed in his chest at their words.  

He was used to it.  

He’d always had a coat that was three times thicker and fluffier than any other gnoll, and, being a male, he ranked lower than any female in the clan, and because of his looks, he fell below all of the other males. It didn’t matter that he was damned handy with a war axe. Outside of a raiding party, he was bottom of the pile, and even during a fight he ranked pretty low.  

“Get up,” a harsh female voice snapped, and as she joined the hooting and guffawing gnolls, she cuffed him around the ear so hard he saw stars. “For fuck’s sake, look at you. Go and bathe. We have to go into town and I won’t have you stinking like the back end of a minotaur.”

He sighed. “Yes mother.”

“‘Yes mother’,” the others all parroted, still snickering.  

The high-ranking female only shook her head in disgust at the sight of her son and stalked away as he pushed himself up onto his hind legs and shuffled off towards the winding, fast-flowing brook to wash himself off. And of course, the torment didn’t end with that single bucket of sludge.  

Herah and her best friend, Zila, were apparently not satisfied with simply messing up his coat, and followed him down to the freezing water. He was struggling to rinse the disgusting slime out of his thick fur as they trotted the last few yards over to him and pounced on him while he had his head under.  

“Wash it out well and good, Poodle,” Herah snarled in his ear as she yanked him back up, sputtering and coughing.  

“No one’s going to groom you, Poodle. But we’re gracious females. We’ll offer our help…” Zila added, placing her paw-like hand on the top of his head and dunking him again.  

Water rushed into his open mouth and he began to cough and struggle, but Herah was huge. As the daughter of the clan’s lead female, she was built for brute strength, and there was no arguing with her. She and Zila were his chief tormentors.  

Beneath all the fur, he was a lithe, muscular gnoll, and might even have been an attractive prospect for one of the females, but because of his stupid pelt, he’d never attracted anything but derision and ridicule from the females, save for one.  

Herah and Zila soon grew bored with ‘washing their little puppy’ and had left him, bedraggled and gasping on the riverbank. By the time his thick, wet fur dried off, he’d be even fluffier than he had been before all this started, and from the howls and shrieks of laughter and the looks on the bullies’ faces as he approached to the camp, that had been their plan all along.  

Kira trotted over to him just as he returned, somewhat shakily, to the encampment and gave him an affectionate noogie on the top of his head. She was taller than him, but not by much. “What’s up?” she said. “What happened?”

He shrugged. “The usual.”

“You get ‘Poodled’ again?” she asked, ears flicking softly.  

He nodded.  

“Come on, a group of us is going into town. Your mum has some things she wants to trade, and I want to talk to the blacksmith to see if I can get a new axe. You want to come with me?”

“Mother says I have to come anyway. Normally she shuts me away in her tent when she has to go, so I don’t know why I’m coming along this time. Maybe she thinks a bit of light relief among the clan while the humans coo over me will be good for morale…”

Kira punched him on the arm. “Don’t let them get to you.”

“Easy for you to say,” he snarled, lifting his lip slightly in a gesture that would never have been tolerated amongst the other females. His best - and only - friend merely laughed and slung an arm around him, nuzzling her wet, blunt nose into his ear and eliciting a high, silly laugh from him in response.  

As he’d predicted, the harsh prairie winds whipped his soft fur up into a mass of dandelion fluff by the time the small contingent arrived at the nearest town. Ordinarily, the arrival of eight or so gnolls at a human settlement would have sparked panic, but this clan was known here, and had agreed not to raid the inhabitants, in exchange for the right to trade and some degree of protection for them from other neighbouring clans.  

The two friends followed the rest of the group into the backwater town, and while his mother and a few of the other high ranking females took themselves off to barter for better weapons from the blacksmith, the pair waited by the fountain at the centre of the town. Hierarchy was everything, and, whether at war or trade, the elite got the first pick of everything.  

Lingering in the shadows, two females were watching him and occasionally yipping and laughing. He kept one large, rounded ear locked onto them, listening as they gossipped amongst themselves.  

“They’re doing it again,” he muttered softly to Zila out of the side of his mouth.

“What?”

“Herah and Zila… they’re making bets on how long it’ll take for a human to coo at me.”

“Oh fuck them,” she growled, but no sooner had she said it than a pair of human women began pointing at him and covering their mouths in a poorly veiled attempt at hiding their giggles.  

He flicked a piece of gravel into the well and turned away.  

As he turned, he caught sight of a human girl in a ragged, faded dress, with bare feet and dirty hair. Something lurched in his chest at the sight of someone so vulnerable wandering around on her own. The other gnolls spotted her a second later.  

They dropped to all fours and began to whoop and yip as they advanced. He didn’t think they’d actually hurt her, but the look on her face told him that she didn’t know that. He’d been in that girl’s position before. He knew what it felt like to have two full-grown females advancing on him, licking their teeth and laughing softly.  

Instinctively he made a step towards them but Kira grabbed his arm. “Leave it,” she warned. “It’s not worth it, and they’ll tear you to pieces. You’re not protected by the treaty; she is.”

“I don’t care,” he said, yanking his arm free. “It’s wrong. They can pick on me all they like, but she’s…” he choked a little. “She’s just a kid, Kira.”

Kira’s face softened, and he made a split second decision.  

Dropping to all fours too, he trotted over to them and circled round in front of the advancing females and behind the girl. He sat down beside her like a huge guard dog, ignoring the way it instantly demeaned himself further in their eyes, and stared straight at the females.  

Taken by surprise by his gesture of absolute defiance, they drew up short. “What’s this, Poodle?” Herah asked in a soft, dangerous drawl. He fought off a shudder of fear.  

The little girl heard the nickname, however, and giggled, all fear forgotten. “Poodle!” she exclaimed and grabbed hold of his arm, hugging him and pressing her mud-smeared cheek against the soft fur and snuggling him. “Poodle,” she repeated, almost like a prayer.

The gesture sent something soft and protective shivering through him in a way he’d never experienced before. Male gnolls were fairly well known for being the broody, protective ones, while the females were aggressive, warmongering protectors, but he’d never felt anything like that; no desire to mate, no desire to raise a brood of pups, and yet, confronted with this small, helpless human who found his fur a source of comfort instead of ridicule, he felt that feeling surge in him. He blinked, fighting the unexpected prickle of tears. It was a brotherly, even paternal, kind of protection that he’d never experienced, and it lent him strength.  

He stared the females down hard. On this, he would not back down. “Pick on someone your own size,” he growled. “There’s no sport to be had here.”

“Well, well.” Herah lowered herself down slowly onto her haunches and tilted her head, smiling humorlessly, and her friend, Zila, took a step closer to him, lips curled, canines showing.  

“Careful, Poodle,” she crooned in a low voice. “You’re courting more than just ordinary trouble if you keep this up.”

The little girl let go of him and, putting herself between the two gnolls, she crossed her arms across her chest, pouting and staring up at the female. “Leave Poodle alone,” she squeaked. “He’s a nice friend.”

Herah burst out laughing so hard she toppled over sideways, one hind leg kicking. “Oh my fuck,” she swore. “That’s precious. That’s so fucking precious. You just got told off by a fucking human pup, Zila!”

Zila took exception to that and launched herself at her friend, and the two began to scrap in a cloud of snarls and dust.

Taking the opportunity, he stood up and took a step away. Halting suddenly, he glanced down at the little girl and saw her wide eyes staring up at him. A heartbeat later he found himself saying, “Come on. Let’s leave them to it.”

Before he could turn and walk away, she slid her hand into his leathery palm and squeezed her fingers around his index finger. Tears swam in his eyes but he swallowed them down and led her quietly away from the fighting females.  

Kira stood by the fountain still, her ears pricked forwards and a dumbstruck look on her face, but she was no longer alone; she’d been joined by a male human.  

“Getting yourself into trouble again, I see, Elsie…” he chuckled at the child. “Ah, it’s a shame she’s got no one to look out for her.”

“What?” the gnoll asked, his grip tightening on her hand slightly.  

The man nodded. “Yeah,” he said heavily. “She’s nearly four years old, but her folks died a little while back and she just sort of… drifts from home to home. No one has the time or the funds to support her really.”

Kira turned her head as the group of females left the blacksmith’s, and she said, “They’ve finished. Come on, let’s go. Leave her…”

He shook his head. “You want to come with us?” he asked, and Elsie nodded.

“I love Garrett!” she giggled. “He gives me cookies sometimes.”

The fighting gnolls gave a snarl and the child cowered slightly, scuttling around to his other side.  

“You can’t keep her,” Kira hissed.  

“I know,” he retorted. “But while they’re there, I can’t just…”  

His friend sighed. “You’re too gentle, sweetheart,” she said.  

The blacksmith’s was empty in the wake of the small trading party, but the half-orc was still standing there and watching their approach from his doorway. “Well, well, Elsie,” he said when he saw the three of them. “You’ve charmed yourself a new friend, have you?”

“Poodle is my friend,” she said proudly, and, embarrassed, his rounded ears swivelled back to lie flat against his fluffy head.  

“Poodle, eh?” the blacksmith chuckled, looking the gnoll up and down. “Well, I’ve met stranger folk than you. What can I do for you?”

While Kira headed off with Garrett to look at the remaining selection of war-axes, Elsie reached her hands up and demanded, “Pick me up, Poodle!”  

He swallowed thickly. How could something so defenceless and so… so useless be so… endearing. Was this what it felt like to be a ‘proper’ male in the clan? To have his protective and nurturing instincts toyed with by the innocence of little ones? Acting on those instincts, he stooped and picked her up, settling her down on his hip and letting her sink her fingers into the thick fur of his mane. He was wearing his usual leather jerkin, but her explorative hands reached for his curved, sensitive ears, and she laughed wildly when he flicked one out of her tickling fingertips. He found a little smile on his own muzzle, and her hands then found that, and began to play with the soft, fuzzy velvet of his dark nose and lips, poking and pulling at him.

“Stop that, you pesky little scrap,” he chuckled as she yanked his ear again.  

Kira returned a while later to find him sitting with her in his lap on the floor at the foot of an anvil, whittling a little dog out of a spare piece of kindling with his belt knife. It wasn’t a whittling knife, so it wasn’t the cleanest of sculptures, but her friend had always had an artistic flare.  

She paused and watched him until he eventually looked up at her. Kira took half a step back at the look on his face. She’d never seen him look like that. Gone was the haunted look, the hunted, jumpy glances, the humiliation and torment. He looked soft and sweet, and truly happy. She swallowed the lump in her throat and sighed. Her own female urge to protect her friend suddenly intensified.  

As if responding to that, he tilted his head and whined a wordless question at her.  

She smiled and shook her head. “What are you making?” she asked, coming over and adding, “Mind if I sit too?”

Garrett looked out of the doorway into his workshop but didn’t interfere. The half-orc left them to it, pleased that Elsie was finally getting some attention.  

“I’m making her a little poodle,” he said.  

Kira leaned her cheek against his shoulder and murmured, “You could leave, you know?”

He stiffened at that, the knife falling quiet in his hands. He drew a deep breath and then let it go gently. Elsie was looking at the half-formed sculpture that lay across his palm and started to fiddle with it, her fingertips tracing the outline of the figurine. Then she yawned openly. “I could,” he said. “But… you mean, with her? Fuck, Kira, I’m a nobody. What would I do with a child? I don’t know how to raise a gnoll, let alone a human.”

Kira shrugged. “I think you’d do alright. You’ve got the empathy, you know. I think you’re the first person who’s really understood her. Or maybe she’s the first person who’s really understood you…”

He looked up at her and blinked. “Come on,” he murmured. “You get me…”

She nuzzled his ear the way he liked. “Mostly, but… I’ve never been alone the way you have. I’m a female. I have rank -”

“Despite hanging around with me,” he joked.  

Kira didn’t laugh. “Yeah. And that sucks. Your parents have practically disowned you, you’re the clan’s whipping boy, and you’re miserable. Think about it… alright?”

Elsie sighed and he felt her weight sink against his chest. She yawned again and leaned further into the warmth of his body. He murmured her name, but she was closing her eyes already. “No, no, no,” he said. “Don’t…”

He looked up and found that Garrett had returned, clearly wanting the use of his forge back.  

“Where does she live?” he asked, keeping his rough voice low and quiet.  

“She sleeps at the temple,” he said. “The priestess takes care of her mostly. When she’s got time…”

“I’ll take her back then.”

Kira took the half-finished figurine from him and slipped his belt knife back into the sheath for him, and he stood carefully. The action slightly dislodged Elsie, but she shuffled and clung to him. He looked up at Kira and said, “I… I can’t…”

“C’mon,” she said, nodding a grateful farewell at Garrett, who returned the gesture and watched the strange trio leave his workshop and head towards the temple at the far end of the town. Kira looked at the way he held her and said, “Buddy, you’re a natural at this. They missed a trick back at the clan with you…”

He smiled. “I’ve never… I mean…” he swallowed.  

“Playing house, Poodle?” a shout rang out across the street, and he froze, tail stiffening. “Happy families?”

Herah and Zila were stalking down the road, and they’d gathered a few of the others too.  

Kira braced herself beside her best friend, and Elsie stirred in his arms, waking as the tension rolled through the group. “Poodle?” she murmured.  

“Shh, it’s alright,” he said gently. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

With the innocent faith of a small child, she believed him and turned her face from the others, burying it in the thick mane around his neck.  

“No gnoll wants to mate with you,” Zila jeered, “Not even Kira here, so you’ll, what, steal a human child?”

“It’s not even stealing,” Herah cackled. “They told me that one wants that one. He’s literally just picking up the trash.”

Something snapped in him then and, unthinkingly, he handed Elsie to Kira. His lips curled back and his hackles rose. “Say that again and I will kill you,” he said. “I mean it.”

His hand found the haft of his axe and he shifted the weight of it, ready.  

Herah actually faltered. They’d seen the way males could get when defending the pups, but admittedly, that was over gnoll pups; clan pups. This was new for them.  

Kira murmured something softly to him and he twitched his ear. “What?”

“Leave it. It’s not worth it. If you get hurt, you won’t be able to see the priestess and ask if you can take care of her.”  

The steady gaze and sound advice of his life-long best friend filtered slowly through the pounding rage in his skull and he finally nodded curtly, returning the axe to its holster. Elsie was nervous, her eyes wide, but he took her gently back from Kira and turned to Herah.  

“I’m leaving.”

He turned his back on his clan, the folks who had made his life a misery, and, with one final look at Kira, one final smile, he added, “Thank you.”

“I love you,” she said. “Take care of yourself, and her, alright? Don’t vanish forever…”

“I promise.”

With his back to the red disk of the setting sun, he made his way to the temple. The priestess was more than happy for him to take the child, deciding that she’d rather keep the temple offerings to feed her own habits than feed the girl, and he continued on his way out of the other side of the village into the quiet evening.  

“Poodle?” she asked sleepily. “Where are we going?”

“You know that’s not my name, little one?” he chuckled fondly as she yawned, settling herself more comfortably into his arms.  

“What’s your name?”  

As the sun sank below the hills, he paused. Turning into the very last rays of red light, he looked back. “Aten. My name is Aten.”

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

If you like gnolls, you can read Brenn’s story here: Male gnoll/hyena boy (Brenn) x female reader Part One (nsfw) Part Two (sfw ish) Part Three (sfw) Part Four (nsfw) Part Five (nsfw) Part Six/Epilogue (sfw)

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

For all early releases, character art and bios, upcoming story info, and much, much more, join me over on Patreon!

You’ll have access to stories before anyone else, and you’ll get instant access Patreon-only content as well, including polls and an exclusive monthly story for those on the Pixies and Goblins tier or higher!

___________________________

| Masterlist | Patreon | Ko-fi | Writing Commissions |

#exophilia #gnoll #sfw story #male gnoll #female gnoll #angst #fluff #exophilia commission

[itscaptainyoulittlemaggot]

Professor Rogers’ Office (Part Five)

You and Steve arrive at Bucky and Natasha’s cabin in the woods for a filthy weekend getaway. 

Notes: Professor!Steve x Reader; College AU; STRICTLY 18+; Smut, shower sex, all that good stuff. Wanda Maximoff and Carol Danvers are girlfriends, Bucky and Nat are a kinky af married couple. All that jazz. Two updates in one day, I’m on a roll, enjoy it while it lasts.

Professor Rogers’ Office Masterlist

You stood at the edge of your bed. An open duffel bag containing no less than three pairs of shoes, four pairs of jeans, six shirts, enough underwear to last you a lifetime, and a good dress, sat right in the middle. You folded your arms and massaged your chin, thinking of what else you could possibly pack for a weekend away.

Bucky and Natasha owned a cabin. Four hours away. Natasha had the bright idea that some time away from studying might do you some good. Unfortunately for you, Steve agreed. And even though she seemed genuinely concerned about you, the thought of spending an entire weekend in the company of two strangers you had only properly met once filled you with a special kind of dread reserved only for trips back to your parents’ or heading back home to Wanda after staying out just a little bit too late. 

“You all set?” 

Wanda stood in the doorway to your room, leaning against the frame. 

“I think so. What else do I need?”

“Got your toothbrush? You know you always forget the little things.”

Your eyes widened as you delved a hand into the recesses of your bag. “Fuck.”

“Hey, Carol,” Wanda called into the hallway, “can you get her toothbrush please?”

“I’m on it!” Wanda’s girlfriend replied, her footsteps ringing through the apartment. 

“Make up, perfume, all that kind of stuff?” Wanda continued. 

“Got it all.”

Carol slipped past Wanda and handed you your toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste. “You know what would be funny?”

You raised an eyebrow. 

“What if they’re all swingers?” she chuckled.

“Carol, don’t. She’s nervous enough. Leave her alone,” Wanda scolded, coming fully into your bedroom. 

“You don’t think that would be hilarious? What about a Satanic sex cult?” Carol quipped.

Wanda took your face in her hands, a concerned look on her face. “You’re gonna be fine, you hear me? You’ve got nothing to worry about. It’s just one weekend.”

“Yeah but what if they’re just tolerating me because of Steve?”

“I think you’re good,” Carol piped up. 

Wanda turned to look at her. 

“I mean if they’re friends with a loser like Professor Rogers, then they’re gonna love you,” she shrugged. 

“Not. Helping,” Wanda said.

You raised your hand slightly, directing Wanda’s attention back to you. “Actually, yeah, that does help… kind of. Thanks, Carol.”

The three of you stood silently for a moment before the intercom buzzed. 

“That’ll be your boyfriend now,” Carol said, trudging out of the room. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you said quietly. 

“Well, sugar daddy or whatever you straight people call them.” She picked up the receiver. “Hello. Uh huh. Yep. She’s here. You’re carrying her bags, right? Good. Come on up.” She put down the receiver. “Your academic booty call is here.”

You tugged the zip on your bag closed and turned to Wanda. She was still standing there wearing that worried look. 

“Are you sure you’re gonna be ok?”

“I think so.”

She pulled you into a bone crushing hug. “If you don’t feel comfortable, you text me and we’ll come pick you up, ok? That’s not a problem.”

“I will. Promise.” 

You opened your eyes to find Steve hovering in the doorway. 

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything!”

Carol stood behind him, glaring up at him, mocking that last statement. “Dream on.”

“Professor Rogers!” Wanda smiled, picking up your bag and bringing it over to him. “You take care of my friend ok?”

“Don’t you worry Miss Maximoff, I plan to,” he said with a wink. 

“And could you maybe bump my last essay grade up by a couple per cent, please?” she asked sweetly.

“Now you know I can’t do that,” Steve said reasonably. 

“Not if you don’t sleep with him,” Carol remarked. 

“Danvers! How’s your old man?” Steve grinned. “Love the new haircut.”

“Yeah, you know damn well we don’t talk, Rogers.”

“That’s a shame. Such a good guy.”

“Whoa! Is that the time? We should probably get going!” you said, grabbing Steve’s arm so tight that he winced. 

“Yeah, get outta here Rogers!” Carol said. “And don’t be joining any Satanic sex cults, I’m warning you!”

Steve turned to leave the apartment with you still on his arm. You cast a look back at Wanda who was simply beaming, shooing you on until you closed the door behind you. 

“What was all that about?” you asked, trying to keep up with Steve as he descended the stairs. 

“I know that girl’s dad. Great guy, used to work with Bucky down at the Pen. Played a couple rounds of golf with him. Your roommate’s girlfriend, on the other hand is a bit of a brat.”

“Is it because she’s gay?”

“No! No, no, absolutely not,” Steve began, leaving the building. “It’s because she’s a brat, like I said. Refuses to get a job, takes all of his money, refuses to get along with guys. She’s difficult, you know. And if you ask me, Maximoff should stay away from that one.”

“She never was a great judge of character.”

“Well, she picked a doozie,” he remarked as you walked side by side through the parking lot. “I’m parked just over here.”

Steve popped open the trunk of the car and put your bag in there alongside his while you got inside. “You don’t half pack light,” he quipped.

“I didn’t know what kind of a trip this was gonna be.”

Steve got in beside you and closed the door.

“I mean, was it gonna be some outdoor adventure type of deal, or was it gonna be an r and r thing?” you continued. 

Steve turned the engine over. “Well I’m sure you’ve packed for every plausible occasion.”

“I hope so.”

“You excited?” he asked. “I mean, it’s ok if you’re not. They can be a bit much.”

“Well you’re a broken soul and I’m a prude, maybe we need a little loosening up, right?” you said, not so convincingly.

“I thought I was good at loosening you up?”

You turned to look at him, drawing a finger underneath the collar of Steve’s shirt. Pale blue. Chambray. “New shirt?”

“Yeah, you like it? It’s made of boyfriend material,” he said, drawing his hand over his chest. 

“It’s a little yacht club, don’t you think?” 

Steve turned the radio on and turned it up. “Nope.”

The journey was supposed to take four hours. Steve drove like a maniac though. He effortlessly halved that. A hundred all the way. 

Your breakfast was threatening to make an appearance and Steve had just about exhausted every song in existence that predated you by at least a decade. Or at least that’s how it felt. You were quiet up until thick rows of trees lined the road. 

“Almost there?”

Steve placed a reassuring hand on your leg, “almost there.”

It was rare for you to leave the city these days and you couldn’t remember the last time you were this far removed from any kind of hustle and bustle. You drank in the sight of the open road and the trees and the midday sun as it burned down from right above. “This place is beautiful,” you said quietly. 

“When I’m old, I could see myself living out here.”

“Me too. Nobody could get to me out here.”

“Maybe someday, right?”

“Us in our little cabin, surrounded by your research papers and me with my legion of cats,” you dreamed aloud. 

Steve glanced over at you. “Cats?”

“The best pets.”

“You mean dogs, don’t you?”

“Nope. Definitely mean ca-“

“We’re here!” Steve announced, swerving the car along a dirt road to your right. 

It was dark, the trees whose branches lashed against the windows of the car afforded you no glimmer of daylight. But there, at the end, was a clearing. With a small log cabin right in the centre. The only signs of life there was the red SUV parked beside the cabin, and the smoke that belched from the chimney on the roof. It was beautiful. 

Once the car came to a halt, Steve got out and slung both of your bags over his shoulder. You climbed up the wooden steps together to the door. He knocked three times.

“This place is so pretty,” you whispered to him. 

A set of footsteps shuffled towards the door on the other side, getting louder and louder until it opened. Bucky stood in front of you looking flushed and dishevelled, clad in just a towel. 

“Hey! We weren’t expecting you for another two hours!”

“Well, we were that excited that we hurried,” Steve said, “looks like you’ve been having a good time without us.”

“It’s not a party until my puny best pal and his young, hot girlfriend show up,” he said, stepping aside, “come on in!”

The living room was stifling; the log fire in the corner raged away making you break into a sweat upon entering. But it was cosy. Minimal but opulent, housing three large chesterfields, assembled around a solid oak coffee table atop a red tartan rug. There was no television, just a drinks cabinet, loaded with every poison you could dream of, and a stag’s head suspended above it. The place looked like heaven. 

Natasha sauntered in, wearing a fuzzy white robe, stabbing a mixing rod into a highball glass of muddled mint and lime. “You guys are early,” she said. 

“I just said that,” Bucky agreed. 

Her normally serious expression broke into a smile as she approached you with open arms. “How you doing, sweetie?”

“A little travel sick, but I’m good,” you replied. 

“He drives like an idiot too?” she asked, pulling away from you.

You nodded. 

“It’s the same with James,” she said, pointing to Bucky, “must be a guy thing.”

“Maybe.”

“Why don’t you two check out your room, dump your bags. Chill out for a little while and then we can get some serious drinks going?” She suggested, pointing to the short hallway to your left. “It’s the one at the end.”

You looked up at Steve.

“Sounds like a plan,” Steve said, picking up your bags again. “See you later.”

Your room was equally as sparse and extravagant in all the right ways. A plush bed that dwarfed a king size, thick fluffy pillows and a mountain of blankets. Aside from that, there wasn’t much in there, aside from two nightstands, a wardrobe and a window looking out on to the clearing. There was an ensuite too. You wandered through while Steve unpacked. 

The bathroom exuded style. Grey and silver furnishings and fixtures set it apart from the rest of the cabin. Bucky and Natasha hadn’t missed a trick with a basket brimming with lotions and potions, and thick, crisp white towels draped over heated rails. Even the most upmarket spas in the city would be pressed to compete with this. Without thinking, you began shedding your clothes. “Steve, I’m just gonna take a shower, ok?”

“Ok! Don’t take too long. I’m gonna need to pee soon.”

He could wait.

You rifled through the goods in the basket of treats. Shower creams, bath milks and body conditioners in every scent imaginable. You opened and sniffed them all. Cinnamon, rose, cherry, mango, lemon, vanilla, lavender… You settled on a simple violet soap in the end and stepped into the cubby in the far left of the room.

Your turned the dial and water came pouring out. Not too cool, not too warm. In fact, this was probably the first time in your life you hadn’t needed to duck out of the line of freezing cold fire. Your shoulders loosened under the steady pressure of the water, and you revelled in the scent of the lather you were working into your skin. You needed a shower like this back home. 

You closed your eyes, debating for just a second whether to call on Steve to join you, allowing your hands to wander over your body more freely. Ultimately, you decided against it for now. You could get by on your own. You turned, leaning against the wall, as your hand wandered down between your thighs, your fingers delving gently into your folds. Every drop of water felt like a tiny lightning bolt as it collided with you skin. You sighed quietly, tilting your head back. Bliss.

You could almost feel Steve’s presence looming over you. Your eyes squeezed shut, painting the picture that had taunted you all week. Bent over his desk, exposed and at his mercy. You had failed a test or something - that wasn’t important. He was looming, belt in hand, a stern look on his face. Your sense of dread and excitement mounting as you waited for that first crack against your cold bare skin. Every muscle in your body coiled tightly. 

In one fell swoop he brought the strap down. Jolting you forward, making you weak at the knees. You were sure his name escaped your lips a bit too loudly. Someone might have heard. 

“You called?”

Your eyes sprung open. 

Steve came closer. Now he really was looming over you. “Can I join you?” he whispered, pressing light, delicate kisses along your jaw. “Or is this a private party?”

You couldn’t get a response out before his lips were on your’s; his fingers replacing yours, dancing over your sensitive, swollen clit. His other hand was tangled in your hair, grasping it, pulling you into him. You would have taken the real thing over any fantasy you could conjure up in your head. You were glad he showed up when he did.

You broke the kiss to look him in the eye. Those baby blues of his were dark and deep set, his pupils swimming in a sea of lust. “How long have you been here,” you asked, your voice shaking as Steve’s fingertips continued to tease you. 

He nibbled at your ear, stubble grazing at your neck. “Long enough for your to get me this riled up,” he whispered, taking his fingers away from your pussy and wrapping his hand around his cock, slipping it between your lips. 

You pulled at his hair, wanting him to look at you again. “You gonna fuck me, Professor Rogers?” you asked, grinding your hips against him. 

Steve continued to tease you with long, languid strokes, looking down at you intently. “That depends if you ask nicely princess.”

You turned around to face the wall, bending at the waist to meet Steve’s cock. Playfully swaying your hips from side to side you tried to convince him, “please Professor Rogers, I really need that big, hard cock of yours. Please. I mean how could you possibly resist this? Really?” You couldn’t help but giggle, as those ridiculous words tumbled from your mouth.

Steve saw the funny side too, but not for too long. He grabbed your hips for you to stay still, your skin paling under his grip. That was your cue. It was game on. You reached between your thighs and took his cock in your hand, pressing just the tip against your entrance. 

You shivered while he slowly sank into you, clenching at his girth. You could feel Steve exhale as he filled you. 

He paused, relishing how tight you were around him, how good you felt, even like this. A little bit lost, even. 

Eager for more, you rocked against him, fucking yourself on his cock. “Are you just going to stand there enjoying the view, Professor Rogers, or are you going to fuck me?”

Steve began to move his hips with yours as soon as he heard you speak. He hunched over you slightly, his chest pressed to your back and an arm around your waist, his free hand planted on the wall. He quickened his pace, thrusting into you with an increasing urgency, knocking the air from your lungs. “You like that?” he growled in your ear. 

“Yes, Professor Rogers,” you gasped, writhing clumsily beneath him. 

Steve grabbed the shower head and trailed the warm jet of water up your thigh, making you squirm even more against his grasp. He made sure to bypass where you really needed it most. Frustrating you. You whined, becoming needy as he fucked you senseless, while denying you of what you wanted. Just that one thing to tip you over the edge. 

“Please,” you begged trying to grab the shower head from Steve.

“Please? Please what?” he taunted. 

“Please make me come!”

Steve’s thrusts turned to long, devilishly slow strokes as he trained the shower head between your legs. It took your breath away, more and more of your weight resting against Steve’s arm around your waist. “How’s that for you, Princess?” he asked breathlessly, holding on to you.

You were incoherent. Legs shaking, chest heaving, skin flushed. You closed your eyes and let the first wave hit you, crashing through your body until you couldn’t hold yourself up any longer. 

Steve wasn’t far behind you. When you came back to your senses, Steve had dropped the shower head and was holding you with both hands, his teeth pressing into your shoulder, growling, telling you just how amazing you felt, shooting ropes of his seed inside you. 

You both collapsed to the floor, leaning against the wall. You were still wrapped in Steve’s arms, cheek pressed to his chest. You must have stayed there for another twenty minutes, out of breath and definitely in need of another shower, until the water ran cold. 

You and Steve had forgotten all about Bucky and Natasha and their plans for the weekend in the cabin. Maybe this trip wasn’t going to be so bad after all. 

#steve rogers x reader #professor!steve #buckynat is real here #college AU

[notapaladin]

that i will never leave your side

In which Acatl gets a puppy, because if anyone deserves unconditional love it’s this guy.

Also on AO3

-

Theoretically, the rainy season was almost over. Theoretically it should be getting cooler, or at least drier. The Storm Lord apparently didn’t care for theoreticals, because the sun on Acatl’s bare back was merciless and every deep breath felt like he was inhaling lake water.

At least there was a good breeze and better company. Teomitl had come to meet him for lunch, and it was difficult to be too surly about the weather—or indeed, about anything—when his lover was settling down next to him with that radiant smile and offering him tamales stuffed with greens and hot peppers. The breeze wasn’t enough to make holding each other comfortable, at least until the sun went down, but it was just enough for Teomitl’s fingers to tangle lightly with his as they ate. He found himself smiling.

I’m going to miss this, came the thought. He would. When the dry season began, the army would make their preparations for war in earnest, and he’d be lucky to see Teomitl at all before they left. And then...then there would be four long, cold months without his lover’s smile. He cast his gaze down to his meal. He’s strong and intelligent. He’ll come back safely, whether it ends in a victory or not. He has to.

Teomitl flicked a glance over to him. His own tamale was almost gone. “Good, isn’t it?”

“Mm.” He would have added more peppers, but it was still delicious. He gave Teomitl’s fingers a quick squeeze. “It’s not too spicy for you?”

He could feel his lover stiffening and glanced over to catch his glare. Apparently the question had affronted him; whether it was because he hated being the object of concern or thought it would make him seem weak, Acatl didn’t know. Probably both. “Never.”

Acatl raised an eyebrow at him and waited.

Sure enough, Teomitl’s shoulders relaxed, and he shook his head with a snort. “Just because your favorite meals come from Chantico’s own hearth fires doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t handle hot food.”

He thought about that. “...It’s not that spicy.”

“Remember when Neutemoc ate some of your food by mistake?”

He winced. Admittedly, watching his brother’s whole face turn red had been mildly entertaining, but the coughing and swearing and hopefully-not-serious death threats hadn’t.

“Exactly,” Teomitl said.

Seeking to cover his embarrassment, he took another bite of his tamale—it was almost gone—and commented, “I do know you like sweet things, though.” He’d discovered it purely by accident back when Teomitl had still been his student and a late-running lesson had resulted in them eating lunch together; he hadn’t known anyone could follow up a full meal with that much honey-drizzled fruit without the world’s worst stomachache to show for it. The thought of it still made him feel a bit ill, but even then the open and honest delight on Teomitl’s face had struck him to the core.

And now he had the pleasure of watching Teomitl turn very slightly red around the ears, which was better. “And?” he huffed. “Mihmatini is much worse.”

He smiled at the memory his lover’s words sparked. “Oh, I know. Has anyone ever told you about the time she tried to climb a cactus to get at the fruit? She was...oh, about eight at the time.”

Clearly, nobody had. Teomitl blinked at him, and Acatl watched as comprehension slowly dawned across his face. “She didn’t.”

Now he was grinning, and didn’t bother to hide it. It had been distressing at the time, but in hindsight he could admit that Mihmatini’s stubborn pout had been hilarious. “She did.”

Teomitl, to his credit, managed to hold in his laughter for one heartbeat, two—and then he cracked, shoulders shaking as he broke down in squeaky giggles. It was the cutest thing Acatl had ever heard in his life. “Oh, gods,” he wheezed, shaking his head. “I know I shouldn’t laugh—but I can just imagine her face—”

“Don’t tease her about it,” he warned. Not that he necessarily thought Teomitl would, but...well. I want him in my arms because he wants to be there. Not because his wife threw him out of the house.

“I enjoy having all my extremities attached to me.” Teomitl paused, studying the remnants of his tamale. “Besides, she has enough to worry about.”

A nasty chill oozed down his spine. “What happened?”

“Nothing!” And then he paused, glancing up at Acatl through lowered lashes. It was a sight that could have melted a stronger man’s heart; Acatl felt his own thump hard in his chest. He was always weak to that look—but then his lover continued, and the words jarred him back to reality. “She was wondering if you wanted a dog.”

A dog...? The words jumbled together in his head, and he had to take a moment to comprehend them. “As what, lunch?”

“As a pet,” Teomitl huffed.

Acatl blinked at him. “...A pet.”

Teomitl fidgeted, fingers toying restlessly with Acatl’s own. “The royal kennels are full of puppies this time of year. And she—I—that is...we’re planning on getting one for ourselves, too.”

“I’m not sure I...” He bit his lip, thinking. As a child, only a few families in his calpulli had been able to afford to keep dogs, and he couldn’t recall any of them being particularly sentimental over the beasts that kept vermin away from their turkeys. When he dealt with them now, it was invariably on the sacrificial altar or the dinner table. He’d never given any thought to having one as a companion. Wagging tails. Bright eyes. A warm and enthusiastic welcome home.

Teomitl seemed to take his silence as refusal, and pulled his hand away with a curt, “Forget it, then.”

Acatl twitched in surprise, lifting his head to watch the faint flush that stained Teomitl’s cheekbones. “No,” he blurted out—he might not be sure about the notion of a pet dog, but he was absolutely sure he hated the way Teomitl withdrew into himself when he felt hurt. Before Teomitl could pull away any further, he took his hand again. “I’ll come with you.”

Teomitl stared at him. “You will?”

He laced his fingers through Teomitl’s own, letting a smile tug at his lips. “I can see it means a lot to you.”

Now Teomitl was definitely blushing, and dropped his gaze to their joined hands. “...I don’t want you to be lonely while I’m away.”

He couldn’t stifle his smile anymore. “And you think a dog will keep me company as well as you do?”

“It wouldn’t hurt,” Teomitl muttered. “And if we both get dogs, they can play with each other, so they won’t be alone either.”

Oh, my heart. Acatl had to kiss him for that. It was a law immutable as the gods’ wrath. When Teomitl sighed and melted into it, not even the heat could stop him pulling the man into his arms.

It was some time before they managed to leave the courtyard.

The royal kennels were tucked away near the House of Animals. Compared to the extravagant enclosures for the rarer beasts, they were almost nondescript—a series of low, plain buildings with a strong smell of raw meat and wet dog. Acatl had never been there. He’d been half expecting chaos and noise, but the place was quiet. The slaves and servants moved with brisk purpose, one or two with medium-sized dogs on rope leads, and Acatl wound up gazing after them as they passed. They looked friendly, at least.

They made it two steps into a well-swept and almost aggressively clean courtyard before the kennelmaster appeared. His cloak was plain, but there were feathers tied into his hair and carved bone earrings in his ears. “Ah, my lords! How can I help you today?”

Teomitl stepped up, saving Acatl from having to put a sentence together. “We’re here to look at the most recently weaned litters.”

The man’s polite smile held a thread of real warmth. “Of course, my lords, right this way.”

As they followed the kennelmaster into the depths of the complex, Acatl drew closer to Teomitl’s side and asked in a quiet undertone, “Are you sure about getting one so young?”

He nodded. “They’ll be easier to train.”

Acatl thought about the small children he knew. At least when they needed something, they could tell you in human words. Puppies would just howl. So, not that much different from little Ollin, I suppose. “And needier.”

“Hm.” But Teomitl’s eyes were sparkling in a way that said he didn’t see this as much of a downside.

Acatl sighed, shaking his head. Teomitl had grown and changed so much since they’d met, but if his new hound needed to be housebroken or taken for a run around the main island, he would think nothing of delegating to a fleet of servants. Acatl would have no such safety net; he didn’t know what Ichtaca would think about him acquiring a pet, but he suspected it wouldn’t be complimentary. No, like as not he’d be doing all the work himself. He didn’t need the extra burden.

And yet...he thought about the dry season, and the cold, and four silent walls. He thought about affection that demanded nothing save trust. It was tempting.

They were coming to a long line of wooden cages, each filled with dogs. The Revered Speaker’s hunting dogs were long-legged creatures, most with short hair but one or two hairless. Acatl avoided looking at those; their wrinkled skin reminded him unpleasantly of ahuitzotls, and no amount of love for Teomitl would make that association palatable. The kennelmaster led them to the very end, where one cage—larger than the others—held several dozen puppies of all colors.

“Well, my lords, you may go in and say hello.”

He opened the cage. Teomitl went in, crouching down for a better look at a sleeping black-and-white one. For the space of a heartbeat, nothing happened.

And then one of the puppies yipped, and the rest swarmed, and Teomitl went down in a sea of wriggly, roly-poly bodies.

“Oof!”

Acatl all but scrambled in, reaching to help him up, but realized as soon as he did so that he’d miscalculated. Entering the cage put him and his sandal straps within range of sharp little teeth, and when they pulled him off-balance he had to sit down before he fell. “Teo—ack!” He’d seen puppies before, from a distance. A nice, safe distance. He hadn’t seen them like this, all wiggling excitement and fur as they clambered over his lap.

Teomitl was no help. He was flat on his back and clearly in his element, ruffling one puppy’s ears while seeming blissfully unaware of the one gnawing on his cloak. Even more were vying for his attention, and he chattered to them in a tone Acatl hadn’t even heard him use with Ollin. If he was feeling suicidal or felt like sleeping alone until the end of next summer, he might have described it as cooing. “Oh, look at you! Yes, hello—oh, no, I can’t pet all of you at once!” It wasn’t stopping him from trying.

Acatl was regretting having put his cloak back on. The extra fabric only meant more things for puppies to chew, sniff at, and get tangled in, and it was a struggle to remain upright with half a dozen tiny things all snuffling around him. “Excuse—no, do not chew on my hair!” Annoyed, he jerked his head out of the range of curious teeth, but even that didn’t help; the offending dog, a red-and-white female, seemed to view it as a new and exciting game. Another one took the distraction as a chance to bound into his lap and rear up on its hind legs, planting its slobbery tongue on his chin.

“I’m terribly sorry,” said the kennelmaster, who did not sound sorry at all. Acatl threw him a glare, but it was hard to summon up much irritation with a puppy licking his face; its tail was wagging so fast it was practically a blur.

Besides, Teomitl was delighted, and his joy was infectious. Acatl was more acutely aware of it than he’d ever been of his own heartbeat or of his patron’s magic. When a tiny yellow puppy shoved its nose into his ear, the reward was another one of those undignified squeaks of laughter that always flipped Acatl’s heart upside down.

Before he knew it, he realized he was smiling. “...You love dogs.”

Teomitl’s grin split his face. “Mm-hmm.” A mostly-white one started trying to gnaw his hair, and he gently shoved it away. “I always wanted a pet of my own.”

“I can see that,” he murmured. Teomitl had grown up like a wildflower under the eye of an assortment of nurses and tutors and older, distant relations. He doubted any one of them had looked at the lonely boy his lover had once been and thought to give him any sort of gifts, never mind a companion that would repay his care with unconditional devotion. The thought pinched Acatl’s heart.

But before he could get emotional over it, the dog in his lap was pushed off by its bigger sibling, who proceeded to stomp in an irregular circle—remarkably uncomfortable, that—and settle down to sleep without a single care in the world. Blinking, he looked down at it. It was mostly black with dark orange feet, eyebrows, and muzzle, and its fur was very, very soft. Its floppy ears looked even softer.

“...Oh,” he managed.

Teomitl pushed himself upright, dislodging a few of his own furry passengers. “I think you’ve been chosen.”

Carefully, he risked lifting one hand and stroking the puppy’s ears. It snored on, undisturbed, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “...Good boy,” he murmured. “Good boy.” Its ears really were very soft. It took a moment before he could respond to Teomitl’s words. “...Perhaps I have.”

Long ago, Teomitl had done much the same thing—had barged into his life and made a home for himself in his heart, standing on the steps of his temple in the setting sun. “I still need you” flashed into his head, followed a moment later by the just as devastating memory of another sunset on the temple steps, when a smile had reached into his chest and pulled joy from the depths of his own uncertainty. He gazed down at the dog in his lap. It wouldn’t be the first time someone else has chosen me, and look where it’s gotten me now. A joy I never would have known otherwise.

��Well?” Teomitl asked. “What do you think?”

He bit his lip, thinking. One of the dog’s hind legs twitched, as though it was running in its dreams. “...This one seems to like me.”

“He has good taste,” Now Teomitl was smiling; Acatl suddenly, fervently wished they didn’t have an audience. It was too easy to imagine himself leaning over and kissing that smile.

Before he could do anything reckless, he shifted his weight in preparation for getting to his feet, and immediately realized he had a problem. “...Ah. How do I...” He looked down at the dog again, which hadn’t even stirred...but which surely would, if he got up too quickly and startled it. He chewed his bottom lip again. Surely, carrying a puppy couldn’t be too much different from carrying one of his baby nieces or nephews, but it was so small.

“Like this.” Teomitl reached over and adjusted his hold, helping him settle the puppy—his puppy now—into his arms. As he’d thought, it was much the same as carrying a human infant, but the puppy had a wiggly body and dull little nails, and as Teomitl helped him nestle it against his shoulder it blinked sleepy brown eyes at him. He barely dared breathe.

A dog. Something to take care of. Something that will live by my side so that I won’t be alone. “I’ll take him,” he blurted out.

“Really?” Teomitl looked surprised, as though he wasn’t expecting Acatl to make a decision so soon.

Truthfully, Acatl hadn’t been expecting it either, but it felt good. It felt right. He thought of the long months ahead, of going home to an empty house at the end of the day, of eating his meals in silence. He thought about a cold nose tucked into the crook of his arm and little paws twitching in dreams. He even thought, briefly, of playing tug-of-war with the hound it was sure to grow up to be. Maybe he could sacrifice his formal cape to the cause. “Really.”

“An excellent choice, my lord.” Acatl twitched; he’d almost forgotten the kennelmaster was there. “Will you be needing a cage for him?”

Ah. Right. Dogs needed things like beds and chewable objects that were not his sandals, sleeping mat, or cookware. “...That would be appreciated, yes. And a leash, as well.”

As the kennelmaster left, presumably to find what Acatl had asked for, Teomitl beamed like the sun. “What will you name him?”

He hadn’t thought of a name, but one came to him anyway. “...Miton, I think.” Little Arrow.

Now Teomitl was blushing and swatting his shoulder, but it was worth it.

#obsidian and blood #acatl #teomitl #paladin writes stuff

[ferryboatpeak]

good things by good people: the best fic i read in 2017

The community aspect of writing fic is easily my favorite part of fandom. I was so lucky this year to get to know so many talented writers who brainstormed with me and encouraged me and allowed me to beta for them and left me nice comments and tolerated me screaming into their inboxes. So I’m going to close out the year by gushing about all of them and my favorite things they wrote in 2017.

queerlyalex: I learned multishipping at @queerlyalex’s feet, and I continue to admire their versatility, enthusiasm, and prolific production. Also I am eternally grateful to them for reblogging me early on; it’s only thanks to Alex that I have any pals around here. Alex absolutely slayed me with a few well-crafted sentences this year (e.g., ”Louis stares at Niall like he’s a map without a legend.”) and I also adored their hiatus nouis and creepy robot nouis and… okay, I just realized Alex is my favorite nouis writer.

Mildly_Maddy: @mildlymaddy writes with such heart and tenderness, and I particularly admire the physicality of her writing. Cold noses, headaches, fingernail scratches… she always makes me feel the characters’ physical sensations. Maddy’s also the most genius editor in all the wide world; every single thing I’ve written this year has benefited from her keen eye and unerring ability to not only diagnose the problem but to come up with the solution. Finally, Maddy makes brevity her bitch. Nobody writes tagfic like she does, and her hamille drabble might be my favorite thing I’ve read this year, 100 words densely packed with so many things I love (a clever joke on current canon, positive treatment of female side characters, harry in a collar). In 2017 I also particularly loved her hedgehog fairy louis, lilo bad wardrobe phone sex (a brilliant concept well-executed), and of course her nouis post-louelle breakup porn.

dramaturgicallycorrect: I am in awe of @wickershire​’s skills at worldbuilding. She writes an amazing diversity of settings and eras, and every single one of them feels completely realized. She also has this way of centering her characterizations on lesser-emphasized canon details, which is a brilliant trick that makes her characters feel simultaneously familiar and fresh. Her wolvesfest fic leaned into Niall’s fearlessness, Harry’s need to feel useful, and Louis’s protectiveness. Her Wimbledon fic took Harry’s treatment by the media and somehow used it to make this clumsy deer-legged menace into a believable professional athlete, alchemy of the highest order. (The sentence that laid me flat: "He stretches his long limbs as far as they can go and just like that, everything that’s Liam’s belongs to him.") Her narry road trip fic turned Harry’s aggressive image curation into obsessive travel experience planning (ohhhhh goddddddd, “’You’re an act of god,’ Niall tells him, but he means Harry’s a natural fucking disaster.”) AND AS IF THIS WASN’T ENOUGH, Kate also wrote the alex/peter fic the world needed.

saysthemagpie: You’re all aware that @saysthemagpie​ is the total package: brilliant plotting, achingly beautiful character development, gorgeous imagery, hilarious crack, and smoking hot sex scenes. I love Jes’s writing so much that it’s hard to narrow down my 2017 favorites, except that her dunkirk sex pest crackfic is unquestionably at the top of the list. 50 shades fionrry was also an instant classic, and I think the very first appearance of the barry characterization we didn’t know we needed but now can never live without. I also loved every scrap we got of small town divorce fic and sexswap narry and dog park lilo/fionrry and hazoff mpreg, and she finished always be your boy with some grade-A Harry Styles suffering. Also, these particular sentences: “He feels light and sort of airy, like someone’s flung open all the windows inside of him, sunlight spilling in.” and  “When his gaze drops to Mitch’s mouth, Mitch feels the tug of it in his chest, a pull like the tide: moon-drawn, inexorable.” and  “when he can’t stop himself testing his thumb against the bright keen edge of his loss”

countthestars: @moondoggiestyle is a plotting genius who somehow manages to make the tropiest of tropes suspenseful. She can turn any scrap of canon into angst, usually in a way that’s also hilarious, and I really admire the way she interacts with prompts and cultivates readership. Here’s how much I have reread her fic: I was beta’ing something of hers and recognized a turn of phrase repeated from something else she wrote like two years ago, and I almost didn’t say anything because I was super embarrassed to admit that I am like the foremost scholar of her work. I am forever grateful that she’s put up with me chattering away in her inbox all year long about hitch and werewolves and the midwest, and allowed me to deluge her with my thoughts on the excellent when the wolves come out under the guise of beta’ing it. Other 2017 favorites: hitch, and more hitch, harry vs. shapeshifting demon (SO MANY LAUGHS IN SO FEW WORDS), pop punk nouis (my number one dream in life is 50K of this), the small town little league au, and oh my god this sentence: “His touch is soft, almost tentative, like Niall’s something breakable. Like Niall’s not something he’s already broken.” ALSO she has written the very best part of dark werewolf hitch and if I have to construct a 40k ark to bear her 1K forth to the world in 2018 I will happily do so.

fliptomybside: uni fionrry is maybe my favorite verse going right now. It’s soft and hot and tentative and happy and I love every new installment. I also love @polaroidgirlfriend‘s queer kendall and how effectively she’s characterized through the many ways she tries to physically erase herself.(”She spreads her arms and her legs out so they’re not touching. It’s easier to feel weightless, this way. Takes away her awareness of her own limbs and the way she takes up space.”)

sunsetmog: I am in awe of how @magicalrocketships makes every single sentence, every single word, contribute to character development (this 26-line story is a perfect example.) In 2017, she upended the famous/not-famous trope with Harry Styles Cooks.... I love, love, love that Louis’s reaction to Harry appearing on his doorstep is to be mad at him for materializing instead of remaining a safely abstract celebrity crush. She also blessed us all with You’re a Naughty Rabbit, Louis; a long-awaited installment of I Had Rather; and the gryles Mallorca fic we all desperately needed.

rilla: The greatest zarry author of all time posted little writing this year but every bit of it was exceptional. Her hogwarts zarry has all the beauty and wonder the source material is missing, her similes make me want to cry (”He’s lit around the edges like someone’s taken a cigarette lighter to a sheet of paper”), and even this plot outline was exquisite. (@flomps, we don’t talk enough? I’m so grateful you hung on in this fandom long enough for me to know you even a little, though.)

yeahloads: Attempting to praise @harryshippudge by praising her fic is a misleading exercise because it completely misses a major area of her genius, namely her brilliance at generating plots and prompting others to do the same. I have written thousands upon thousands of words because Liz asked the right question or came up with the right twist on a trope, and I hope that someday she will bring her abandoned wolvesfest concept to life either as gryles or as original fiction, because it’s an absolutely brilliant idea. The single snippet she posted is maybe my favorite thing she wrote this year. (Although I am also delighted she got on board the hitch train, and her hazoff abo mpreg verse is weird and wonderful communication porn.)

1000-directions: I love @1000-directions’s quick wit, grace under fire, and willingness to go as niche as it gets (ESPECIALLY breaking the seal on loufro, a ship that I have high hopes for in 2018). Her pig dog POV was one of the most clever, original things I read this year -- the voice sounds just like a dog wagging its tail. I also deeply appreciate her Camille blogging and the associated fic.

#la's 2017 introspection #this list is not ranked #it's roughly in the order in which we became mutuals #and hell yes this is me bragging that all these amazing people are my mutuals #sorry this is so long #i wanted everyone in one post #and nobody behind the cut #fic rec

[fanficsandfluff]

Stranger Things Tickle Headcanons

An anon asked if I had any Stranger Things headcanons, and boy do I :) Gonna be a long list so stay tuned.

Mike: This kid’s strong-willed and knows what he wants and works hard. He’s more subdued than the rest but they all love him just the same. And since he’s more reserved, the group find it hilarious to tickle him and hear him laugh. And let me tell you, Mike is very ticklish. At first, he only let Will tickle him since they were the closest, but once Dustin found out, as well, it was game over. Mike’s laugh is squeaky and he becomes breathless very quickly. Probably most ticklish on his knees, sides, and the back of his neck.

Will: Ohhh my precious baby who suffers too damn much. He’s got the sweetest smile and since he’s been through so much, it’s been hard for him to rejoin the group and be as happy with them as he once was. But Mike is always there to help him out. It was Mike who started to lightly tickle Will when he saw that his friend needed it. Will’s one to plead with his attackers when they tickle him, but he doesn’t exactly hate it. He knows how ticklish he is and how much he can handle, so he’s so relieved when his friends tickle him to the point of passing out because they don’t see him as some fragile boy. Will dreads tickle attacks from his mom and/or Jonathan because the two of them know all of his spots. His spots are definitely all over his neck and his ribs.

Lucas: He fights the tickles to the death. Like he will hurt anyone who tries to get him, so he needs to be pinned down. Once the guys use all their strength to get Lucas pinned, it’s usually Dustin who does the honors and wrecks him. The guys take great pleasure in hearing Lucas’s shrieking laughter. He’s the kind of kid who when tickled can’t form words properly and winds up just laughing. His spots are his lower ribs, thighs, kneecaps, and armpits.

Dustin: This fucking child. Oh my god. He has the best time when he’s tickled, even though a majority of the time he’s the ler. He has the tendency to curse when he’s being tickled, even though he’s in no real danger nor is he uncomfortable. And the incessant cussing gets the guys laughing right along with him. He has one of the deeper laughs of the gang, but it’s adorable and addictive just the same. If he’s tickled too much, he starts screaming out of nowhere and it’s funny as hell. Dustin’s worst spot is his belly.

Max: Even though she’s new to the gang, Lucas made sure he inducted her properly by finding out where she was ticklish. And surprisingly to him, she wasn’t super ticklish. He had to work hard to find a spot that even made her giggle. If you grab her in her sides and squeeze repeatedly, you’re gonna get a laugh. But she’s such a mischievous ler once you get her going and she won’t stop till her victim’s red in the face.

Eleven: It was a delicate combination of Mike’s help as well as Hopper’s to get El used to knowing what tickling is. While watching TV, El stumbled upon a cartoon that used the word tickle, to which she asked Hopper what that was. And from there it was history. Nothing made Hopper quite as happy or emotional as hearing Eleven laugh that loud and for so long, as the sound and her light struggling brought back memories of his daughter. He warmed up to the damn kid even quicker after that encounter. But Mike was the one who found out next and made tickling a fun activity for the two of them. He was gentle with Eleven, never wanting to tickle her too hard in case she tossed him across the room. But she never stopped him, not once. And once she got the hang of the concept, she made Mike her plaything for a looong time. El’s tickle spots are her belly, armpits, sides, and hips.

Nancy: Being the older sister, she was never the one to get tickled, even though she dished it out to Mike when they were both younger. Nancy has the cutest giggle, and a bright little smile. She was first tickled when she was with Steve. He was a playful guy, so he’d end up caressing her or poking her in certain sensitive places, and once he found out she was ticklish, he’d do it every chance they were alone. Steve liked that it was some private activity they could engage in. Once Jonathan came into the picture, he was more hesitant. It was actually Nancy who found out Jonathan’s ticklishness first before he ever got her. And he enjoyed making her giggle, but never tried to destroy her with intense tickles. Nancy can be quite the ler though, so watch out. Her worst spot is her ribs, with a close second being her toes.

Steve: This dad is as playful and loving as a damn dog. He’s protective and little things can set him off. But man is he a tickle monster. Now that he’s worked with the kids and even hangs around them, he gets involved in tickle fights with them a lot. He growls and really plays the part well. But the downside to playing tickle monster with a group of young, barely-teens is that they can overpower him easily. Steve has a super loud laugh and when he’s tickled, he lets it out. He’s also a squirmer so he’ll thrash his legs and arms around, but he knows he won’t hurt the kids when he does so. Dustin seems to take the most joy out of tickling him, and makes him admit to dumb stuff just because. Steve also had a grand ol’ time with Nancy. When it was his turn to get tickled, he’d shrink into a ball and just giggle the night away. His worst spots are pretty much everywhere, but his hips are a spot that makes him spazz. 

Jonathan: Similar to Nancy’s situation, Jonathan would be the ler throughout most of his and Will’s childhood. However, before Will was born and even when Will was barely a year old, Joyce would love to tickle her son. She’d get a rare laugh out of him that was hard to come by after his father left them. Jonathan would laugh along with Will whenever he’d tickle him to try and show him that he was having fun, too. And he remembered Will loving to be tickled for a good three years or so but then he stopped all of a sudden. He wouldn’t ask for it anymore and he would protest it if Jonathan tried it. Still, the two were close. Jonathan forgot completely about being ticklish himself until he met Nancy. As a lee, Jonathan is the type to try and hold back his laughter for as long as possible since it was always something he didn’t quite like about himself. He’d try to hide his smile and hold in all laughs as Nancy worked her fingers all over his torso. But the thing was, Nancy’s encouragement and teasing didn’t help his resolve so he’d crack when she got to a certain spot and he’d wind up giggling. Jonathan’s laughter was a light, giggly kind, and he only let out little screams of laughter when Nancy would jab into someplace. Nancy tried to make Jonathan comfortable with his smile and especially his laugh, so she’d whisper loving compliments to him as she tickled him. But the both of them being lers most of their lives made for some great payback for each of them. Jonathan is really ticklish in his armpits, his neck (like Will), his lower belly, and his knees.

Joyce: Joyce is an absolute anxious sweetheart, and she deserves peace and happiness for once in her life. Growing up, she’d been on and off with Hopper, but they ultimately remained great friends. And yes, Hopper did get his fair share of tickles in with Joyce Byers in their youth. How could you blame him? She had a wide smile and would scream and “punch” him in defiance, it was all hilarious and adorable. Once Joyce found Bob, there was hardly a day in her life without some laughter, whether from tickles or not. She adored being tickled by Bob because he was so sweet about it. She’s very ticklish with spidery tickles across her back and her sides. 

Hopper: To the town of Hawkins, Hopper is a hardened sheriff who’s hard to press and hard to please. They see him as a smoking drunkard half the time, but he does end up doing good things for the town. He tries hard. Only a select few people get to see Jim Hopper’s softer side. The most special of those people is Joyce. From a young age, the two were paling around, teasing each other, smoking behind the school. Joyce did find Hopper cute, and she was not going to let him live it down when she found out he was ticklish. It was really a slightly drunken discovery, since they were in her parents’ basement at the time, drinking and smoking to their liking. A few curious pokes later and Joyce had Hopper a laughing heap on the couch. While he is ticklish, Hopper much prefers being the ler. Getting Joyce to laugh when they were younger was one of his favorite pastimes, and even in more present times he loved her to death. When his daughter was around, he loved playing tickle monster with the child. And some of that love carried over to Eleven once he took her up. Jim’s a loving father-figure to anyone he can be to. He’s most ticklish on his belly, but he’s also pretty sensitive to gentle neck kisses.

#stanger things #stranger things headcanons #tickle headcanons #mike wheeler #will byers #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #max mayfield #eleven #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #jonathan byers #joyce byers #jim hopper

[unsettlingshortstories]

How to Get Back to the Forest

Sofia Samatar (2014)

“You have to puke it up,” said Cee. “You have to get down there and puke it up. I mean down past where you can feel it, you know?”

She gestured earnestly at her chest. She had this old-fashioned cotton nightgown on, lace collar brilliant under the bathroom lights. Above the collar, her skin looked gray. Cee had bones like a bird. She was so beautiful. She was completely beautiful and fucked. I mean everybody at camp was sort of a mess, we were even supposed to be that way, at a difficult stage, but Cee took it to another level. Herding us into the bathroom at night and asking us to puke. “It’s right here,” she said, tapping the nightgown over her hollow chest. “Where you’ve got less nerves in your esophagus. It’s like wired into the side, into the muscle. You have to puke really hard to get it.”

“Did you ever get it out?” asked Max. She was sitting on one of the sinks. She’d believe anything.

Cee nodded, solemn as a counselor. “Two years ago. They caught me and gave me a new one. But it was beautiful while it was gone. I’m telling you it was the best.”

“Like how?” I said.

Cee stretched out her arms. “Like bliss. Like everything. Everything all at once. You’re raw, just a big raw nerve.”

“That doesn’t sound so great,” said Elle.

“I know,” said Cee, not annoyed but really agreeing, turning things around. That was one of her talents.

“It sounds stupid,” she nodded, “but that’s because it’s something we can’t imagine. We don’t have the tools. Our bodies don’t know how to calculate what we’re missing. You can’t know till you get there. And at the same time, it’s where you came from. It’s where you started.”

She raised her toothbrush. “So. Who’s with me?”

• • •

Definitely not me. God, Cee. You were such an idiot.

• • •

Apparently, a girl named Puss had told her about the bug. And Cee, being Cee, was totally open to learning new things from a person who called herself Puss. Puss had puked out her own bug and was living on the streets. I guess she’d run away from camp, I don’t really know. She was six feet tall, Cee said, with long red hair. The hair was dyed, which was weird, because if you’re living on the streets, do you care about stuff like that? This kind of thing can keep me awake at night. I lie in bed, or rather I sit in the living room because Pete hates me tossing and turning, and I leave the room dark and open all the curtains, and I watch the lights of the city and think about this girl Puss getting red hair dye at the grocery store and doing her hair in the bathroom at the train station. Did she put newspapers down? And what if somebody came in and saw her?

Anyway, eventually Cee met Puss in the park, and Puss was clearly down-and-out and a hooker, but she looked cool and friendly, and Cee sat down beside her on the swings.

• • •

“You have to puke it up.”

• • •

We’d only been at camp for about six weeks. It seemed like a long time, long enough to know everybody. Everything felt stretched out at camp, the days and the nights, and yet in the end it was over so fast, as soon as you could blink. Camp was on its own calendar—a special time of life. That was Jodi’s phrase. She was our favorite counselor. She was greasy and enthusiastic, with a skinny little ponytail, only a year or two older than the seniors. Camp is so special! The thing with Jodi was, she believed every word she said. It made it really hard to make fun of her. That night, the night in the bathroom, she was asleep down the hall underneath her Mother Figure, which was a little stuffed dog with Florida on its chest.

• • •

“Come on!” said Cee. And she stuck her toothbrush down her throat, just like that. I think Max screamed. Cee didn’t start puking right away. She had to give herself a few really good shoves with that toothbrush, while people said “Oh my God” and backed away and clutched one another and stared. Somebody said “Are you nuts?” Somebody else said something else, I might have said something, I don’t know, everything was so white and bright in that moment, mirrors and fluorescent lights and Cee in that goddamn Victorian nightgown jabbing away with her toothbrush and sort of gagging. Every time I looked up I could see all of us in the mirror. And then it came. A splatter of puke all over the sink. Cee leaned over and braced herself. Blam. Elle said, “Oh my God, that is disgusting.” Cee gasped. She was just getting started.

• • •

Elle was next. All of a sudden she spun around with her hands over her mouth and let go in the sink right next to Cee. Splat. I started laughing, but I already felt sort of dizzy and sick myself, and also scared, because I didn’t want to throw up. Cee looked up from her own sink and nodded at Elle, encouraging her. She looked completely bizarre, her wide cheekbones, her big crown of natural hair, sort of a retro supermodel with a glistening mouth, her eyes full of excitement. I think she even said “Good job, Elle!”

Then she went to it with the toothbrush again. “We have to stop her!” said Katie, taking charge. “Max, go get Jodi!” But Max didn’t make it. She jumped down from the third sink, but when she got halfway to the door she turned around and ran back to the sink and puked. Meanwhile Katie was dragging Cee away from the sink and trying to get the toothbrush, but also not wanting to touch it, and she kept going “Ew ew ew” and “Help me, you guys,” and it was all so hilarious I sank down on the floor, absolutely crying with laughter. Five or six other girls, too. We just sort of looked at each other and screamed. It was mayhem. Katie dragged Cee into one of the stalls, I don’t know why. Then Katie started groaning and let go of Cee and staggered into the stall beside her, and sploosh, there she went.

• • •

Bugs.

It’s such a camp rumor. Camp is full of stories like that. People say the ice cream makes you sterile, the bathrooms are full of hidden cameras, there’s fanged, flesh-eating kids in the lake, if you break into the office you can call your parents. Lots of kids break into the office. It’s the most common camp offense. I never tried it, because I’m not stupid—of course you can’t call your parents. How would you even get their number? And bugs—the idea of a bug planted under your skin, to track you or feed you drugs—that’s another dumb story.

Except it’s not, because I saw one.

The smell in the bathroom was terrible now—an animal smell, hot; it thrashed around and it had fur.

I knew I was going to be sick. I crawled to the closest place—the stall where Cee knelt—and grabbed hold of the toilet seat. Cee moved aside for me. Would you believe she was still hanging onto her toothbrush? I think we both threw up a couple of times. Then she made this awful sound, beyond anything, her whole body taut and straining, and something flew into the toilet with a splash.

I looked at her and there was blood all over her chin. I said, “Jesus, Cee.” I thought she was dying. She sat there coughing and shaking, her eyes full of tears and triumph. She was on top of the world. “Look!” she breathed. And I looked, and there in the bowl, half-hidden by puke and blood, lay an object made of metal.

It actually looked like a bug. Sharp blood-smeared legs.

“Shit!” I said. I flushed the toilet.

“Now you,” said Cee, wiping her mouth on the back of her wrist.

“I can’t.”

“Tisha. Come on.”

Cee, I couldn’t, I really couldn’t. I could be sick—in fact I felt sicker than ever—but I couldn’t do it that hard. I remember the look in your eyes; you were so disappointed. You leaned and spat some blood into the toilet.

I whispered: “Don’t tell anyone. Not even the other girls.”

“Why not? We should all—”

“No. Just trust me.”

I was already scared, so scared. I couldn’t bear the idea of camp without you.

• • •

We barely slept that night. We had to take showers and clean the bathroom. Max cried the whole time, but for at least part of the night, I was laughing. Me and Katie flinging disinfectant powder everywhere. Katie was cool, always in sweatpants, didn’t give a shit about anything.

“You know your friend is a headcase, right?” she said.

It was the first time anybody’d called Cee my friend. We got out the mop and lathered up the floor. Everyone slipped and swore at us, coming out of the showers. Cee went skidding by in a towel. “Whee!” she shrieked.

• • •

You cannot feel your bug. I’ve pressed so hard on my chest. I know.

“I could feel it,” said Cee. “After they put it back in.” It wasn’t exactly a physical thing. She couldn’t trace the shape of the bug inside her, but she could feel it working.

“Bug juice,” she said, making a sour face. She could feel bug juice seeping into her body. Every time she was going to be angry or afraid, there’d be this warmth in her chest, a feeling of calm spreading deep inside.

“I only noticed it after I’d had the bug out for a couple of weeks.”

“How did your parents know you needed a new one?”

“I didn’t need one.”

“How did they know it was gone?”

“Well, I kind of had this fit. I got mad at them and started throwing food.”

We were sitting on my bed, under my Mother Figure, a lamp with a blue shade. The blue light brought out the stains on Cee’s Victorian nightgown. We were both painting our toenails Cherry Pink, balancing the polish on my Life Skills textbook, taking turns with the brush.

“You should do it,” Cee said. “I feel better. I’m so much better.”

I thought how in a minute we’d have to study for our Life Skills quiz. I didn’t think there was bug juice in my body. I couldn’t feel anything.

“I’m so much better,” Cee said again. Her hand was shaking.

• • •

Oh, Cee.

• • •

The weird thing is, I started writing this after Max came to visit me, and I thought I was going to write about Max. But then I started writing in your book. Why? This book you left me, your Mother Figure. You practically threw it at me: “Take it!” It was the worst thing you could do, to take somebody else’s Parent Figure, especially the mom. Or maybe it was only us girls who cared so much about the moms. Maybe for the boys it was the dads. But anyway, taking one was the worst; you could basically expect the other kids to kill you. A kid got put in the hospital that way at a different camp—the one on the east side—but we all knew about it at our camp. They strung him up with electric wires. Whenever we told the story we ended by saying what we would have done to that kid, and it was always much worse.

But you threw this book at me, Cee, and what could I do? Jodi and Duncan were trying to grab your arms, and the ambulance was waiting for you downstairs. I caught the book clumsily, crumpling it. I looked at it later, and it was about half full of your writing. I think they’re poems.

dank smells underground want to get back

no pill for it

i need you

I don’t know, are they poems? If they are, I don’t think they’re very good. A nap could be a door an abandoned car. Does that even mean anything? Eat my teeth. I know them all by heart.

I picked up this book when Max left. I wrote: “You have to puke it up.” All of a sudden I was writing about you. Surprising myself. I just kept going. Remembering camp, the weird sort of humid excitement there, the cafeteria louder than the sea. The shops—remember the shops? Lulu’s was the best. We’d save up our allowance to go there. Down in the basement you could get used stuff for cheap. You got your leather jacket there. I got these red shoes with flowers on the toes. I loved those shoes so much! I wonder where they went? I wore them to every mixer, I was wearing them when I met Pete, probably with my white dress—another Lulu’s purchase I don’t have now.

It was summer, and the mixer had an island theme. The counselors had constructed this sort of deck overlooking the lake. God, they were so proud of it. They gave us green drinks with little umbrellas in them and played lazy, sighing music, and everyone danced, and Pete saw a shooting star, and we were holding hands, and you were gone forever and I forgot you.

• • •

I forgot you. Forgetting isn’t so wrong. It’s a Life Skill.

• • •

I don’t remember what my parents looked like. A Parent Figure cannot be a photograph. It has to be a more neutral object. It’s supposed to stand in for someone, but not too much. When we got to camp we were all supposed to bring our Parent Figures to dinner the first night. Everyone squeezed in at the cafeteria tables, trying to find space beside their dinner trays for their Figures, those calendars and catcher’s mitts and scarves. I felt so stupid because my Mother Figure was a lamp and there was no place to plug it in. My Father Figure is a plaque that says Always be yourself.

Jodi came by, as the counselors were all going around “meeting the Parents,” and she said, “Wow, Tisha, that’s a good one.”

• • •

I don’t even know if I picked it out.

• • •

“We want you to have a fabulous time at camp!” Jodi cried. She was standing at the front with the other counselors: Paige and Veronica and Duncan—who we’d later call “Hunky Duncan”—and Eric and Carla and the others.

Of course they’d chosen Jodi to speak. Jodi was so perky.

She told us that we were beginning a special relationship with our Parent Figures. It was very important not to fixate. We shouldn’t fixate on the Parent Figures, and we definitely shouldn’t fixate on the counselors.

My stupid lamp. It was so fucking blue. Why would you bring something blue? “The most important people in your life are the other campers!” Jodi burbled. “These are the people you’ll know for the rest of your life! Now, I want you to turn to the person next to you and say, Hi, Neighbor!”

• • •

Hi, Neighbor! And later, in the forest, Cee sang to the sky: Fuck you, Neighbor!

• • •

Camp was special. We were told that it was special. At camp you connected with people and with nature. There was no personal tech. That freaked a lot of people out at first. We were told that later we’d all be able to get online again, but we’d be adults, and our relationships would be in place, and we would have learned our Life Skills, and we’d be ready. But now was special: Now was the time of friends and of the earth.

Cee raised her hand: “What about earthquakes?”

“What?” said Veronica, who taught The Natural World. Veronica was from an older group of counselors; she had gray hair and leathery skin from taking kids on nature hikes and she was always stretching to show that you could be flexible when you were old.

“What about earthquakes?” Cee asked. “What about fires? Those are natural. What about hurricanes?”

Veronica smiled at us with her awesome white teeth, because you could have awesome white teeth when you were old, it was all a matter of taking care of yourself with the right Life Skills.

“What an interesting question, Celia!”

We were told that all of our questions were interesting. There’s no such thing as a stupid question! The important thing was always to participate. We were told to participate in classes and hikes and shopping sprees and mixers. In History we learned that there used to be prejudice, but now there wasn’t: It didn’t matter where you came from or who you loved, just join in! That’s why even the queer girls had to go to the mixers; you could take your girlfriend, but you had to go. Katie used to go in a tie and Elle would wear flowers. They rolled their eyes but they went anyway and danced and it was fun. Camp was so fun.

Cee raised her hand: “Why is it a compliment to tell somebody it doesn’t matter who they are?”

We were told to find a hobby. There were a million choices and we tried them all: sports and crafts and art and music. There was so much to do. Every day there was some kind of program and then there were chores and then we had to study for class. No wonder we forgot stuff. We were told that forgetting was natural. Forgetting helped us survive, Jodi told us in Life Skills class, tears in her eyes. She cried as easily as Max. She was more like a kid sister than a counselor. Everybody wanted Jodi to be okay. “You’ll always be reminded,” she said in her hoarse, heroic voice. “You’ll always have your Parent Figures. It’s okay to be sad! But remember, you have each other now. It’s the most special bond in the world.”

Cee raised her hand: “What if we don’t want us?”

Cee raised her hand, but of course she raised her hand. She was Cee. She was Cee, she’d always been Cee, do you see what I mean? I mean she was like that right from the day we arrived; she was brash, messy Cee before the night in the bathroom, before she supposedly puked out her bug. I couldn’t see any difference. I could not see any difference. So of course I had second thoughts. I wished so bad I hadn’t flushed the toilet. What if there wasn’t anything in it? What if somebody’d dropped a piece of jewelry in there, some necklace or brooch and I thought it was a bug? That could have happened. Camp was so fun. Shaving my legs for the mixer. Wearing red shoes. We were all so lucky. Camp was the best thing ever. Every Child at Camp! That was the government slogan: ECAC. Cee used to make this gag face whenever she said it. ECAC. Ick. Sick.

• • •

She took me into the forest. It was a mixer. Everybody else was crowded around the picnic tables. The lake was flat and scummy and the sun was just going down, clouds of biting insects golden in the haze.

“Come on,” Cee said, “let’s get out of here.”

We walked over the sodden sand into the weeds. A couple of the counselors watched us go: I saw Hunky Duncan look at us with his binoculars, but because we were just two girls they didn’t care. It only mattered if you left the mixer with a boy. Then you had to stop at the Self-Care Stand for condoms and an injection, because becoming a parent is a serious decision! Duncan lowered his binoculars, and we stepped across the rocks and into the trees.

“This is cool!” Cee whispered.

I didn’t really think it was cool—it was weird and sticky in there, and sort of dark, and the weeds kept tickling my legs—but I went farther because of Cee. It’s hard to explain this thing she had: She was like an event just about to happen and you didn’t want to miss it. I didn’t want to, anyway. It was so dark we had to hold hands after a while. Cee walked in front of me, pushing branches out of the way, making loud crackling sounds, sometimes kicking to break through the bushes. Her laugh sounded close, like we were trapped in the basement at Lulu’s. That’s what it was like, like being trapped in this amazing place where everything was magically half-price. I was so excited and then horrified because suddenly I had to take a dump, there was no way I could hold it in.

“Wait a sec,” I told Cee, too embarrassed to even tell her to go away. I crouched down and went and wiped myself on the leaves, and I’m sure Cee knew what was up but she took my hand again right after I was done. She took my disgusting hand. I felt like I wanted to die, and at the same time, I was floating. We kept going until we stumbled into a clearing in the woods. Stars above us in a perfect circle.

“Woo-hooooo!” Cee hollered. “Fuck you, Neighbor!”

She gave the stars the finger. The silhouette of her hand stood out against the bright. I gave the stars the finger, too. I was this shitty, disgusting kid with a lamp and a plaque for parents but I was there with Cee and the time was exactly now. It was like there was a beautiful starry place we’d never get into— didn’t deserve to get into—but at the same time we were better than any brightness. Two sick girls underneath the stars.

Fuck you, Neighbor! It felt so great. If I could go anywhere I’d want to go there.

• • •

The counselors came for us after a while. A circle of them with big flashlights, talking in handsets. Jodi told us they’d been looking everywhere for us. “We were pretty worried about you girls!”

For the first time I didn’t feel sorry for her; I felt like I wanted to kick her in the shins. Shit, I forgot about that until right now. I forget so much. I’m like a sieve. Sometimes I tell Pete I think I’m going senile. Like premature senile dementia. Last month I suggested we go to Clearview for our next vacation and he said, “Tish, you hate Clearview, don’t you remember?”

It’s true, I hated Clearview: The beach was okay, but at night there was nothing to do but drink. So we’re going to go to the Palace Suites instead. At least you can gamble there.

Cee, I wonder about you still, so much—I wonder what happened to you and where you are. I wonder if you’ve ever tried to find me. It wouldn’t be hard. If you linked to the register you’d know our graduating class ended up in Food Services. I’m in charge of inventory for a chain of grocery stores, Pete drives delivery, Katie stocks the shelves. The year before us, the graduates of our camp went into the army; the year after us they also went into the army; the year after that they went into communications technologies; the year after that I stopped paying attention. I stopped wondering what life would have been like if I’d graduated in a different year. We’re okay. Me and Pete—we make it work, you know? He’s sad because I don’t want to have kids, but he hasn’t brought it up for a couple of years. We do the usual stuff, hobbies and vacations. Work. Pete’s into gardening. Once a week we have dinner with some of the gang. We keep our Parent Figures on the hall table, like everyone else. Sometimes I think about how if you’d graduated with us, you’d be doing some kind of job in Food Services too. That’s weird, right?

• • •

But you didn’t graduate with us. I guess you never graduated at all.

• • •

I’ve looked for you on the buses and in the streets. Wondering if I’d suddenly see you. God, I’d jump off the bus so quick, I wouldn’t even wait for it to stop moving. I wouldn’t care if I fell in the gutter. I remember your tense face, your nervous look, when you found out that we were going to have a check-up.

“I can’t have a check-up,” you said.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because,” you said, “because they’ll see my bug is gone.”

And I just—I don’t know. I felt sort of embarrassed for you. I’d convinced myself the whole bug thing was a mistake, a hallucination. I looked down at my book, and when I looked up you were standing in the same place, with an alert look on your face, as if you were listening.

You looked at me and said: “I have to run.”

It was the stupidest thing I’d ever heard. The whole camp was monitored practically up to the moon. There was no way to get outside.

But you tried. You left my room, and you went straight out your window and broke your ankle.

A week later, you were back. You were on crutches and you looked . . . wrecked. Destroyed. Somebody’d cut your hair, shaved it close to the scalp. Your eyes stood out, huge and shining.

“They put in a bug in me,” you whispered.

And I just knew. I knew what you were going to do.

• • •

Max came to see me a few days ago. I’ve felt sick ever since. Max is the same, hunched and timid; you’d know her if you saw her. She sat in my living room and I gave her coffee and lemon cookies and she took one bite of a cookie and started crying.

Cee, we miss you, we really do.

Max told me she’s pregnant. I said congratulations. I knew she and Evan have been wanting one for a while. She covered her eyes with her hands—she still bites her nails, one of them was bleeding—and she just cried.

“Hey, Max,” I said, “it’s okay.”

I figured she was extra-emotional from hormones or whatever, or maybe she was thinking what a short time she’d have with her kid, now that kids start camp at eight years old.

“It’s okay,” I told her, even though I’d never have kids—I couldn’t stand it.

They say it’s easier on the kids, going to camp earlier. We—me and you and Max—we were the tail end of Generation Teen. Max’s kid will belong to Generation Eight. It’s supposed to be a happier generation, but I’m guessing it will be sort of like us. Like us, the kids of Generation Eight will be told they’re sad, that they need their parents and that’s why they have Parent Figures, so that they can always be reminded of what they’ve lost, so that they can remember they need what they have now.

I sat across the coffee table from Max, and she was crying and I wasn’t hugging her because I don’t really hug people anymore, not even Pete really, I’m sort of mean that way, it’s just how I turned out, and Max said “Do you remember that night in the bathroom with Cee?”

Do I remember?

Her eyes were all swollen. She hiccupped. “I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m scared.” She said she had to send a report to her doctor every day on her phone. How was she feeling, had she vomited? Her morning sickness wasn’t too bad, but she’d thrown up twice, and both times she had to go in for a check-up.

“So?” I said.

“So—they always put you to sleep, you know . . .”

“Yeah.”

I just said “Yeah.” Just sat there in front of her and said “Yeah.” Like I was a rock. After a while I could tell she was feeling uncertain, and then she felt stupid. She picked up her stuff and blew her nose and went home. She left the tissues on the table, one of them spotted with blood from her bitten nail. I haven’t really been sleeping since she left. I mean, I’ve always had trouble sleeping, but now it’s a lot worse, especially since I started writing in your book. I just feel sick, Cee, I feel really sick. All those check-ups, so regular, everyone gets them, but you’re definitely supposed to go in if you’re feeling nauseous, if you’ve vomited, it might be a superflu! The world is full of viruses, good health is everybody’s business! And yeah, they put you to sleep every time. Yeah. “They put a bug in me,” you said. Camp was so fun. Jodi came to us, wringing her hands. “Cee has been having some problems, and it’s up to all of us to look after her, girls! Campers stick together!” But we didn’t stick together, did we? I woke up and you were shouting in the hall, and I ran out there and you were hopping on your good foot, your toothbrush in one hand, your Mother Figure notebook in the other, and I knew exactly what they’d caught you doing. How did they catch you? Were there really cameras in the bathroom? Jodi’d called Duncan, and that was how I knew how bad it was: Hunky Duncan in the girls’ hallway, just outside the bathroom, wearing white shorts and a seriously pissed-off expression. He and Jodi were grabbing you and you were fighting them off. “Tisha,” called Jodi, “it’s okay, Cee’s just sick, she’s going to the hospital.” You threw the notebook. “Take it!” you snarled. Those were your last words. Your last words to me. I never saw you again except in dreams. Yeah, I see you in dreams. I see you in your white lacy nightgown. Cee, I feel sick. At night I feel so sick, I walk around in circles. There’s waves of sickness and waves of something else, something that calms me, something that’s trying to make the sickness go away. Up and down it goes, and I’m just in it, just trying to stand it, and then I sleep again, and I dream you’re beside me, we’re leaning over the toilet, and down at the very bottom there’s something like a clump of trees and two tiny girls are standing there giving us the finger. It’s not where I came from, but it’s where I started. I think of how bright it was in the bathroom that night, how some kind of loss swept through all of us, electric, and you’d started it, you’d started it by yourself, and we were with you in that hilarious and total rage of loss. Let’s lose it. Let’s lose everything. Camp wasn’t fun. Camp was a fucking factory. I go out to the factory on Fridays to check my lists over coffee with Elle. The bus passes shattered buildings, stick people rooting around in the garbage. Three out of five graduating classes join the army. Give me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change! How did I even get here? I’d ask my mom if she wasn’t a fucking lamp. Cee, I feel sick. I should just grab my keys, get some money, and run to Max’s house, we should both be sick, everybody should lose it together. I shouldn’t have told you not to tell the others. We all should have gone together. My fault. I dream I find you and Puss in a bathroom in the train station. There’s blood everywhere, and you laugh and tell me it’s hair dye. Cee, it’s so bright it makes me sick. I have to go now. It’s got to come out.

[smiley-stark]

A Slippery Situation

Sebastian Stan One Shot

a/n: this is one of the many things I’ve been working on this past week. BIG thanks to @theliteratureloser for this idea! I’ve only got one request left to work on, so please feel free to send in ANY request! I can definitely try anything. Thank youuu xoxo.

warnings: some language probably, fluff fluff fluff, lube, inappropriate jokes, this is all pretty pg tbh. enjoy! *not my gif*

Loose gravel crackled under tires as you pulled slowly into your reserved parking spot at the studio, nerves gushing for your first real day shooting.

 'I’m thinking about doing a look like this? With your prosthetic skills, I could pull it off.' 

A bright message appeared on your screen and you almost snorted from laughing at the attached photo. Him wearing one of the stunt doubles' wigs. Sebastian had always been such a joker. Though you had only known him for a matter of months, you were absolutely infatuated. 

Being an SFX/makeup artist and designer definitely had its perks. Working on movies was one of those perks.

 "Not sure I’m skilled enough to make that look good!"

 Your mind wandered back to the first few times you met Sebastian as you typed back your response. You were assigned to take on Marvel's newest hit, a Captain America movie. You were given the privilege of meeting all of the actors and actresses that had specific suit. Sadly, you also had the burden of creating said suits. The costume for Bucky was extremely difficult. You had to incorporate the iconic bionic arm, which would definitely be a challenge.

Luckily, after four months of varying measurements, long nights, and pure determination, you had completed the ever so important appendage. You popped the trunk of your car and grabbed a suitcase full of makeup and supplies, setting it on the asphalt next to you. Reaching back in (much more carefully) you pulled out the piece de resistance, a box containing the metal arm.

You approached the door, struggling with your many bags, but managed to pull it open and head inside. Scarlett was already sat in her hair and makeup station, hair being fluffed by your good friend Tonio. You reached around and tapped her shoulder. When she opened her eyes and saw who it was she practically squeaked. "(Y/n)! Ahh! How are you! It's been like two weeks?!" She pulled you into a quick hug. 

"Hey Scar! I'm alright, how about yourself?" You asked, pulling out from the embrace to examine her face. 

 "Excited! I'm sure you are, too. Lots of fight scenes to film today. Lots of fake blood to use!" You chuckled, knowing you'd be using a lot more than fake blood.

 "Anthony Mackie! The man himself!" You joked, spreading your arms out and welcoming your dear friend with a hug as he entered the room. 

 "(Y/n)! Darling!" He laughed, being extra as always. The two of you made small talk about his new costume until you hear an uncomfortable scuffle from behind you. Turning, you had to cover your mouth to avoid laughing. 

 "Sebastian?! What are you doing?" The man was trying to walk without bending his legs and was looking extremely hilarious while doing so.

 "Hey! You made this thing! I can hardly walk." he said, a slight pout lacing his voice. 

"Hey! You should be happy! I tailored it to make your butt look good!" You joked, gesturing to the tight pants he was stuffed in. 

 "Yeah, yeah! Whatever." He laughed back, sitting stiffly in his chair. "Just come make me pretty." 

 "Oh, Bas, you're already so pretty!" You laughed, pulling out a kit of makeup.

"Thanks, sweetheart" he rolled his eyes at your sarcasm. 

 "I swear! The two of you talk like an old married couple." Anthony piped up from where he was reading his lines. For a few minutes you went back and forth between Sebastian and Scarlett, trying to hurry and finish their makeup. Normally you wouldn't rush things like this, but you had no idea how long it would take to get the arm on, and judging from the tightness of the suit, you assumed it would take a while. Finally, you completed the makeup and both of them were perfectly airbrushed. Looking in the mirror, Scarlett thanked you and headed off with Anthony to start the day, leaving Sebastian behind. 

"Let's see my baby" he smiled and shifted in his seat from anticipation. You brought the box to him and sat it in his lap. Slowly, you lifted the lid and revealed the shiny new piece of armor. 

 "Holy shit..." he seemed blown away by your work. To be fair, you did a pretty damn good job. He looked from the arm to you repeatedly, shaking his head in disbelief. 

"It's pretty simple, actually. Three parts. Bicep, forearm, and hand." You explained, pointing to each section. "First, we'll slide on the bicep, add the forearm, and work on the glove. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy!" He laughed at your childish remark but went along with it. 

"Alright. Let's up my badassery and get this thing on." You sucked a breath in through your teeth and scratched the back of your neck. 

“Wait a second... what?” He narrowed his eyes at you, crossing his arms and furrowing his brows. You turned around and grabbed the two small bottles from your makeup bag, hiding them behind your back.

“Before we get to putting it on, I have a question.” You asked, batting your eyes in fake innocence.

“Oh my God what’d you do?” He asked, suspicion lacing his voice as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Will you just hush up and answer my question?” You joked, cocking a brow. He heaved a sigh and shrugged.

“Well,” You began, pulling the bottles out from behind you, “Do you want warming or flavored?”

He froze. Staring at the bottles and then to you, questioning what the bottles were meant for with his eyes, implying what he wanted to use them for with his smirk.

“For your arm, you dirty man!” You laughed, doubling over when you saw a look of shock wash over his face.

“Well, uh.. in that case, let’s try flavored. What flavor did you pick up?” He asked, wiping his hands on his knees.

“Vanilla.” You chuckled, shaking the bottle in front of his face.

“Sounds like the kind of sex Robert has.” He quipped, causing you to snort. 

wait. had you just..... had you really just snorted in front of him. like full on?? fuck fuck fuck

“Your laugh is so cute!” He chuckled, joining you in laughter at his own joke. Relief washed over you and you decided to get to work on putting on the arm.

“Alright, Bas. Just be still. I’ll try to make it quick.” You assured, trying to stifle your giggles at how wrong your words sounded. You slathered a layer of the vanilla lube along his arm, cringing a little at the slip it left on your hands. You turned and picked up the bicep of the arm, attempting to slide it on.

nope

“We’re gonna need more.” You sighed, dousing his arm a second time. Finally, the bicep started to move up his arm and he cringed visibly at the feeling.

“I’m so sorry, Bas. Did they change up your workout regimen again? I don’t see why this isn’t going on easier.” You felt really bad. Maybe it was a mistake on your part? There was no way. You had followed each of his measurements perfectly, making sure he had room to move around with the arm on.

“Yeah, they said they would email you about it? I’m guessing they didn’t.” He heaved another sigh, sending you an apologetic glance.

“It’s okay! We’ve got plenty of lube and lots of stamina!” You encouraged, trying to stay positive.

“Well, what in the name of God is going on in here?!” Anthony almost shrieked, entering the room from a side door with his hands over his eyes.

“Oh my God! Anthony! No, no, no, it’s not what you think. Will you call Tonio in here? I need your help getting this arm on.” You pleaded, trying to pull his hands off of his eyes but failing due to the slippery substance on your hands.

“You’re slimy! What have you two been up to?!” Anthony burst into laughter at the scene playing out before him. “Oh. My. God. Sebastia- Oh my God! I’ll be right back” He left the room in a fit of laughter, hunching over and clutching his stomach.

When he returned, Tonio trailed behind him completely clueless. The look on his face was priceless when he saw Sebastian’s glistening arm.

“Guys, I’m sorry to ask this of you, but I need help getting this arm on.” You sighed, giving them the best puppy dog eyes you could muster.

“Alright, fine But if I ever catch the two of you using this lube for something else, I swear I’ll beat you both!” Tonio warned, reaching over and pouring more of the substance onto Sebastian’s arm. 

“I am so, so sorry Seabass.” Anthony laughed, placing his hands on the metal. “On my count of three, we slide it up, okay?” He asked, looking around at the three of you. 

After a LOT of elbow grease (ha ha) and determination (and lube), the arm was on and fully functional. Sebastian stood and examined it in the mirror, clearly admiring your attention to detail as the other men left. You called out a quick ‘thank you’ before grabbing a towel to wipe off the excess currently dripping from Sebastian’s arm.

“Again, I’m really sorry. I tried my best.” You muttered, refusing to meet his gaze.

His fingers brushed gently under your chin, politely pulling your eyes to his. “Hey, it’s amazing. Just like you... I- I have to go now. Thank you” He muttered the last words, but you could’ve sworn that he glanced at your lips once or twice.

For the next few weeks you, Tonio, and Anthony used countless bottles of slip on Sebastian. Every day you sat and laughed at his visible discomfort until the final day of shooting rolled around.

“Hey princess, ready?” He asked, walking behind you and placing a hand gently on the small of your back. You had gotten used to this. These soft touches. Gentle reminders of how badly you wanted to envelope him in hugs and shower him with kisses. 

Keep it professional, (Y/n). You reminded yourself.

You turned, grabbing another bottle from your makeup bag and heaved a sigh. “Ready if you are.”

He sat in his designated chair, throwing a wink at you from across the room. You joined him and started applying the product, this had become second nature. 

“I’ll grab Tonio and Anthony” You laughed, turning away from him. Before you could take a step, you felt a slippery hand touch your wrist.

“Wait, (Y/n), can we talk?” His eyes were full of worry, making your heart sink into your stomach immediately.

“Yeah? What’s wrong, Bas?” You asked, lovingly tucking a strand of his soft hair behind his ear.

“Listen, I don’t want to fade away after today.” He confessed, refusing to look at you.

“What?” You responded, completely confused.

“I don’t want this to be the last time we see each other. (Y/n), I don’t know if you haven’t noticed, but I really care about you.” His eyes finally met yours. Normally there was some hint of a smile in them, but not now. He was completely serious as he sat before you, covered in lube, dressed like a supersoldier, confessing his feelings for you. You couldn’t help but giggle at the entire situation.

“I shouldn’t have said that...” He muttered, looking down in embarrassment.

“No! No, I’m so glad you did say that. I just cant help but laugh at your arm. I’m sorry.”

“You’re glad?” He questioned, looking to you with his brows raised. You nodded in response and a look of relief flashed over his features before he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you into a slow, passionate kiss.

“Maybe next time we need lube it’ll be for something else.” He joked after pulling away.

“What the hell?!” Anthony shrieked from his hiding spot outside of the door, causing you to lean into Sebastian’s chest, cracking up. His chest vibrated with laughter and he brought up his clean hand to stroke your hair.

“Hey, (Y/n)?”

“Yes, Bas?”

“After this we should ditch these losers and grab dinner, sound good?”

You smiled into the warmth radiating from his chest and hummed in agreement. Pushing off of him, you reached over to re-lather his arm, preparing to pull the damned thing on again. Funny how the same thing you spent hours pulling on Sebastian’s arm was the thing that pulled you together.

(and, no, it wasn’t the last time you used lube)

 this post’s tags!

@theliteratureloser @thevanishedillusion 

permanent tags are: open!

-xoxo nic

#sebastian #stan #Sebastian Stan #Sebastian Stan x reader #sebastian stan one shot #dating Sebastian Stan would include #sebastian stan imagine #winter soldier #bucky barnes #imagine #fic #sebastian stan fandom #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan drabble #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebstan #seb stan x reader #seb stan imagine #seb stan one shot #imagine requests #i take requests #marvel imagines #marvel oneshots #marvel fanfic #marvel drabbles #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #avengers fanfic #avengers oneshot #actors