#plus. the choppy at-home look is in.... right?

[rubarb69]

Theres something so special about cutting your own hair; maybe it is uneven and choppy, and maybe it does frame your face poorly. But its still uniquely yours. Self actualization or something

#poetry #something about trans joy #maybe #idk #only you have to wake up with yourself every day #be happy with who that person is #plus. the choppy at-home look is in.... right? #and like if you say you slay and serve then you will. even if your hair is a botched mess #infact it might add to it #its a silly goofy element #ive spent my whole life being considerate #being palatable #and even still #people are disgusted by me #so why try #why not be myself 100% of the time #if people are gonna call me a freak i might as well put on a show

[toorurs]

AQUARIUS

synopsis: in which the both of you get partnered for a mission, but not just as work partners.

pairing: chūya nakahara x fem!reader | wordcount: 2.7k | content & warnings: fluff, mention of chūyas past , choppy writing + no proofead (you can tell when i got lazy + its 3am does it looks like im gonna proofread), unestablished relationship, they work at the pm, cursing (son of a bitch), chūya calls reader a term of endearment once (doll), dual pov | prompt: fake dating | onseshot

event: STARCROSSED 2024

tags: @azullumi hi beloved super cool azul ure so super duper cool. dont flip out but azul liked and rbed ur posts. me: (whys theres no backflip emoji) (we're literally friends). but omg i acc dont have friends im a mess im a loser im a hater im a user

a/n: i finished this at 3am also boo gingers perish /j. hope yall enjoy!!

“so? what are we here for, boss? 

the auburn haired man asked. his left hand is glued to his side, resting on his gray waistcoat, his right hand was loosely shoved into the pocket of his dress pants. chuuya cocked his head to the side as he questioned your boss. 

“i’ve made my decision.” 

the man who was seated in front of you in his claret bergère chair announced. his slender fingers were encased in white adhesive gloves. the palms of his hands were facing down as he rested his chin on the back of his hand, magenta eyes flickering from chuuya and then to you before exhaling quietly and closing his eyes, pale skin draping over his eyes.

“after some back and forth, i’ve come to the conclusion that the most suitable person for this mission will be our dear miss [name]. she’ll be your plus one to the ball, accompanying you to your mission thus also carrying it out with you. gather information about our target and return as soon as possible. understood?” 

the man before you asked, a playful smile had found its way on his face and his head was slightly angled to the side as he awaited your agreement. 

“understood.” the both of you said in unison. chuuya took off the fedora that was placed atop of his head with his left hand and put it onto his chest as he closed his eyes and the both of you bowed down.  

“very well then. i await good news.” mori continued to smile as he gestured to both of you to take your leave by waving.

-

when you arrived back home, you immediately spotted two big boxes that were placed in your living room. one of them included a gorgeous dress, although it was a bit plain - a monochrome dress, it was beautiful nevertheless. as you stood up to see how the piece of clothing would fit you, you took notice that it was quite long, the expensive fabric immediately meeting the floor. the material of the dress was sewn a bit tighter to make the waist stand out a bit more. 

the other box contained a pair of matching heels in the same color. they weren’t too extravagant but still it seemed like the boss went all out when choosing the clothes. admittedly, you were a bit excited to see what chuuya would wear, would his outfit match with yours?

even though the both of you have worked together in the port mafia for so long and have been executives for a couple years now, the both of you never went on missions together, at least not when it was just the two of you. 

chuuya gained the title of portmafia executive at the ripe age of 16, one year after he had joined the portmafia. while you on the other hand have only been an executive for a few years now. chuuyas strength is immense, not only the power of his ability but also his physical strength. he's not only respected but also feared among the members of the portmafia. 

so to say that you were a tad bit nervous would be an understatement. 

-

you set foot inside the big mansion, stepping towards the ballroom that was located right behind the doors of the entrance. a big chandelier adorned the ceiling, it illuminated the big room in a saffron-like color. the kaleidoscopic marble floor glittered beneath the opaline light and the large windows were shielded by white translucent curtains, behind them the moon and the stars were sparkling gracefully.

but they don't compare to chuuya - not in the slightest. he’s dressed in a suit that matches your dress, beneath his blazer there was a waistcoat and he doesn't wear his fedora or any other hat.

chuuyas eyes glow like a sapphire, the azul pair of eyes hides so much beneath them, they reach until the depths of the ocean, that is full of mysteries waiting to be uncovered - just like chuuya.

chuuya tenderly held your gloved hand with his left one, leading you to the side of the dance floor where everyone else stood, drinks in their hands as they chattered and laughed. the both of you came to a halt and the conversations stopped, attention solely on you and chuuya.

“my, some new faces. and who might you be? an elderly woman asked, as she took a small sip of her champagne.

“well, my name is chuuya nakahara. it's a pleasure to meet you.” he reached out his right hand to shake hands with the elderly lady. “ah i see. well then, nice to meet-” “the pleasure is all mine!” before she was able to finish her sentence someone interrupted her, chiming into the conversation. you turned your head over to the source of disturbance, a young man who was dressed in all white, hair a bit unkempt as he gave you a boyish smile. 

“the pleasure is all mine!” the man repeated happily. “well, i'm sure it is.” chuuya murmured under his breath, giving the man a look that said “we heard you the first time.”

“may i ask who the lovely lady next to you is?” the man asked excitedly as if he had a hard time waiting. “oh you may.” chuuya responded in a faux courtesy tone. “she’s my spouse, my wife actually.” chuuya held up his left hand that was still intertwined with yours. 

“chuuya..” you glanced at him from the side, whispering through gritted teeth, as you continued to smile nicely at the other people who were conversing and you could only listen. 

“hm what is it?” the auburn haired answers, slightly raising his eyebrow as he turned his head to face you.

“it was supposed to be girlfriend, the boss never said anything about being married.” your voice croaks a bit, overall it seems like tonight your voice has betrayed you, sounding awkward everytime you exchange a word with chuuya. 

“oh.” chuuya uttered.

“yeah, oh.” you sighed. the man seemed to take his leave and you continued your talk. “well, what's done is done. it doesn't matter now. let's just continue, carry out the mission successfully and report back to the boss.”

“yeah.” chuuya nods in agreement. “let's split up for now and gather intel and information about our target.” 

“alright, i'll go to the other side of the room then and you stay here?” you ask. 

“sure thing.” chuuya responds and calls over the waiter, asking for a small glass of wine, so he can pass the time a bit and doesn't only have to mindlessly listen to their boring conversations. after the waiter takes his leave, chuuya notices that you’re still here, next to him. glued to your place, not moving an inch. 

“wasn't it your idea to split up? why are you still here? he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

you let out an exasperated sigh. “well, you see, i was trying to. but, someone's hand has been holding onto mine very tightly for the past minutes and won't let go.” 

chuuya seemed to catch on pretty quickly and immediately let go of your hand. “m’sorry.” he mumbled. “ah, don't worry.” you cast him a small smile before leaving and step towards the other side of the room. 

chuuyas eyes can only follow you. (they always have.)

-

after you left, his hand felt empty. 

(but it's not like they’ve ever felt complete. he hides his hands to conceal his ability, the one that causes tumult and destruction, the one that makes him question if he can even be considered as human. his humanity is one thing chuuya still struggles with, it haunts him like a hunting animal, a wolf running and seeking out its prey, shredding it into pieces and devouring it without any mercy. but in this case chuuya can't help but wonder if he's the wolf who always seeks for the prey - the validation and the reassurance if he's human or if he's the prey that gets tormented by the constant feeling of knowing that he’ll never be (human) enough. for others, himself and you.)

the wine glass that he now holds in his left hand doesn't compare to your hand, it doesn't fill the endless void that chuuya sinks into. (he wonders when he’ll completely be devoured by it and eventually drowns.) your hand was the one that held out to him, the hand that’d pull him out of it, if he himself wasn't able to do so. 

(chuuya is used to doing everything on his own, everything that once belonged to chuuya was stripped away from him, like a sheep that has its pelt ripped away from a wolf. his family, his friends, his humanity, they were once his. chuuya nakahara also belonged to him once - now he belongs to the port mafia. it has always been like that; it will always be like that.)

he can't help but grip his glass in envy as he watches you from across the room as you ecstatically laugh and chatter with a woman your age, it looks like you’re enjoying yourself, having the time of your life.

the way you laugh, move around so that the frills of your dress twirl with you, and eyes glimmer make you look majestic. 

to chuuya you're not an outworldly creature like an angel that was chosen by the gods and descended from the heavens or a fairy that has magical powers to bewitch him. 

you’re human - you’re more human than anyone else chuuya has ever encountered in his life, perhaps that is when chuuya really realized what it meant to be a human.

the raw and pure nature of humans was perfectly depicted in you.

the way you flawlessly managed to do every task you were assigned with and always came back with a bright grin plastered across your face, the way you always looked out for everyone, the way you sometimes went completely batshit during missions. you’re what chuuya has always imagined under being a human. (or perhaps all of his beliefs of being human have changed as soon as he saw you.)

you’re the large white and empty canvas that waits patiently until it gets filled with tons of colors. chuuya is the artist who holds the paintbrush in his hand, fingers trembling as he draws paint strokes along the canvas. pouring his heart out into the painting, vivid colors full of emotion, that say more than a thousand words ever could. chuuyas art makes paintings come to life - you. his muse, whom he could stare at for an eternity during an art exhibition, just like now during the ball.

you’re beautiful.

“mr. nakahara?” a male voice made him snap out of his haze, upon seeing who it was, chuuya almost spat out the red wine. great, it was the guy from before. “yes? how can i help you”? chuuya gives him an unimpressed look as he twirls the alcoholic liquid in his glass around. “I just wanted to ask if i’d be permitted to dance with your spouse. she's a really lovely woman, i felt quite bad for her because you didn't invite her to one single dance yet, even though you're her husband!” the man looks at him unapologetically. 

son of a bitch.

but again, who was chuuya to judge? chuuya isn't in any position to forbid you to dance with someone, after all, the two of you weren't even together, the two of you were just partners, work partners to be precise. 

still, there was something that stirred inside chuuyas gut that made him feel uneasy. an ugly feeling that made his gut churn. is this how jealousy feels? sure, chuuya has felt jealous a few times. seething in envy as he saw people with good relationships to their friends and families, people who were allowed to live a normal life, living just like a normal civilian, doing normal things, without having to worry. chuuya couldn't help but feel jealous. 

but this time  it's another type of jealousy, he’s not jealous of other people because they own something he doesn't but he’s jealous of the people who’re just as smitten for you as him.

“ah, well you see. i was just about to go and ask her for a dance. please excuse me.” his words are bitter and the glass of red wine is long forgotten, placing it onto the round table which is covered by a big white table cloth. 

chuuya makes his way over where you stand, your cheeks are tinted in a rosy color, from the alcohol he assumes. your hair is a bit disheveled, have you played with the strands of your hair? but nevertheless, you continue to shine as beautifully as ever.

he tips you onto your shoulder and upon that you slightly flinch and turn around, eyes widening a bit when you see chuuya. “what are you doing here?” you whisper.

the auburn haired man doesn’t respond to your question, instead he bows down and reaches out his hand out to yours. “may i ask for this dance? after all, it takes two to tango.” chuuya thanks the gods that instead of facing you right now, he's facing the floor. he's not sure if he'd be able to bear it if you saw his flushed face. 

your mouth shapes into a little “o” before responding. “sure.” you hum as you happily place your hand into his, intertwining your fingers. upon feeling your touch, chuuya immediately pulls you towards the dance floor. your movements start off clumsily but chuuya helps you gain and maintain your balance, swaying you around the dance floor and twirling you around, as the both of you dance hand in hand. one of his hands is placed on your waist and your hand has found its home on his shoulder.

chuuya continues to sway you around during a slow classical music piece. “i'd prefer some  hard rock music.” you can hear chuuyas' little remark and cant help but laugh upon that, it distracts you from keeping your balance and tempo, almost tripping over the long fabric of your dress.

“careful, doll. you're gonna slip.” chuuya whispers. his warm breath fans against your ear, the heat rises through your whole body, making you shudder and your goosebump hairs stand up. you can only hum at that, too taken aback by the term of endearment, to properly respond. 

the both of you slow your pace, your hands wrapping around his neck and his hands snaking around your waist to sway around. you put your forehead against his chest first, until you fully lean into his embrace. 

this moment feels too intimate. that’s everything chuuya can think about, he’s scared that one day you too will also be ripped away from him, he doesn’t want that. chuuya likes you a lot, he adores the way you hum the sweet melody against his chest, the way your hands accidentally keep slipping off his neck but still return there every time, the way you sometimes step onto his foot but he stays quiet, yeah he’s absolutely whipped for you - he loves you. 

but, is someone who’s out of this world, a non-human, who only moves in the shadows of the world, allowed to love a human, who lives their life freely?

chuuya doesn't know. 

your line of work is dangerous, you could always encounter dangers that’d have a terrible outcome and chuuya wouldn't be there to prevent them, again, he’d lose everything that makes him human. chuuya isn’t sure if he’s able to live through this once again. 

the both of you are work partners, crossing this line would come with its consequences.

but he allows himself to indulge in this moment, just this once. humans are greedy and selfish aren't they? it's in their nature. so being selfish for once, just this one time, just for you, wouldn’t mean committing a sin, would it?

chuuya buries his face into your hair, inhaling your shampoo, it smells sweet - the saccharine scent makes him relax. he presses a chaste kiss on top of your head, before gently continuing to sway you around. 

after all, this is what work partners do, right?

e/n: tbh i didnt like this at all. it was so choppy just sentence after sentence without a real plot imo. i just didnt like how this turned out at all but i dont think id be able to write smth else or else itd turn out even worse

© TOORURS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is not permitted.

#toorurs #— STARCROSSED 2024 !! #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuuya x reader #bungo stray dogs fluff #bsd fluff #bsd x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya fluff #chuuya nakahara fluff #chuuya x you #chuuya x fem!reader

[bemtevis]

the sin of sincerity

With nowhere to go, Kamala stumbles upon Alastair. They get along much better than expected. Ch. 1: tell me the truth... Ch. 2: ...so I don't have to lie

This theory comes from this post by @melanielocke, pls check it out!

CW: spoilers for chain of thorns, allusions to period-typical homophobia; let me know if I missed anything.

     Ariadne walked a couple blocks before realising she had nowhere to go.

     Crap.

     Don’t panic.

     She considered her options. Going back was out of the question, of course. Renting a hotel room, too, would be difficult, seen that she had no money. She had no friends or relatives, no favours to call in, no idea where to go next… crap, crap, crap. Do not panic.

     Okay, she was panicking. Her pace became unsteady and her breaths choppy, creating clouds in the chilly London weather. Ariadne stopped for a moment, leaning against a wall. If only she weren’t so dependent. If only she had bothered to build connections outside her engagement. If only she was more like… 

     Anna.

     Maybe Anna would laugh at her and shut the door on her face. Maybe she’d have a look through the peephole and refuse to let her in. Maybe she was with another girl right now. Maybe. But it was better than going home.

     Ariadne got up with renewed determination, which lasted minutes before being crushed. As she approached Anna’s flat, a sound filled her ears: music, coming from the inside. She was probably throwing a party, or receiving a private concert from a pretty girl. Of course she was. She was Anna bloody Lightwood, and her life hadn’t stopped because Ariadne’s had.

     She sat down on the steps, burying her face in her hands. Panic was rising up her throat again when a familiar face approached her.

     “Miss Bridgestock?” 

     It was Alastair Carstairs, her ex-fiancé’s ex-friend, or whatever he was. Charles had never told her, but she had her theories. They’d made friendly conversation in the past, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he disliked her. But then again, he seemed to dislike everyone.

     “Mr. Carstairs,” Ariadne greeted, then cringed at the roughness of her voice. She cleared her throat, doing her best to sound casual. “Good evening. I was just out for a stroll. You know how it is.”

     His eyes found the holdall beside her and he raised an inquisitive eyebrow. Heat filled her cheeks. She had to get better at lying.

     “I see,” Alastair said with practised politeness, a tone she knew all too well. “I was doing the same, actually.”

     An idea occurred to her. 

     “There’s a restaurant down the street,” she burst out. “Have you had the time to visit it? Lovely place, really. I could show it to you, if you’d like. Or not. That’s stupid isn’t it? Crap.”

     “No,” Alastair interrupted, and she felt the urge to crawl into a hole and never get out. He clarified, “I haven’t had the time to see it.”

     Relief washed over her. “Oh. So… would you like to accompany me?”

     He nodded. His brashness, she realised, was simply a much better cover for awkwardness than her stammering. 

     “Let’s go, then.”

- - -

     The restaurant really was lovely. 

     Less fancy than Alastair would’ve assumed was the taste of the Inquisitor’s daughter, which was a plus. They ordered their food and made a poor attempt at small talk.

     How Alastair found himself in this situation was a mystery. His only plan was to visit the Fairchild residence to check in on Charles. Nothing much had happened between them since the man’s injury; their relationship was now fragile, and any sudden move could shatter them. Not to mention the advisal against physical activities, sex included–he guessed that was the main reason Charles hadn’t made a move.

     But then, he’d found Ariadne Bridgestock at Anna Lightwood’s doorstep, with puffy eyes and a bag in hand. He saw the despair of a broken person in her eyes, the same he saw in the mirror every morning. He couldn’t bring himself to ignore her.

     An awkward silence had installed itself between them. 

     “You were crying,” Alastair said, giving up politeness. It wasn’t a question.

     Ariadne was silent for a moment, but when she spoke, her voice didn’t waver. “I was. Are you going to ask why?”

     “Do you want me to?”

     The answer came promptly. “Yes.”

     “Alright. Why were you crying?”   

     She told him everything, from the beginning. Her father’s absence, her mother’s concern, the papers she’d found in his office. Information about the Herondales and the Lightwoods, she said. Errors and problems so small, it was strange that the Inquisitor took interest in them. Alastair’s heart skipped a beat upon hearing the name Lightwood. He bit his tongue to avoid asking if there was something about Thomas.

     “And there’s more,” Ariadne said, withdrawing a sheet of paper from her coat and handing it to him. Its edges were burnt and much of it was illegible, but its contents were undeniable. “A blackmail letter.”

     Horror dawned on Alastair as he read it. 

     “I have not one guess as to who the target is,” Ariadne said, but Alastair barely heard it. 

     Aligned in our views–

     The secrets which you believe well hidden–

     Some people are sentimental–

     He felt sick. To think he was heading straight to him, completely unaware of this whole ordeal…  

     “Alastair? Are you okay?”

     His attention snapped away from the letter and he met her gaze, brown on brown. 

     “This letter was unsent, correct? Is there a chance your father didn’t go through with the blackmail?”

     “I’m pretty sure that’s an early draft. He must’ve sent a later version.”

      Alastair closed his eyes. “I think I know who this is for.”

     The waiter chose that moment to serve their food. He told her his theory while they ate. 

     He knew of Ariadne’s preference for women, and was positive she knew of him as well. There was no reason to be scared. Still, he spoke in a low voice, glancing around for eavesdroppers. He didn’t know how Bridgestock had found out about them, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

     When he was done, she was quiet for a moment. 

     “That makes a lot of sense,” she said, then frowned. “The Herondales and the Lightwoods are like family to Charles, aren’t they? Do you think he’d do that to them?”

     Alastair recalled the way Charles talked about his family. Charlotte was emotional and unreasonable; Henry, unambitious and shortsighted; Matthew, immature and shameful. He didn’t think Charles’ family held a privileged spot in his mind. 

     “Yes,” he answered simply.

     Ariadne nodded. “I believe you. Godamnit, Alastair. I’m so sorry. I have no idea how my father found out! It’s awful that he’s using your secret like that… quite ironic, too.”

     She chuckled, but it was bitter. Upon his questioning look, she elaborated, “My mother was very unhappy that I’d gone through Papa’s files. We got into an argument, and I lost my temper. So I told her. My secret, that is.”

     Alastair was filled with sympathetic dread. She narrated the events of the night, and his chest tightened further. The thought of his sweet mother doing the same to him… Ariadne had no idea how strong she was.

     “So I ran,” she concluded, staring down at her now empty plate. “I have nowhere to go, but I won’t go back. I refuse to.”

     She raised her chin, daring Alastair to doubt her. He didn’t, not for a second. He was convinced she could walk through fire if she put her mind to it. 

     “I understand that the last thing we want right now is a scandal,” Alastair said, “but you could come to my place. Until you have somewhere else to go, I mean.”

     Ariadne smirked. “I’m sure that would go well. ‘Yeah, I slept at Mr. Carstairs’ house, but it was not like that! You see, I actually like women, and he does not!’”

     That punched a surprised laugh out of Alastair. “That’s a good way to avoid a scandal,” he remarked, thinking briefly of his sister. “Just create another one.”

     She laughed, then stopped. Cautious hope lit up in her eyes, and she bit her bottom lip. “Nobody needs to know where I am. I doubt Mama would make my escape public anyway. So, if you were being serious, I would love to stay at your place. Thank you.”

     He nodded, still smiling. She had brought him a strange kind of levity. It was different than what he’d felt in the Sanctuary; that had been a dream, and like a dream it ended. Ariadne’s presence was different, grounding, easy. Weird, but not unpleasant. 

     They made their way to the Carstairs residence, a comfortable silence between them. Despite the tragedy surrounding their circumstances, he couldn’t shake the feeling something great had just begun.

I don't actually remember my taglist, so bear with me: @melanielocke @stxr-thxif @sheisbeautyweareworldass @cant-think-of-anything @littlx-songbxrd @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised @zaaharaa @alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer

#no I don't think sona would react like flora ok not at all #we love sona in this house #second fic of mine in which a character goes to alastair instead of their love interest #that's so powerful of me actually #ariadne bridgestock #alastair carstairs #kamala joshi #the last hours #chain of thorns #chain of thorns spoilers #chot spoilers

[pretzelpizzapuppy]

Silly doodle of the peepaw for @sonic-oc-showdown ! plus the oc questions thing under the read more :3

Name: Ignatius

Species: Domestic Cat

Home: He travels wherever the wind takes him!

✨ How did you come up with the OC’s name?

I think I just looked up like, old people names LOL I don’t remember for sure tho.

🧑‍🦳 How old are they?

He’s in his 60s!

💞 Do they have any love interests?

Ehh not anyone specifically! Might make him a husband eventually.

🥞 What is their favorite food?

Hmmm... Probably belgian waffles with far too many toppings.

💼 What do they do for a living?

He’s a freelance detective! Sort of. He’s supposed to be retired but it’s hard to keep him in place.

🏐 Do they have any hobbies?

He loves anything to do with puzzles! Puzzle games, actual puzzles, escape rooms, murder mystery media... He also enjoys beach sports like volleyball but it’s a bit hard on his body now. He also likes to bake and mix drinks. He’s a jack of all trades honestly, he’s quite restless.

🎯 What do they do best?

Solving mysteries of course! He’s also a pretty darn good cook, if you’ll allow him to toot his own horn.

🥊 What do they love? What do they hate?

His one true love is puzzles, if it’s not clear enough yet! He also loves the beach and relaxing in the sun! He dislikes dreary weather, feels it makes him far too serious and stern! He’s also not one for stuffy museums, he’d much rather be learning from communities themselves! He’s a very knowledge focused guy but enjoys the experience of learning from enthusiastic people rather than textbooks. He really enjoys watching older shows too! MASH and ST:TOS being among his favorites. Imagine those in the Sonic universe however you please LOL

📸 What is one of your OC’s best memories?

Hmm... really, he savors the feeling of helping people! Each and every person he’s helped is slotted into his brain like a polaroid!

✂️ What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

Yeesh, he’s too old to dwell on these things! If he kept track of every failed case and the homophobia and ableism he’s had tossed his way in life he’d have no time for the things he enjoys!

🏚️ Is their current design their first one?

Sure is! I tend to stick with designs once I make them. Little changes may happen here and there to make them easier for me to draw but typically, my designs stay the same! His fur pattern might be choppy or smooth depending on the amount of time I want to put into drawing it though LOL

🧠 What originally inspired this OC?

Sara was drawing Sonic OCs and I hadn’t ever really put the time into making one. So I sat down, grabbed a pelt pattern I liked, and took a LOT from Benoit Blanc from Knives Out. Someone in the tags of his poll said he’s got Columbo energy but I haven’t actually watched it so I can’t say for sure whether he carries those traits or not. My favorite color is purple so it tends to sneak into my designs. I made him about a month before the Sonic Murder Mystery game hilariously enough.

🎬 What genre do they belong in?

Mystery of course! Maybe comedy/mystery?

🏳️‍🌈 What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

Gay for sure, trans maybe? I haven’t decided for sure and I don’t think he’s the type to really care too much for labels for himself. He uses He/Him mostly but won’t go out of his way to correct people.

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 How many siblings does your OC have?

I haven’t really thought about it honestly. I’ll probably give him a sister. Feels right.

🧑‍🍼 What is the OC’s relations w/their parents like?

Not great. He was outed in his late teens and they. Did not react well. He already had a rough time from his undiagnosed autism and it never really got better. He’d liked to have improved things with them but he just... never really got around to it.

💜 What do you like most about the OC?

I just think he’s a silly guy :) I am pretty happy with his design too! I’m quite proud of how my skills have improved in that aspect.

🖍️ How often do you draw/write about the OC?

This is honestly the most I’ve done since making him LOL I work a full time job and my brain is more focused on Warriors atm tbh

🔪 Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

Oh absolutely not. I’m the type of guy who makes ocs for fun and to push them together like dolls! Maybe if I made him as a teen things would be different.

💀 Does your OC have any phobias?

Sort of? He’s got a lot of mental things going on about germs. Washes his hands a LOT and is very aware of just how much others don’t. Maybe snakes too since he’s a cat.

❤️‍🔥 Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

His own mind if truly his greatest enemy tbh. Turns out that constantly being on alert for clues can make you a little paranoid.

⏱️ How long have you had the OC?

According to discord, since January 17th, 2023!

#sonic oc

[lovemesomesurveys]

What's the most worthwhile thing you've done in the last year? Time spent with family, doing things I enjoy, and taking care of health related issues.

What foods make you want to gag? One is Canadian bacon. It's a texture thing.

Do you consider yourself to be organized? Not so much these days, but I used to be. I'd still like to be, but it's hard right now.

Have you ever made out with someone? Yeah.

What time do you get sleepy? I'm sleepy all day.

What music do you listen to? I like variety.

How old were you when you started to walk? I never got to that stage, I was a victim of a drive-by shooting at just 7 months old.

Which member of your family do you get along with the best? I get along with all my family, but I'm not close with all of them. I'm closest to my mom and younger brother.

What cheers you up when you're sad? I just kinda have to go through it. I'm kinda just a sad person.

What do you sleep in? An oversized tee.

Have you ever tanned topless? Nooo. I would absolutely not feel comfortable doing that. I don't even go tanning at all, really. I mean, if I'm at the beach I'll get some sun cause I spend several hours out there, but that's not what I'm there to do. I don't set out to tan, it's just a bonus. I just love the beach.

Wear jewelry? Yeah, but I had to take it off prior to surgery recently and I haven't put it back on, yet.

What's something you've been told you're good at? I've been told I'm a good writer.

How much can you eat? Not a lot, but it's enough for me. Like, I just had 4 rolled chicken tacos from Taco Bell and I'm full. I will say I've had more of an appetite lately and have been doing a lot more snacking.

What's the furthest away you've ever traveled? From California to Georgia.

Are you a cat or dog person? I'm a dog person.

Have you ever done drugs? Just weed.

What does your room look like? It's small and cluttered. I had to get a special hospital like bed that you can make sit up or lie down and it takes up more space than my old bed did. I also have a lot of medical supplies everywhere. Plus, there's an office chair we keep in here for my mom or whoever is chillin with me in my room. I also just have a lot of other stuff and my room is just too small.

Recommend a really amazing book. Depends what you like.

Recommend a really amazing song.

Recommend a really amazing movie. Not saying it's the most amazing movie ever, but I've been rewatching The Hunger Games movies before seeing the new one and I still think they're just as good as when I first saw them. I haven't rewatched them in a long time and I'm still a fan. It's not cringe at all like when I rewatched Twilight lmaoooo.

Who's your favorite actor/actress? Alexander Skarsgard.

Have you ever run away from home? No.

Do you exercise ever? I haven't done my arm exercises in awhile, I need to get back to that. I just recently spent 3 weeks in the hospital, so I lost some of my strength.

Do you like your hair, the way it is and the colour? No, I actually hate it. It's super short and choppy and has no style to it. It's all my natural color, too, which I'm not a fan of. I miss my long red hair D:

Do you have any friends named Baloo? Or is he just in the Junglebook? Uh, I've only ever heard that name in The Junglebook.

Are you a Disney movie fan? I love Disney.

Do you eat seafood? Noooo.

When was the last time you cried? Earlier today. I have those days/moments where I cry cause I mourn my old life and how some things used to be and I'm afraid because of my health it'll never be that way again.

Do you have good working habits? I don't work and I have no desire to work to be honest, but if I did I know I'd do my best and want to do well. I would definitely try.

So where the hell do you want to go in life? I don't know exactly, but I'm going the wrong direction right now that's for sure.

What are your boundaries? This is too deep right now.

What are some of the funniest things you can think of? >> predictably, I immediately forgot every funny thing I've ever encountered

What are two quirky little things about you? I don't know. I feel like that's something you'd have to ask someone who knows me well.

Are you claustrophobic? I can say with absolute certainty that I am. My MRI scans during my hospital stay recently confirmed yet again. It is HORRIBLE and I had to be sedated.

Do you like getting wasted? Blech, noooo. I stopped doing that 10 years ago and don't miss drinking at all. I don't even want to just have a drink or two, I want nothing to do with alcohol at all.

List three things that you look for in a friend. Someone I have stuff in common with, good sense of humor, and we just vibe, ya know?

Do you prefer Angels and Airwaves or Rhianna? .Rihanna.

What religion are you, if any? Christian.

If your house was on fire (and your family escaped), what would you save? .My family includes my doggo, so they're all safe and in that case I'd try to save whatever things of mine I could. I'd definitely have to get my meds, I'd want my phone, laptop, purse with my wallet, a hoodie... ugh it would be so hard cause obviously I'd want to save all my things but I just have too much.

Do you have any sash belts? No.

What do you have on right now? Include everything, nail polish, makeup, etc Undergarments, an oversized Barbie tee, a choker necklace.

Does caffeine make you hyper? Nope. It helps take some edge off, but otherwise it does nothing anymore. I just genuinely like coffee so I still drink it.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

[waitmyturtles]

Um, WOW, okay, ha -- I did NOT see an Ohm-and-Film fight scene happening in my lifetime. Thoughts on Double Savage, episode 7: 

1) I wrote this morning that I’m just beginning to dive into New Siwaj’s oeuvre, and I’m wondering for this screenplay, if New Siwaj is really New Siwaj-ing himself here. The writing in this episode was choppy at best. Vignette after vignette with not the most connective tissue. 

I’m not convinced by Win’s continued and growing intensity against Korn -- although I like that Korn finally talked back, but again, without context (unless he was commenting on Win’s sheer IDIOCY for flashing a gun at a funeral, which fucking makes TOTAL sense). 

We’re also not getting enough of WHY Rung would make such a drastic change in her life to go to the same life that Korn is living. Plus, she knows something about her parents that we don’t, I think, but that’s also not made entirely clear.

With that crazy-ass test at the end, along with the previews for episode 8, I am thinking that episode 7 can’t stand alone without episode 8 (Li taking care of Ah’s wound?! What?). Anyway. 

2) Back to Win for a second. Does he continue to spiral because of the pressures at work? He’s clearly NOT getting pressure from his (very good-looking, cough) superiors to, like, arrest his own brother. 

I’m trying to figure out if there’s supposed to be a parallel between Win’s temper and his father’s temper. A patriarchially-inspired temper, basically given unto a man through societal expectations and not through, say, merit or empathic love for his family.

I mean, in other words, Win’s fuckin’ it up left and right, but I honestly am not sure how convincing it is on screen. UNLESS -- because he’s written so choppily -- if he’s MEANT to come off as inconsistent and terribly weak, then THAT’S working. That’s REALLY working. (Again, this might be New New-ing himself -- using an unfamiliar order of operations to make a character look like a fucking lame ass.)

One thing that I can think of on Win’s part is that Win never HAD to learn how to control his temper, the way Korn had to, in order to survive during their childhood. Win received all the praise. We continue to see it in the previews for tomorrow’s episode. Win hasn’t learned self-control -- and we see it emanating.

3) You know what I liked the best of this episode? (Besides Film’s drip, which WE’LL GET TO IN A SECOND.) 

I liked that the mother finally, FINALLY SAID to Win: “But why are you acting like you don’t know why [Korn] chose [his way of life]?”

And petty Win retorts: “You’re taking his side like you’ve always done.”

Come awn, Win. Maybe THAT’S what’s missing for me.

Win clearly understood the trauma of what his family was facing when they were younger. I think I’m realizing that I don’t believe, convincingly, that Win has TOTALLY forgotten it. I wrote last week that what Win is the most influenced by, at this adult time of his life, is the extrasocial factor of jealousy that’s driving his worldview. 

But I appreciate his mom calling him out for straight-up FORGETTING that it was patriarchal ABUSE that caused all of this. His mom is like -- COME AWN. YOU KNOW THIS. And you used to love your brother so much.

And Win is like, aw, Ma, I’m a tired old man, wah wah, I’m going home.

Weak ass. I mean, again, if the writing is SUPPOSED to shape Win like this, then great job. But I think the writing (COME ON, NEW) could have been a lot sharper and more convincing. Perth is like, electric with talent in this and could have had a lot more to work with.

4) Quick note on Korn. Korn’s failing in life is that he lacks subtlety, and I think Ah is taking advantage of it. Korn would be a much smarter and wiser person -- and maybe he’s gonna get there with Rung back at his side -- if he could be more sophisticated about the life he’s living and the illegal things he’s doing. He’s still holding onto a child’s black-and-white perspective, like almost everyone else around him (EXCEPT Ah, Mek, and Rung) -- and I wonder if his maturing into the gray is going to be a storyline for the rest of the series.

5) I have thoughts on the Asian compulsions for saving face and playing the blame game vis à vis Korn’s father, but I might save those for tomorrow -- I’ve been crazy writing the last couple of days. Let me just say this about Korn’s dad, and that interaction they had in the apartment. 

I understood it all. Very unfortunately. As HORRIBLY as that dad has treated Korn for the entirety of Korn’s life, I understood why Korn continued to help his dad, even when his dad went silent. I have that filial piety guilt on me every minute of every day. 

Seeing the dad shed a tear was a touch of karmic satisfaction, but it didn’t make me happy. Ugh. It was painful to watch. 

6) Let’s appreciate Film’s leather-and-eyeliner era. And those CARGO SWEATPANTS! And MOCK TURTLENECK gym shirt! I will submit a request to GMMTV to please get Film some muscle tees and a strength trainer, because I’d like to see some poppin’ biceps on my girl. I LOVE YOU, FILM, I LOVE YOU SOOOOOOO MUCH.

7) Finally, I just want to note that I have previously loved Foei in the few shows of his that I’ve watched on GMMTV (most notably Dirty Laundry, which I was obsessed with; his work in 10 Years Ticket, and the few episodes of Midnight Museum that I watched), and I’m really fucking horrified and disappointed by his social media behavior this weekend.

#double savage #double savage the series #double savage meta #ohmperth #ohm pawat #perth tanapon #film rachanun #korn x rung #rung x korn

[krystaldeath]

Hmm…how about the Traffic Light Trio having a sleep over? Like, what would they do, who’s house would they stay in and how would the parents feel about it (depending on where they are of course)?

I’m gonna assume this was meant for my BBU au and if it wasn’t I hope you don’t mind I’m going with that (Also this got… way longer than it shouldve so I’m gonna put it under a read more)

I imagine Mei and Red had sleepovers with just the two of them growing up, usually at Red’s place bc Mei’s parents didn’t want two children running around their priceless artifacts and such. When MK joins its especially not happening at Mei’s place, and since I don’t think MK, Pigsy & Tang have a very big living space (probably an apartment that just barely fits the three of them), they’d probably still be at Red’s.

Mei’s parents don’t exactly care much about what happens since they’re not gonna be there, but they do give Mei tons of rules and give her lectures on how to act when she’s staying over at a non-family members house (which she only half listens to).

PIF, while a bit wary of Mei (her great xhowever many times it’s takes to be correct grandfather was friends to the guy who imprisoned her husband, and while that’s a rather remote connection, still stings a bit) at first, and then MK later on, the two grow on her and so she’s happy to host them. It also gives her the opportunity to tell embarrassing baby stories about Red to his two closest friends!

Pigsy is always nervous about letting his boy be out of his sight and being unable to immediately check on him, but Tang soothes his worries. Their son may be a tad but reckless at times, but he can handle himself! He’s got two dependable friends with him as well! And that mom of Red’s would never let any harm come to any children in her presence (supposedly) so there’s really nothing to worry about! (MK doesn’t get to have any sleepovers for a while after the day he came home with a choppy new haircut courtesy of Mei, and then Red who insisted they could fix it/make it better)

As for what they’d do, probably play a ton of video games! MK would want to watch Monkey Cop and other such Monkey King franchises, but since they normally have sleepovers at Red’s… yeah that’s not happening. It’s okay though they just watch a Power Rangers-like show (that ends up having a arc based off of JTTW that they almost break the tv trying to hide from PIF; she knows and feels conflicted about it, though if she leaves the room quickly so the kids can fully enjoy themselves, no one would have to know).

Bonus: When they get closer to Bai He they have her join them too (which terrifies her monkey dads bc 1. She’s only ever been out of their reach for 9 hours tops before and 2. It’s gonna be at PIF’s place and she is BOUND to figure something out). When Wukong (Macaque had to do something idk maybe he has a job) comes by in a human disguise to pick her up the next morning, PIF gives him a knowing look, then tells the teens to watch the girl as she has a “private talk” with him and has him walk with her through the house. He’s terrified she’s gonna try and fight him and that it’ll somehow get the kids caught up in the crossfire and that he’ll have to reveal he’s the Monkey King and have Bai He never interact with any of them again, but instead the unthinkable happens. She tells him she doesn’t hate him, not anymore. She figured it was the right thing to do, DBK was terrorizing citizens and he is expected to protect mankind; it also couldn’t have been an easy decision for him, considering he and her husband once considered each other brothers. Plus, holding a grudge for centuries can be rather exhausting when you’re a single mother. So, until she finds some way to free her love, they will have a truce. ———— Help the “Bonus” is longer than the actual answers so sorry lol

#lego monkie kid #bonds that bind us au #bbu au #lmk traffic light trio #traffic light trio #should I tag the ships?? that are implied bc they’re parents?? #Nah it’s fine #word heavy #my posts

[petsdogworld]

Walking your dog with the best stroller for dog walking is a great way to bond with them and get some fresh air, but sometimes they need a little extra help. Whether it's because they're getting older or just can't keep up with your pace, having the right stroller can make all the difference. Small dogs, senior dogs, and dogs with movement difficulties are ideal candidates for dog strollers, but dogs of all ages and sizes can enjoy a wheel-powered adventure. With so many options on the market, it can be difficult to know where to start. But fear not, because we've done the research for you and have found the best stroller for dog walking. In this blog post, we'll take a closer look at why these strollers are the best choice for you and your pet. So, get ready to unleash adventure and take your dog walking to the next level! What is the Most Effective Dog Stroller? Small, aged, or injured dogs may not be able to walk for extended periods of time. This is not a valid reason to leave them at home! With the greatest dog strollers, you can bring your furry companion on all of your excursions. We have compiled a list of the top dog strollers for your convenience. Depending on your dog's size and the intended use of the stroller, here are our top recommendations. The Best Stroller For Dog Walking To Buy In 2023 We investigated the best dog strollers and hand-selected few models. Our picks for the Best Dog Strollers are as under: Gen7 Regal Plus Pet Stroller Pet Gear No-Zip Happy Trails Lite Pet Stroller BestPet Pet Stroller Petique All-Terrain Jogger 1- Gen7 Regal Plus Pet Stroller [amalinkspro type="image-link" asin="B00C2LKMYO" new-window="true" apilink="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00C2LKMYO?tag=pdw2021-20&linkCode=osi&th=1&psc=1" img-size="500,500" addtocart="false" nofollow="true" alt="Gen7Pets Regal Plus Dog Stroller - Gray Shadow Pet Stroller" alignment="aligncenter"]https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/41NJSyj0HWL._SL500_.jpg[/amalinkspro] [amalinkspro type="cta-btn-css" ctabtn-id="" asin="" apilink="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00C2LKMYO?tag=pdw2021-20&linkCode=osi&th=1&psc=1" addtocart="false" new-window="true" nofollow="true" alignment="aligncenter"]View on Amazon[/amalinkspro] We chose the Gen7 Pet Stroller as the best dog stroller overall because it is the ideal blend of the features that pet parents often want in a dog stroller. According to reviews, the Gen7 Pet Stroller is of high quality construction. While some pet stroller construction can be time-consuming and confusing, this stroller's assembly is a breeze! The Gen7 Pet Stroller accommodates pets up to 25 pounds in weight. Its compact size and light weight make it highly maneuverable. It compresses simply to fit in your car's trunk. Customers rave about the ride's comfort for their dogs. The Gen7 Pet Stroller's front wheel swivels a full 360 degrees, unlike other pet strollers may have front wheels that are difficult to move and cause a choppy ride. The primary complaint about the stroller relates to its design. The original version of this dog stroller featured a tray with cupholders, but the updated version has substituted a fabric pouch for the tray. 2- Pet Gear No-Zip Happy Trails Lite Pet Stroller [amalinkspro type="image-link" asin="B09BBT9JHR" new-window="true" apilink="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09BBT9JHR?tag=pdw2021-20&linkCode=osi&th=1&psc=1" img-size="476,500" addtocart="false" nofollow="true" alt="Pet Gear No-Zip Happy Trails Lite Pet Stroller for Cats/Dogs, Zipperless Entry, Easy Fold with Removable Liner, Safety Tether, Storage Basket + Cup Holder, 4 Colors" alignment="aligncenter"]https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/51YW1huMJRL._SL500_.jpg[/amalinkspro] [amalinkspro type="cta-btn-css" ctabtn-id="" asin="" apilink="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09BBT9JHR?tag=pdw2021-20&linkCode=osi&th=1&psc=1" addtocart="false" new-window="true" nofollow="true" alignment="aligncenter"]View on Amazon[/amalinkspro]

The Pet Gear No-Zip Happy Trails Lite Pet Stroller is neither cumbersome nor difficult to manage or store, unlike other dog strollers. Our top selection for the lightest dog stroller can carry dogs weighing up to 25 pounds, yet it weighs only 11.5 pounds! This stroller does not require you to struggle with zippers to get your dog in and out. The Pet Gear stroller's zipper-less design makes it simple to swiftly and safely place and remove your dog from the stroller. Reviewers of this stroller disagree on a few of the negative aspects. Some believe it is difficult to fold, while others say it is simple; one reviewer even produced a video demonstrating its simplicity. Many people assert that the front wheels are unstable. However, according to one reviewer, this is due to improper assembly; when the wheels are placed properly, they will not wobble. Consider these disadvantages with a grain of salt. With over 3,000 5-star ratings on Amazon, the majority of customers believe the positives outweigh the cons. 3- BestPet Pet Stroller [amalinkspro type="image-link" asin="B016W5SI5U" new-window="true" apilink="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B016W5SI5U?tag=pdw2021-20&linkCode=osi&th=1&psc=1" img-size="500,500" addtocart="false" nofollow="true" alt="BestPet Pet Stroller Cat Dog Cage Stroller Travel Folding Carrier,Black" alignment="aligncenter"]https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/41qnJMARowL._SL500_.jpg[/amalinkspro] [amalinkspro type="cta-btn-css" ctabtn-id="" asin="" apilink="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B016W5SI5U?tag=pdw2021-20&linkCode=osi&th=1&psc=1" addtocart="false" new-window="true" nofollow="true" alignment="aligncenter"]View on Amazon[/amalinkspro] Need a trustworthy pet stroller but cannot spend more than $100? It is one of the best budget pet stroller. The BestPet Stroller, available on Amazon, is our recommendation for the most affordable dog stroller. This is a reliable stroller for your basic needs so long as you stay on smooth, paved areas, as the plastic wheels cannot handle uneven terrain well. This stroller can accommodate dogs up to 25 pounds in weight. According to customer reviews, two small pets can fit inside comfortably. The stroller's footprint is significantly smaller than that of many bulkier dog strollers, and consumers love how effortlessly it fits anywhere they need to go. Also Read : Best Dog Stroller For Jogging 4- PETIQUE All Terrain Jogger-Sailboat Pet Stroller [amalinkspro type="image-link" asin="B076B83R2J" new-window="true" apilink="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B076B83R2J?tag=pdw2021-20&linkCode=osi&th=1&psc=1" img-size="500,500" addtocart="false" nofollow="true" alt="PETIQUE All Terrain Jogger-Blazin' Berry Pet Stroller, Blazin' Berry, One Size (JG01100103)" alignment="aligncenter"]https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/51KEopTAo3L._SL500_.jpg[/amalinkspro] [amalinkspro type="cta-btn-css" ctabtn-id="" asin="" apilink="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B076B83R2J?tag=pdw2021-20&linkCode=osi&th=1&psc=1" addtocart="false" new-window="true" nofollow="true" alignment="aligncenter"]View on Amazon[/amalinkspro] Consider the Petique All-Terrain Jogger if you plan on walking or jogging with your dog stroller on more rugged terrain. This sturdy stroller boasts big bike tires for greater grip and shock absorption, resulting in a pleasant ride for your dog on any surface, making it our top pick for the Best All-Terrain dog stroller. This stroller can accommodate larger dogs than many smaller strollers. The Petique Jogger can accommodate dogs up to 60 pounds. Some reviewers with smaller dogs found the stroller to be back-heavy, and some even reported that it toppled backward. If you have a little pet, you should consider this. The Petique Jogger is a worthwhile investment for people who want to walk and jog with their dog on a variety of terrains, despite being more expensive than most other strollers we tested. Finding the Ideal Dog Stroller There are numerous dog strollers on the market, making it difficult to choose the finest one.

Consider the following factors while looking for the Best Stroller for Dog Walking. 1- Capacity Ensure that your dog's weight falls within the stroller's weight range. This will be simple for tiny dog breeds, but it may be more challenging for medium or large dogs. Examine the inner dimensions of the stroller as well. Some dogs are under the weight restriction of a stroller, but cannot fit comfortably due to their length or height. 2- Security Measures Look for a stroller with a leash that can be attached to your dog's collar or harness. Because a dog that jumps out of a moving stroller could cause severe injury, these clips should always be utilized. Consider brakes and safety clips to prevent the stroller's zippers from opening while you're moving. 3- Superiority of Materials If you just intend to use your pet stroller on occasion, you may be willing to spend a little less money on a stroller constructed of less expensive materials. However, if you intend to use your stroller frequently, you must purchase one constructed of high-quality materials. Although it may be tempting to get the least priced stroller, a more expensive stroller will be a better value because it will not need to be replaced soon. 4- Wheel Type Dog strollers include a variety of wheel styles. There are miniature plastic wheels and enormous bicycle tires. How you want to utilize the stroller will dictate the sort of wheels you require. If the wheels will be used on sidewalks, plastic should suffice. On the other hand, larger tires are required if you intend to walk on tough terrain. Also Read : Best Car Seat For Small Dogs Conclusion The ideal dog stroller for you will depend on your budget, the size of your dog, and the terrain you will be using it on. Overall, we like the Gen7 Regal Plus Pet Stroller, but any of our top options could be ideal for you and your dog! In this article we had tried to find the best Stroller for Dog Walking for our readers. If you feel to share some of your thoughts, do lets us know. https://petsdogworld.com/best-stroller-for-dog-walking/?feed_id=1095&_unique_id=657a179b49580 #bestdogstrollerforwalking #dogstrollerforwalking

#Stroller #bestdogstrollerforwalking #dogstrollerforwalking

[shawnjacksonsbs]

Dwelling isn't helping. 4-8-23

“Before you know it, they're spending as much or more time away as they are at home. As they increasingly choose the company of their peers, you cease to be the center of their universe. Before long, they begin to doubt your intelligence and resent your input in their lives. And then, one day, they're gone for. . .busy figuring out who they want to be.” – Dr. Richard Carlson

It's always easier to convince others if you believe it yourself. The wisdom of a former bullshitter. I was confident in my ignorance.

But I feel like I never actually looked ignorant or overly confident.

Reactions from others fed my bullshit.

It wasn't until years later, looking in my mirror that I saw that ignorance shining bright in all its undignified glory like a beacon too bright to deny.

My confidence switched gears to, and for the things I felt instead of what was on the surface, or whatever clever shit I could think to say.

It's more about being real and looking for the right questions.

And just being the me I could have always been.

Thinking about my kids lately, especially with some of the drama from inside my own house . . .again. lol

I think a lot about the ones out in the world that are doing fairly well that I don't get to see often, and the ones that are still lost in struggle out there, that I wish I could be more involved with as well.

(Most of my attention these days seems to center around their littles), it's hard to balance seeing any of them as much as I'd like.

Granted, I am living close enough now to keep my place at events, parties, and just my position as the elder head of the family.

Even as I write it's hard for me to articulate exactly the way the thoughts are in my head about negligent, or lost time with them, as well as missing time now.

I get how growing up comes with the emptying of the nest transition, but I wish I was . . .more for them, in ways that are more important than just being an example after showing up late to serve it to them.

I love my kids, and I miss them too. But the end game result is still the same as what I've always wanted for them, and that's that not only are they making it on their own, in their own positive ways, but, and this is most important, that they are happy, kind, and grateful.

I try not to criticize, although it's hard as a parent, especially when most of their struggles, currently, are by their own hand.

We all have to find balance for our own lives, obviously, and try to just cherish the limited times we get with each other.

I'm just grateful I get to be in their lives at all.

Plus, it ain't all bad making up for lost hugs by giving them to their kids. Lol

This entry took a kind of a weird turn somewhere, but it's evidently what needed to spill out.

My kids . . .too . . .very much too.

We'll know by how our attention is met whether it's quality and quantity or not.

These are the days where gratitude lists spoken out loud throughout the day, comes in pretty handy. Lol

Also, I don't know how I'm going to do it, or how it will be received, but the book I've chosen for Pawpaw's Storytime gave me a mild Fred Rogers inspiration, completely on accident. Lol

That's it, I guess for this week.

I'm might leave this a little choppy, although it is a day or two before it's to be posted so I might edit.

Time will tell. Lol

Be kind to each other, and share your love and your laughter with your kids. Try not to dwell, except about the good times and shared successes.

Until next week;

“All of this is natural. It's the way it's supposed to be. Each step forward takes them closer to life apart from you. If you don't live in and love the time you have . . .with your kids, you forever miss one of the richest experiences life offers.” - Dr. Richard Carlson

[xsapphirescrollsx]

Creamsicle

Written:  02 Jul 2020

Pairing: Black Female Reader x Robert Pronge; Black Female Reader x dark! Andy Barber

Summary:  Set in 1980s, you are a nurse with a peculiar side job.

B-day gift for my bff @titty-teetee​

Somewhere in New Jersey 1984

Alleyways appeared like musky, dank, dark traps. Tall buildings with narrow passages lurked for you to stop long enough to sink you into what awaited. It had been days, caffeine fueled hours upon hours of staying awake. To stay aware, to be on your feet at a moment's notice. It took skill, that you honed, and passion, that fed the murky abyss within. Murder was your obsession, and it had turned into a habit that paid well.

But now, you were seeing things. Had to be, tree limbs slapped the pale yellow street lamps sketching figures along the sidewalk. The shadows looked like knives, the bulk of the smooth casts appeared as long blades serrated or short ones, for quick delivery of the eventual end of a life.

You rubbed hard on your eyes, squinted into the dark and held your duffel bag closer to your rushing beating heart.

Gotta get home, gotta make it out, your mind chanted.

You had handled worse, been through revolting things, so you paid your surroundings a never mind and kept walking. And that was a mistake. Half past midnight, on the seeder side of the city made for an interesting set of characters. Strangers drifted in and out of the black of the alleys as you passed along the street. Your mind was focused on other events, it was concentrating on the task you had just perfected.

You were elated, even with the burden of fatigue.

And with that dark joy still humming in your head, you were snatched off the street. A man yanked you in, he swung you by the arm into the nearest brick wall.  The back of your head impacted the grimy stone causing your eyes to shake in their sockets. Filthy lips pressed against the side of your face as you rolled your head away.

When you fought back he slammed you harder, more violent back into the wall. After that, your memory was choppy. Blackness filled your eyes and you were at the mercy of the streets.

You awoke to a man holding your face and pawing at your clothes. You fought him too. Being discovered, realized was the biggest fear you had. So you hit him with a tight fist, but nothing really landed.

“Hey, calm the fuck down lady.” he griped and you took another swipe at his face. “Okay, alright have it your way then. But your fucking dress is up over your tits. Everybody plus Christ can see those chocolate drops.”

You shuddered when the wind swept over your body. The stink of the street, garbage and shit covered your senses. Bruised and hurt you haphazardly began to right the dress around your breasts while straining to get a bearing on your surroundings.

You hurt, deeply. A horrible cramp clashed up the sides of your thighs as you sat upon your knees.

“Jesus, you look like hell.” said the man.

You didn’t look up at him. Your eyes crawled over the shitty paved alley floor for your bag. It wasn’t there. Oh, shit. Panic rushed through your veins and you attempted to stand only to fall back down.

“Fuck,” hissed the man. “Let me help you.”

You scowled at him, eyed him from head to toe but didn’t take in much about it at first. So you let him help, at least he was better than what was out there. He was surprisingly gentle despite the tone of his voice. He held you around the back while his other hand gripped your wrist, cocooning you in warmth. The day had arrived, but gray skies held back the sun. He walked you out of the alley, and even still you weren’t sure if he or this was real. But as your head lobbed to the side you stared at him. His warm hand held you closer as his eyes darted back and forth along the street. The scent of sweet cream, and sour on his beige jacket was faint but you still picked it up.

You managed a faint, feeble whisper around swollen lips, “Thank you.”

He gave you an aggravated nod and then directed you further.

“Thank me when I can get your goddamn blood outta my uniform. What kid wants to buy ice from a man with blood on his sleeve?”

Your reddened eyes, blurry and shaking, turned back to see a large truck. It was plastered with images of ice cream that kids loved. He directed you to the back, he opened the hatch and suddenly you were hit by cool air falling from the interior.

“Get in, I know someone around the corner here that can help you.” he said and helped you lift yourself up into the inside. “No cops.” he added and joined you, slamming the door shut.

“Unless, that’s what you want?” he asked.

A small space, made even tinier by two, you hobbled to the counter furthest from the sliding window. You shook your head furiously. “No..no pigs.” You said hoarsely.

“Good,” he said, with his middle finger he pushed his glasses back over the bridge of his nose. You leaned back against the cool surface of the truck and stared at the man. His face ducked in and out of focus as you slowly slid down to the floor.

He grumbled something under his breath and stepped over to the serving window before returning to you. He straddled your legs and then squatted down as he rolled a damp cloth within the palm of his hand.

You watched him seemingly watch you back. His eyes drifted down your face, over the lumps and scrapes around your lips, to the gash at the base of your throat.

The man licked his lips, tongue softly skirted the edge of his bushy mustache. Finally he glanced at your hands, broken nails and all.

“-Put up a fight, huh?” he asked quietly. You said nothing, your mouth was dry, tongue thick in your mouth you shrugged instead. The man put a knee down and leaned over into what looked like a deep rectangular freezer. He rummaged a minute, he unwrapped something and threw the plastic somewhere on top.

When he returned back to you, he held out a long orange ice cream, smoky with cold and thrust it towards you to take.

“I’m Robert.” he said as you took it. “Kids around here call me Mr. Freezy.”

A slick back haired man, smooth skin impaired by a series of scars dotting his cheek clicked the heel of his loafer.

“Eh, thanks for the tip.” said the man. With a permanent, up-to-no-good expression he tossed the cream colored folder over to you.

“Why do they call you Sunshine?” he asked in a thick surly tone.

The representative for the local gun running mob demanded attention. But you ignored his question and picked up the folder. Another man, shorter and fatter, walked around the corner, into the small room you currently occupied. “She kills at night.” he heckled. “Brings the glory of a new day only to take it from’em.” he laughed.

The first man scoffed, shoved his hands into the pockets of his polyester slacks. “It doesn’t look like she can do-”

“Big Top isn’t going to kill himself. So do you want my assistance or not? ” you cut the first man off and then glared at the second, who gave you a curt nod.

You pulled your eyes off him and opened the folder.

“The last one got you pretty good huh?” asked the second man with a petty flare in his tone. Obviously he was eyeing the bruise around your cheek, and the lined scab splitting your bottom lip.

You wanted to pop off  a smart-ass scoff as you etched the face and name of the person on the piece of paper. But then you remembered what happened after the last job. That went off without a hitch, clean, precise...you just let your guard down after. Shitty.

“Nope, I got this from my mother,” you laughed and tossed the closed folder back on the table. “She has a hell of a right arm.”

Your day time job was, for lack of a better word, repulsive. Plunging your hands back into the sink you could smell yourself. Sweaty, musty with the smell of hospital seeping out of your pores.

A nurse. A fucking great nurse. But would the administration recognize it? You yanked out a ball of paper towels to dry your hands and caught your reflection in the mirror.

“Nope,” you said to yourself with the pop of your lips.

Chunking the paper into the bin you walked over to your locker to grab your purse. End of shift, end of a work week, finally, and you swung on the strap over your jacket and walked out of the break room.

You passed the last guard on your way out of the double glass doors without much on your mind. A chilly breezy hit you while admiring the setting sun, your time to shine, and was met with a sight right out of your memories. Robert, the man with the ice cream truck, walked toward you while pulling the lip of his thin jacket up around his neck.

“Hey.” he said. “How are ya,” He scratched his fuzzy hairy chin while flicking a finger your way.

“How the fuck do you know where I work?” Your words come out rough around the edges, accusatory and hostel but he seemed to take it in stride. Robert’s long stringy hair was pulled back away from his neck, he gazed at you through the dirty lens of his glasses and smiled.

“Just came to check up on ya.” he said as the wind died down. Robert gave you a weak wave with his left hand while the other held the jacket at his neck. “Hey, can you eat?” he asked.

The grate near you burped up stale air from the subway as you checked out the traffic of the main street. You rolled your eyes and stared back at him.

“I guess.” you said, still eyeing him carefully.

Later that night..

“I swear to God-- his fucking eyes were as big as donuts.” cackled Robert, he bit down on the cigarette between his teeth and scooted in closer. You didn’t press him away or pull away either. The last hour he spoke little of what he did for a living, and focused more on you. That was rare. It was different than most around here, so you let this mysterious man keep his secrets, for now.

Robert’s thighs nestled against the back of your stool and your knee as he breathed in hard. He pulled the cigarette out as he spoke. “Big as fucking donuts,” he exhaled the pearl colored smoke, slow, passed the side of your head.

He was the complete opposite of the man of your dreams. He was cruddy as he sat there and smiled like a shark about to devour its prey, with leftover crumbs falling off his beard. No feeling there in his eyes, dangerous, ya that was the word for the current feeling channeling through you as he leaned in further. He was rough, frayed for sure in appearance, but you didn’t mind. You ignored it, and thought parts of him were even cute.

He suddenly snapped to and snuffed his cigarette out on what was left of your hot dog.

“What’d ya say we get out of here,” he said.

You swallowed the last of your coke and put the cup down on the table. You shrugged, blithely grinned, while his hand behind made its way up the valley of your spine.

Robert leaned in closer, tipping the stool forward on two rickety legs. “-Come on,” he chided, “Let’s have a little fun.”

Something about him was irresistible, bilious and hostile, but honest and it was seductive.

He didn’t even make it to his place before Robert pulled off on a side street between a deli and a laundry. You glanced around confused as he stood up after putting it in park. He shoved the keys into his pocket and grabbed you by the hand.

“This can’t wait,” he mumbled under his breath. He knocked open the gate partitioning the back of the truck from the front and guided you inside.

He was all about the moment, whether it was planned or not he ceased upon it. He ignored your gasp and shoved you on top of the nearest deep freezer. Panting already, he tugged at the edges of your dress uniform. It concerns you, his intimidating behavior, but it slid away with the sensation of his tongue slipping into your mouth.  Tasting like smoke and pickle relish Robert tore through your hose. He scraped his smooth beard over your chin, nudged more urgently with his lips upon. No one had ever tasted you like this, fascinated by his lack of patience you responded heatedly by swirling yours with his.  

By the time you wrapped your arms around his shoulders he was in you. Thick, rough fingers pushed into you without remorse. And when you yelped he chuckled low under his breath and slithered a third finger inside of you.

“That’s it girl,” he smiled, “Let me fill this cunt.”

You kissed him again and strained to stay focused on the pendulum swing of sensations in your belly. The push and pull, the need and resisting of satisfaction made you grimace in want. Your hips thrust forward as you clung to his shoulders.

And just when you felt it, the climax coming to an end Robert’s low voice tunneled through your head.

“This pussy got raped in the alley didn’t?” he drawled low and swiped over your clit. Your eyes shot open. Robert wasn’t smiling, dark bottomless eyes stared back at you.

He curled his fingers, pulling a long moan from your throat. “It did, didn’t it?” he asked again and fucked you harder with his fingers.

Your eyes grew wider with his increasing depravity. Finally he smiled, wicked and demeaning, your arms dropped from his neck and palmed the top of the freezer to get away.

“Oh no, you’re not going anywhere little girl.” he whispered dangerously. Robert pulled his fingers from you, he grabbed the back of your neck pulling you in closer. His other hand fumbled his belt, his button, finally his zipper while he wrangled your hips back to his.

Before he had a chance to really get a hold, you slapped him across the face. He matched you by back handing you into a dizzying sob. He let go of your neck, jerked your entrance back to him and his hard cock standing at attention. You clawed at his arm when it returned but he didn’t stop.

Robert was committed now. He sank into your wet slit and forced your legs over his arm as he clasped his fingers behind your neck. He mashed you into a compact form, legs waving with every pump, your head and neck at a breaking angle he took you.

“Does he feel bigger than me?” he asked angrily.

When you didn’t speak he smacked you again until you did.

“Who?” your voice gurgled out.

“I’m not fucking stupid,” Robert’s hand quickly went back  to the nape of your neck and knotted his fingers tightly.

“The bad man, baby.” He grunted.  “Did he fill you up like this?” Robert moaned as he stepped closer to ram into you harder.

“Did he dump his load?” he panted.

Your hands finally moved to his shoulders and tried to push him off. It didn’t work either and only seemed to drive him to handle you harder. Robert’s fingers slipped around into a strangling hold. His eyes bore into you, urging you to play along in his sick game.

He rattled your head with a sharp shake. “Answer me,” he threatened. His voice was low and perilous, and it sat inside you.

Fuzzy thoughts floated around your air deprived brain. He was deep, sloshing your wetness and disrupting your attempts to resist the growing feeling.

Carelessly you swiped at his arms to lessen the hold. “Don’t chicken out now,” he said through grinding teeth.

He shook you violently and forced you to take the last inches of him without recourse. “Now, fucking answer me bitch,” he demanded.

An unrestrained whimper tumbled from your lips as you struggled to speak. “You’re bigger…” you groaned.

You clenched around him, sinfully, and watched him savor your answer by rolling his eyes back and shutting his lids. He grinded into you harder rubbing against your clit. One minute you were scared out of your mind and the next an explosion of pleasure burst from your battered cunt.

Robert opened his eyes and stared at you with his glasses sliding down to the tip of his nose.

“I’m going to cum in you.” he hissed the threat between his teeth. “Now you’ll be my filthy whore.”

Robert bent over, your legs spread wide for him,  thumping harder, deeper into you. His eyes never left yours as he hoisted himself up with a knee on the edge of the freezer. He forced your head into an unnatural angle as he pressed it between the freezer and the wall. He fucked you hard, relentlessly as he watched your expression of shock and shame.

“Pretty girl,” he rasped on a breath. “You’re my whore now, no one else -- do you hear me?”

“I fuck this cunt from now on. It belongs to me...I claimed it.”

His slimy tongue slid out between white shiny teeth and his fuzzy beard. “I fuck this cunt,” he whispered close to your lips.

Despite your pitiful whimpering noises, Roberts hips shuddered against you and stalled out completely as he buried himself. He groaned low and turned into a raging extended growl. He convulsed with short, sharp thrusts as his mouth hung open.

“Fuuuck…” he stuttered out between jerks. “God, fuck, damn.” he moaned.

Robert released your throat, his clammy hands held himself up on the surface of the freezer. You tried to pull yourself up with his softening cock still inside of you. But Robert only smiled down at you, he pushed his glasses back up with a finger and chuckled.

“You’ve got a fucking great pussy,” he complimented.

Pushing on his chest he finally slid out of you and staggered back while tucking his wet cock back into his pants.

“That wasn’t a fucking lie,” he announced. He zipped up his pants and watched you hobble off the freezer. And when you looked back at him he shook his finger at you.

“You’re fucking mine.” he reminded with a satisfied smile. “Don’t fucking forget it.”

Your heart raced as the head rolled off the bed with a squishy slap and thump. The room smelled like iron and freshly severed skin, you stood back, completely naked and observed your hard work, with a crooked smile.

You teetered the ax between slick bloody hands and turned its sharp end down to the soaked carpet. Dry lips skimmed under your tongue while laboring breaths puffed out of your chest. You looked down at the top of the man’s still twitching, still bleeding body.

Vacant eyes stared up at you in a last expression of terror.

Without much more thought of who he had been and why he had to die you leaned the ax to the side of the bed. You grabbed a thick plastic black bag from underneath the mattress. Stepping carefully, lightly, you lifted the head by the crown of wiry gray hair and junked it in. You twisted it up, knotted the end and placed it into your duffel bag.

Not much emotion passed over your expression, indifference was one thing. But what you had evolved way surpassed the disregard for life, this was a job. And like a job, you played your part- muscle memory, a skill of knowing when and how to wrap it up was something you excelled at.

After you finished washing your body in the shower you made quick work of scrubbing the motel room down. The doorknobs, the bathroom, the ax, you grabbed your old clothes and placed them in a separate plastic bag.

That’s when you saw flashing lights, glowing in the seal of the window from five stories down.  The cold streak of fear of being caught went straight to your head. Don’t panic, you told yourself. This was the shitty side of town, it could have been for any reason they were there.

You didn’t bother to look out the window. You picked up the bag, grabbed a fresh cloth and used it to open the door. It wasn’t until you were half way down the hall toward your own room that the cops came barreling down the hallway.

Damn, maybe the target had been louder than you thought? And how did they get here so fucking fast?

Inches away from the knob of your motel door, you pressed your body and the bag into the hallway wall, all the while, slowly sliding toward your escape. Slinking in, you shut it quick and leaned against it. And for the first time in a while, you prayed that your face was as forgettable as the world made you feel.

Banging rattled behind you. Shaking up the tension crawling up your back you stepped away from the door. Another round of knocks and you hurriedly placed the bag into the nearby closet. You ruffled your hair, squeezed and twisted your thin blouse to make it look like you had just got up.

Slowly you answered the door while wiping your eyes tiredly. Cracking it to the face of a thin white man, short wisps of ash brown hair poked out around his cap.

“Pardon the--” the man began, his eyes floated over the state of your hair and clothes. “-for the intrusion. Sorry to wake you. I need to ask you some questions.”

You didn’t open the door further and simply nodded. “I don’t know anything.” you sleepily croaked.

The cop stood up straighter, pulling all that staunch righteous in, at the fact of being denied. Never taking his eyes off you he cleared his throat. “There’s been a murder four doors away from you. I’m going to need your information.”

“No.” you said quickly and attempted to shut the door in his face. But the cop caught the edge.

“I’m trying to be nice here.” he bared his teeth as he spoke.  “Give me your name and address now. “

The vaguely threatening tone had you nodding. “Fine.” you said and he stepped back, he pulled out a small pad and wrote down your name and address quickly.

Before he could say “We’ll be in touch,” you slammed the door in his face.  

One of the most powerful men in the district crossed the busy street. He ignored the shuffle of on-coming cars, in fact, he strode right in front of crawling traffic. A homeless man jangled a cup as he set foot on the sidewalk, he bullshitted a quick no and then walked into the hospital like he owned it.

It wasn’t hard to spot the admissions station. A tight lipped smirk curved the corner of his lips as he unbuttoned the hounds tooth bazer and dipped his hands into khaki slacks. He demanded the whereabouts of the witness haphazardly scribbled on a napkin. He flashed his badge when it looked like the woman behind the tall counter hesitated. When she still dared not to tell him, he used his canon, the pinpoint glare of hell-fire he reserved for court.

Fuck, he didn’t want to be here. He continued to stare at the strawberry blond woman, she didn’t offer much resistance after he threatened her. He didn’t want to have to do the local force’s job either. But here he was, blue eyes scanning the piles of paperwork without much intent, it was an instinct, a habit of bring justice he couldn’t shake even outside the profession.

“She’s at the end of her shift on floor eleven, mister.” the woman squeaked.

He turned from the desk just as she called at him once more. “Do you want me to let her know you are coming Mr. Barber?” she asked.

Andy Barber turned on the slick bottom of his brick colored loafer. “And let her know I’m coming?,” he said back and continued to the elevator. “No thanks.” he said over his shoulder.

Once again, you gathered up your bag from the locker. Praise for the next few days off was celebrated by throwing tattered pantie hose into the garbage on your way out. You took a long sip off your covered lukewarm coffee and walked passed the nurses station to the elevator.

An orderly waved you off as you stood there waiting, taking weak sips from your coffee as the doors opened. A few got off but one remained, a familiar looking man.

Parted dark brown hair appeared impeccable against the checkered jacket. He was leaned back and propped up with his hands gripping the metal handrail along the back. A businessman, you considered but when his eyes met yours and stuck, your stomach dropped.

Ignoring the instinct to turn and use the stairs you stepped into it. His eyes stayed on you, scratching up your back as you pressed the button to the first floor.

“Andy Barber, district attorney’s office.” he announced and you froze inside, this was going to be a slow ride down.

You stood there emotionless, inscrutable even as he approached on your left. He turned toward you washing your senses in his heady cologne.

“It’s been almost a week and half, you’ve been hard to reach. I’m here to get your statement.”

“No comment,” you replied.

“Now why is that? You have something to hide?”

Quickly you turned your head toward him.

“I have nothing to hide.”

Andy pushed his hands into his pockets and tilted his head curiously. Your eyes roamed over his bushy beard, the rise of his cheek bones, but his eyes- damn he wasn’t a dead ringer for your rescuer.

“What did you hear that night? The closest rooms were empty until yours.”

“I was asleep.” you answered shortly.

“Sleep?”

“Then why did one of the officer’s say they saw you going into your room?”

Fuck, your mind blared.

“That’s my business and has nothing to do with whatever shit went down that night.”

Andy switched gears, he took a couple steps toward you, directly in front of you.

“Then let's hear it. What business did you have?” he asked.

Andy stared at you with very little regard for space or boundaries. With two blazing blue eyes he burned his will into you. He wasn’t just flexing his authority, he pressed in, slowly but deliberately forcing you to take a step back.

“I have nothing to say!” you bit back, but your footing was lost and with it Andy smiled. God damn, he looked like Robert when he did that. And his mouth, buried underneath a perfectly trimmed beard matched his too. Only thing really missing were the moles, Robert had a few more down his neck than this guy.

“I think you have plenty to say,” he said with a bright smile. The door slid open behind him, and you walked around him. “And I’m going to find out what it is,” he added, whispering into your ear as you quickly strode away.

You weren't hard to pin down. Andy parked his crown victoria and dropped his hands into his lap. Rows of brick apartment buildings lined and crowded around the occasional shop along the street.

He checked the paper for your address and glanced back out through the windshield that read that exact number. Couldn’t have been more than a one bedroom loft by the looks of it. One story above a Polish dive, Andy watched for a few minutes before he decided to get out of the car.

But just as he opened the door a van sped by that caused him to slam the door back shut. It parked just in front of him, but it wasn’t a van. Stickers, bright and childlike were plastered all over it around the word ‘Mr. Freezy’.

“Fucking cock sucker,” he hissed under his breath. And once again he opened his door but paused when the man who drove it walked from around the front of it.

Shoulder length hair, wavy like he remembered with the bottle cap glasses that tortured his dreams. Images of a boy torturing ants with the glasses off his face flashed through his thoughts. The strut, the man walked like he owned the street and every life on it, had Andy’s eyes glued to the figure crossing in front of oncoming traffic.

The man flipped off the car and continued across, Andy’s body tensed as he leaned forward and gripped the steering wheel. His eyes only moved from the man when he saw you, walking in front of the diner. He swallowed hard and hoped that this long haired freak wasn’t coming to see you.

His stomach turned, felt like his epiglottis hung nearly down his throat as you smiled at him.

Andy groaned and spied the smirk growing around the man's lips. “Fuckin’ Robert.” he grumbled.

The case was pretty much closed, and labeled cold and quickly dismissed by the district attorney for lack of evidence. It was bullshit, swept under the rotten rug that the mayor stood on while snorting his line of coke. Andy knew the odds of finding the killer, the real piece of shit that did it, was small at best.

But that wasn’t really on his mind at the moment as he stood on the other side of your street. He casually thumbed at the folder tucked under his arm and remembered it had been years since he had looked at its contents. In the dark and a bit buzzed, near a couple of barren bushes, Andy gazed up at the light of your unshuttered window. He had to know you were alone this time. He looked both ways over the street and decided that maybe your visitor was a no-show tonight.

At least he hoped that was the case, but he didn’t care much. He had been watching your home for long enough to know you usually came home right after work. Except on Wednesdays when you shopped at the store down the street. And the man, Robert, arrived when he wanted. No rhyme or reason to his visits so Andy took the chance. He crossed the street, and from his observations he also knew that your buzz box was broken, as was the lock to the entrance door.

He pulled it open and was promptly hit in the face with the fragrance of onions and cabbage then he stepped lightly up the stairs towards your door. The way up to your door channeled perfectly the sounds of the kitchen next door. Maybe his footsteps were masked, he wasn’t a natural thrill seeker, he enjoyed the chase sure. In court it offered a thrill of using knowledge to bury his opposition in humiliation. But this was different. It tickled something inside of him and wiggled a need he wasn’t sure what to do with.

Andy banged on the door, he pursed his lips tight and reminded himself to relax. He didn’t mix words when you opened the door, eyes bright, beautiful with a warm smile across your thick smooth lips. Wearing nothing but a yellow tube top and a skirt, Andy forced his eyes to focus on your face.

“Why are you with Robert Pronge?” he asked harshly.

Your eyes and face hardened on contact and you attempted to shut the door. Andy stepped over the threshold, he knew that this was crossing the line, he knew that it was satisfying too. He grabbed the lip of the door and slapped at your hand when you tried to close it on him.

“What the fuck are you doing! Get the fuck out of here!”

Your harsh shout landed on deaf ears, Andy slammed the door behind him and grabbed one of your arms.

“I told you what I did that night! Get out of my fucking house!” You yelled.

Andy jerked you further into the apartment. “Listen to me,” he insisted and shook you slightly.

“That’s a dangerous man, he’s done terrible shit. You want to get caught up in that? He’s a fucking murder!”

You stopped struggling. “Why do you care?” you asked.

“He’s not right...in the head. I just haven’t caught him in the act yet. Listen, I’ve known him my entire life.”

Andy released you slowly and took a deep breath. “That’s my brother, my twin.” He held up the folder and then thrust it into your hands.

“Look at it,” he said nodding to your small table. You eyed him for another minute, glanced at your door and stared at him again. “Please.” he added quietly with his breath smelling like hard liquor.

“I’ll give you ten minutes and I’m going to start screaming.” you said.

Andy nodded and followed you to the other side of the table. He didn’t sit like you did, he hovered as you opened the folder.

It looked like the contents of a case file. A sheet of paper with a timeline dating from the sixties covered an image, a photo. You flipped over the paper to reveal the dismembered parts of a body crammed into a hole.

Revolted, you stared up at Andy in disgust. “What the fuck is this? Barber?”

“His victims,” answered Andy. Irritated with having to stop and explain every detail he stepped closer, and began to flip over the pages as he spoke.

“This one was a kid we knew, Bobby hated him- he was fourteen.” He grabbed a few between his fingers and flipped them over. He pointed at the photo of a woman's face, pretty with black curly hair and a beautiful smile. “Her? She was the waitress Bobbie admired for all the wrong reasons. She pushed him off and this was the result.”

“Okay alright.” you scoffed and flipped to the end.

Andy hesitated, a pitiful sharp sigh puffed around his words. “That was my wife and son. They were killed eight years ago…”

“You think he did this?”

“The investigation concluded it was due to faulty break lines. But I know better…”

You suppressed a smirk at the pain in his eyes, and hoped he didn’t see it. You reprimand your antics by staring at the photo. It was grounding to the proclivity you had to cross the wires of sympathy and joy. Death, it seems more real, more permanent than life itself. But your calculating side, couldn’t help in thinking about the pesky consequences of leaving a trail as Robert had done. Sloppy.

“Wait,” you asked quietly and shook  your head-baggage away. “Why is your last name Barber?” you inquired genuinely, although, you always did your work.

Andy shoved his hands deep in his pockets and gazed at you thoughtfully. “He’s using our mother’s maiden name, clever..”

He nudged your bare shoulder causing you to react with a flinch. Andy knelt down at your side and put his hand on the back of your chair. The weight of his stare, not on your face, but your body burned your skin to the point you refused to meet his gaze.

You wondered how this family tempered its crazy. He was an attorney, an authority and here, in your kitchen, he was watching you like a starving man.

“If you have any information,” The skin of your back prickled with heat. Turn him in? You thought and still refused to react to Andy’s offer.

“I can use it to put this monster away…” he asked, more needy than you liked. So you turned to him and attempted to shove him off his feet.

It didn’t work. Instead of falling backwards Andy grabbed you by the wrist and with him you fell forward. Your ears rang, heart raced up into your throat when you continued to wrestle away.

And when you managed to get to a standing position, half with Andy grabbing your waist and your arms reaching for the nearby couch. He wouldn’t let go.

Andy couldn’t let go. It was something about you. Whether it was the dark amusement in your eyes at the news of his family’s demise, or the hilarity of you actually loving Robert enough to protect him. It split his nerves, your gall pissed him off to the point he no longer struggled with restraint.

And when he got you back to the floor your screams tore through him and the space around him. He forced you belly first on the cold linoleum, your neck pinched in the crease of his arm and you no longer screamed.

Something inside you suddenly froze, nails digging into the fabric of his sleeve you didn’t move. Sweat dripped down to the end of his nose as he fought to take a complete breath. His hips laid on the tops of your ass while his growing chub became wedged in the tight mounds underneath.

Andy went right for it, without really thinking. Fuck that. He fumbled with his belt, while slowly grinding his now raging hard on into you. He didn’t say a word when he pushed your legs apart with his bony knees or as he yanked your panties to the side.

Still digging on his sleeve your mind tunneled back to Robert. With his hot nicotine breath simmering on your skin, his thick cock shoved up inside you without remorse. This man, he really was his brother.

And when Andy pushed the head in, passed your tight entrance, they felt related too.

Andy’s free hand grabbed at your right wrist and twisted it down onto the floor underneath his. He pressed his fingers in between yours while he panted rhythmically in your ear.

Such a quiet fuck. Not like Robert, at all. When he took you, he made sure you were aware - terrified yes, but completely coherent when fucked you hard.

Andy’s hips slowly bucked and bobbed over your ass as he squeezed your hard. “I’m sorry,” he apologized with a soft grunt.

He kept saying it with every thrust like he was apologizing to the air more than you.

Sweet, you felt so slick and smooth around the girth of his dick. Andy blurred the lines, convinced himself that this was right and you wanting Robert was wrong. Never mind about your struggle, and never mind you were a raging tease by the way you were dressed. You had made eyes at him. You wanted this.

But he still managed to whisper another soft ‘sorry’ when his thrusts grew more ragged. And he felt justified when you didn’t struggle anymore, that your ‘nos’ turned to moans.

Fuck, you were a complete slut, thought Andy and grabbed for your right shoulder. Your head was still captured in the crook of his left arm, slowly he leaned you that direction, pressed his fingers into your shoulder and fucked you harder.

Flashes of your face, your smile burst into his want. And then he burst, with a long painful moan Andy came inside you in a haze of seeing his brother’s face slowly melt away in his mind.

Still with the taste of booze in his mouth Andy let you go. On his knees, he put himself away and stood up.

“Fuck…” he said regretfully.

When you looked up at him from the floor he was running his hands through his hair while pacing.

You managed to pull your skirt back over your ass and sat, still watching him whisper to himself. Andy issued another round of apologies, after that he didn’t look at you again. Quickly, he walked over to the table, scooped up the folder with the photos of blood shed.

“I--I should have never come here…” he muttered, and leaving you there he walked out of the apartment.

A thick heavy boot stepped off the sidewalk and right into a puddle of gray runoff. It was joined by the other, Robert craned his neck up to your window.

It was the shadows that caught his eyes, plural. He had told you not to have company- ever.

So he waited around the corner, a perfect angle to watch.

A short haired man with a thick beard mirroring his own brought him out of the shadows. Robert took another step, this time out of the puddle as he watched the man stand, from what he assumed was the floor.

He hadn’t seen his brother's face in eight years until this moment.

“What the shit is he doing here,” hissed Robert into the dark.

His mind raced as his eyes rolled back to the blankness of his lids he remembered Andy’s curiosity. How he always stayed in his business and somehow always barged into his life. Robert couldn’t take his eye off the ball for a minute, he thought and looked back up at the window.

This time his attention jerked down to the door of your building being shoved open. Even from his distance, he could see Andy’s forehead covered, and glistening with sweat. He continued to watch his brother until he disappeared into a crowd of drunk men at the end of the street.

Robert brought his gaze back up to the window. You were there, staring at the table and hunched over it. No expression crossed your face and still you pulled him in. The curve of your face - that turned smooth, always, under his touch became his focus.

He wondered what you told Andy.

And he was going to find out.

The smoke hung heavy under the low ceiling, strobing lights of blue, green and yellow flashed through them like a murky spot light. Signalling sex, raw consumption of liquor and passion you leaned back on the bar and observed. The beat bounced through the air and vibrated through your skin as you sucked hard on the straw. With the alcohol pulsing through your veins, the sticky sweet drink coated your tongue as you wobbled gently to the music. Bodies rocked with the music, men swayed, women gyrated to the beat while you sat alone on your stool.

It was the happy ending of yet another long work week. Blood soaked clothes, gloves, poking the unruly receivers and that was just your side hustle. And Robert, you had decided to let that lay for a bit. Ya, he was a murderer, but what were you? Your silence with him and his equally fucked up brother had given you the space to think.

But all of the peace you had gathered was striped away in an instant. All of it fell to the side as your eyes landed on the man casually dancing as he walked, Robert. A fist bump here, and elbow jutting out in rhythm with a flirtatious smile to whoever would look.

You placed the drink back on the bar. Time to go.

It had been a week since you last saw him. Fuck. Not like he hadn’t tried to see you. At your job, at the local shop, where you knew damn well he lived nowhere near, he showed up and showed out.

Whatever he was, he was a risk to your way of life. He had to go, that is, unless you could mold him to your life. But here he was, his glasses flashed and reflected the blast of color from the lights. His head was in your direction and you absolutely knew he was staring.

Pissed off by your space being cramped you hopped the stool. Ignoring his approach you walked toward the exit and utilized the change of songs, crowds of people left the dance floor. And you were lost in it, hopefully, he wouldn’t pursue.

You couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Hey!” called Robert, gaining closeness.

You were already across the street, walking like you were out pacing a fire, you dug in your purse for your keys.

“Hey bitch!”

Robert’s voice echoed around you. And before you made it to your car you finally became really aware of your surroundings. His truck, under the street light, the pale blue words stood out in the dark Mr. Freezy.

A dirty cloth coated your mouth. Smelling like oil but sweet too you breathed in deep in an attempt to yell.

“Shush,” whispered Robert. His body clung to you from behind as he dragged you toward his truck. “I fuckin told you. Didn’t -”

In a last ditch effort, you made a fist, struck down and aimed for his balls.

“Cut that shit out!” he hissed.

No fresh air, the sweetness filled your nose and mouth.

“That’s it, take it in cunt.” his voice smeared in your mind. Robert let go of your waist, your legs buckled so he pushed his body on top yours against the closed door of his ice cream truck. Another deep breath, and your eyes stuck to the image of him grabbing at the handle. It was the last thing you remembered seeing of the outside world.

The first thing you saw when your eyes blinked open was a bundle of rope. It sat coiled in the corner of a dark room. Another blink, a few feet from it, a stained bat, what looked like a crow bar, and other long objects. But closer to your head, with another wipe to your eyes for clarity, a flat piece of wood. Was that a paddle?

“Finally, it’s been hours. I was beginning to worry.”

Roberts' voice, confident but aloof, joined the tat-tat of dripping water. You laid, face first on the dingy cement floor. A bulb from above was the only light shining in Robert’s work space.

It had to be a place for his blood thirst. You turned over on your side to get a better look. Meat hooks, dangerously clean hung from the roof, the room had a basin in the far corner and over the only entry thick clear plastic swayed.

It was the only place he never shared with you. And you had made it.

“What are you smiling at?” he asked.

You hadn’t realized you were smirking and quickly stopped.

“You think this is a fucking joke?” he jeered. Robert came full view after he stepped over your body and knelt down near your chest on one knee. He was naked except for his glasses and a pair of black, elbow length gloves.

A puff of white smoke cascaded from his lips and then ashed the cigarettes near your head. “I see you met my holier than thou brother.”

Robert scoffed to himself as he stared at you.

“I caught up with that sack of shit. Scared the shit out of his ass,” Robert laughed this time with glee in his eyes.

“He told me he got to dip into that perfect pussy of yours.”

You continued to watch him, never leaving your eyes from his face as he spoke.

“Also told me it wasn’t exactly consensual too.” Robert bit his lip as if to say ‘sorry about that’.

With a gloved hand he caressed your face. “I don’t like to share normally. If he would have been another man I would have killed him. Andy’s my brother. Whatever he does, I’ll still love him. Whatever threatens us, I’ll kill.”

Robert’s hand skimmed down your neck and he scooted closer. His balls and dick shook with the sudden movement they were nearly to your face. But you didn’t move, if there was a heart in you it might have raced. But you lived for this, craved the chaos that came with dealing with Robert.

“I want one last dip too. You know, for old times sake.”

He pulled hard on the last of his cigarette, junked it and grabbed you by the head. Smoke wafted over your mouth as he kissed you. His tongue poked and slid into your mouth tasting of nicotine.

“I’m not going to tell anybody.” you managed to mumble through the kiss. Robert pulled back, he appeared sad, if that were possible.

He seemingly relaxed at your words as he let you go. But the calm didn’t last, Robert smacked you hard across the face and pushed his body on top of yours. It jarred you, took you by surprise to the point that when Robert finally was inside of you, it was his grunts that brought you back.

He shoved his gloved hand over your mouth shutting out your nonexistent cries. It was a reflex. Robert couldn’t get off unless he thought you really didn’t want it. Something about needing the fight, craving it to the point of drowning out all your protests.

And when he bothered to look into your eyes he found zero fear. Robert grabbed one of your legs, twisted it and yanked it high hoping his deep digging would bring out a cry from you.

Nothing.

And that was when he tried a new tactic. He grabbed your throat with two hands and squeezed. That was it. Your eyes popped open wide as your mouth gaped.

Fear. And it made him rock hard.

Robert had sworn off breeding. But now, watching you take him whole, he couldn’t help but think about how much better it would be to see you big. What does a brother compare to the offspring of you, his captive? He pumped harder as his head tipped back to relish in the sensations of your wet pussy.

“Ugh,” Robert growled. “Just thinking about you big with my kid,”

Your eyes rolled to the side and you struggled to breath. His voice warped with the rush of blood to your ears.

“Maybe I shouldn’t kill you…”

Weakly, your hand left the black plastic around his wrist. You chanced another glance at him, blurry, but he was fiercely pistoning, long hair wild, his glasses nearly off his face as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“I’m goin’ take that cunt every single day.”

Your fingers wrapped around the handle of the padded. Robert came, slamming his hips into you with every long hiss. And with every once of power you could summon, you took the paddle and swung it at his head.

The moment it connected with the side of Robert’s face, he pulled out of you and fell to the cement floor. On your feet, you hit him again for good measure and planted your feet.

Both hands gripped the handle like a pro and stared down at him. “Mr. Freezy?” you shouted with knowing.

“Ya I know all about it.” you pointed out. “I know you.”

Robert gazed up at you with wide eyes, without his glasses on you could get a great look at the emotion rolling over his face. His lips moved like he was going to speak but stopped and blanched.

“You think you’re the only one?” You laughed at him.

Robert grabbed his glasses and put them back on while never letting his eyes leave you.

“What do you think you know?” he asked quickly with his blood running hot.

“Who do you think got rid of Big Top? The motel?” you quipped.

You let Robert stand up. He rolled his shoulders and pushed his stringy hair out of his sweaty face.

“Only one woman ‘round here doing dirty work that I’ve heard of.” he scoffed. “You aren’t Sunshine.”

Robert pointed to the floor accusingly. “You think she would let me have my way with her?”

“From where I’m standing you’re the one with a knot on his head. Seems to me I’m the one who had my way with you.”

The ignorant smile growing on Robert's face fell hard. He remembered the lack of fear in your eyes, the way your cunt pooled with wet around his cock. Damn.

You allowed Robert to move to the nearby counter. He yanked his clothes off and quickly got dressed as he continued to watch you handle the paddle.

“So what about that first day we met?” he asked, pulling on his shoes.

“That was a mistake. Collateral damage with being a woman on the shitty side of town.” You tossed the paddle, the clatter drew Robert’s eyes to the floor.

“I was attacked after a job.” you confessed.

Robert looked at you again. “Prove it.” And walked past you toward the plastic curtain.

You followed suspiciously, but confidently through the curtain. Within was a smaller area, with more hooks hanging from the metal rafters. And on those hooks hung two men. Like observing a stack of books, or a batch of flowers, your eyes roamed over their bodies without much grim fascination.

“Help me get rid of these things,” he said with his back turned toward you. Robert clanged a few long knives as he gathered them up.

He turned around and tossed a pair of long black gloves into your chest. You caught them easily and went about putting them as he watched. Robert stepped forward and handed you the end of one of the blades.

You glanced at the thick blade, it was blotchy with rusted patches and not nearly as shiny as you liked them. “Got anything sharper?” you chuckled.

“Don’t be an asshole,” he replied as you took it.

Robert watched you turn on your heel toward the nearest dead naked body. He knew you were still dripping with his cum as you surveyed the mobster. Fuck that was hot, he thought. Robert began to imagine a life with you, killing for you too.

You grabbed one of the legs, hitched it under your arm and began to cut into the lifeless flesh over the hip joint.

Robert Pronge had truly fallen in love.

#Robert Pronge #Mr Freezy #black!reader

[avenging-fandoms]

Pumpkin Eater

*requested by anonymous *hey bebs 💕 could you write something where chris cheated on the reader and he sees her with sebastian and gets jealous 🥺 *in which y/n and chris were engaged to be married in 7 months, but she caught him cheating. leaving her homeless, her friend sebastian let her stay with him. *warning: angst, cheating, mentions of sex, drinking, fluff *PLEASE send me requests!!!!! i can do whoever :)

MASTERLIST

this is going to be a series!!

“oh my fucking god” you breathed and dropped your bags, the door hitting the wall catching the attention of chris and the girl on top of him. “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me” they both scrambled and she got her clothes on fast, running out the door.

chris wrapped himself in the blanket, shaking his head and putting his hand up. "yn, i promise, this wasn't supposed to happen"

"oh bullshit, chris! did you think i wouldn't find out? my god, chris, we're fucking engaged!" you ran your fingers through your hair, chris still tightening the blanket around his waist. "4 years. 4 years down the drain, for what? for some fun?" your lip quivered and you shook your head.

"yn, please, i can explain" you scoff, running your tongue over your lips as you shift your weight to one leg with your arms across your chest as you looked at him.

"you can explain what? you cheated! there's no fucking excuse!" you exclaim, grabbing a bag from the closet and shoving random articles of clothes in it, as well as the ones you just bought.

"where are you going? no, please don't leave" chris begged and grabbed your wrist, and you chuckle as you ripped it out of his grip.

"if you don't want me to leave, you shouldn't have cheated and had some random girl riding your dick. i'm calling off the wedding" you threw the ring at his chest and slammed the bedroom door behind you. you shoved the bag into the back of your car, starting your car and gripping the steering wheel. you squeezed your eyes shut and leaned your forehead onto the wheel, your shoulders shaking as you sob.

your phone started to ring and you took a deep breath, sniffling and taking a few breaths before answering it. your elbow leaned against the door, eyes closed with your fingers against your forehead. "hey yn!" sebastian beamed over the phone and you smile softly, feeling a little better to hear how happy he sounded.

"you called at literally the best time. is it alright if i come over?"

"sure! door's unlocked, i've got drinks in the fridge, i'll see you soon then!" you said your goodbyes and hung up the phone, putting it away and blasting music as you drove off to sebastian's.

-

30 minutes later you pulled into sebastian's driveway and turned down the music before shutting off your car. you grabbed your bag and took a breath before sulking over to his door. you knocked softly and tapped your toes together as you waited for sebastian to open the door. you heard his footsteps and the door swung open, your puffy eyes meeting his sweet, bright smile.

"hey doll! oh no, why are you sad?" your lip quivered after the question and you let out a sob, sebastian catching you as you fell into him, he scrunches his eyebrows confused and wraps his arms around you.

"i-i caught him in bed-" sebastian shushed you softly and held your head, bringing you and your bag inside his house.

"you don't have to tell me anything until you're ready, okay? i'll be here to listen. for now, i'll just hold you until you have no more tears" he smiled and kissed your head, the both of you sitting on the couch. he put your legs over his lap, comforting you. you hiccuped once you stopped crying, playing with the hem of sebastian's shirt.

"he was in bed.. with that bitch i asked about a couple months ago" you sighed and sebastian scoffed, shaking his head.

"what did he say before? when you asked about her before" sebastian rubbed your arm and you laughed.

"an old hometown friend who moved to california. and i believed it, even though i met all his friends from home"

"what an asshole, you don't deserve that" sebastian whispered and kissed your forehead, making you smile.

"and.. with me being over here now, if it's not any incon-"

"yes, you are more than welcome to stay. my guest bedroom is finally finished" you smile and hug him tightly, sebastian rubbing your back. "love you yn"

"love you more, seb, thank you" you whisper and snuggle your cheek into his shoulder.

the next day sebastian helped you pack your things from the house you and chris shared. you guys put some boxes in storage and some boxes to sebastian's house. chris came back to the house as you closed the trunk of your car.

"yn? hey, please listen to me" chris begged and and you clicked your seatbelt in the passenger seat.

"she's not talking to you right now. you hurt her, very bad, chris" sebastian glared, backing up and getting into the driver's seat. chris yelled things about you getting with sebastian as payback but it was muffled. sebastian reached over and grabbed your thigh and you shook your head as you placed your hand on top of his.

"i told myself i wouldn't cry about it anymore.. but i can't help it" you sniffled and at a red light, sebastian wiped the tears from your cheeks.

"you're allowed to be sad, yn. it's your choice how long you want to be sad, no one else's, okay?" he whispered and you nodded, kissing his palm and you widened your eyes.

"sebastian, i didn't mean to do that" you rambled on and he chuckled, holding your wrists and kissing each knuckle and your palms. "oh" you sighed, dropping your shoulders and sebastian looked up at you through his eyelashes.

"see? don't be sorry, it's comforting" he smiled and you nodded slowly, licking your lips. "you want to go somewhere to eat?" you nodded and he sat the right way again. luckily there was no one behind you two because you sat through a green light. the light turned green again and he took off, heading to the place you wanted to eat before heading to his house.

sebastian pulled into his driveway and opened your door for you. you think him as he takes your hand into the house. "are there any.. house rules?"

"uhm.. food is free reign, bathroom upstairs, the guest room is right across from- what's wrong?" you rubbed your arm and shrugged, looking around the house then meeting sebastian's eyes.

"i didn't mean to make your life any more crazy" you apologize to him and stare at your toes.

"hey, look at me" sebastian said but you refused. he held your chin softly and tilted your face up to look at him. "you could never be a burden to me, i promise. i've always wanted a roommate who wasn't crazy"

"well.. i'm pretty crazy now" you smiled and he laughed, shaking his head.

"no, definitely not. chris is crazy for cheating on an amazing, smart, sexy girl like you" he grinned and your cheeks felt hot. "there's that shy smile"

"you think i'm sexy?" i whisper, stepping a little closer to sebastian.

"who wouldn't?" he whispered back, his mouth inches from yours. "goodnight yn"

"goodnight seb" he kissed your forehead and headed to his room. you sighed contently with a smile on your face, heading to the guest room. it was still scattered with some boxes, the closet half filled with clothes and the dresser topped with a mirror and a tv.

you got ready for bed and cuddled tight under the sheets, deleting the new texts you got from chris about the cheating, about sebastian, about everything. you went on social media, which is a bad idea after a break up. 'chris evans' was trending, and it was filled with thousand of tweets about the break up. your chest felt heavy and it felt like your throat was closing. "seb..seb.." you ripped the blankets off of you and you knocked on his door frantically.

"come in" you swung the door open and he dropped his clothes in his hamper. "what's wrong, doll?"

"they're a-all talking about it" you cried in choppy breaths, sebastian's eyebrows furrowing. you handed him your phone and he scrolled through the tweets, shaking his head and putting your phone next to his on the nightstand. "h..how did they find out?! i didn't post anything, remove any pictures, or say anything about you. how is it out?!"

"apparently he let it slip in an interview. plus i guess he confided in the wrong person and they told the press" sebastian rubbed your back and you let out a soft cry, falling into him. "you're going on a social media detox. i'm going to take your phone for a couple days and we're going to enjoy the world, okay?" you nod and sniffle, nodding and wiping your cheeks with his thumbs.

"i'm sorry for dumping all of this on you" you said softly and you looked up at him.

"never apologize for your feelings" he whisper and i nodded, leaning forward and kissing his chest.

"thank you seb" your tone was soft as you leaned back against his bed. sebastian was still processing the kiss to his chest you left, a soft smirk playing on his lips. it didn't take long for you to fall asleep, and sebastian didn't want to move you. he pulled the blankets over the two of you, kissing your forehead before shutting off the side lamp and falling asleep with an arm draped over you.

-

you woke up the next day with your arms wrapped around sebastian's arm. your eyes felt heavy and puffy, but you didn't want to move out of your very comfortable spot. you watched sebastian chest rise up and down slowly with every breath he took, his arm tucked under his head with his face turned away from yours.

you never really looked at sebastian, but you were glad you were getting the chance to right now. he shifted and you panicked, closing your eyes again to pretend you were sleeping. you heard him sigh and felt his bicep flex, and it was so hard to bite back your smile and grip it in your hands.

sebastian slowly pulled his arm away from your grip and pushed your hair out of your face before he got out of bed. sebastian headed into his bathroom and locked the door, your eyes shooting open. your arms pushed up the soft sheets as you stretched your limbs. you reached over for your phone, seeing a lot of missed calls, texts and notifications from almost every social media app you had.

sebastian's phone vibrated and you jumped when you heard the water turn on in the shower, sebastian badly singing as he showered. you sighed and peeked at his screen, seeing a lot of texts from chris.

"this is crazy" you sighed, placing a pillow over your face and wanting to scream. you had almost fallen asleep again before you heard the water shut off. you took the pillow off of your face and pretended to just be waking up as he came out of the bathroom.

"well, good morning roomie" sebastian smiled and you sat up, gasping softly with wide eyes as you noticed sebastian dripping in water with his towel loosely tied around his waist.

“good morning. i didn’t mean to take up your bed last night. all that crying just really took it out of me"

“no problem, i understand. my bed is big enough for the both of us. no bother” he smiled and took another towel to dry his hair. you brushed your hair out of your face and sighed.

"uhm, i'm gonna go shower. probably unpack too. you can come help if you want" you started to walk towards his door but you heard him whistle. you tighten your face and turn around slowly, sebastian's hand on his hip with the other out palm facing up.

"i seem to remember there were 2 phones on my nightstand, and now there's only one. give it here" you grunt and slightly stomp as you slapped the phone in his hand. "this is for your own sake, it's to better you and your mind!" sebastian smiled and you rolled your eyes, trying to pretend that you were mad at sebastian but you couldn't help the corners of your mouth curling up.

"yeah, yeah. whatever" you push his shoulder and he laughs. "i'll be in my room, then i'm gonna shower"

"okay. and hey," you turned around in his door frame, your hand on the wood as you looked over your shoulder to sebastian. "you and me"

you smile, nodding softly. "you and me, seb"

#chris evans #sebastian stan #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans imagine #chris evans imagines #chris evans fic #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans blurb #chris evans blurbs #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan imagines #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan blurb #sebastial stan blurbs #captain america #steve rogers #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier

[obae-me]

LMAO, okay so what if they discovered that Diavolo (or his dad) was MC's dad? Like they get scared and then boom, wings and horns.

This idea is *chefs kiss*. I’m assuming since this was sent in when my requests were open ages ago that this is a headcanon idea so here we go! Thank you for your patience, finally you can have some Demon!Mc content!

These are Headcanons for the Brothers, but I like the idea so much I might come back later and write some for the Undateables.

The Prince of Hell is My Half Brother?

Everything had been normal at first. Well, as normal as living in a modern version of hell with some of the deadliest demons can be. Something about it all...felt...comforting. Although MC knew that couldn’t be the case, they were unaware of what it was that alluded to the feeling of home. MC’s roommates and protectors were a little grateful when the human settled in with relative ease in their otherworldly situation, but even they questioned how the mortal could accept it all so simply. 

Diavolo himself had an idea of why. From the moment he first saw MC, something in his soul bound to them. He needed to test out this theory of his, but not by being direct, no, he would never get an authentic answer that way. Plus, it was no fun, and with his endless royal responsibilities, he felt he was due a little entertainment. 

So, he conjured up another one of his toyful ploys. With the help of Barbatos, the residents of Purgatory Hall and the House of Lamentation were trapped in the coliseum. Slowly, one of the chambers raised its protective gates, unleashing a demonic monster. It wasn’t till MC felt their life threatened when the change happened, something about their prolonged exposure to magic and the Devildom’s atmosphere managed to finally bring out the secrets in them. Their skin burned and the air around them seemed to spark...and then...they had been changed. New wings, a set of horns? 

A magical chain shot out from the empty room and dragged the creature back in, the metal gates slamming back down and locking itself into place. Diavolo and Barbatos seemed to show up out of thin air. The prince was booming in laughter while the butler tilted his head in amusement. 

“So I was right! I had a feeling,” The Demon Lord started. “Right before he went into slumber, my father had this grand plan to try to create half demon hybrids, although...I thought it had been declared unsuccessful...but you…” Something shone in his eyes, something like he’d just found something he thought had been long lost. “You are my kin! My family! Human and Demon! Exactly the sort of thing to help bring all our worlds together!”

Lucifer

This man has not been surprised by anything in centuries, whether it be due to his wits or drastically low expectations. But this...he wasn’t even sure he was seeing correctly. The human he had thought was weak and fragile suddenly had one pair of leathery bat wings and a set of horns curling around the back of their head. And...what had Diavolo just said?...Family?...Half demon?

First off, he has to drag the young prince away for a disappointed and thorough review of this ridiculously dangerous plan of his. What if he had been wrong? What if the human--or...half human--had died?! Secondly, what did this mean for the exchange program now that it’d turned out the human wasn’t quite so human after all? 

For the first time in a long while...he was unprepared how to handle this. Of course, Diavolo was elated and too caught up in the excitement of things to pay any mind to Lucifer’s woes. 

This would be...an adventure…

He’ll admit, he tried ignoring it at first, hoping that if he simply kept MC under wraps and out of dangerous situations, they’d keep the demon half under control. However, those plans were quickly dashed when one evening they’d sneezed at dinner, their wings manifesting out of thin air and smacking Lucifer square in the face. With their awakened demon powers unchecked, their own worst danger was themselves. So there was only one thing left he could do. 

He’d have to train them. 

The thought of having to devote even more time to work nearly drove him mad, but he quickly discovered that the time teaching MC was...heartwarming. Satan had been so hell-bent on teaching himself when he grew into his own form that Lucifer hadn’t taken someone under his wings like this since the Celestial Realm. It rapidly got to the point where he’d look forward to his sessions with MC. 

“You’re going to want to spread your wings wide and catch as much air under them as you can in one swoop. Flailing won’t get you anywhere,” Lucifer explained, feeling the half-human grip his hand tightly as they stood at the edge of the roof. 

They squeezed their eyes shut with fear, but he could feel their heart pumping with adrenaline at the excitement. “What if I fall?” 

“You won’t. But, on the chance you do, I’ll catch you.” He released their fingers and stepped off the ledge, falling down for the briefest of moments before his wings outstretched and he fluttered up, remaining stagnant in the same spot in the sky a few feet away from the precipice. “Alright, come on. Those wings aren’t just for decoration you know.” MC was wary, nearly petrified with fear. He sighed, reaching out his hand towards them despite being so far from them. “Trust me.” With a breath, they closed their eyes and pushed their body off the ground with a single flap. It was choppy, and the more they panicked, the more distressed their wings became. But they moved forward, eyes glued to the ground far below them. Once they were in reach of Lucifer’s hand, they pulled him close, face planted in his chest while clinging onto him for dear life. “See, you did it,” he beamed, chest swelling with pride. 

The longer he held them against him, the more they were able to get used to how hovering felt, the more the fear melted away. They pulled apart from him, managing to stay level with him. “I...did...I’m-I’m flying.” 

Their pure awe and obvious statement elicited a chuckle from him. “You are. Quite an experience isn’t it? Come along now, you still have those new extensions to break in, and let me tell you, there’s nothing quite like a peaceful soar under the stars.”

Under his tutelage, MC would have themselves under control in no time. 

Mammon 

Of course he was shocked, why wouldn’t he be?! His little human was...half demon? What was the point?! How was he supposed to protect them, to be the world to them, to...He felt a little betrayed. But then again...he took a moment to ponder this new discovery. Diavolo’s family? Royalty? The potential access to the Demon King’s funds?! He and his pact-mate were one small step away from the most Grimm he’s ever seen! He sulked for a little bit but then was perhaps the most excited of the bunch. Well, save for Diavolo. 

The profits! The benefits! The schemes! Glorious treasures and buckets of money were all he could think about for a while. That was, until he noticed them nearly tripping on their own wings and getting things snagged in their horns. At the end of the day...this was still MC, still his...friend, and now it seemed he had more reason to protect them than ever. 

But money was still on the table...if MC wanted it to be anyway. 

As shocking as it was, he’d been taking a lot of the blame and brunt of MC’s mistakes. Wings accidentally popped out and broke a vase? He’d comforted them as they panicked and tried to convince Lucifer it was his doing. Horns manifesting themselves in the middle of the night and shredding their bedding? He’d pay for a replacement. After all, what kind of lousy ‘first’ demon could he be if he couldn’t even look after MC despite appearances? He was still pleased there were things he could do for them, that there was a reason to keep him around. 

Half-demon or no, MC was still his “stupid human”. 

Shaking his head, he allowed himself a heavy sigh and a shrug of his shoulders as he looked down at MC, struggling to free themselves from a tangle of curtains. However they got themselves in this position, only his father knew. Their wing was wrapped in the fabric and one of their horns snagged, unable to let them escape. “I thought I told ya to avoid dangly things till you can control this form of yours.” Despite his best attempts at looking disappointed, he couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer, his bubbly chuckles bringing a blush to MC’s embarrassed face. 

“Don’t laugh, just help me out!” 

“That’s notta very nice tone to have for the only person around to help, ya know,” he teased, smirking down at them with a glint in his eyes. 

They groaned, tugging once again at the curtain that seemed to have a death grip on the rod despite their struggle. Their wing got bound tighter in the shift, causing them to wince and Mammon to drop his smile. “Mammon, please…” 

He dropped to his knees and grabbed their face with his hand as he kept them steady. Tearing a bit at the hole they’d already made with their horn, he helped get their head free. MC wrapped their arms around his neck and pressed their face against his chest while he busied himself observing the mess they’d gotten themselves in. “Man, how’d you even manage this…? It’s gonna have to go.” 

“The wing?!” MC shouted, eyes wide with fear. 

“Nah, you silly human, the curtain.” Gripping the tear, he pulled his hands apart, the sharp sound of breaking seams cracking through the room. The bottom half of the drapes had successfully been separated. With it, MC already felt the pressure lessen. “There we are,” he announced, unwrapping them till they were finally free. MC stretched their wings and grinned with relief. “What would you do without the Great Mammon, huh?” 

There would be plenty of mistakes to come, but Mammon would always be by their side to help them out of it...if he hadn’t helped get them there in the first place. 

Levi 

OMG are you kidding?! This is exactly like the plot in ‘I Had No Idea Who I Was Till I Awoke In A Strange Land And Now I Have Secret Powers! And Oh, Turns Out The Prince Is My Half Brother!’, it couldn’t get any closer than that! The twist! The shock! It was like he was living in a real life fantasy! (Apparently being a demon and constantly surrounded by magic and spells doesn’t quite fulfill his expectations)

Honestly, he’s having a little meltdown in his head, which is obvious to the others due to his fervent muttering and the eyes that never seem to focus. He thinks they’re cool already, so cool, but now they’re even better! Better than him! A cute human with now the powers and features of a demon, and technically a royal?! He can’t compete with that! How are they ever going to look at him the same again? They even have wings! He doesn’t have those! Envy hardly even begins to describe his feelings.

He needs to go have some time to cool down and clear his head, but when he comes back, he’ll be ready to call them a normie again. 

His...fickle and crippling emotions drives him to avoid MC for a while. He doesn’t know how to approach them anymore. What if they’d suddenly changed? What if they didn’t need him or want him around? Endless what-if scenarios ran through his head, not even TSL seemed to help. But, he had to come out of his room eventually. If not out of sheer loneliness, because he’d finally ran out of health-items (aka food and water). 

Besides...while he does his best to convince others that 2D is supreme, he can’t deny that he’s missed his friend, his Henry, immensely. 

During one of his supposed “supply raids”, Levi passed MC’s room, peering in through the open door. It was mid-day, well into school hours, meaning everyone but him should be gone, but...MC was there, sitting on their bed. They scrolled through apps on their phone, refreshing, closing and opening the same apps over and over again before finally setting their D.D.D. aside. He noticed they looked...bored...and lonely. A moment like this would’ve been the perfect time to throw the door open wide and go comfort them...that’s what anime characters usually did...it’s something his brothers had no issue with. But his anxiety overwhelmed him, and he instead tried to speed past the door. 

Apparently alongside their new features, MC had gained a keener sense of awareness. They quickly turned their head, watching the blur of him speed past their door. “Levi! Wait!” Dashing out into the hallway, their wing jammed against the doorframe, causing them to tumble to the floor. A sharp intake of air was sucked through their teeth, and Levi’s panic triumphed over his unease. 

“MC! Hey, are-are you alright?” He got to his knees beside them, his hands hovering over them but not having the courage to follow-through. 

“Y-yeah, I’m still not quite used to these yet,” MC frowned, curving their own wing around their body to rub at the sore spot. 

Lip twitching, he focused on an interesting spot in the carpet before speaking. “S-so, why...why are you home and not at RAD?” 

“Diavolo and Lucifer...thought it would be best that I stay at home until I get...adjusted,” They explained, their voice sounding low and distant. 

There were so many things he wished he would’ve said. ‘I’m sorry’, ‘well, at least you aren’t alone’, ‘you’ll get the hang of things in no time’. But what he really said was, “O-oh.” And now here they were in some awkward silence. Somehow, Levi had come up with the idea that MC would now be one of the most popular people in the realm. Demons fawning over them, their life instantly changed, a life they didn’t need him in. But here they were, lonely like he was, stuck inside like he was. “D-do-do you,” he stuttered. “Do you want to hang out in-hang out in my room?” 

A familiar smile painted onto their face, and it made his chest tighten. “If you’re okay with it, then sure!” 

He’d missed them. “Okay! You remember that show we watched last week? They came out with a new episode! Oh, and-and some new figures I ordered arrived, you can help unbox them with me if you want!” He helped them rise to their feet. “But uh...I can’t have you knocking over things in my room…” He released his tail, blushing as he carefully wrapped it a few times around MC’s torso, keeping their twitching wings carefully pinned against their back. 

Even though they’d transformed and been announced as Diavolo’s half-sibling...some things just didn’t change. 

Satan 

Very intrigued, so much so he began sputtering off questions immediately. How did this come about? How long is their lifespan? How powerful are they? What’s their soul like? How does the pact work? Are they resistant to demon and human weaknesses? Will they have some inheritance of the kingdom? He’s throwing out so many inquiries, even Diavolo has a hard time keeping up. 

The only thing the prince could tell Satan was that he didn’t know. The prince had never come into contact with a demon/human offspring before, he wasn’t even sure if there were others out there. Even if there were, the hybrids themselves probably wouldn’t even know. After all, it wasn’t until their arrival to the Devildom till MC’s powers had been ignited. Satan, unsatisfied with the lack of information, decided that he’d have to record, document, and discover everything himself. 

Which meant MC would hardly be out of his sight. 

Someone has to almost restrain him from experimenting too much on them, but he’s practically vibrating with excitement. Unexplored knowledge, something new for him to pursue. He decides to start off easy and safe, and by that he means taking MC into his room to have a deep interview session with them, not letting them go till they’ve told him every aspect of their lives up till now. Not only did he learn a lot about them that day, but he remembered that despite his vast knowledge...there was too much he didn’t know. 

Their updated appearance didn’t change his feelings about them, and he’d control his curiosity for the most part on behalf of their sake...and health. Although, not even Diavolo himself could get rid of the temptation completely. 

“MC!” Satan exclaimed, bringing in an armful of items into their room with a genuine gleeful curl to his lips. He set things down on their bed, items that...MC was wary about, but it was so difficult to deny him this when he was so elated about the whole thing. Plus, he’d given them endless hours of attention, and MC would be lying to themselves if they said they didn’t enjoy it. “Now, before we continue...what are your thoughts on poison?” Singling out a vial, he presented it to the exchange student. “Or rather, I suppose the proper term would be ‘being poisoned’.” 

MC let out a loud exhale, shifting their shoulders as their wings twitched against them. “Satan, you know I’m very happy to help you with your research, but I’m not guzzling poison on the off chance that I have a resistance for it.” 

He swiftly pulled out another tiny glass bottle. “Even if I have the antidote right here?” MC’s eyebrows lowered. “No? Alright,” Satan conceded, “We can come back to this later.” Next he put on a thick pair of oven mitts, pulling out a set of tongs as he tilted his head back and reached into the box. MC’s thoughts raced with ideas of what this dangerous item could be. And then...Satan pulled out a Holy Book. 

“Wait, really? Just a book?” MC couldn’t help but huff over the irony of Satan being afraid of a book. “I’m pretty sure I’ve touched one before.” 

His face scrunched up in annoyance at being teased. “It’s not just any old book, MC, it’s not like demons reel back at any mention of our father. This one has been blessed by Simeon.” The demon of wrath brought it over, holding it within reach. With that...MC hesitated a bit. They wouldn’t get burned right? They at one point had been blessed directly by the angel! Taking a deep breath, they held out a single finger, letting it drift slowly toward the cover. Breath held, teeth clenched, they touched the holy book with their fingertip. Nothing, not even a tingling sensation, however, in a bit of revenge, they reeled back, exclaiming as they cradled their hand near their chest. 

Satan got so startled, he flung the book to the side, rushing over to grab MC’s wrist. “Hold on, hold on, let me see, let me-” He observed their skin, noticing no irritation, and then picked up on the mocking smirk on their face. Lowering his eyes and head, he took the hint. After all, even them just acting as if they were in pain reminded him that there was no way he could put them in danger. “You’ve bested me, no more tests…” 

“No more dangerous tests,” MC corrected, watching him splutter as they booped the end of his nose with the finger they’d ‘burnt’. 

Together, with his wits and MC’s patience, they’d discover what new surprises half-demon had to offer. 

Asmo

Shrieking with surprise, Asmo nearly fainted. The sleek horns, the velvety wings! He’d already adored MC from the get-go but now he was obsessed. He ran over and jumped up and down in excitement, begging to touch their new features. With permission, he ran his hands all over them. The horns were smooth, sharp, but he could tell they weren’t as strong as they should be, like newborn demon horns. The wings were powerful, beautiful. He ran his hand over the sheer skin and heard MC gasp. Extremely sensitive, as they should be. 

Did someone say shopping spree? Because he did! They’re going to need new clothes for their form. He can’t stand to see them try to tuck their wings under their usual shirts, and of course they’d have to replace a few outfit casualties as they’d been either rendered to shreds or riddled with holes. Getting stuff done with their new demon features is a whole new ballgame than they’re used to! 

But they had nothing to worry about, Asmo is there to teach them all about their new body. 

MC, of course, is a bit embarrassed at first, but without having anyone else to really depend on, and having zero knowledge on this type of stuff, they look to him for help with the delicate things. He helps them get dressed till they’re used to it. He helps wash and clean them, teaching them proper methods for horn and wing care/hygiene. Most of all, he really assures them that what they’re feeling is natural. Ever since the transformation, their wings have been twitchy and their horns have been infuriatingly irritated. 

He sympathizes, he remembers what it was like, he remembers the shock of it all. If only he had someone there to help him and his brothers through it when they’d changed. He won’t let that stress happen to MC, it’s not healthy!

The scraping and scratching could be heard from outside their room. Asmo’s chest filled with pity. As he opened the door, he observed them rub their horns against the bed frame. Gashes and missing chunks ruined the carved wood. As much as it pained him, he found himself scolding the exchange student anyway. “MC!” He’d left for just a few minutes, a few! And already they’d begun to do exactly what he warned them not to do. 

Eyes watery, they looked up to him with a painful expression on their face. “It won't stop, Asmo!” 

He pursed his lips, unable to be too harsh when he knew how irritating growing horns could be. “I know, darling, but your poor bed!” Placing down the things he’d brought over, he squatted down in front of them and cupped their cheek as he turned their head from side to side. “And your poor horns!” The top thin layer coating the new pesky things sticking out of their head now had small splinters of wood stuck in them. He tutted at MC, glad he’d had the foresight to bring along tweezers. Gently, he guided them up to their bed, sitting behind them as he began to pluck the splinters out. Anytime his hands got close, MC instinctively moved to bump their horns against him. “Try not to move, darling, the faster I get these out the faster you’ll feel better.”

“I’m sorry, Asmo,” MC groaned, tightening their neck and shoulders as they focused on remaining still. 

“Nothing to worry about, dear. You’re taking this new beautiful form of yours extremely well, all things considered.” Once the last sliver of wood had been removed, he brushed his hands over their smooth horns, rubbing the base of them between his fingers. They jutted their head against his hands, taking a deep breath at the sensation. But he wasn’t done yet, he’d brought over some special solution to encourage horn growth. Smearing the mixture in his hands, he then began to massage it into the new protrusions. They melted into his touch, grateful for some relief, but eventually gasping when the touch of his soft skin was exchanged with an odd firmness. Nearly purring, Asmo had changed into his own demon form to rub his horns against MC’s. It was like finally being able to scratch that one itch just out of their reach. “Better?” He cooed, giggling when all MC could do was hum in response, shifting their head up and down, faces side to side as they worked to rub their horns together at every angle. 

Demon form? Human form? He loved MC either way with everything in between, and he hoped he could help them feel that way too.

Beel

He started off more concerned than anything. Was he one of the only ones upset that they had been locked away and almost attacked in order to get this result? In fact, while everyone was taking their time with their own reactions and revelations, he went over to MC and made sure they felt safe. They’d been frightened enough to change without meaning to, and the added swarm of information and the shock of the sudden change drove them into a fit. Making sure they were okay was more important than discussing their new looks. 

Once everyone had settled and Beel made sure MC was home and comfortable, then he started thinking more about it. Does that mean they were stronger than normal humans? Could they start to do more things demons could do? He started thinking about all the foods he adored but were deemed poisonous to humans. Maybe they could eat those! He could share some of his favorites! But...he didn’t want to risk it. 

Without knowing for sure what they could and could not handle, he’d continue to treat MC as if they were a normal human anyway, which MC greatly appreciated sometimes. 

Although, Beel quickly discovered that continuing to act like MC was still a typical human...wouldn’t quite work out in his favor either. MC had quickly started to figure out what they were capable of, spiraling more and more out of control the more invincible they felt they’d become, which almost gave this boy a heart attack. Once, they’d figured out they could climb walls, but ended up getting their claws stuck in the ceiling and had to wait for Beel to tug them free. Another time, he’d walked in just in time, pulling MC away just before they could grab onto one of Satan’s cursed books. 

He’d have to watch them like a hawk to make sure they didn’t accidentally dive headfirst into danger. 

“Where’s MC?” Beel asked his twin, returning from a trip to the kitchen, the remnants of his snack still remaining on his chin. 

Belphie looked up from his pillow, eyes still glazed over with sleep. “Hmm? Oh...they must’ve left.” As he yawned and blinked away tired tears, the demon of sloth shrugged. “Last I remember, they said something about wanting to pet a puppy.” Nestling back into his pillow, he grumbled. “But they know...Lucifer won’t let us have any...ani...” And then he was back asleep.

Beel wiped away the last few crumbs off his face, licking them off of his fingers before feeling a jolt of panic. No! Certainly MC hadn’t meant…! Bolting, he rushed past some of his brothers with the intensity and muscle of a charging bull. Luckily, he caught up to them just as they attempted to go inside the crypt that was home to big grumpy Cerberus. He didn’t even give MC a chance to notice him before he grabbed them by the back of their shirt and slung them over his shoulder, one arm pinning their wings to their back so they couldn’t struggle. 

“B-Beel, wait! I just wanted to play with him! Hey! Hold on!” Their pleas were falling on deaf ears, but they were stronger than he remembered, allowing them to break free and leave him staggering for just a moment. That moment was long enough for them to fly up to the rafters, a frisky shimmer reflecting off their eyes. 

Beel folded his arms, starting off with a stern stare. “MC, it’s too dangerous.” 

“I can handle it! I know it! Please, Beel?” He watched them leap from beam to beam, his heart thumping wildly with every movement. “I just have this energy! This urge to do something crazy!” He blinked, taking in the words for a moment before realizing that all his hand-holding and protectiveness had stifled them and bottled up all their demonic urges till they finally boiled over. Everyone had been so focused on all the other aspects that he forgot how badly demons loved to just play. 

His face fell as he felt disappointment in himself for not noticing soon enough. He needed to stop constantly fearing for them. Then, he raised his head, nodding to them as he spoke. “Tackle me,” he stated. 

MC tilted their head. “What?” 

“Tackle me. Come at me as hard as you can. You won’t hurt me, I promise.” MC took some time to think, before a lively smile formed on their face. They dived from the rafters towards him, skidding against the floor as Beel avoided them with a single side-step. Beel gave MC a moment to figure out that he’d dodged before running away. Of course, he wasn’t at his full speed, giving MC a chance to catch up easily. He’d almost made it all the way up to his own room before a heavy weight threw itself on his shoulders. It wasn’t enough to send him to the floor, but he had to catch himself from falling over. MC crawled over him, playful growls rumbling in their chest as they continued to try to force him to the floor. “Not quite,” Beel laughed, pulling them off of his body and placing them aside. “Let’s try again.” 

Until it got out of they’re system, Beel hoped he could be a suitable replacement for all the chaotic things they wished to do. 

Belphie 

The first thing he did when he caught eyes on MC was blink and then sigh. What a crazy dream he was having. Getting trapped in the colosseum, almost getting mauled on by a fierce monster? And now MC was before him with wings and horns and Diavolo had just announced that he was essentially MC’s half brother? Yeah right. Someone needed to wake him up already, this dream was getting too weird. 

It wasn’t till they all got home and got a good night’s sleep till he realized it was real. Waking up to go to breakfast and see that they still were having a hard time with their form? It wasn’t a dream...they were...half demon? 

These crazy feelings and questions had already left him exhausted, and he just had gotten up from a solid 14 hours of sleep.

It takes him a while to adjust, after all, he’s got some baggage from events best-not-mentioned, and this new predicament has left him feeling pretty guilty. Although, something about it gives him hope. At one point, he’d adored the human world, and seeing that the human he’d begun to adore was also half demon? Maybe it was a sign that humanity wasn’t so terrible after all. Maybe Diavolo was right about the whole...peace between worlds thing, as tiring as it sounded. As long as he didn’t have to do much about it, he didn’t mind. It didn’t affect him much, right? He could still sleep. However...cuddling with MC now proved to be more of a hassle than usual. Whether their wings would pop out at random times and push him away, or their horns ending up almost poking an eye out, he wanted to find a solution quickly. 

The one thing he refused to give up was comfortable naps with MC. 

“Beeelllphiiie,” they whined. “I want to go to bed, this isn’t necessary.” 

He ignored them, trying to push past the fact that he found them especially adorable when they were tired. But he felt it was absolutely necessary, after all, this was the third time those pesky horns of theirs nearly left a scratch mark on his cheek. He couldn’t believe how inconvenient this was for him. (He’s kinda a brat like that, but he does his best) He continued to work, pulling multiple fluffy socks over their horns, stuffed with layers of the filling from the pillow they’d accidently torn open. “I’m almost done.” 

“Belphie!” MC shook their head, reaching up in an attempt to remove his work. “It feels weird.”

Grasping their wrists, he frowned. “So does getting poked with these in the middle of the night,” he quipped. His exasperation quickly turned into smug laughter as he observed his handiwork. With a palm, he squeezed the new protection over MC’s horns, unable to feel the sharpness of them. 

MC vigorously shook their head again, but the padding stayed. “I don’t like it.” 

“Then learn to control your form,” he retorted, dragging them back over to bed, holding in laughter again as they stumbled, the added weight to their head throwing them off balance. 

They didn’t take kindly to all his back talk and cheekiness. Grabbing his pillow from their bed, they decked him over the head with it. “If you can’t be nice, you can leave,” MC huffed, crawling back into bed with their back turned to him, attempting to find a comfortable position. Their lack of decent sleep after this whole thing had happened had left them in a grumpy mood. That, and well, maybe he did push things too far. 

“I’m sorry.” From sour to sweet in seconds. He sat on the bed, pressing his hand against their shoulder blades. “I know you can’t help it. It must be uncomfortable, huh?” He could recall what it was like, his horns and new tail had bothered him for quite some time after the change. He rubbed their back and shoulders, pleased with himself when MC turned over on their other side to face him. 

“I’m so tired,” they whispered. 

“I know.” Belphie pulled the covers back over them, settling in his own spot beside them before giving their fluffy horns one last squeeze. “Let’s get some sleep.” 

If there was anything he could help with, it was the luxury of comfort. Until MC settles back into their own skin, he’ll make the transition as cozy for them as possible.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie

[wagner-fell]

I am still very new to this website and I don’t know how link a post but this fic is based on a post by @sandersgrey

(If someone reading this knows how to link a post please either explain it to me or link it in the comments because that post is *amazing*)

“Hmmm,” said Tessa, depositing Mina into Kit’s waiting arms and examining her buzzing phone critically. She shot a quizzical look in his direction.

Jem looked up from his novel. “What is ‘hmmm’, my love?”

Kit mimed vomiting but stopped dead in his tracks when she replied, “it’s Astrid’s mother. You remember her from parent teacher night, don’t you, my darling?” Kit swears they were being extra insufferable just to mess with him but he didn’t have the time to be annoyed when Astrid’s. Mom. Was. Calling. Tessa.

To understand why Kit was panicking as much as he was, you must know that Astrid’s mom was incredibly chill. She never got mad. The worst punishment she’d ever given her daughter was taking away her iPod for a week so she couldn’t listen to Mitski.

Was she calling about last night when Astrid, Mari and Kit threw eggs at the Shadowhunter’s that were giving Mari’s pack a hard time for no reason? No, that couldn’t be it. She’d given them the eggs.

Could the call be about the day before yesterday when Kit and Astrid got distracted doing homework and ended up snapping the coffee table clean in half while battling gladiator style with pool noodles? No, that wasn’t it. She’d just handed Astrid a twenty and told them to go to Kevin’s parents' shop and get a new one. Was she pissed because they ended up spending the money on ice cream instead? No, they ended up finding a table for free in the rubbing bin outside a fancy hotel.

Kit clutched his sister to his chest and prepared for the worst.

“Seo-yoon! What can I do for- Oh, hello Astrid!” Tessa paused briefly, presumably to listen to Astrid speak, and Kit sighed in relief.

“Kit is occupied at the moment but I can relay the message.” Another pause. “Oh don’t be frightened of me. I’m a tots rad mom. Your secret is safe with me.” Kit felt his face flush red as he heard his best friend’s laughter echo across the living room. “Okay! I’ll let him know. He has to get Mina to sleep before he can leave though. Lord knows he’s the only one who can these days.” Tessa chuckled at something Astrid said before wishing her good luck in her endeavour and ending the call.

She turned her attention back to Kit. “Astrid needs your help breaking into your teacher’s home to retrieve her cell phone.”

Kit blinked at her, dumbfounded. “You aren’t mad I’m going to go break the law?”

Because of course he was doing it. Astrid’s dad had bought it for her and he was extremely cautious about money. That was one of three things Kit knew about her dad. He was cheap, he lived in America and he loved the movie Fight Club.

Tessa ruffled Kit’s hair affectionately. “Please. I’ve raised two other Herondales. At least I know about this particular adventure beforehand.”

Mina began snoring softly and Kit handed her back to her mother. He grabbed his bag and started his journey to the door when Tessa added, “she also told me to say hi to a ‘daddy Kit’. Are you ‘daddy Kit?’”

‘Daddy Kit’ closed his eyes and wished for the sweet release of death.

“Why is Kit a daddy,” Jem asked, genuinely confused. “Aren’t I the daddy?”

Kit swung the door open so fast not even a speed rune could have aided him. But not before I heard Tessa reply, “Lily Chen certainly thinks so.”

Mrs. MacNamara clapped her hands together. “Why don’t we all go around and say a few things about ourselves?”

Kit buried his face into his hands. He’d been relieved when no other teacher had fulfilled the Disney channel stereotype of making every student introduce themselves to the new kid. But Mrs. MacNamara didn’t even seem to realize what she was doing.

All Kit’s fellow classmates groan. Expect one. Her hand shot up immediately. She was short, like smaller than Clary short. She wore a baggy pink shirt with the words ‘Queen Glimmer of Etheria’ sewed on with purple sequins and tight black jeans. Her colourful, choppy hair was in a low ponytail and she flew a few strands out of her eyes as her hand wiggled in the hair.

Mrs. MacNamara pointed at her. She stood up and smiled at Kit. “Hi. My name is Astrid. My hobbies include making my little cousin’s girl Barbies kiss, as it should be, and watching television shows where everyone is a terrible person so you can love all of them!”

“And what shows might that be?” asked Kit, already in the process of pulling out his phone and opening the Notes app.

“Grey’s Anatomy, Glee, Grey’s Anatomy again because it’s seventeen seasons as of right now. And to be fair it practically became a different show when they killed off Mark Sloan.”

“That’s enough, Miss Yang,” said Mrs. MacNamara. Astrid sat down and winked at Kit. Then she took out her phone and airdropped him a complete list of all her favorite shows, along with her number.

After Blessica’s pre-birthday birthday party, they went to Cirenworth and stayed up till four A.M. binging them.

They met outside a queer dry bar called Aries Not Welcome, the unspoken gathering place of the Merry Hoes. It was run by a poly lesbian couple in their mid-thirties. Quinn, Sydney and Aliyah may not have served alcohol but at least they were open 24/7.

“Did you bring the shit?”

Kit gave her a look. “The shit? How conclusive.”

“Shut up. You know, the shadowhunter thing.”

“The shadowhunter thing?”

“The, the, the glow stick that you draw with.”

“The glow stick that I draw wi-“ Kit closed his eyes briefly. “Do you mean a stele?”

Astrid snapped her fingers. “That’s it!” Kit shook his head in exasperation, smiling fondly. “I borrowed a torch from Quinn, let’s move.”

“Should I be worried that you know where Mr. Smith lives?” questioned Kit as he followed Astrid’s lead through the park.

“Should I be worried that your mom was fine with us breaking and entering?” she shot back playfully. Kit pushed Astrid and she fell off the path, laughing all the way.

“You called me ‘daddy’ to my mom’s face.”

She just laughed harder, slinging her arm around Kit’s shoulder. “It was over the phone, Christopher. And as I should.”

“Pffffttt. Why did you get your phone taken anyway?” She put her hands into her jumper pocket and looked at the ground. “Astrid.” She remained silent. “Astrid?”

She mumbled something under her breath. “What?” asked Kit.

“I WAS READING NINEJ FANFICTION!” she shouted.

Kit gasped. “I thought you were a die hard Kanej shipper,” he whispered.

“I’m a multishipper, okay?!” she replied, equally quiet.

“Does Blessica know?”

She shook her head. “And she will never find out.”

Kit saw the opportunity and he seized it. “She’ll never find out as long as you never call me daddy in front of either of my parents.”

She removed her arm from his shoulder and guided them out of the park, in the direction of the many apartments that lined this side of town. “I hate you.”

“Well, so does Mari. You're not special, Ast.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know Mari doesn’t actually hate you, right?! They’re just still in the enemy phase of your enemies-to-lovers romance. She only dislikes you because they feel something for you but they don’t know what so she interrupts it as loathing. In reality, her inner soul knows you’re hot and shmexie.”

Kit didn’t know how to process this so he just nodded and follow Astrid in silence to Mr. Smith’s house. (Plus, he was kinda glad that, according to his best friend, he had a little more time for Mari to ‘discover their true feelings’. If Kit screwed this up, he was out of countries to run off to.)

“Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“What,” asked Kit, turning around to face Astrid and closing the drawer he was rifling through. “Did you find your phone?”

“Yeah. But I also found Blessica’s. She was Snapping Kevin. Platonic my ass. But he took the fucking trans flag out of her phone!”

Kit snatched Blessica’s phone out of her hand to examine it for herself. She was telling the truth. Where the glitter pride flag usually rested was just a clear purple case. Kit couldn’t believe his eyes.

“It’s one thing to misgender her every day.” Blessica had forced all four of the other Merry Hoes to sign a contract saying they wouldn’t do anything to harm him because of it. “But this is the last straw. You know what we have to do.” Oops.

“Yeah, but we don’t have any spray paint.”

Kit eyed Mr. Smith’s pink sofa, blue bar stool covers and white picture frames. “I think I have something better in mind.”

It would have been easier for both parties to just zip off the sofa cushions and tape them to the wall but by ripping them off in strips, they ensured he would have to buy new ones. And judging by the car he drove and the fiji water in his fridge, Mr. Smith could definitely afford it.

That reminded him, “I’ll finish up with this. Go put all his fiji water into my bag.” Astrid saluted him and ran off. “Wait.” She stopped and looked at him. “Steal all the remotes you can find.”

“How is he not awake?,” asked Astrid as they ripped the fabric of his seating from the stool.

He shrugged. “Don’t question it.” He shoved the bundle of cloth into her arms. “Glue this above the pink. I’ll handle the frames.”

“Say the magic word,” she sang.

“Please?”

“No. Lesbian. Come on, I thought you knew me better than that.”

Kit laughed quietly. “Can you lesbian glue this above the pink?”

She grinned at Kit. “It would be my pleasure.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hello! Sorry I haven’t written anything in so long. School just restarted and it has been…a lot.

@adoravel-fenomeno @thechangeling @the-blackdale @the-wckd-powers @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @im-not-ruined-im-ruination @ithurielkeepsgettingkidnapped @noah-herondale-lightwood @arangiajoan @shelvesofgold @maxboythedog @book-dragon-not-worm @hardlymatters

Very sorry if I forgot anyone. Lmk if you want to be addEd/removEd from the tag list.

#mari the werewolf #mari machado sotomayor #mari machado #kit rook #kit herondale #astrid yang #blessica reyes #Kevin chu #tessa grey #jem carstairs #lily chen #mina carstairs

[sokkascroptop]

traitor. (sokka x f!reader) pt 22

part 1 | part 21 | part 23

a/n: just for clarification... one of these days Y/N will be happy. I promise. For being set in prison, this is a pretty upbeat chapter. She’s surrounded by her simps so that helps. Also, let it be clear, no Sokka/Suki kiss in her cell for obvious reasons. I like to think of her as being really happy for Sokka and Y/N, plus she’s like soooo wlw.  

Y/N had heard all about The Boiling Rock. 

It was the most notorious prison in the Fire Nation which meant kids at school had endless stories and rumors about the place. That also meant that any knowledge that Y/N could remember about the place was probably not true. 

She spent the whole balloon ride there chewing on the skin around her nails and wondering what was going to happen once she got there. 

Y/N tried not to think about the harsh words her father had said to her. It had been the same rhetoric he had spouted over the years, before and after bad training sessions, or any time she got into any type of trouble. It didn’t matter that it was the same thing she’d hear time and time again–about how she lacked the strength and determination that all of her ancestors had carried high on their shoulders–it all still hurt. Each and every time she heard it, she started to believe it a little more. The games her father liked to play on her mind were always bound to catch up to her. Even though she had just learned that her father would rather see her dead than alive on the other side of the war, she was still feeling guilty for disappointing him again. 

Y/N took a deep breath through her nose filling her lungs with the hot air from inside the airship. She held for a pause and let it out slowly; she kept doing that, staving off the tears that were bound to come. It would be better for her if she didn’t cry in front of her fellow prisoners. She would only need to keep her cool for a little bit longer, tonight, when she was alone in the cell she would get to call home, she could muffle her cries into the lumpy pillow that was bound to be under her head. And then she could be happily numb to it all. Her father, the war, her friends. Sokka. Feelings couldn’t be felt at Boiling Rock. The only way she was going to survive was if she felt nothing at all. 

Y/N spent the day as they travelled looking around the airship at the rest of the prisoners on board. They were all in separate cells and she was only able to visualize a few of them. Large men with lots of tattoos seemed to be the main character, but one thing was certain. Hakoda wasn’t one of them. Y/N didn’t want to think about why he was left behind.

The farther they traveled the warmer it got too. The metal that surrounded them was unforgiving and trapped the humidity making it hard to breathe. Y/N wanted to drop to her knees and thank the gods when she finally felt the airship touch the ground. Except that outside it was just as hot as inside and smelled like sulfur from the volcano the prison was situated on. 

Each and every prisoner was handcuffed before they stepped off the airship. The guard that had waved fire in her face and threatened to burn Y/N’s fingers off latched hers. He was young and smirked at her as he tightened the cuffs to the point that her hands went numb. Y/N leaned forward and spit on his boots before she stepped away.

She was shuffled onto one of the gondolas with the rest of the prisoners in a single file line. Y/N did her best to school her expression. Terror spread through her body like a wildfire, so strong that her knees shook, but this was the last place she needed to look scared. She tightened her jaw and stared blankly ahead of her. Staying blissfully numb wasn’t working quite yet. She began to think about her friends; where they were and how they were doing. Was Aang still worried about firebending? Or had his worries shifted to the comet by now? Was Katara trying to mediate the situation? Was Sokka mad at Y/N? She groaned inwardly. Oh man, he would be mad when he found out what she got herself into. 

Y/N picked at the collar of the shirt they’d made her change into. It was thick, almost burlap material. They even smelled like it too. It itched her neck and her back where it touched her skin just a little too much. The pants were no better on her waist. After making her change in front of them, the female guards had let her into the yard that Y/N had seen from the gondola. Y/N kicked her shoe against the packed dirt and looked at her surroundings. High walls surrounded her, topped with razor-sharp wire. It was a meaningless deterrent, the whole prison was surrounded by a boiling lake, no one could get out of here. 

Y/N leaned against the wall as she surveyed the prisoners around her. 

Then, Y/N did a double take.

It was impossible. It couldn’t be. Suki?

Y/N felt her feet fly under her as she ran to the girl; she paid no mind to the people she bumped into or pushed out of the way, Y/N just had to know if it was true. 

“Suki? Is that you?”

She looked so different from the last time Y/N had seen her. Her face was free of the pale Kyoshi makeup and much tanner than Y/N had remembered. How long had it been since they’d met? Y/N asked herself. Weeks? Months even? 

She was sitting on a bench in the middle of the yard, leaning back on her hands, but quickly stood up when Y/N approached her. Y/N was sure the girls hair was longer too. Half of it was pulled up and tied at the back of her head. It was choppy at the ends, much like Y/N’s was when Katara had first cut it, like she had been cutting it herself since being here. Suki’s brown eyes were expressionless when she looked back at Y/N. If she recognized Y/N, she didn’t show it. Either Suki had mastered the look of emptiness that was needed to survive, or she had fallen into a pit of despair. It had been months, Y/N concluded.

Suddenly, as if she had been struck by lightning, she cocked her head to the side. “Y/N?”

Y/N grinned and walked directly up to Suki. She didn’t know what she expected from the girl. A bow? A handshake? Maybe even a hug for having slipped her that fan before leaving? I mean, Y/N didn’t exactly know about Azula’s plan in the first place and she surely didn’t realize that even after trying to help them escape Azula would have the Kyoshi warriors captured and imprisoned. Suki would understand.

---

Suki did not understand. 

She wound her arm back and punched Y/N so hard in the mouth that she saw stars. 

Y/N crouched on the ground holding a hand against her throbbing bottom lip. Her eyes watered from the pain and when she pulled her hand away it was spotted with blood. More blood from her cut lip dripped onto the ground and balled up in the dirt. Y/N spit what was in her mouth out to the side. She ran her tongue against the cut her tooth made, lapping up any blood before it could run down her chin. She could hear the ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ of the other prisoners around them; they had formed a tight circle around her and Suki, itching to watch the cat fight they knew was bound to ensue and protecting them from the prying eyes of any guards near.

Y/N stood up and faced Suki. “That hurt.” Was all Y/N could think of to say. 

Surprisingly, she wasn’t even mad. Somehow it made her feel good. Suki was still there. She wasn’t as empty as Y/N thought her to be from first glance. Something about the presence of Y/N reawakened something in Suki. Y/N could see fire in her eyes as she held up her hands, preparing for a defense she wasn’t going to need. 

“Good,” Suki smiled. 

“Now what?” Y/N asked. She brushed her thumb past the cut and licked the blood off it. 

“Now, we’re even.” 

--- a few weeks later

Sokka peeked around the corner of the wall. “I still don’t see her.”

“Well, she’s gotta be around here somewhere.”

“What if she’s not here, Zuko. What if you heard wrong from Azula?” Sokka’s hands were sweaty and it wasn’t because of the heat. 

“She’s here.” Zuko’s words didn’t necessarily comfort Sokka’s pounding heart, but it was nice to be able to rely on someone else’s confidence for once. 

Sokka looked from side to side, scanning each and every prisoner. It shouldn’t have been so hard, most of them were huge guys with beefy arms, he was looking for the only teenage girl within miles. He was just about to suggest to Zuko that they find somewhere else to continue their search–maybe somewhere higher where they could look down–when he spotted her. 

“There!” Sokka pointed at her for Zuko. Her arms were resting on her thighs and she was staring at the ground between her feet. “I’ll go pull her aside and tell her what’s going on.” Sokka stood up from their hiding place only to be immediately pulled back down by Zuko. 

“Hey, what are you–” he started.

“Sokka, look. That girl, next to Suki. Is that–?” Zuko trailed off with wide eyes, his hand never leaving Sokka’s biceps as he stared. 

Sokka looked back to Suki and–

Sokka couldn’t stop staring either. That was Y/N. His Y/N. Here. At Boiling Rock. Standing right there in front of him. 

The last image he had of her was burned into his mind. Her standing on the cliffside with his father and half his tribe behind her as she watched him go. He’d hung over the back of Appa’s saddle until they were miles away and it had been hours since he’d seen her. 

And now she was here with her hand on her hip, looking–surveying the yard around her. Suki was doing the same from her seat next to her. As Y/N turned more his way he could see a bruise high on her cheek and split lip even from how far away he was. She was practically looking directly at him but there was no recognition on her face. Of course there wouldn’t be. He was wearing a guards helmet. He was dressed like one more of her enemies. 

Suddenly her face broke into a smile as she began to laugh at something Suki had said. Sokka could feel his heart skip three beats. He wanted to run to her, but he knew he couldn’t. Everything in their original plan had changed now. If she was here, was his father here too?

---

Y/N lay curled up her side on her cot. Even though it was the middle of the day she was trying to fit a nap in. Hell, there wasn’t anything else to do. The darkness of her cell helped but trying to fall asleep was always half the battle, day or night. She was exhausted, never getting more than a few hours a night, but even then sleep evaded her. The mattress was too lumpy and the clothes were too itchy and the cell was too hot but the worst part was that she was alone. She hadn’t slept alone in months, and it showed now. She used to think that Appa’s snoring was annoying and that Katara talking in her sleep was distracting but now, Y/N missed it. She missed the crackle of the fire and the soft breathing of all her friends around her. She missed the wind in the trees, rustling the leaves and the gurgle of creeks nearby. Most of all, she missed the comfort of her friends being near. The secure feeling of being able to sit up after waking from a nightmare and count the sleeping bodies around you and know that you were safe because they would never let anything happen to you. 

Thinking about being near them again allowed her to drift off into a doze. She was in that state of half sleep when she heard the click of metal as her door was opened. Y/N’s eyes snapped open, but she didn’t move. Whoever was in her cell with her was trying to be quiet. Y/N waited until they got close enough to surprise them. 

She sat up quickly and turned on them. “What are you doing in here?”

The guard jumped back like they didn’t expect her to wake up. “I–”

“What are you doing?” Y/N stood up and took a step towards them. 

The guard held up their hands defensively. “Wait, Y/N it’s me!”

Y/N gasped when she heard his voice. It was unmistakable, she didn’t need to watch as he lifted his helmet off because she was already barreling forward to pull him into a hug. 

“Zuko, what are you doing here?” Y/N asked, her nose pressed into his chest. She hadn’t hugged her friend in a long, long time. After everything they had been through, she didn’t know if she ever would again. Despite everything that had gone down between the two of them in the last few months, it was a relief to see a friendly face. Even if the last time she saw him he was throwing fire at her. “How did you know I was here?”

“We didn’t–”

Y/N pulled away as her eyes widened. “We? Is Azula here?” Y/N could feel her heart beat a little faster. Of course Azula would be there too. Probably the second they heard of her capture they came to rescue her. Even after all of it, Y/N still meant that much to them, right? Azula and Y/N might not have parted on the best of terms but even she was smart enough to know that Boiling Rock wasn’t where Y/N belonged. Zuko standing in her cell was proof enough of that. 

It might have been child-like wishful thinking, but maybe Azula had rethought Y/N offer to come with her. Maybe both her and Zuko had changed their minds...

Zuko shook his head slowly, then began to chuckle. “I guess it’s been a long time since we talked.”

Azula wasn’t there to save her. Y/N hated that she deflated with disappointment. Y/N was silent which Zuko took as his cue to explain. 

“I left the Fire Nation—“

Y/N’s jaw dropped. 

“—the day of the Black Sun. And I–well, I joined up with your friends. I’m the Avatar’s new firebending teacher.” Zuko scratched the back of his neck and laughed uncomfortably. 

Y/N shook her head to clear it. Her thoughts were whirling inside her brain. No Azula but–“Wait, so does that mean Sokka is here? Toph? Where are they?” Y/N grabbed hastily at Zuko’s sleeves.

“Sokka is getting Suki.”

“Suki?” For a brief moment, Y/N forgot that her friend was even in the cell down the hall. 

“Well, yeah we decided that it wouldn’t be the best I went in there.”

“Wait… so if you didn’t even know I was here until you got here, were you coming to get her?” Y/N couldn’t help that jealousy crawled up her throat and forced its way into her words at the thought that somewhere very near her, Sokka was meeting up with Suki and not her.

“Why do I feel like I said the wrong thing?” 

“No!” Y/N said defensively. “No, just..” Now it was Y/N’s turn to laugh awkwardly. “What’s the plan?” 

“I’ll let Sokka tell you that, he’s the plan guy. Come on, we’ll meet at Suki’s cell.” It was almost like Zuko was trying to reassure her. Sokka was here. Not just here at Boiling Rock–but near her–just walls away. Y/N wanted to feel embarrassed at the way her heart sped up, embarrassed at how much she had missed Sokka and how much she had realized that she relied on him for so much since they had met. Y/N wasn’t supposed to rely on anyone. 

Zuko opened Y/N’s cell door, motioning for her to go out ahead of him. Out of an abundance of precaution, Y/N glanced to the left and then to the right first, looking for any sign of a real guard outside making rounds. When there was none, she stepped out, and felt a weight lift off her chest. Y/N wondered if this was all really happening or if it was some cruel dream she would wake up from. 

However, that was a mistake on her part–to hope for something that hadn’t happened in the first place. She should have waited until she was miles away to let out that breath she had been holding since she arrived. 

Stepping from around the corner was the female guard that was always assigned to this cell block. Y/N forced her feet to keep moving forward and hastened to remind herself that to an outsider, neither her or Zuko had done anything wrong; yet. Y/N nudged him in the ribs and hoped that he would take the hint. Luckily, Zuko was on the same page and grabbed her bicep roughly, like he was escorting an unruly prisoner.

 Y/N turned her head slightly to the side, letting her hair fall across her face, hiding her identity. This guard in particular was not the biggest fan of hers, always saying Y/N was too mouthy and threatening to send her to the cooler every chance she got. Even if Y/N had been led out of her cell for a legitimate reason, she still probably would have stopped them. 

The guard was easily two steps away and had barely made a glance in Y/N’s and Zuko’s direction. At first Y/N thought they were home free. That is until the female guard slid in front of Zuko, blocking their path. “Where are you taking her?”

Y/N’s head snapped up and she felt instant regret as the guard realized who Zuko was escorting. Beside her, Y/N could feel Zuko tense up, his hand tightening around her arm unconsciously. “I was uh, taking this prisoner to the yard,” Zuko stuttered out. 

Y/N wanted to facepalm. 

The guard frowned deeply. “This cell block has already been to the yard this morning. You should know that.”

Zuko’s hand was now a vice on Y/N’s arm, begging her to help him. He chuckled awkwardly. “Oh. Yeah, I’m–um–new?”

“I was unaware that we had anyone new working on this block…” The guard’s eyes widened underneath her mask and Y/N knew it was now or never. 

“Oh, for god’s sake,” Y/N growled. She ripped her arm out of Zuko’s grip and pushed the other woman down to the ground, holding her forearm to her neck. “Run!” She shouted to Zuko. 

Zuko took off immediately, his boots slapping against the metal floors. Y/N tried to watch him go while holding the guard down but she caught a knee to the stomach that made her wheeze and the woman tore into Y/N’s arm with her nails. “What are you doing?!” She screeched at Y/N.

The two of them rolled around on the ground, fighting for an advantage. Y/N grasped the guard’s long ponytail hauling her back and gripped her in a headlock. 

Zuko was nearly to the stairs, as soon as she could no longer see him, Y/N would let go and accept whatever punishment that would be thrown at her for attacking a guard, even if it meant going to the cooler. She could take it.

Just at that moment another guard came racing up the steps, apparently having heard the ruckus that Y/N had started. Except it wasn’t just another guard. It was Sokka. His helmet was hanging loosely from his hand, and it nearly slipped out of his grip when he saw the scene before him. 

Y/N and Sokka locked eyes for a beat and all of the air rushed out of her lungs as she gasped. 

It took just that moment of distraction for the female guard to gain the upperhand. She leaned forward and using Y/N’s arm, pulled her over her shoulder. Y/N landed hard on her back with a groan. She let the guard push her onto her stomach and kneel on her back as she yanked Y/N’s arms behind her. 

“Get him! He’s an imposter!” the guard shouted to Sokka. 

Y/N couldn’t see–her face was pressed into the cool metal floor, but she could hear the two boys scuffle before Sokka’s voice rang out, “Don’t worry, he won’t get away with this.”

The woman leaned close to Y/N’s ear. Her breath was hot and it made Y/N shudder. “Yeah, and neither will you.”

Y/N wasn’t focused on that right now. Not the interrogation or the punishment for whatever they thought her and Zuko were planning on doing. No, the only thing she focused on was Sokka’s words echoing over and over in her head. Don’t worry, don’t worry. 

She would never worry as long as Sokka was around to save her.

--- 

Y/N leaned her back against the wall of the cell they’d thrown her in. It was in a completely different part of the prison, one she had never seen before. So that couldn’t be good. 

The door slid open with a bang and Y/N couldn’t help but flinch at the sound. The warden smiled cruelly at her. “How did Prince Zuko know you were here?” He asked, right to the point. 

Y/N scoffed and crossed her arms. “Who?”

The warden chuckled darkly. “I know of your connection to the Fire Palace. You might pass anonymously through the crowds of criminals here, but your father sent a warning letter when you arrived, laying out everything you’ve done and everything I should be worried about when it comes to his precious little rebel.” 

Y/N raised her eyebrows but otherwise didn’t make a sound. The warden paced in front of her like her father had so many weeks before, taunting her with hurtful words. Y/N let her eyes slide out of focus as they tracked his movements across the room. 

“How did you get a message out of Boiling Rock to him?” He paused, standing in front of the open door. Y/N cocked her head and looked to the small opening between his body in the door. She couldn’t help the thoughts that intruded her mind about how small in stature the warden was and how fast she could run. There was a slight opening that she could take to run, given the chance, but there were guards posted outside and she’d be caught quickly and easily. 

Y/N shrugged noncommittally. It was no use trying to argue against him, he wouldn’t believe anything she had to say. And she and Zuko had literally been caught doing exactly what they had been accused of. “Maybe I’m just that good.”

 Besides anything she did say could risk Sokka’s disguise. 

“Normally for a stunt like you just pulled, I’d lock you in the cooler for a week. I’d like to see how a non-bender would fare in there for that long.” A smile stretched over his wide lips. “But it might be more entertaining to just leave you to the masses. Everyone here might be a criminal, Y/N, but they are still mostly loyal to their country. And they don’t like people like you or Prince Zuko. It would be a shame for them to find out you were traitors to the Fire Nation.”

“Are you threatening to tell them?” Y/N couldn’t help but ask.

The warden mimed the same disinterested shrug she gave him earlier. “I won’t say anything. They’d have my job for that. But I can’t guarantee someone else won’t have a slip of the tongue in the future.”

The warden turned around and walked out, leaving Y/N with a feeling of urgency. She still didn’t know what Sokka’s plan was, but it was now or never for her and Zuko. Otherwise she had a feeling they could be in real danger. 

---

It was hours before the guards let her out of that cell. She was led back to her cell block and told to do her chores like she had never been taken to be interrogated by the warden in the first place. Y/N spotted Zuko in Y/N’s usual spot next to Suki, mopping the floor by the staircase. 

Y/N took the steps two at a time to get down to the both of them. She slid into the shadows, hiding from any guards who might see her not doing her job. 

“Y/N!” Suki’s eyebrows knitted with worry. “I heard what happened. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, the warden was just trying to scare me. Zuko, are you okay?”

He paused his mopping. “What did he say to you?”

Y/N shook her head. “Just some things about how we were working together. He was wondering how I got you to help me escape. He said that it would–” Y/N deepened her voice to mimic the warden, “’be a shame if the other prisoners found out who we were.’ ”

Zuko frowned. “He said that to me too.”

“That’s not good. We have to get out of here as soon as possible,” Suki said. 

“And we will.”

Y/N looked up to see Sokka hanging over the stair railing looking down at the three of them. 

“Sokka,” Y/N breathed in relief. As he came down the stairs to meet them, the only thing Y/N wanted to do was run and jump into his arms, but she knew she couldn’t. She couldn’t risk anyone seeing them. After what had happened with her and Zuko earlier, the guards were sure to keep a close eye on her. She settled for reaching a hand out and squeezing his tightly, trying to convey every emotion she was feeling into that single touch. 

Suki sent Y/N a pitying look. She knew how much Y/N had missed being back with her friends. Prison wasn’t good for a lot of things, but it was good for catching up between two people. And slowly through that, her and Suki had become friends, even if it was a bit unwilling at first. Suki and her had spent the first two days of Y/N arriving just recounting what had happened between the two of them. Y/N learned of the early days of Aang, Katara and Sokka’s travels, the first time they met Suki, even Suki teaching Sokka how to fight like a Kyoshi warrior. 

---

“He was so hopeless,” Suki had giggled. “It was like teaching a platypus-bear how to dance.” And Y/N had laughed. “He was the same when I first taught him how to sword fight!”

“I thought he had a little bit of a crush on me, you see,” Suki smiled slyly, “but when we met the second time in Ba Sing Se, I was sure he didn’t. He was different. More protective, but not in a love-type way. Like he was afraid for me, or what might happen to me.” 

“I don’t know why he’d ever be afraid of that. You’re tough as nails, Suki.” At that point, Suki had flipped her hair over her shoulder and grinned. “I know.” but then her voice lowered. “I don’t know, but I think something happened to him when he was in the North Pole. He didn’t elaborate, but he told me that he lost someone he was close to, and he just couldn’t have it happen again. That’s why he pushed me away. Well,” Suki rolled her eyes, “he kept me close just to keep me at arms length. And then I left them there, at the wall, so me and my girls could go back and help more refugees.”

“And then me.” Y/N chewed on her lip.

Suki watched her. “And then you.”

---

Suki was giving her that same look now. The one where her brown eyes could dig wells into Y/N’s soul. It was like she knew Y/N better than she knew herself. Although at one time there might have been jealousy hidden in those dark eyes, there was none now, just sadness, and understanding. She had spent countless hours with Y/N sharing even the most mundane details about their friends. It passed the time and kept hope alive that someday they might be rescued, even if it took until the end of the war for liberation. 

The foursome crouched down, hiding from any prying eyes. “I think I may have found a way out of here.” Sokka grinned mischievously.

---

Y/N stood on the banks of the boiling lake with Suki, waiting for Sokka to come back with Zuko and the cooler. The wind that blew in off the lake was hot and stifling but at least it was dark now. The night air gave some relief from the humidity. Y/N couldn’t wait to be off the island and well, anywhere else. 

“That was some fight,” Suki kicked at some of the rocks on the beach, doing her best to look disinterested.

She was talking about the fight that had been staged between Y/N and Zuko hours earlier to get him thrown in the cooler. At first it had been just that, a fake fight for a means to an end, but by the end the guards really were pulling them off each other, trying to stop them from killing each other. Y/N rubbed her bruised arm, the one that Zuko had kicked when she had blocked him. It was better than a busted face.

“It got out of hand. We both have tempers.” Y/N had no idea what had set either of them off. One minute they were throwing fake insults at one another, and the next minute Y/N had her hands fisted in the front of his tunic hoping to get another punch in before she was hauled away from him. She hadn’t even realized how mad she was at him until she had come down from the adrenaline high in her cell. And she had yet to figure out why it all came about.

Suki smirked and held up her hands, “Hey, no judgment from me. He burnt down my village, Y/N. He deserves the black eye I hope he gets.”

Now it was Y/N’s turn to smile.

“But–

“Oh my spirits.” Y/N’s smile faded instantly.

Suki huffed. “But, you two need to get along for the time it takes for us to escape. After that, feel free to beat on him as much as you want.” Suki wiggled her eyebrows. “I’ll even help hold him down.”

---

Y/N could tell there was something on Sokka’s mind once the four of them slid the cooler down the hill and into the water. At first the idea of knowing someone that deeply shocked her to her core; the last time that happened it didn’t exactly go well. The second she had that thought the fear melted away like an ice floe. Of course Y/N knew Sokka like that! They spent 24 hours a day, 7 days a week together for weeks on end as they traveled through the Fire Nation. He was her best friend! 

His gaze was downcast and he definitely wasn’t acting like the same person who 30 minutes beforehand had come to her cell and hugged her tightly, sliding his hand into her hair and promising with such conviction that he was going to get her out of there if it was the last thing he did. 

---

Y/N knelt beside Sokka as he pulled out his blue Water Tribe clothes from behind a rock. Y/N laid a hand on his back and felt him tense up. 

“What’s going on?” she murmured. She couldn’t help but think Zuko must have said something to him just as she and Suki had while they were separated. Was he trying to make Sokka think that their fight was her fault?

“We heard some guards talking–”

Anger flared in her chest as Y/N heard Zuko speak. “I didn’t ask you,” she sneered. The only thing that quashed some of her irritation was the beginnings of a bruise on his cheekbone. A black eye for sure, Y/N thought. 

“You know what, Y/N–” Zuko started. 

Y/N didn’t expect Sokka to stand up so suddenly, turning on the both of them. “Knock it off, both of you!” Sokka rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed in exasperation. “While I was getting Zuko out of the cooler, he and I overhead some guards passing by. They said that there would be more prisoners coming tomorrow. War prisoners.”

“Oh, Sokka, your dad…” Suki left the edge of the lake where she was holding the cooler from floating away and joined the three of them on the rocks. 

“It doesn’t matter.” Sokka shook his head with a look of resolution in his eyes. “Let’s go.”

“Are you sure?” Zuko asked. His voice breaking the thick silence falling over the group. 

“Of course I’m not sure.” Sokka admitted. “But we came here with the purpose to save Suki, and–and we were lucky to find Y/N here too. I feel like we’re risking too much now. If I had cut my losses at the invasion none of this would have happened in the first place. Maybe I need to do that now.”

“No, Sokka,” Y/N stepped in front of him, forcing him to look at her. “We stayed behind and that was our choice. Hakoda and I did not get captured because of you.” Y/N didn’t mention that it was because of her they were all in this mess.

“It’s better to call it quits before you lose.” Sokka’s voice was morose.

“Not in this case,” Zuko said. “You can’t quit because you’re afraid you might fail.”

“Even if I stay, what about you two?” Sokka grabbed at Y/N’s hands. “You and Suki should leave, you���ve been here long enough. And you too Zuko, you can get them out of here. I’ll stay behind and find my dad.”

“Not happening,” Y/N muttered. When Sokka opened his mouth to protest she quickly shook her head and added. “We all care about you Sokka. I’m staying.”  

“Me too,” Suki seconded. 

“Me three.” Zuko shared a look of understanding with Y/N. Whatever was happening between them could be figured out later. For now, they needed to work together. 

Sokka pulled Y/N in for a hug. “I hope we’re not making a huge mistake,” he murmured into Y/N’s shoulder. 

“I’m not too sure we have a choice anymore.” Suki pointed out. “The cooler is floating without us in it in the middle of the boiling lake.”

It had been a long time since Y/N had laughed that hard.

---

Y/N paced around her cell. She wished that patience came easier to her but everytime she sat down, she stood back up and began walking in circles again. Hakoda was here, they’d all seen him come off the gondola, but now that they were all separated again, it felt like she was in the dark. 

Sokka had told them he was going to talk to his dad and hopefully the two of them could come up with a new plan that could get everyone out of Boiling Rock. But that had been hours ago and Y/N was starting to get worried that she hadn’t heard anything from him. What if he had gotten caught sneaking into Hakoda’s cell? Different scenarios swirled through her brain and they all ended the same way. Sokka, locked up, wearing the same prisoner’s garb that she was. 

Y/N pressed her palm into her forehead. “Well at least all of us would be together here if that happens.” Y/N muttered to herself. 

“If what happens?” Y/N could see Sokka’s blue eyes peering through the slat in her cell door. 

“Oh thank Agni, you’re here.” Y/N rushed forward to embrace Sokka. 

“Of course I’m here. I told you I’d come back.” Sokka said. 

“Yeah, but I have this very rational fear that you’re going to get caught masquerading as a guard.” Y/N flicked Sokka’s visor with her index finger. 

“I won’t get caught,” Sokka grabbed her hand before she could pull too far away and linked their fingers. “I saw my dad. He told me what happened.”

“Oh?” A lot had happened the day of invasion. She just wasn’t sure what Hakoda had shared. 

“He said you saved the rest of the warriors by luring off the Fire Nation soldiers. Otherwise everyone would have been captured. I couldn’t be more grateful for what you did for them.”

Y/N’s cheeks grew hot. “You would have done the same.” 

“It was kind–” Sokka kissed one blushing cheek. “–and brave–” he kissed her other cheek, “–and very stupid.” He finished by kissing her lips.

Y/N groaned and snaked her arms around his neck. “Please tell me you have a way out of here. It feels weird kissing a guard.”

Sokka laughed. “I do. We’re leaving on the gondola; today. 

Y/N eyes widened. “I’m not even going to ask how we’re going to pull that off.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got everything planned out. I’ve already talked to Suki but…” Sokka paused.

“But what?”

“I can’t find Zuko,” Sokka admitted. 

“Well that’s not good.” Y/N might not have thought too highly of Zuko at the moment but Sokka seemed to be friendly with him and she knew that he wouldn’t leave without him. 

“I’ll keep looking.” Sokka said resolutely. “I’ve got to go. Find me when they let everyone into the yard.” 

“Be careful.” Y/N watched him step outside of her cell and slide the door shut, darkening the room once more. She was halfway to her cot when she heard Sokka’s voice, still outside her door, and it didn’t sound like he was talking to her. 

  Y/N tiptoed closer so she’d be able to hear what he was saying. 

“–they’ve really got to get their act together.” A voice that Y/N didn’t recognize said. 

Sokka chuckled nervously. “Uh haha, yeah. Well, I got this one, you just get the next one, okay?” Y/N could already picture him doing a set of cheesy finger-guns at whoever he was just talking to. 

Just then, the door to her cell slid open again and Sokka stood there with a worried look on his face. 

“What’s going on?” Y/N whispered, unsure whether the other guards were somewhere near. 

“The warden wants to see you.”

--- 

The only thought that was rushing through her head as Sokka marched her back to the interrogation rooms was that she needed to keep one foot in front of the other. Her knees shook the whole way there and Sokka could tell that she was a bundle of nerves. 

“This is why you couldn’t find Zuko,” Y/N said matter-a-factly. 

“What?” Sokka’s head turned to look at her.

Y/N looked straight ahead. “You couldn’t find Zuko because they already pulled him aside to talk to the warden. They probably found that cooler floating in the middle of the lake and assumed that him and I had something to do with it. They’re going to lock down the whole prison trying to figure out how we did it and who helped us and you’re gonna get caught and th–” 

“Y/N, relax,” Sokka squeezed her arm. “You’re hyperventilating.” He looked around the hallway, looking for some place to stop but it was too big of a risk; so they kept walking, albeit Sokka had slowed them down significantly. “No one is going to get caught. I don’t know why the warden wants to talk with you again, but it doesn’t matter. I said we’re getting out of here today and I meant it.” 

“I’m not worried about me,” Y/N said through gritted teeth. “I’m worried about you.”

“I know. But don’t, I can take care of myself.” 

“I know that.” Y/N hoped that what she said didn't offend him. Of course she knew that Sokka was a perfectly capable warrior who could protect himself. But it was just so much easier to be with him every step of the way to watch his back and make absolutely sure he was okay. It was the most frustrating thing about imprisonment. The control that she held so dearly was gone while she’d been here, and she was clawing at the walls trying to get it back. 

“I’ll find Zuko and I’ll come back to get you,” Sokka muttered under his breath as he left her with the pair of guards standing outside of the room. 

---

Y/N had prepared herself to expect anything when the door slid open, but seeing Azula standing there waiting for her was the last thing Y/N expected.

“Azula? What is going on?” Y/N jumped as the door slid shut behind her, leaving her alone, locked in a windowless cell with one of her enemies. 

“Why did he send you here?” Azula asked.

“What?” Y/N was extremely confused. 

“Your father. Why did he send you here?”

“I am a traitor to the Fire Nation, I thought you would be happy to see me imprisoned. It’s what you would have done.”

“Not here. Not with these people.”

“So what? Why do you care about me all of a sudden?” 

“Not all of a sudden,” Azula murmured. “I can overrule your dad’s orders. I’m bringing you back to the Fire Nation with me.”

“What? No!” Y/N felt like she couldn’t breathe, like she was being backed into a corner with no way out. 

“Why not? Why don’t you want to come back with me?!” Azula shouted.

“Why would you want me to?”

“Because you don’t belong here! You told me that you could change me–why can’t I do the same to you? Why can’t I bring you back to the Fire Nation and make you Y/N again, because that’s not who you are right now.”

“Oh yeah? Well who am I then?” Y/N taunted.

Azula completely ignored her question. Opting to cross her arms and roll her eyes. “You don’t have a choice. You’re coming back to the Fire Nation.”

“I won’t be your puppet anymore.”

“You think that.” Azula’s gold eyes bore into Y/N’s. “But at your lowest, I’ll be the only one that’s there, and you’ll come back.”

Y/N was seconds away from screaming. How dare Azula think that she would even stoop so low as to come crawling back into her good graces. Did she ever really know Y/N as deeply as she claimed? Because if she did she would know that it would never work on her.

Suddenly, a guard slammed the door open, breaking the reverie between the two of them. “Princess, there is a riot in the yard. We have to get you to safety.”

Y/N scoffed at the idea of someone Azula away from the fight to keep her safe. She would want to be right in the middle of it. But Y/N didn’t have time to think about it much more. She assumed that was her cue to leave. 

---

Y/N shoved past the guard in the doorway, grabbing the ring of keys on his belt as she ran past. She slammed the door shut and locked it. Y/N felt the door shake as both Azula and the guard threw fire, trying to break it down, but Y/N knew that they would have a rough go at that. It was a prison after all. Everywhere was meant to keep angry firebenders locked in. 

She took off in a dead sprint backtracking the way that she and Sokka came. She turned the corner and ran smack into someone. Y/N fell hard to the ground but immediately rolled to her feet, in a fighting stance. 

A hand gripped the front of her shirt, his other hand poised over her face. “Oh, it’s you.”

Y/N pushed Zuko away. “Get off,” she growled. 

Zuko rolled his eyes, “Come on, we have to go.” his voice was gruff.

Zuko and Y/N pushed their way through the rioters to get to where they had spotted Sokka through the crowd. 

“How’d you get out, Y/N? I was just about to come and get you.” Sokka asked, shocked. 

“I’ll tell you later, right now we need to get out of here. Fast!” Y/N looked around her and counted heads; they were all there, including Hakoda and Suki. Y/N didn’t know how long the cell could keep Azula contained. If she was as mad as Y/N thought she was, it wouldn’t be nearly long enough. 

“We just need to grab the warden and get to the gondolas.” Sokka promised.

“How are we going to do that?” Zuko asked. 

“I haven’t figured that part out yet,” Sokka cringed. 

While Zuko and Sokka argued over the plan to escape not being fully developed, Suki tugged on Y/N’s arm. She pointed up to the main tower; guards rushed across the balconies, but one person didn’t move, just stood watching over the mayhem happening in the yard. 

“There he is,” Suki muttered. 

“Let’s get him.” Y/N grinned.

---

Suki and Y/N ran, dodging and weaving between the prisoners and guards fighting. They scaled the tower using the balcony railings as handholds and footholds together, until they landed on the same level the warden was on. 

Suki took on the first guard they encountered, ducking under his fire punch and tripping him. Y/N slid under another’s legs, and grabbed the only weapon the guards carried, a heavy baton meant to scare the prisoners into submission. She smashed it into his face as she rolled to a stand. 

The warden made a run for it, but Y/N caught up to him, holding the baton against his neck. “I didn’t take you for a coward.”

Suki came around the front of him and smiled at Y/N who was hovering over the man’s shoulder. “Of course he is, Y/N. You should see his face, he looks like you’ve got a sword held to his throat.”

“I wish it was a sword,” Y/N grumbled. 

Suki quickly tied his hands and gagged his mouth. Y/N pushed him to the ground and the two girls stood over him. A satisfied expression crossed Suki’s face. “Sorry warden, you’re our prisoner now.”

---

Halfway to the gondola, more guards showed up to stop them. Everyone ducked as Zuko blocked the guards firebending. “Stop! Back up! We have the warden!” 

Each and every one of the guards looked to one another to figure out how they were going to handle this type of situation. Slowly, as a collective, they backed away, allowing five of them to pass along with the warden who seemed to be screaming obscenities behind his gag. He began to struggle against his bindings and Hakoda, who was leading him. 

Y/N hefted her baton and pushed the warden’s cheek. “We don’t have to let you walk. One swing and you’ll be out like a light.” That seemed to quiet him down.

Zuko started the gondola and then repeatedly kicked at the lever, breaking it in half so the guards had no way of stopping them once they started. He jumped from the platform and landed on the edge of the gondola; Sokka pulled him inside one of the windows. 

It was slow moving but Y/N could feel the gondola climbing the cable, dragging them out of the Boiling Rock. It was surprisingly silent, like none of them could really believe it was happening, and so easily at that. Everyone shared a cautious look. 

“Is that it?” Suki asked warily. “Are we really on our way?”

“Uh, who’s that?” Hakoda asked, pointing over Y/N’s shoulder back to the platform.

Y/N turned around and stuck her head out the window. When she caught sight of who Hakoda had seen, her whole body tensed up. “That would be what I was going to tell you about.”

“That’s a problem,” Zuko said, his head peeking out the window next to Y/N’s. “It’s Azula and Ty Lee.” 

Suki joined Y/N at the window. “I’ve been waiting for this rematch.”

“Me too,” Zuko said. 

Y/N couldn’t say she agreed; in fact she definitely disagreed. It felt her story was never-ending at this point. She would feel much better if she never had to see Azula again. 

Azula smirked and Y/N could feel her eyes on her face. By the time that Y/N had climbed to the top of the gondola with the others, both girls had made it there. Ty Lee gunned for Suki and Y/N at one end of the gondola, while the boys took care of Azula at the other end. 

Y/N immediately noticed something different about Ty Lee; her brow was furrowed at Y/N and her eyes narrowed. She was angry. 

Y/N was so shook to her core at never seeing Ty Lee angry–ever–that she was almost chi-blocked in her left arm. Luckily, Suki wasn’t phased in the slightest and stepped in to block. Y/N quickly ducked out of the way to get her bearings.

“Why did you leave?” Ty Lee shouted over the wind whipping in their ears. 

“What are you talking about?” Y/N blocked a hit from Ty Lee and kicked out, trying to trip the girl. She was much too agile and backflipped over Y/N’s leg like it was nothing. 

“No explanation, not a word to me about anything!” Ty Lee took a moment to throw a savage punch at Y/N’s head. “What happened?”

Y/N ducked to the left, grabbed her arm and bent it behind Ty Lee’s back. “She asked me to kill someone!”

Ty Lee was like an eel-snake and slipped right out Y/N’s hands, chi-blocking her right arm along the way. Y/N’s arm went numb, pins and needles traveled down from her shoulder all the way to her wrist. Ty Lee chuffed at Y/N’s words and held up her hands, ready to jump right back into the fight. Suki squared up alongside Y/N, ready to finish things. But Y/N was so tired of fighting her friends. She stepped forward, but made no move to attack the other girl.

“I found a better way!” Y/N held her limp arm to her chest and she noticed a waver in Ty Lee’s normally steady hands. “I saw my chance at a life where I wasn’t fighting every second of every day!” She shouted. “Now, are you mad at me for leaving, or are you mad at yourself for not?”

A look of realization passed across Ty Lee’s face, just as she heard Suki shout. “Guys! I think they’re going to cut the line!”

Y/N’s eyes snapped from Ty Lee’s to the platform where she could see guards working on cutting the cable holding the gondola up. 

“Then it’s time to leave,” Azula smirked and used her firebending to blast herself up on top of an incoming gondola. When Y/N looked back, Ty Lee was already jumping to the other gondola sparing a concerned look in Y/N’s direction.

---

Y/N crawled back into the gondola through the window, landing next to Suki on the floor. Her arm was just regaining part of its feeling as she made her way to the front of the gondola with the boys to watch the guards cut only thing still holding them in the sky. 

“I hope this thing floats,” Hakoda said absently. 

“Yeah, if we don’t die from the impact of it hitting the water,” Y/N couldn’t help but add. 

“Wait, look!” Zuko exclaimed. He pointed out a dark figure flinging knives at the guards cutting the cable. 

Mai! Y/N quickly leaned out the window to the other gondola, where Azula and Ty Lee were standing, hoping to gauge a reaction from them. She shared a worried look with Zuko. They both knew what it meant to cross Azula when it came to something she wanted. 

---

Just then, the gondola shuddered to a stop on the far rim of the volcano and they all hopped out. 

“If Azula’s here she must have brought an airship,” Zuko said. He walked up a large hill by the sea, looking for it, but Y/N was still stuck staring across the boiling lake. 

Sokka grabbed her hand. “Come on, we have to go. Azula could be right on our tail.” He began tugging her in the direction the rest of the group had run and she let herself be pulled along because Y/N had seen all she needed to see. 

“I don’t think she is,” Y/N said to Sokka moments later, as they boarded the airship. 

“You don’t think what?” Sokka asked, confused as to what Y/N was talking about. 

Y/N slid down the wall of the airship, all the adrenaline leaving her body at once. “I don’t think Azula’s going to be after us right away.”

Sokka sat beside her and quirked an eyebrow up. “Why not?”

“Because I’m pretty sure while I was still up there I saw Ty Lee chi-block her.”

Sokka’s eyes widened, recognizing how big of a deal that really was. 

Y/N’s emotions crashed down on her like a hefty wave. There was so much to process, so much to mull over. She simultaneously wished she could take a hot bath and drink a hot cup of tea, hell, she would even settle for a bath in the river if nothing at the moment changed. But one thought dominated all the rest. Home. She dropped her head into her hands and stared at the floor between her legs. 

“Spirits, you don’t know how happy I am to see you,” Y/N murmured.

“You’ve been with me for the past two days,” Sokka replied, his voice muffled into her hair. 

Y/N snorted. “That’s not what I mean.”

“I know what you mean.” Suddenly, like it was the last thing he would ever do, Sokka tipped her head up and pulled her in for a bruising kiss. 

It felt like home.

---

a/n: most of suki and Y/N’s time together at boiling rock isn’t mentioned to keep the wc down, but we can guess that they became fast friends while there. And yes, I’m really ramping up the sappiness in Y/N and Sokka’s relationship in preparation for a surprise coming in the near future!

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[notmrskennedy]

Professor, pt2

A/N - here’s part two to my little prequels - it’s the last one I’ve got written, but just know that they definitely fall in love later in my head. It’s just that the ‘in love’ part turned into Friendliness so there’s that. Thanks for sticking around bc y’all make my days

Summary - A certain professor makes another unexpected appearance and friend? 

W/C - 2.6k 

Warnings - there’s a brief stint of depression and a bit of swearing i’m sure (but what’s new)

----

Nearly 50 hours of no sleep later and Spencer Reid is sure he’s hallucinating. He knows that the hallucinations come later, that it takes more like seven or eight days to get that bad. But he’s tired and hadn’t slept on the plane and there’s no amount of coffee that’ll convince him he’s awake enough to think the scene in front of him is real. 

Because there you are, arguing with an FBI agent. While in handcuffs. He notes the darker hair and the new style and the impossible amount of dirt you’re covered in. What a weird thing to hallucinate after a bone chilling case. He hasn’t seen you in three years—by all accounts, he should’ve forgotten your face already. 

“I heard she got caught shipping body parts,” Emily says, appearing next to Spencer. She’s more put together, having passed out for the four hour flight. Her hair’s tied up and she’s got airplane coffee in her hands. He wonders if this is any more real before he hears you shouting from him. 

“Thank God,” you call, trying to wiggle out of the man’s hold, “Dr. Reid! Tell them I’m not crazy.”

He hesitantly leans over to Emily. “This is real, right?”

“Yep.”

“I’m not going to sleep tonight, am I?”

“Nope.”

“See you on Monday, Emily.”

“See you then, Reid.”

And he’s trudging forward, waving at the other agent while stifling a yawn. He forces his eyes open and checks his watch. 2:37 AM. Is he going to catch the Metro? Or is he sleeping on Hotch’s couch again? 

The pleading in your eyes says Hotch’s couch and he doesn’t argue.

“Hey, Kazinsky,” he yawns, stopping a full two feet from you and your inhumanly large captor. “What’s the—what’s the charge?”

Kazinsky shakes his head, not daring to let you any slack. You’re bouncing on your toes, trying to contain yourself. He gets it. It’s not everyday you get arrested. He hopes. But ever forgetful of the whole being arrested bit, you keep jerking to move the hair out of your face. Kazinsky takes it as trying to escape and jerks back harder. 

“We picked this one up for transporting illegal…stuff, Doc,” Kazinsky mutters with half a shiver. “Thought I signed up for white collar, mail fraud type stuff. Not unpacking human remains type stuff.” 

Spencer pinches the bridge of his nose. Scrubs his hands over his face. Takes one more long look at you, obviously losing your mind. He knows a lot can change over three years, but you never seemed the ‘illegally transporting dead people’ type. Until he remembers your fun fact from that lecture all those years ago. 

“What happened?” he sighs.

All too tired for this bullshit, he wishes he could force the story out faster, but your face just keeps contorting with the story you’re so obviously trying to spin for both of them. You try to pull out of Kazinsky’s gorilla grip again, and Spencer notices the way Kazinsky winces every time you pull. Something wrong with his wrist?

“Dr. Reid,” you finally begin, “I was in Guatemala, studying these mummies we found in a cave. One of the bodies just needed further examining and so I was just shipping it back because it’s not like I can stuff a two thousand year old body in my carryon.”

All Spencer can do is raise half an exhausted eyebrow that prompts you further, red tinting your cheeks. 

“Look, I’ve been trying to tell Mr. Man Hands over here that I’ve got the paperwork in my bag, but after our little disagreement, I’ve been arrested.”

“Disagreement?” Kazinsky snorts. “You tried to dislocate my wrist!”

“Well, I can’t help it if you don’t announce yourself before grabbing me.”

Whatever desperation and pleading you’ve had, you’ve thrown out the window to stare down Kazinsky. Spencer has a new appreciation for the fact that he’d been wrong all those years ago. You aren’t fragile. You’re as strong as a femur bone with all of the—probably justified—anger of a bull towards a matador. 

But you turn back to Spencer and your gaze softens. Melts into the young professor he met all those years ago. He’s gotten over his crush—he’s definitely in love with Maeve—but you’re objectively beautiful. Despite the self-cut, terribly choppy bangs, or the light dusting of brown dirt that you’ve covered in. You’re pleading for his help, he knows it, but he just wants to go home. 

He’s reminded he’s better than walking away and ends up giving Kazinsky a tired sigh. “I’ll take her off your hands for you, Kazinsky.”

He wonders vaguely what Maeve will think of this when he calls her in 24 hours. He wonders if she’ll appreciate the gesture he’s made for an old acquaintance. No matter what though, he knows she’ll gasp and giggle and say something like ‘oh those anthropologists! Such a funny sort. At least it’s a better science than geology!’ and they’ll laugh together like old lovers. 

Kazinsky drops you in Spencer’s lap and runs. Human remains could be the BAU’s problem for all he cared. He liked mail fraud. 

Once Kazinsky’s out of sight, Spencer pulls the handcuff keys from his pockets and pulls the cuffs off of you. You breathe out a thankful sigh, trying to rub the future bruises away. You turn back to face him, tucking your hair back behind your ear, studying him through your lashes. He can’t be bothered to notice anything much more about you. He’s dead on his feet. 

The hand you place on his elbow jolts him away. Your eyebrows scrunch and he swallows at the concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I’m just—we’ve been working an abduction case. 48 hours non-stop—“

He yawns again and you can’t help but mirror. “Did you know that chimpanzees and dogs are also empathetic yawners?” 

He smirks. “I did know that. Seriously though y/n, what’s up with the body?”

“I promise it isn’t illegal,” you rush out, just to receive a raised eyebrow. “The Institute I’m working for made some kind of deal with the Guatemalan government that I’m not really privy to, but I’m the only one qualified to handle the remains. Plus, I’ve got a reputation for being found with body parts so its—it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

He sighs again. He wants to tell you it sounds worse. That it sounds like you’re stealing on behalf of the Institute. That they’re doing what museums always do—pilfer and loot. But you sigh and hang your head and don’t exhibit one sign that you’re trying to trick him. Sure, you might’ve lied a bit about manhandling Kazinsky, but you sure as hell seem like a doctor just trying to do her job. 

“Look, call my boss. He’s waiting for me anyway. I’m sure the paperwork just got lost or customs is just as stupid as I think they are.”

Spencer nods. He pulls his phone out and punches in the number you rattle off. In ten seconds he’s speaking with Dr. Russel Bailey, head of the anthropology department at the Institute. There’s a quick relay of ‘yes, she’s authorised to have the body’ and ‘no, please don’t arrest her’ and ‘we’ll sort this out in the morning’. 

And once he’s hung up, you’ve already got your car keys out. “Do you need a ride home or anything?” you ask and quickly tack on, “I’m just trying to say thank you. Promise I’m not creepy.”

Spencer laughs and nods and drags his feet after you. He does need a ride home because he knows he’ll fall asleep on the metro. You talk incessantly about your trip to Guatemala on the walk down to your car, and he knows he should be listening. But he can’t. He’s too busy moving one foot in front of the other. 

And by the time you’ve punched his address into the GPS, he’s fast asleep, softly snoring. 

#

Maeve was dead. Maeve was dead. Maeve was dead. 

Nothing else really matters now, Spencer thinks on repeat. She was the only good thing I had and now she’s gone. Maybe I don’t even matter. 

There’s brief moments between this line of thinking where he can listen to the three dozen voicemails he gets left everyday. Telling him that they’re there for him. Telling him it’ll be okay. Telling him it was okay to grieve. 

Was it grieving if he just wants to melt into nothingness? To die without actually killing himself?

It’s during one of these brief moments that he gets the voicemail he’s accidentally been craving. He doesn’t want to want it. He doesn’t want to want anything. He wants to melt and starve and wither until no one thinks about him ever again. Because she’s not here and he can’t for the life of him figure out why he wants you. 

You’ve been gone. Researching your way through the Sacred Valley in Peru, making nice with the locals and scavenging bones like an angelic vulture. You’ve been there for the last month and can’t possibly know about Maeve’s death—it takes him another hour to get back to thinking about you. It’s still September, he thinks, and you’re supposed to come back around now. At the end of the month, he’s supposed to pick you up from the airport. 

Because after saving you from an arrest, you’ve been exchanging noncommittal letters and phone calls. He’s got a thin stack of photos that you’ve sent from your trip. But you aren’t Maeve. You never were. You never will be. 

He doesn’t know why he wants you to call him, but he does. 

Maybe it’s because you’re new, you aren’t tarnished by the history of Spencer Reid. Maybe it’s because you’re the only one who doesn’t treat him like he’s labelled: fragile, handle with care!

He listens and your voicemail is a sort of sing song. “Hola Spencer! I’m calling from some Peruvian payphone. I should be in the states in a little over 24 hours. I’ll call when I land. Hasta mañana.” 

 The next voicemail comes with: “Finally got back to the apartment. I didn’t think I’d miss the sound of guinea pigs running around. Weird. Anyway, call me when you can.”

And the third: “Spencer, seriously, why aren’t you picking up? I’m not going to have to break in, am I? Call me back.”

Culminating with: “Reid, I swear to fucking god. If I find you dead in that goddamn apartment, I’ll beat your body so bad you won’t make it the fucking afterlife.”

There’s a knock. One he won’t answer. One he doesn’t want to answer. He doesn’t want the pity or the advice or the dejectedness. He wants to float down a river and drown. 

The knock becomes a little more insistent. And now there’s voices attached. He can make out JJ’s voice, “He’s—he’s going to be okay. He’ll come back out when he’s ready.” Following is who he thinks is Penelope, though if it is, she’s far too quiet. One set of feet retreat. He can see the shadow from a pair of shoes and he wonders why Penelope is staying so long. Maybe she’s brought another basket. 

There’s one more knock—probably to ensure he’s not coming to the door—before a jiggle to the knob. And swearing. And jostling. And squirming. And pop. There’s a distinct swinging open of the door and a pair of boots tapping over his hardwood. 

Maybe this is how he dies. Miserable. Covered in snot and tears. Slippers half on. Depressed on the couch. 

“God, you idiot,” a voice breathes, pausing to take in the disarray. He vaguely remembers redecorating—throwing everything everywhere. The feet become more impatient and frantic and heavier. His doors all open and close and he can’t bother to correct the burglar. He’s right here, waiting, patiently waiting, for this intruder to kill him. 

A fantastic way to die. He wonders if you’ll want to look at his bones. You’ve mentioned wanting to. 

“Sound off, Reid,” you command. He knows its you. No one else could replicate that tremble in your lips, the break rolling off your tongue. 

“Y/n,” he croaks and he wonders how long ago was the last time he spoke. 

Light streams in as you flick open the curtains, bites into his skin with a hiss. You take in his disheveled state with no apprehension. Like you’ve expected this. Like you have no pity to give him. Maybe this is why he wanted you to call. 

“You broke in,” he mumbles and you shake your head. 

“I wouldn’t have to,” you begin to yell, just to lower your voice and grit your teeth, “if you would’ve fucking answered the door.” 

You always say there’s a time and place for everything. There’s nothing to top the word ‘fuck’ and he knows that you’re beyond angry. Beyond concerned. Beyond terrified for him. 

“What happened, Spencer?” you whisper, moving to sit down on the floor in front of him. You’re close enough he can smell your perfume, see the pleading look in your eyes. There’s no pity. If he could find the words, he couldn’t thank you enough. 

He could reach out and hold your hand, but that seems too far. Too much. So he swallows down the tears and whispers back, “Maeve died, y/n. She died because I let her.”

“Stop it,” you order. You’ve got a hard set in your eyes, the kind that he last saw when you stared down Kazinsky. “Stop that right now. You can’t stop the world from spinning, Spencer. You can’t stop the sun from coming up. You can’t stop what you don’t know to. I might not know all the details, but I know you. You’re a diligent man and I wouldn’t expect you to do anything less than everything for the woman you love.”

You place a delicate hand on the couch next to his and you sum everything up very gracefully. “Hindsight is a bitch, don’t let it make you hers.”

He can’t stop the twitch of a smile. Can’t stop the crack of happiness that bleeds out because you’ve decided to be so ridiculously you. No one’s ever called him diligent before and seems more fitting than fragile.

“She’s still dead,” he settles on and makes the bold move to slide his fingers under yours. It feels like such a betrayal to Maeve—is he supposed to touch another woman when he couldn’t even touch the love of his life?

You just squeeze his fingers, warm and present and decidedly alive. “Yeah. She is. You’re welcome to wallow for as long as you want, but you need to eat. We’ll see if I can remember how to cook with modern appliances.”

Your smile is contagious enough that a fleeting smile reaches his eyes. You pat his hand and stand. “I’m going to the store, and taking a key this time. I promise I’ll be back. I’m stickier than a public indecency charge.”

You chuckle for the both of them and carefully make your way out of the apartment. He listens as you take a key and tries his best to psych himself into a fit of hunger. It isn’t until you’re singing in Spanish, something sizzling on the stove, that he realises that the pain in his gut is the hunger, and not just misery. That he should probably get up for at least a minute. Just to satisfy the curiosity of what that smell is. 

Maeve would’ve liked you, he decides. Maeve would’ve really liked you. 

And it’s the first peaceful thought he’s had in weeks. 

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #reid x reader #reid x y/n #spencer reid x y/n #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[spookymultimedia]

Dance With Somebody

A "first" kiss [I know hush/lh ] bobutter fanfic

CW: brief reference to a boner at the end

I was very very inspired by Fearless by Taylor Swift

       It was either midnight or 1 am. I can't remember. It was definitely late. Mr.Peanutbutter and I were leaving this party. It was something for the movie premiere of Birthday Dad:The Movie. After 12 whole seasons they have to milk it to the last drop and go out with a bang. Peanutbutter isn't even in the movie because of him being retired and all. Some other younger lab is playing as Birthday Dad. But PB just couldn't pass up acting in a cameo shot that lasted only 15 seconds. I told him, 'Peanutbutter, you're retired. You deserve a break now. Just tell them no!'. But he just couldn't say no. He can't help it. He's a sentimental old fool.

He practically begged me to be his plus one to the party. Its not a date. I wasn't his date or anything. We went as friends. Just friends. He wanted me to go Like, ugghh a party with food and pretty lights and colors and pop music and food and probably a chocolate fountain. Did I mention the free food? I mean, if I must. It's not like I was the one who begged the director to let me in because, hello! I was a in a famous cameo in a shot during a very important episode of Birthday Dad. It's not like I'm a big deal or anything. Like I said Peanutbutter insisted. It's not like it was my idea or anything because it definitely was not. 

        It was a pretty warm night. Peanutbutter had tied his blue-ish black suit around his waist and rolled up his sleeves up to his elbows. I wondered if he was actually hot or if he was just trying to show off his muscles because it was certainly working. I noticed them. Everyone did. At least I think they did. I know I noticed. We were in a weird emotion that was between giddy and exhausted. I guess us old farts were starting to get too old to stay up so late. 

       He was laughing about something I said. It was a really good joke. I'd explain it to you but you wouldn't get it. You just had to be there. He grabbed my arm as we walked towards our car while he laughed. His head was kinda resting on my arm. Like I said it was warm out but it was cool too. It was wet? Warmish and wet. I know I made that sound totally gross but trust me it was nice night time weather. Usually I would be annoyed him touching me like that but I had gotten used to it and it was nice warmth against the warmcoldwet weather. I didn't care. Over the past few months I had gotten accustomed to his hand on the shoulder, hand on the arm the, resting on my shoulder, the 'ah let me just squeeze by you', and the 'oo you have a little something on your face'- If you think he's doting on me. He's not. It's a completely different thing. Honestly. 

     Where was I? Oh right. So we get into the car and he starts driving us home. He's a very careful driver. Even when he's honking the horn and swearing at after party traffic there's a gentleness to his movement. I mean, his breaks are a tad choppy but thats just traffic for ya. I mean the way he holds the wheel. He has a very soft grip. Is this a normal thing to focus on? I don't know. 

       That drive home I just couldn't stop looking at him. He just looked so. . .nice? I was so wrong about Peanutbutter for so long. He's a really fun guy once you get to know him. He feels so genuine. So passionate. There was something sugary sweet about the way he spoke. Usually it would have irritated me and made me want to barf but this time my stomach felt a different kind of weird. I wasn't even drunk. It was a family friendly kind of event. Besides I'm sober, I don't drink. So. . .I wasn't sure what I was feeling or what I was thinking. I'm getting way ahead of myself. 

       We eventually get on the highway. He's got the windows down and I've got the cheesy old 80s music station that he finds so tacky playing on the radio. Some song about Heaven on Earth. The streetlights are shining on his fur and at a red light I'm thinking why is this guy suddenly so attractive now. The way he ran his hand through his fur was just so graceful. Like I'm not really that kind of guy but at that moment I'm thinking. Maybe I'm that type of guy. 

     By the time we get home- I mean to his house, it's raining. Like it is pouring. Then as he parks I turn up the radio a little bit and look at him. It's Dance by Whitney Houston. "I love this song! Dance with me?" I asked. I feltl my eyes grow wide. He laughed at me and shooknhis head in a way that read as: are you serious?? "What?" He said. 

       "Dance with me. In the rain. Right now." I get out of the car and run over to his side. I open the door and he's laughing even more. "Really?!" 

      "Cmon!" I hold out my hand. It only took him a second to stand up, shut the door and take my hand. I practically pulled him out. We kinda dance around in a circle. It was probably a super awkward looking dance but I didn't care. I started to sing while holding his hands, "Oohh, I wanna dance with somebody. I wanna feel the heat with somebody." Suddenly we slipped and slid into the wet grass. I sorta landed beside him but also sorta on top of him. He was on his back giggling. "Are you okay?" I asked him. He nodded, laughing still, he was hugged onto me while my arms were propped over him. His coat was all shiny and kinda muddy from the dirt. Fur stuck up in weird places on his neck. His blueish greenish eyes met mine, muzzles only an inch apart. Then I did it. I don't know what I was thinking. I leaned I and kissed him. It wasn't a huge kiss, it was just a quick smack on the lips. But it was definitely a kiss. There may have been some tongue, it's a blur. 

        He looked up at me wide eyed. It wasn't an upset kind of look he was. . .just surprised. Gobsmacked. His jaw just hung there. When I realized what I just did I sat up quickly,"Oh my god I'm so sorry. I- God I'm such a-"

He cut me off, "No no its- its fine. I mean it's- I don't mind. I-." He was tripping on his words too. There was an awkward pause between us while an advertisement for Birthday Dad: The Movie played on the radio. The rain was still pouring down on us. He shivered and stood up, "We should get out of the rain and- yeah." He cleared his throat. "Yeah, yeah." I said and stood up as well. I lingered in the kitchen as he went up to his room to change. 

        There was a big one in my pants. What was wrong with me? Wait. No. No, that sounded wrong. There's nothing wrong with me liking men or anything. That's cool. I'm cool with it. But god did it really have to be him ??? Out of all the men it could've been, did it have to be him? Do I have feelings for him? I donno everything just happened so fast and we had been up so late and we were so giddy. But. . .I still feel the same? Everything is different now. I can't explain it. 

#bobutter fic #bobutter #bojack horseman fanfic #bojack horseman fanart #bojack horseman #mr. peanutbutter #Spotify