#see accidentally writing mini-fics when I get asks is why it takes me so fucking long to reply to each one lmao

[cameliawrites]

For the fic asks, people probably beat me to them but: 🤡✨🦅 and just for funsies... 🧠 for Jesper since I'd love to know some of your thoughts on him

Cat, my beloved! Have some answers (with a bonus Kaz/Jesper friendship ficlet at the end, because I love these fools)!

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

Maybe this errs on the sweeter side of funny, but there’s one tiny exchange in “what a mother wants” that I’m really fond of.

The backstory is that a few summers ago, I babysat quite frequently for some dear friends of mine. Their kids have an impressive collection of stuffed toys, and of course, each and every one of them has to have a name—and to my surprise and amusement, these little fuzzy pandas and sloths and such are often named after fully-grown, real-life adults in their lives. Like, first AND last name and all. 😂

SO. All that to say, I’m very very fond of this exchange between Kaz and his daughter, which I not-so-slyly slipped into a parenthetical aside near the end of the fic:

Say thank you to Aaji, Kaz had instructed her, and when Lieze complied, he’d asked her, What will you name it? Lieze had contemplated for a moment, face taking on an expression reminiscent of her father. Jesper Fahey, she’d finally declared decisively, and Kaz had groaned.

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it.

Oh goodness! Okay. Um…

Well, I’ve always been fond of this line near the very end of “someone to watch over me:”

When she entered her room, she noticed that the four showy flower arrangements had been removed. Instead, atop her pillow sat a small bouquet of geraniums, clearly hand-picked, and tied with a single red ribbon.

Inej opened the small note attached to the ribbon, already grinning widely, her heart fluttering like petals tossed to the wind.

I drew the imagery of “petals tossed to the wind” from that (iconic) scene where wild geranium petals rain over her when Kaz rescues her at the Goedmedbridge in Crooked Kingdom. The simile felt quite apropos for a fic scene where Kaz is leaving a little geranium bouquet for her. 🥰

🦅Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

👖👖👖My fics usually come together in patches—I’ll have a scene here, a scene there, a scrap of dialogue, a concept of a given’s scene choreography… but then all the connective tissue between those points isn’t determined until I’m actually writing. This is part of why I mostly write one shots; I think outlining a multi-chapter fic would be a nightmare for me. 😅 (And also, the time constraints of law school make it hard for me to plan ahead that much.)

I really enjoy the freedom I have in this creative process. For me, writing fic is a total escape from the strictures of academic/professional writing, and I worry that holding myself to a strict outline would suck a bit of the joy out of it. But I know that for other people, it’s just a helpful organizational tool! I spend more time on the back end of fic writing (editing and revising and figuring out how to piece existing scenes together) than on the front end (planning and outlining). Everyone’s process is so different!

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them. - Jesper

(why did this turn into a mini-fic? why do I do this? ….here, have a thing:)

Jesper is the first person to whom Kaz confesses that he loves Inej.

The moon is high and the bottle of whiskey is running dangerously low. The two of them are sprawled out on the grass of the Van Eck garden looking at the night sky, because it was suddenly very important for a very drunk Jesper to point out all the constellations Colm Fahey taught him, and to pass along the stories Colm had learned growing up on the Wandering Isle.

The first mistake Kaz makes is disputing Jesper’s account: “No, you’ve got it all wrong,” he slurs, “My Da told me and Jordie this other story about those three stars on the right…”

And because Jesper knows a bit about Jordie by now, he becomes solemn and quiet; sobered, even in his utter drunkenness, as Kaz tells the story.

“I’m sorry you lost him,” Jesper finally whispers, and for a long moment, the trickle of the water in the nearby canal is the only sound between them.

Kaz grumbles something unintelligible at first, refusing to meet Jesper’s gaze. “It’s been ten years,” he finally articulates, and Jesper can see him clenching the grass at his sides with his pale, ungloved hands. “It shouldn’t still hurt. If I were stronger…if I were stronger, it wouldn’t still hurt. I got even with Pekka Rollins. I got my revenge. What’s left?”

“What’s left?” Jesper retorts a bit too loudly, pushing himself up to sit on his elbows, then immediately collapsing back to the ground at the wave of dizziness that follows. “What’s left is that you loved him, Kaz. Like I loved my Ma—like any of us still love anyone we lost. The love doesn’t just…fade away, just because they’re gone,” Jesper spits out, gesturing wildly with his hands. “And you’re an even bigger podge than I thought if you think that makes you weak,” he finishes resolutely, waggling one drunken finger near Kaz’s face.

Kaz rolls his eyes at the insult (and the finger), but seems to let the words sink in; the expression on his face tells Jesper how intensely he’s turning them over in his mind.

“Ugh,” Jesper groans, “what are you scheming about right now?”

“I love Inej,” Kaz starts simply—and it is a simple statement; a simple truth; one that neither Kaz nor Jesper is really surprised by, even if Jesper is a smidge surprised Kaz is actually willing to admit it out loud. “But I haven’t told her. Just in case…” Kaz’s mouth clamps shut, then opens once more, as though he cannot resist the drunken spill of words from his mouth at this moment. “I don’t want to be left alone with that kind of hurt ever again.”

And the pain, the fear, that washes over Kaz’s face for an uncontrolled instant—too long to believe Kaz doesn’t feel anything, even if he tried to deny it—has Jesper sliding his hands over the pearl-handled revolvers at his hips, trying to resist the urge to reach out and do something stupid, like hug his best friend.

“You wouldn’t be left alone,” Jesper promises fiercely. “Not this time. Not ever again. I haven’t always made myself trustworthy, but tell me you trust me about that much?” he pleads.

Kaz nods slowly, his throat bobbing as his gaze remains fixed determinedly on the sky.

“Good,” Jesper breathes. “That’s—that’s good.”

When their voices fade to silence once more, something like relief rises in the quiet that they’ve left behind.

“Kaz?” Jesper can’t help but ask a few minutes later.

“Hmmph.” The hangovers are going to hurt tomorrow.

“You’ve gotta make me your best man, okay?”

Kaz shoots up in a panic. Jesper maintains his position on the ground, arms tucked lackadaisically beneath his head. “We’re not getting married, Jesper.”

“Of course you aren’t,” he laughs airily. “I mean, you’d be a real asshole if you didn’t tell her you loved her before you proposed.”

“Fuck you, Jes.”

“Love you too, Kaz.”

#i just love the friendship between kaz & jesper ok #see accidentally writing mini-fics when I get asks is why it takes me so fucking long to reply to each one lmao #camelia answers #lia talks #camelia writes

[akumaalert]

not a request just sharing bc i couldn't stop thinking of just "what if lucky called heis good boy" like how he calls her good girl sometimes but like.. i'm pretty sure he would break

This was supposed to be a mini-fic....but...uh....it'll likely be the first chapter of "Divergence" instead LMAO But hope you enjoy!

Good Boy

Karl Heisenberg x Reader, Explicit

CW: Masturbation, Accidental Voyeurism, Voyeurism, Happy Ending, Virgin!Karl Heisenberg

An AU happening during chapter 19 of "Heavy Metal Lover" but can be read without reading the main story.

"Unfh..."

That had been the first noise from Lucky besides the scratch of a pencil against paper that he had heard in about an hour.

Stuck in his office with her as he searched for a misplaced - not lost, just misplaced! - core schematic, Heisenberg tried to ignore the nagging thought of how domestic the space had become. Lucky never moved his things - something he was infinitely grateful for. He could recall too well his ever boiling frustration at having his room "cleaned" when living in the castle. The maids were well-meaning, but always adjusting. The room he had held would have felt more his own had he been able to move his own furniture around without the chambermaids fawning over him.

"No, no, young Lord Heisenberg! This is all wrong...off you go...go play...we will fix this mess."

Now on his own and in his element of chaos, he felt comforted, even if secretly so, that Lucky never seemed to complain.

Comforted...but cautious.

The day at the stronghold seemed stamped into his memory...right in the front for all to see. It remained a wonder Lucky didn't see it on his face.

The knowledge.

The horrible, horrible knowledge.

Love.

Staring at an old newspaper clip-out that he had saved with a picture of a modern car on its faded pages, he absently pushed the glasses back up his nose.

It tired him - the constant need to flip back and forth between acknowledging his feelings and thrusting them as far down as he could manage. Drowning them out with that beautiful sound of cinching machinery. Allowing them to seep into him with every laugh from her lips.

Heisenberg was starting to fall in love with the woman. The woman he had failed to kill - the lucky one to survive his maze. The woman his mother expected him to impregnate in order for Miranda's mad vessel to be born and to be killed all in the name of misery.

Misery otherwise known as Eva.

Slowly but certainly, Lucky was driving him insane. Reminding him of things he could never, ever have. Teasing him over and over for days on end.

Heisenberg remembered all too well his reason for entering the office. He had nearly sliced his own arm clean off his shoulder when he lost himself to his situation. To the possibility that, despite his body being so ill-suited for the task, Lucky could have his child. Would want his child. His thoughts, as they so often did, snapped back to the need for freedom - for the need for the arms to come loose from his latest corpse to transform them into one of his many soldiers.

But the more he thought of freedom, the more she sat in the background of his mind.

The more she sat there, the more his tired musings began to stitch together.

The more freedom and Lucky - the two dreams of his world - became intertwined.

He had been thinking of her - of Lucky - beside him the day that he won freedom from the village.

Won freedom...and her.

"You did it, Heis! You did it!"

Lucky would never know how dear it was to him...the fact that her emotions ran so freely with her very being. Beaming. She would do nothing less than beam at him. Her eyes would glow and crinkle at their tails as they did when she gave him her most genuine smiles.

"You did it. You're free. Our...our family is free."

"...family?"

She would grab his hand. Just one. He needed the other steady on her cheek.

Lucky would bring that hand clasped in her own to her belly.

"Our family..."

"Our...another...another Heisenberg?"

In his dreams, she shyly escaped his gaze to nod.

"You...you haven't been alone. Not with me. Not with the start of our family. But now...now, Heis..." Her eyes popped back up all soft and sincere. "Now you'll never be alone again. Not with our baby Heisenberg on the way..."

The only break from his reverie was the slice to one of his favorite stained t-shirts. Only the fact that it was Heisenberg's powers directing the saw had it falling to the floor instead of through his tensed skin.

Heisenberg could only stand in shocked silence. The arm that had been spared from the violence came to grab his shoulder. Though no injury had occurred, he felt stabbed all the same.

Family...and joy?

Lucky...with him?

Another Heisenberg...alive?

A thought washed over him like ice entering his veins.

A boy or a girl...would we have a boy or a girl first?

First.

As if Lucky wished to be objected to more of his perverted and preposterous daydreams.

When he left the room, the metal was still shaking.

"Gotta get that fucking schematic...keep forgetting it...keep going to the office and...fuck...keep talking to her. Gotta stop fucking talking to her. Schematic. Get the fucking schematic."

Lucky had been asleep in bed when he first entered. A rushing relief to his soul. But as the search for the schematic went from flipping through one file to frantically reshuffling the wayward stack the paper should have been in, he knew it was only a matter of time before she would appear.

"Oh...ah!" Lucky yawned all cute and squeaky. "Good morning, Heis."

"Morning," he said flatly. "You...you move any of these lately?"

"No," she said sleepily. "I don't touch those...way above my pay grade. What are you looking for?"

"Core schematic," he grumbled. "Not fucking here...where the hell did I put it?"

Though Lucky made a very pointless questioning noise, she said nothing as she sat down and began her daily transcriptions. Hell, he had been grateful. She showed concern because she was simply a good person beneath all of the trauma and the terror she had reigned on his self-image. But she didn't pry or attempt to enter his space afterward where she would clearly only be in the way.

But that was before her second moan filled the office.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, never looking up from his stack of papers.

A frustrated sigh and a grumble came from the desk chair.

"Think I slept on my neck funny last night," she said. "Doesn't help that my posture is shit. Just making it impossible to find a good angle to work in."

Growing agitated at his fruitless search, Heisenberg whipped around to look at her. "Want some help?"

"Mmn?"

"Want a massage or something?" he offered. "A...ha! You'll find this funny. Supersized one up in the castle? Used to love to make me massage her neck when I was a kid. Fucking manual labor when I was barely old enough to write. Had maids to do it - an assload at that - and forced me to instead."

Raising an eyebrow at him, Lucky frowned. "Was it...did she...did she hurt you? Like...if you didn't do it?"

"Ah nah," he said, taking careful steps over to Lucky. "Told you...when I was a kid, I was off limits. I whine about it now...but...well...I was a kid. Bitch loves kids. So I had to massage her back...but only part of this stupid salon thing we used to do together. It was nothing. Stupid. Just like her."

He did not know what to make of Lucky's face. Tilting her head, she steadied a look on him that could only be called curious.

"It's...it's a good memory? Of Alcina when you were small?"

Heisenberg scoffed.

"It's a memory," he said, standing behind Lucky with a wide stance and an even wider stare at her neck. "Not good or bad...just...there. Now...where's it hurt, kid?"

Raising a hand, Lucky placed her fingers on a section of her neck before swirling her touch.

"Ah...there...like just this one spot, but fanning out..."

"Okay...looks like your C7."

"My what now?"

Chuckling, Heisenberg moved her hand out of the way. "Your C7 vertebrae. Duck your chin down so I can get in here properly."

Doing as she was told, Lucky's head moved forward and Heisenberg placed his gloved hands against her neck. His thumbs encased the pained area and began to move in slow yet sturdy circles.

Lucky immediately began squirming.

"Can you maybe try without the gloves?" she asked. "Those are like...rough or something."

Casting off his gloves quickly, Heisenberg rolled his shoulders before trying again. "Wah, wah, wah...doing you a favor and you're out here complaining. That better, your highness?"

"Yes, actually," she said, relaxing. "And thank you. Asshole."

Puffing air out of his mouth, Heisenberg merely shook his head as he kneaded her skin.

"Mmn!"

Heisenberg tried to hide his stillness by immediately starting to massage her skin again.

But the noise could not be ignored.

"What was that?"

"Your hands...they're so warm. Fuck...feels good."

"Oh..." he said dumbly. Blinking down at her, he turned his head away as he kept his fingers in motion.

The fact that his cock had begun to waken in his pants was not lost on him.

"Are you using your electric powers? Is that why it feels so good?"

"Nah...really shouldn't do that on the living above the waist."

Above the waist...but below the waist...

"Ah," he continued, running his teeth over the scar on his lower lip. "Cause of the heart or whatever. Probably your brain too from this angle. Could fry both without meaning to. And I was working...earlier. Probably why they feel hot."

Lucky sighed as he continued to work her neck. His fingers were sweeping but slow. He had started off so intently and so rough. What had happened?

I felt her skin. Felt her beneath me. Felt her neck...for all she knows I could snap it right now and instead of being afraid she's welcoming me...she trusts me...trusts me enough to let me do this...

The next round of his fingers on her neck dipped into skin purposeful in their worship.

Her response was immediate.

"Oh...oh...good boy," she whispered.

To say he was lost for words was like calling water wet.

Though he kept his massage in a rhythmic round, his eyes were wide as they could possibly be behind his glasses. So wide that they hurt.

What the hell did she just do to me?

If he had to go off of physical injury, he would say she punched him in the stomach with all the force of a train running at full speed.

If he had to go off of an attack to his psyche, he would say she wormed her way into some long buried and forgotten wire that sent his entire brain into overdrive.

If he had to go off the erection now straining against his paints, he would say that he was royally fucked.

"You really are so good at this," she said, her voice still breathless. "Good boy...my good boy, Heis."

Heisenberg snatched his hands away as if Lucky were lava.

"Wait! No...what's wrong?" she asked, turning slightly to look at him.

If she looks down...if she sees...

"GOTTA TAKE A SHIT!" he exclaimed suddenly.

Lucky's mouth dropped open as she gaped at him.

Then she nodded with a laugh playing at her lips.

"Yeah. Go. Just come back and finish your massage."

Before he could finish blinking, he found himself storming down the hallway.

Well...intending to storm. His gait was impacted a bit by his dick standing at full mast and his hands hurriedly attempting to unbuckle the straps around his pants.

So FUCKING dumb. A shit? Really? he thought, visibly grimacing. It would have probably been less embarrassing to admit I was about to jack it to her calling me hers.

Hers...her good boy...good...I'm her good boy...hahaha...

What am I? A fucking dog?

...don't answer that.

Rushing into the break room, he considered the couch before catching sight of the bathroom. With a flick of one wrist as his other hand pulled his cock from his underwear and pants, Heisenberg slammed open the bathroom door.

He managed to slide his pants down his legs as he sat on the toilet and closed the door with the weakest of hand movements.

Finally free from judgment, Heisenberg hissed as he fumbled his glasses to the nearby counter and took himself into his hand.

"Good boy...her good boy...fuck...fuck yeah I am, baby..."

A groan and a grunt fell from his lips as he jerked his hand along his shaft.

All too often this act had been nothing but release from tension. An exploration so technical and so tedious as to be boring. But now with Lucky at his side and in his bed - however platonically she slept there - the images that plagued him seemed vibrantly real and tempting in their joyful teasing.

Imaginings - hopes and dreams and fantasies - that he could only cling onto in the moment.

The desk.

He would take her right on that same desk she was taking notes on.

"Oh, Karl," she would say, despite not knowing his first name. "Gonna be my good boy?"

"Yes," he said aloud, eyes closing and mind prickling with sights of her and waves of pleasure.

Lucky would be splayed on his desk - lying on her back and presenting herself to him as if she were a meal to be consumed instead of a darling treasure to worship.

"That's good...only good boys are allowed to fuck me. Isn't that what you want?"

"Yes...yes...god fucking damnit. YES." Huffing and hating the tremble in his thighs, Heisenberg bucked into his hand. "Yes...only me...wanna be your good boy. I'll be so good for you. Only you, Mein Schatz..."

A dirty laugh from her lips. The Lucky of his dreams becoming more and more defined as she palmed one breast and teased her clit with the fingers of her other hand.

"Mmm...know what you're saying you know...my treasure...that's so cute...been feeling the same way about you lately...thinking of you...dreaming of you...my good boy want to tell me what else he's been feeling? Mmn? Big boy wanna tell me before you put your cock inside of me?"

Lips loose along with his pleasure, Heisenberg found he could not build his voice to say the words aloud.

So he mouthed them instead. Mouthed them and stuttered in his quest for pleasure as his hand curled about his shaft at the "lah" tipping silently from his tongue.

"Oh, darling..." A smile. She'd smile. Genuine and sweet and sincere and all for him. "I love you too, Karl."

"Mmnnn....ah...fu-UCK!" With a panicked inhale, Heisenberg quickly pinched the head of his cock to prevent his end from coming too soon. "No, no, no...not yet...not yet...please..."

Though the pleasure was unlike anything he had previously experienced and his calves clenched in protest of a release delayed, his oncoming orgasm stalled and began to fade.

"Such a good boy," said Lucky, eyeing him in his fantasy like she would look at a drink of water on a hot day. "That's right. You don't come until I tell you to. Understand?"

A nod of his head.

"Good, good boy. My good boy. Good Karl. Come on...think it's time you got your treat...here...I'll help you..."

With her fingers moving to fully expose the inside of that wet and preciously pink pussy of hers, Lucky looked up at him with a lidded look.

Heisenberg had no experience with another person when it came to handling his physical pleasure. Hell, with any pleasure or positive feeling at all. Except maybe the triumph of victory over others, he had never had the chance to experience happiness - true happiness and trust and faith in another soul.

Until her.

And for her...for her he would indulge and give himself freely...if only locked away inside of his mind.

Inexperience taking a back seat to passion, he pictured himself guiding his cock into her waiting and welcoming body. Maybe he would steady himself with a hand on her hip or simply with a heated stare into her eyes.

He all but strangled his cock to try to mimic a feeling he had never known and had never thought to miss before her.

"Uh-huh," whined Lucky in his dreams. "Oh...you're so big...fill me up just right. So fucking thick..."

"Hah...ah...your good boy big enough for you?"

"Yes...oh yes...yes...so big...such a perfect dick...please...please Karl...Heis...please, baby, please...Heis?"

When he began to rut into his own hand with a purpose, he felt flames like that of standing directly beside the blaring crucible dancing across his cheeks. Though some of his daydream seemed vague and hard to read, he had enough to know that he could not delay the inevitable for much longer. Lucky - the real and actual Lucky - was still waiting for him back in the office. Waiting and none the wiser to his desperate need for her affection. It sickened him - the want for anything and everything to do with her.

Sickened him...and sent electric shocks of white pleasure down his spine.

"So fucking perfect...you're so fucking perfect for me, Lucky...oh..."

"Heis..."

"Huh...ah...already so close...so damn worked up...can't stand it...can't stand you looking like that..."

"Like what?"

Heaving and heatedly squirming where he sat, Heisenberg noticed for the first time that one of his boots jutted up and down on the floor beneath him. As if his entire body refused to be still.

"Most beautiful fucking thing I've ever seen," he bit out. "Please...please, Luck...I know it's soon...but please..."

A tilted head and a gentle grin. A pointer finger that danced around her clit and drew his eyes away only long enough for her to breathe out shallow and short. His eyes snapped back to hers immediately.

"Please what?"

"Please let me come...let me come inside you...wanna...wanna take you...claim you...don't want you with anyone else ever again."

Glinting eyes and lush eyelashes.

"You're gonna be all that to me, Heis? Well...in that case..."

Her lips finding his own. His very first kiss - albeit imaginary. Her lips soft but without taste. His own lips puckering even as they trembled from the need for more.

"In that case," she continued, taunting him in his ear. "Come, Heis. Be a good boy and come for me."

Hindsight would have him chastising himself for not thinking to grab some tissue. In the moment, however, he was too busy panting and watching his cum dot the floor in thick strips. Heisenberg growled...tried to hold on to the image of her with one eye still closed.

Reality settled in on him. Settled in even as his stomach quivered underneath his shirt and his orgasm began to relax into his bones. It was pleasant and his every nerve seemed to stand on edge. Tingles of pleasure radiated from his chest to his feet flat against the floor. Gulping in air, he knew he had never come so hard before in his life. It was good...great even.

But it was not her. It was not enough.

Clean up was a quick and tedious affair. Lucky could not know what he had done in her quarters. The tissues he found too late to wipe his seed from the floor were tossed and flushed away. He checked the room once and then again once his shades were back on his face.

Finishing the belt at the top of his pants, he cleared his throat before exiting.

The television in the break room still hummed though it sat completely dead in the meager light from the ceiling.

Shit...glad she wasn't in here. Never had anyone here to care about when I got down to business...no telling what my powers do with electronics...

The schematic. He had to find that damn schematic.

Trying to level his breathing as he stalked the hallway, Heisenberg considered the day before him. Lucky had not wished to attend a revitalization attempt with him yet. While he didn't intend to push her into seeing something that might scar her again, it might be worthwhile to have her eyes in the room at some point. She hadn't complained about the notes yet. Maybe he should offer? Make it sound like a small deal and let her in when it was near completion? Give her a taste before exposing her to more?

Fucking stupid...it's all so fucking stupid...what happened to me? If she were any assistant, I would just drag her ass there and have her record the whole thing. Fuck me with all this concerned shit.

But she's not just any assistant...

Entering the office, he stilled at the doorway when he saw Lucky facing him from her chair.

"Uh...hey," he said, licking his lips. "Sorry about that. Took...ah...let's just forget it."

"Actually," she began. "I need to be honest with you. Because of what happened before..."

Eyebrows shooting up, he stood in silence before she continued.

"Um...so...I was sitting here...sitting here and trying to rub my neck or whatever..."

"Yes?"

"Well...the radio came on and it freaked me out a little bit..." She paused, her fidgety look dropping to the floor. "But...the more I listened...the more I...recognized your voice."

"My...my voice?"

"Yes."

Heisenberg could not move. He shouldn't be looking at her, but he was afraid if he blinked that the tension would break and she would begin laughing or cursing or, worst of all, apologizing.

"Umm...it...I heard you. And I guess you were...I guess it was real time." A tent of her fingers and a swallow in her throat. "I heard your comment and responded and...I think...I think you could hear me too. Possibly? You seemed to...seemed to be replying to what I said directly."

Shame. Shame for a million years fell on his shoulders that had felt so light before.

"Where?" he managed to say. "Where did you come in? What comment did you respond to?"

How she looked at him, he had no idea. She was far braver than he could ever be. Heisenberg planned to face down Miranda without a single hesitation one day on that glorious battlefield where his freedom could be won.

But now? Faced with Lucky standing and walking toward him with the full weight of her eyes upon him?

He looked away.

"You said...you asked me if my good boy was big enough for me."

The purr in her voice. The sound of her steps growing closer. The burn in his throat.

"After that," she said. "I called your name...I...responded to you and you to me."

"That didn't...I..." He shook his head. "I...umm..."

"Can I hold your hand?"

Head shooting up, Heisenberg caught her heated look. The same heated look she had worn in his dreams.

He nodded. Nodded even though he barely registered it until she took his hand and steps to press herself flush against him.

When she spoke, it was hushed and low.

For him and him only.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom...freshen up. Since we know you can communicate from the radio to the television...I want you to tell me when it's okay to come back here. I'm giving you two options."

Heisenberg hung on her every word and looked at her as if she controlled his every movement.

"The first...you can leave. Can give me enough time to go there...find what you were looking for...then tell me you're off to do whatever. I won't mention this again. We won't mention it."

Silence fell between the two of you. A crackle of the radio to the side of the room.

"And the other option?" he asked, voice nearly breaking.

A shy look. A happy tilt of her lips.

"The other option...you can rest for a bit before I come back here and make whatever fantasy you were having come true."

A mouth drier than dry left his tongue feeling too large. Too large and too needed to swipe across his lips.

"You don't have to answer now-"

"The second one," he said. "Second one. Want that one. Screw the first one."

A bright and happy smile. A smile that crinkled the tail of her eyes and lit up her face.

She was beaming at him. Squeezing his hand before parting from him.

Not for long...not for damn long if he could help it.

"You give me the word then, good boy," she teased, walking out of the room.

Legs nearly buckling and sending him to the ground, Heisenberg took uneasy steps to his office chair before throwing himself on it. His entire body buzzed, though it seemed far less like electricity and far more like promise and hope. Not love on her end...not yet. But a maybe. Potential.

More.

Grinning stupidly and looking at the desk, he made quick work of clearing the area for the fun he planned on having from his daydream to come true.

As soon as he picked up the recorder Lucky used to transcribe his notes, Heisenberg saw it.

That damned schematic.

His last visit to this same room. A note on said schematic stating "DON'T FORGET" in large words. A note he carelessly put there before guiding Lucky to sit down to look at her transcriptions and laugh with her over the sixth stable boy in one week to die of drunken stupidity.

Quietly and contentedly, he opened the desk drawer to stuff the schematic inside.

"Mmn...don't think I'll need you for a while yet actually..." Eyeing the radio on the wall, Heisenberg tossed his glasses to the table and tried to slick and perfect the wiry hair about his head. "Oh, Lucky, honey...room is ready whenever you are...and so is your good boy."

#karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x you #heavy metal lover #divergence #good boy #asks #the alcina bit is carried over to hml #i can see her doing cute salon days with the kids #heisenberg complains about it now #but then? #highlight of his little emo life #smut

[marvel-m-lee]

Fun scripted memories I have in my DR bc I can.

Eddie and I having breakfast across the table without speaking and just giving each 9ther a mini wave and smile.

Watching the sunrise or set with Bruce. (This was my first Core memory and I the first thing i do, everything is in the Tickle series 😂)

Thor and Loki taking me to asgard and giving me a dress, it's gorgeous and Thor does my hair and Loki helps when Thors a bit rough <3

When the snap eventually does happen, I go back to the compound and go in my room. Bc I have the stones in my blood I'm technically one of the strongest in other ways so I was able to hold on. But I was also snapped. Before I go thiugh, wade comes in and sees me beginning to fade and we hug with tears in our eyes and I'm just dust.

I actually have tickles scripted, so wade knows I enjoy them and loves taking the piss 💀

Strange knows I'm from another reality but doesn't mention anything-

Vis and I having a deep conversation on the roof about right and wrong.

Wade and I watching yhe stars.

Peter, Wade and I (Eddie pops in and out constantly) have a sleep over in the cinema and take selfies and stuff. It's so much fun omg 😩🤭

Tony and I in a convertible just on the road bc why not?

Bucky and Sam teasing and chasing Peter and I-

The GOTG having a massive dance battle on Just Dance which I get to join in on- omg its so fun!💃🕺💃🕺💃🕺💃

Scott, Wade, Clint, Eddie, Peter, Sam, Bucky and I playing card games together taking the piss. Steve, Tony and Nat join later.

Adding onto the previous, GAME NIGHTS. Usually ends in tickles for me tho ngl. Or Peter.

I read a fic ages ago about Parker not wanting to get up so Tony Tickles him and theres a watertight. So yh, that.

CHRISTMAS! Gingerbread and cupcakes and SNOW OMG THE SNOW FIGHTS! UGH. I STG I TAKE STEVES SHIELD AND BUCKY PUSHES ME DIWN A HILL ITS SO COOL

Baking with Wanda bc I LOVE baking

Asking Eddie for any writing tips bc I love to write.

Venom usually joins with me if the two are having a major argument or Eddie's taking a shower. Idk, he just likes it? Luckily my body can take him in so- yay... he finds out pretty quickly I enjoy being tickled.

Eddie's also a lee. Random, but I like that fact.

Bucky is so sweet- he'll love talking or joking or hanging out when he's I'm a good mood and if he's in a bad mood then he'll just try to stay away but I'll give him hugs and love <3

Sam is awesome. He's like an uncle brother and omg its just lit. Love him. He's also one of the first ppl I meet

Tony and Bruce letting me work in the lab with them. Peter too.

Crashing a date between Tony and Pepper bc I can. I change the songs with peppa pig tunes and All Star (the shreck song by Big Mouth 🤣)

Steve drawing. I just catch him sometimes.

Steve also likes to tell stories about the war, real old man type shit, while Bucky will tell me thibgs about when they were younger and how Steve got the ahit beaten out of him. I love them 💀

Wade climbing through the window-

Clint teaching me how to shoot a bow and accidentally almost hitting Sam-

Clint in the vents and Tony, Sam, Bucky, Nat and I all kicking it randomly throughout the day jusy incase he's in there 💀

Thor and his pop tarts... I've never tried them before, or not in like 6 years or smth, so he casually stuffs them down my throat

Loki and I reading by the fire <3

Wanda teaching me how she uses her powers while I use mine bc i got no fucking clue .

Ice cream. One is Eddie having ice cream to piss off Venom. Ends badly for E.

Loki and i pulling pranks and getting wrecked afterwards. So worth it in my opinion. Loki was just embarrassed 😂

Loki and Thor singing in asgardian <3

Karaoke night, on this massive stadium. Ugh, love it! Peter and I have a duo, so do Tony and Steve and they sing the Greatest Showman The Other Side or snth bc I forced everyone to and OMG ITS JUST SO COOL.

Halloween parties. So much chaos. And I lob candy at ppl

Easter, look at my easter fic, basically along them lines.

Nat and I doing make up

Nat training me to do that neck thing but I just keep making sex jokes 💀✌ she shuts me up...

Loki and Thor dancing around the fire as they sing in asgardian and the team all clap as Peter and i join in <3

Tbh I'm really enjoying writing these so imma just add randomly bc they are really gd for feeling connected <3333

#marvel #mcu #sfw tickles #shifting #shifting realities #shiftblr #mcu shifting

[hansolmates]

cherry contact |🍒

summary: jihoon has access to all versions of you - your credit score, shopping habits, work emails, even your terrible tinder history. pairing; fbi agent!jihoon x civilian!reader (f) genre/warnings; fluff, crack, it’s really just that “your fbi agent” meme that caused everyone 8 years ago to put tape over their webcams, questionable viewing habits for an fbi agent, language, dick talk, mentions of sex, jihoon has feelings and is confused, he is a PINER, tw—sexual harassment  w/c; 3.3k  a/n; i can’t believe i finished this😭😭 part of meraki’s job collaboration and i’ve been dying to do a svt collab since the dawn of time and finally today’s the day! it’s been a hot moment since i’ve written for jihoon, glad i managed to get those svt writing muscles going! a huge thank you to @merakiiverse​ and @woozisnoots​ for putting this together. readers pls definitely check back on the masterlist linked above to see more of the other talented cwc writers and their rendition of the job prompt!

if you like this fic please consider giving it a like n’share!🤓🖥🤓🖥

“Kevin, 32, works at Kodak,” you scroll further to the description, “I love being tied up and need a dominatrix, have swing at home—no.” Swipe right. 

“Lisa, 24, works at Infinity Dance Studio,” you definitely are weak for athletic ladies, “My hobbies include cuticle care and online shopping! Looking for a sugar daddy or mommy that can spoil me rotten—definitely can’t afford that kind of relationship.” Swipe right. 

“Hansol, 26, works in an art museum,” sounds promising, you love art, “wait, why are all his pictures of him holding fish? Is he inside a fish? Who the heck finds that attractive?” Swipe right. 

“Billiam, 31, works in finance. Needs a bratty baby girl who can triangle,” you grimace, “what is with these guys and stating their kinks from the get-go? Gotta take a girl out to dinner first, and the fuck is a triangle?” 

You swore off Tinder since the dark ages, also known as senior year of college. However you’re in a particular slump, thirst-trapped between needing some serious dick and a committed relationship. You’d prefer the latter, but after a stressful day at work and the fact that it’s the ass crack o’dawn, you’ll take what you can get. 

“Bye Billiam,” you sing-song into your phone, moving to swipe right. 

Except you accidentally drop your phone between your sheets, and when you pick it up you accidentally swipe left. 

“Fuck fuck fuck me with a fuckin’ fuck nugget!” you cry out into oblivion. You’re so glad you live alone at the very least, it stops you from looking like a crazy person when you talk your potential sexipades out. 

Billiam has Super-liked you! 

“No. Nononono—” you bludgeon your head against your pillow, frowning when your phone opens up a chat for you and Billiam. 

Billiam: hi can u check if my dick is too small

You: please, don’t send me a picture of your dick. 

Billiam is typing… 

You: for fuck’s sake—

“—that’s disgusting,” Jihoon curses, and immediately sends out the screenshot for sexual harassment. 

“What’s disgusting?” Mingyu chimes, swiveling in his spinny chair from his side of the room.

“Don’t look,” Jihoon gags, reaching for a bottle of Coca-Cola from the mini-fridge. “You’ll throw up your fried chicken.” 

“My person is a twenty-one year old nympho who also happens to be a incel,” Mingyu chastises to his screen, closing up the eighth tab of BBC porn he’s seen this week, “he doesn’t know how well he’s avoiding the FBI’s eyes,” Mingyu shakes his head, “so I’ve seen some pretty bad shit, but I’ll take your word for it.” 

“No,” he echoes your name like you’ve done the most heinous thing in the world, “no, no! Why would you swipe left on Jackson? You’re way out of his league! He literally looks like he has a pea-sized brain!” 

“He does look like he has half a brain cell,” your voice reverberates through his noise-cancelling headphones, unknowingly agreeing to Jihoon’s passionate throw of anger, “but I’m deprived and desperate, so!” 

It’s like you can hear his sentiments exactly. 

“Literally, you could have any person you want,” Jihoon chastises through his desktop, glaring heavily at your bedroom camera, “you’re wasting your time with these losers!” 

Oblivious, you let yourself dangle across the bed. The camera isn’t the best quality, but Jihoon watches intently at the rise and fall of your chest as you attempt to fall into a fitful sleep. 

“Some yell at screens for soccer,” Minghao says to the air from his cubicle, “some yell for Starcraft, but Jihoon yells for Tinder like it’s an Olympic sport.” 

“Jihoonie,” Mingyu rolls around his chair, resting a long arm over the backrest, “do you have a crush on your civilian?” 

Jihoon immediately swivels around his hair, meeting the amused eyes of Mingyu. “No,” he says sharply, whipping around to glare at his screen. 

He glares harder the longer Mingyu’s simple question sinks in. He doesn’t have a crush on you, he likes you. Jihoon swallows his sigh, wondering why you would want to go as low as Tinder to look for a potential tryst. From your profile, you’re absolutely beautiful and intelligent. You have simple pleasures that match his—a hot cup of tea right after dark, snuggling under a weighted blanket while watching anime, and sleeping in on Sundays.

Unlike him, you don’t see the world through half a dozen lenses and a plethora of information right at your fingertips. No, you’re lucky. 

“Hey can you grab me my water bottle?” Mingyu asks over his shoulder. 

Jihoon thinks nothing of it, leaving his post for the thirty seconds it takes to get to the mini-fridge and grab Mingyu’s Hydroflask. 

“You got a call,” Mingyu says when he plops the bottle on his desk, indicating to the red blinker on Jihoon’s computer. 

It isn’t until he puts on his headphones does he take care to see why his blinker is going off. 

He’s getting an incoming call. From you. 

You’ve been waiting on the line for about two minutes. He lets two additional minutes breeze by because Jihoon is internally screaming. You’re calling again. There’s a fire blazing in his brain, his fingers hot as he twitches against the spacebar of his keyboard. 

From the monitor he can see that you’ve given up on sleep, hands pawing through your drawer so you can take a final swipe at your magenta-tinted lip balm before nesting yourself in the sheets. You’re kicking around as if you don’t have work at 9AM, smacking your lips to apply the shiny salve while you wait for your call to be picked up. 

“Why is my civilian calling me,” it isn’t a question, it’s a thinly veiled indication that Jihoon is ready to fight whoever compromised him like this. 

Mingyu and Minghao fail to answer. That’s okay, he isn’t opposed to killing both if neither fess up. 

It would be so easy for him to ignore the call, or redirect it to another part of the office. Yet he aches to talk to you, for real talk to you. As if you’re just two regular plain-old human beings with normal lives, and as if he didn’t know every nook and cranny about your daily routine and your favorite breakfast foods.

Call it pride, call it confidence, but Jihoon’s been pretty good at games and he hopes prior experience helps him get over this hurdle. Slipping on his headset, he accepts the call and answers in a controlled voice, “This is the local hotline for sexual harassment reports, are you here to report a case?” 

Okay, so this is the closest thing he can get to having a full-fledged conversation with you, so he’ll take it. 

“Hi,” you mumble your name into the phone, and he nearly disintegrates right then and there. It’s different when he can hear your voice directly in his ears, definitively reaching out to him as opposed to being a fly on the wall, “I received an email that a report was sent out for my previous chat as sexual harassment, but I didn’t send out a report.” 

“Yes,” Jihoon replies smoothly, tapping his nails against his thighs, “it’s a new update.” 

“Oh, well thank you,” you reply, and Jihoon sees from the camera that you’re staring at your phone in curiosity. 

“It’s my job,” he says, and the words hold more weight than you think, “are you okay?” 

“Is it also your job to ask how I’m doing?” 

He smiles wryly, and he looks up at the monitor to see how you’ve considerably relaxed on your bed. Your legs dangle in the air, and you’re hugging a mango plushie with all the love in the world. “Not really, but I figured I’d ask. I don’t think I’d be able to recover from a dick that looks like an unhinged toenail.” 

Your laugh flutters in his ears, and his stomach is flip-flopping with more than just his shitty ramen lunch. Your face curls and wrinkles into happiness at the lewd joke, and you rest your chin on your stuffed fruit. 

“I’m okay,” you finally answer, “it’s not the first time I’ve seen subpar dick. But thank you… what’s your name?” 

“Uji,” he says, a codename that he considers as precious as his actual name, “feel free to call or text this number if you’re ever feeling uncomfortable and in distress.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind, good night Uji.” 

“Good night.” 

That wasn’t so bad, Jihoon thinks as he hangs up the phone. He dims the monitors to let you freshen up and get ready for bed, as per your schedule. After tonight, he hopes he can be sated with his curiosity of you. Maybe he needs to follow your plans and open up a dating account or something, he feels that he’s starting to get a little too engrossed in your presence. 

The waning starts today. 

You: help, i’m feeling uncomfortable and in distress

Uji: what is it this time? 

You: i can’t decide which weighted blanket i should get. Will more weight make me feel more comforted or will i accidentally suffocate myself in my sleep? 

The waning of you did not start that night, in fact it never began. Jihoon’s been on edge for weeks, simultaneously teetering between what he calls the high-school equivalent of the talking stage and an absolute catastrophe. 

It started as an accident, you meant to call your friend’s number for cooking help but since the last call before your friends was his, you called Jihoon instead. To your surprise, he knew how to roll out homemade pasta without a pasta machine. You kept him on the call for the entirety of dinner preparation, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride when your pasta turned out perfect and you were happy and full for the entire night. 

Weeks later, and you’ve been texting each other for shits and giggles. At first you chalk up your insistence that he’s basically Human Google and has the answers to seemingly anything and everything, but over time it seems that you enjoy your daily interactions with him. Whether it be a simple phone call asking how to unclog your drain or a screenshot comparing two different KitchenAids, he’s at your disposal. 

The burner phone he’s been holding as of late is on silent, but he’s able to pick it up immediately. It’s almost intuition, coupled with the way he notices whenever you seem in a pickle and you need to contact him. However he does not have a chance to formulate a reply, as you’re now calling him.

“Couldn’t wait?” he speaks as if you’re familiar with each other, as if you’re friends. Jihoon longs for that so much, he would love to be upgraded to someone other than the IT guy you text for funsies. 

“Yes,” you say, voice laced with determination, “I’m deciding on whether to just like or Super-Like this guy on Light a Flame.” 

Jihoon deflates a little, but steels himself. You’d never want to go on a date with the IT guy, it seems that you enjoy the anonymity of your recent communications. Your conversations are definitely meme-worthy. 

“Who is it?” 

“His name’s Lee Jihoon, 25, works in the FBI.” 

He chokes on his coffee, precious beans from Argentina, and the liquid is flying across his keyboard. 

Pulling up your phone view, it confirms the worst. In a moment of Weakness with a capital W, Jihoon had caved and made a Light a Flame profile the other night. It’s an app reserved for more serious relationships, which means you’ve finally graduated from Tinder. 

“Are you okay?” he wants to cry when he hears you on the other line, genuinely panicked. “Do you need me to send you his profile?” 

“N-no,” he sputters, rubbing a rough napkin from McDonalds over his dripping chin. He thought he privated his profile last week after he realized there was nothing he could do to let loose of you. Turns out that isn’t the case, because you’re currently pursuing his profile and actually kinda-sorta considering him for a potentially serious relationship. 

“C’mon, Uji,” you tease lightly, “you always seem to know what to do. This is your area of expertise after all, since you work for that kind of department.” 

What should he do, scratch that, what can he do? It’s a complete violation of policy to be fraternizing with his civilian life. Sure, there has been episodes of civilians and agents meeting each other, but only minor violations that both parties forgot about shortly after. He’s so far deep at this point, he can risk being relocated or losing his civilian—losing you. 

“Do you think he really works in the FBI?” you say when he doesn’t reply immediately, “he’s really cute, though. Totally looks like my style, and he likes My Hero as well! C’mon, I just need for you to check as to whether he’s a homicidal maniac or a compulsive liar.” 

Liar. He’s a liar. 

That self-accusation prompts him to slump in defeat, and he mumbles in the phone, “I don’t think he’s worth it. I’d say pass.” 

“Hey, Coups has seniority,” Soonyoung pats Jihoon thoughtfully on the back with one hand, and grilling meat with the other. Barbeque always lifted up Jihoon’s spirits. “Why don’t you give it a chance and meet her for real? And then he can give me your super cute civilian and then he can give my shitty civilian to some newbie.” 

“And if it doesn’t work out, I just lose her,” Jihoon’s eyes are watering, most likely from the excess smoke around their grill, but it does align with his current state of sadness. It was the right thing to do, he thinks over and over as he replays that phonecall from last night. “Hoshi, if you were in my situation, would you have done the same?” 

“Like I said–” Soonyoung—codename Hoshi, waves his tongs around like a magic wand, “your civilian is super cute, so I would be making a beeline to her house and—” 

“Okay, don’t finish that sentence,” you’re his civilian, not Soonyoung’s. 

“Cheer up, c’mon,” Soonyoung’s filling his bowl with all sorts of delicious things, charred vegetables, mixed rice, and pork belly. Jihoon’s favorite is pork belly, so eventually he relents with a timid smile, taking out his chopsticks to appease his friend, “there it is, Uji. Food always makes things better—” 

“Uji?” 

Both off-duty agents freeze, hearing the familiar ting of your voice as it glares holes into Jihoon’s back. It’s you. Since they’re off the clock, he would have no idea you’d be here. Usually that’s fine, it’s early morning and it’s pretty unlikely that you’d run into your civilian considering you’re supposed to know every second of their schedule. It seems that tonight you’ve varied from the norm. 

“Uh, hey?” 

His back is still facing you, and he’s side eying Soonyoung in a panic. He’s wearing a cap and a nondescript hoodie, feeling like a shlub as your familiar voice pings back at him with excitement. 

“I knew I recognized your voice!” you’re unfazed, definitely not realizing the distress the two men are currently going through. “What a small world, I didn’t think we’d ever actually run into each other!” 

“Talk to her, you ass!” Soonyoung hisses, and immediately swivels his chair so he has no choice but to face you.

You’re so, so pretty. Prettier in person, prettier than any crappy 480p screen can give him. You’re definitely not dressed for barbeque, in fact you look like you’re just passing by to pick up a to-go order after a night out. You’re dressed in a silky looking velvet off-the-shoulder top, the cherry red color practically melting onto your skin. The black skirt paired with it has Jihoon salivating for more than just barbeque, and he has no idea how to look away. 

The smile is wiped clean off your face however, and you recognize him almost immediately. “Jihoon?” 

This should be a moment of joy for him, after all it’s far too late to go back at this point. You look a little hurt, your face twisted in confusion as you put two and two together. 

Soonyoung excuses himself to go to the bathroom, although neither party seems to care. The lame, over-distended EDM music that plays over the cacophony of the barbeque place seems to melt in the atmosphere, much like how the smoke hits the fan, and it’s just you two in the room. Jihoon gestures a pale hand to Soonyoung’s seat, and you take a beat to reluctantly sit yourself down. 

You clutch your skirt with both hands, thumbs ringing against the pleats and ironing them out. “So, you’re also Jihoon?” your voice is tiny, small and sad. Jihoon feels liquid guilt inject in his veins, and he wishes he could reach out and pat your shoulder, hold your hand, something. However no matter how much he knows you, he’s a stranger to you. “Why did you lie to me?” 

“It’s… complicated,” you shake your head at his pathetic reply, and Jihoon hates this. He feels like he’s drowning in smoke and mirrors and the cloying scent of pork belly is now sticking to all his senses, immobilizing him. 

With a cross of your arms, you scoff, “It’s always complicated.” 

“Please don’t think I said those things the other night because I don’t want to date you,” Jihoon tumbles the words out like a hamster wheel, wanting to speed up to your pace as fast as he can, “I want to, I really do, but it’s—”

“Complicated.” 

“Yeah.” 

The two of you sit in silence, letting the noise back into your little bubble. Jihoon feels his stare on you, akin to how a teacher looks over your shoulder during an exam. He robotically eats rice, grain after grain as he lets you have your look. 

The slope of his nose, the cotton smooth skin, the lean yet strong stature. You can’t believe he matches the Light a Flame profile perfectly. Other than the frumpy clothes, he matches the man on your phone, a simple picture in a black suit that reminds you strangely of the movie Kingsman. You mentally roll through what you remember from his profile, his hobbies, his likes and dislikes, his occupation—

“Wait,” you pause, your brows knitting together, “so the FBI thing on your profile… is not a joke?” 

Jihoon forgets to chew his last bite, and he swallows a whole two centimeters of meat down his throat. Ouch. 

“It’s—” 

“Complicated.” 

The adjective has a whole new meaning now. It’s crazy how in so little words, so much is exchanged between you two. You might not be realizing it, but Jihoon’s so attuned to you he feels like the pick to your guitar, strumming and humming along your chords like it’s second nature. It really isn’t fair, but anticipating your reactions helps greatly. 

“There’s things you’re not telling me.” 

“Right.” 

“And things you can’t tell me,” you add. 

“Yes.” 

“Then what are some things you can tell me?” 

“I’d… rather not here,” Jihoon’s eyes dart around the room, looking for all the pinholes and micro cams attached to the restaurant. By the bonsai, under the table, in the koi tank, “I need to work out some paperwork before anything.” 

“Paperwork?” 

Jihoon nods mutely, but he looks at you with a litany of emotions in his eyes you’re reeling back in your stool. Why do you feel like this man knows you from a simple five-minute interaction? And why do you feel like you can trust this man with your life? 

“Okay,” you finally say. 

“Really? Okay?” you think he’s cute, the way his eyes perk up and his back straightens. 

“Really.” 

Silence fills the space once more. This time however, it feels more at ease. 

“The only reason why I’m saying yes,” you pretend to nonchalantly play with your fingertips, a manicure reserved for a date you’ve long abandoned for this evening in favor of a new flame, “is because I think FBI agents are kinda hot.” 

A flush blooms on Jihoon’s cheeks, and you can’t help but giggle. 

#jihoon x reader #woozi x reader #caratwritersclub #kwritersworldnet #svtcreations #jihoon fic #woozi fic #seventeen fic #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #jihoon scenarios #woozi scenarios

[samingtonwilson]

Mac and Cheese

Summary: Bucky takes the last box of frozen mac and cheese, takes your phone, and makes you fall in love with him. The audacity of that man.

Prompt: “This has been a very bad week and you just grabbed the last box of my favorite comfort food at the supermarket” 

Pairing: bucky x reader

a/n: i wrote this and was fully done formatting it and everything, like, 6 months ago. i didn’t post it because it’s approx. 82% nonsense but i figured why not post it now when it’s still 82% nonsense but im struggling to finish everything else. so taal, long time vegan, writes a story about mac and cheese and, listen, idk what this fic is either. can i write a fic without adding sam to it? no.

Mac and cheese. That’s all you want. Disgusting, frozen, usually-quite-mushy-if-not-microwaved-correctly mac and fucking cheese. 

The kind with the layer of cheese on top. The kind with that real elbow pasta, not rotini or penne or seashell pasta— real macaroni. The kind you try to only eat one serving size of before you eat everything in the package. The kind you always gravitate to when your eyes are stained red, swollen, and too proud to be anything other than dry.

You take the subway. You switch lines. You endure the smell of the F train during rush hour when you aren’t sure where your thigh ends and the thigh of the woman sitting beside you begins. All for that one Trader Joe’s, out of many, in Brooklyn the hipsters abandon before six because the coffee shop next door closes at five.

Your feet ache in your boots and you’re pretty sure a rock has somehow lodged itself between your toes, it’s starting to rain and you have no umbrella, you don’t think your throat has ever felt so parched. 

But you tuck your phone into your back pocket and march into that store with the hideous overhead lighting that makes your skin look like it hasn’t seen a bottle of toner in days like you’re Hades, the box of mac and cheese is Persephone, and Trader Joe’s is Mount Olympus.

You aren’t planning on smiling at anyone in greeting. You aren’t planning on making eye contact with anyone. You aren’t even planning on waiting politely behind whoever is inevitably idly standing in front of the pasta section of the frozen aisle— you’re going to say, “Excuse me.” Like the badass, New Yorker, on-the-verge-of-tears bitch you are and you’re going to toss that mac and cheese into your basket like you’re Steph Curry at the NBA Finals.

Lines are long when you walk in, cashiers bored-looking and tired. The produce section is a jungle of stay at home fathers and people who make their own pressed juice, the salad display a mess of college students trying to eat healthy. 

Your eyes accidentally meet those of a toddler who is slyly plucking a grape from a bag he had no intention of spending his allowance on and you smile.

You hold your basket like a designer handbag and dilly-dally only for a moment to pick up some yogurt for breakfast tomorrow. 

And some inauthentic babka because there’s no way in hell you’re going to endure Zabar’s after this. 

And a package of olive oil popcorn, a bottle of three dollar chardonnay, and string cheese. 

But that’s it. Self-control.

You feel the chill of the frozen aisle before you step into it. You feel the magnetic pull of that box with only one step in its direction. You stop for just a second to grab the mini mango and cream pops.

You almost roll your eyes to yourself when you see that someone is indeed standing right in front of the frozen selection of pasta. He’s staring at two boxes— a red one in his gloved left hand and the one in his right hand green.

As you grow closer you notice behind his curtain of dark hair that his eyebrows are knit together and he’s frowning at a decision he must be forcing himself to make. 

Sophie’s Choice, but involving mediocre excuses for Italian food and no Nazis— hopefully. Because who really knows these days?

He wears a forest green hoodie under a black leather jacket, black jeans tight around thick thighs. Boots, too. You think you might swoon.

And you wait behind him. You tap your foot, shift your weight, and chew on your bottom lip. You don’t say anything.

He looks over his shoulder when you curse under your breath and set the heavy basket at your feet. He’s apologetic— and handsome— by the looks of it, blue eyes slightly widened and lips downturned. “Shit,” he says as he takes a few steps to the right. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug. You kick your basket with the toe of your boot until it lightly smacks against the bottom of the freezer. “No problem. It’s a big decision.”

His eyes lift from the boxes and he smiles. “Biggest one I’ve gotten to make in a while.”

Setting your hands atop the cold metal railing, you stare down into the freezer. You see farfalle with roasted tomatoes, rigatoni with pesto, ricotta and spinach ravioli, roasted vegetable lasagna, cauliflower gnocchi, chicken parm, and… an empty space. 

You tilt your head.

You lean away and crouch to read the description cards, looking for the bubble letters to tell you where on Earth your saving grace is. When you spot the card, you stand again. The indicated space is empty, your heart is empty, your will to live is—

A box of organic pesto tortellini is tossed back into the freezer and you look up. Your eyes might lose their prideful dryness at any moment, even in public next to that handsome stranger with the nice jacket and,

the box of mac and cheese.

You gasp audibly and leap backwards. You point at the box in his left hand.

With an expression of panic, he holds his hands— and the box— up in innocence. “It’s okay. I’m not—”

“What the fuck is that?” you shout to gain the attention of customers you don’t even perceive, waggling your finger at the box. Your wide-eyed stare, and bared teeth, and messy hair must be terrifying. You hope they are.

He looks down at his hand. An eyebrow lifts. And, confusedly, he asks, “The box?”

“Yes, the fucking box!”

“It’s mac and—” he meets your gaze again. You’re wearing your anger like armor. But you aren’t scared. Bucky thinks he might never have felt such relief at a woman’s anger. “It’s mac and cheese.”

You shake your head. Wildly. Your neck hurts. “It’s the last box of mac and cheese!”

He glances at the box, then back at you. He jabs his thumb over his shoulder. “They might have some in the back—”

You shake your head again. A hint of devastation cracks your voice as you say, “It’s Monday night. Trader Joe’s restocks Tuesday night. This is usually all they have left.”

“I—” He pauses. “Is this shit really that good—”

“No, it’s not but that’s not the point!” you’re shouting again. And crying. Oh, God, you’re crying. In public. “The point is my building is going co-op!”

He tilts his head. “Your building is—”

“And I have to buy my apartment if I want to keep it! And they don’t give raises at my job to women unless they’re willing to suck something I won’t say in front of that kid right there,” you nod toward a little girl in a pink raincoat with her pin straight black hair in pigtails who stares at you in bewilderment. You sniffle. “So I quit. And I’m proud of myself for it. Because I have integrity, and I have self-respect, and I have no gag reflex, so the rejection should kill my boss dead.”

He cracks a small smile when you let out a short, watery, pathetic laugh. Easily, he holds the box out to you. “I hope your boss is dead, too.”

You laugh again and don’t hesitate before taking the box. You wipe your cheeks with your sleeve. “Thank you. You’re nice.”

“Not a popular opinion, but one I’ll certainly take.” He’s smiling and it’s warm. “Sorry— about all that.”

“You’re apologizing to me? I just screamed at you in the Trader Joe’s freezer aisle over mac and cheese.”

He shakes his head and picks up his own basket when you grab yours. “Your building’s going co-op and your boss deserves to burn in hell. You should get all the mac and cheese you want.”

You reach into the freezer for that green box of tortellini he’d thrown in, tossing it into his basket with a smile. Steph Curry at the NBA Finals. “Still. I’m sorry for yelling and I hope the tortellini doesn’t suck too bad.”

“It’s frozen pasta. My expectations are low.”

You hum a laugh and walk past him to the crowded lines at the registers. “As they should be.”

It’s when you’re lost in the sea of customers and Bucky is deciding between frozen palak paneer and frozen lamb vindaloo with basmati rice that he feels a tug at the hem of his jacket. 

He looks away from the green and orange boxes, lowering his gaze to meet curious almond-shaped eyes beneath blunt black bangs. He smiles and she returns it. “Yes?”

She reveals her right hand, which she had hidden behind her pink raincoat, and holds a phone up to Bucky as far as her arm will let her.

“Is that your phone?”

She shakes her head and giggles. Loud, happy, and squeaky. “Yelling lady dropped her phone.”

Bucky’s eyebrows knit together until a woman, much closer to his height, steps behind the little girl. She takes the phone the girl holds out and offers it to Bucky when he straightens his posture. Her smile looks like the little girl’s. “We figured you would have a good chance at getting it back to her.”

He takes the phone and nods his thanks. Pressing the power button reveals a picture of you and a dog, a large, fluffy dog with its pink tongue hanging low. You’re smiling brightly and, oddly, it seems like the dog is, too.

—

“So you just took her phone? Didn’t even ask an employee to keep it there in case she came back for it?”

Bucky, watching the tray of pasta rotate in the microwave, scowls. “I would’ve if I’d known that was an option. And stop eating my fuckin’ chips.”

Sam tosses back another handful of kettle-cooked barbecue potato chips in defiance so the obnoxious crunching echoes through the kitchen. He smiles sarcastically when Bucky snatches the bag and rolls it up. Half is already gone. “You come up with how you’re gonna get it back to her?”

“Thinkin’ about asking Pepper to post a picture of it like it’s a missing child to that ‘Tweeter’ nonsense,” Bucky replies dryly. He’s glaring at Sam as he leans his hip against the counter. “You and I both know I haven’t come up with shit.”

Sam snorts and is smiling in amusement, deep brown eyes alight. Bucky hates the sight. “Tweeter. You’re so fuckin’ old.”

It’s been hours since Bucky took the phone from who he learned is little Vivienne and her mother, and he is no closer to getting it back to you. 

He’d tried looking for you at the store but there were too many people for a Trader Joe’s that Yelp claimed was the least busy in New York for that to yield results. So he returned to the Tower. He thought about asking Tony to look into the doohickey but figured an invasion of privacy should be the last resort.

He pulls the tray from the microwave with nimble vibranium fingers and sniffs the pasta before setting it down on the counter. He removes a bowl from one of the cabinets and dumps the steaming pasta in it, a sprinkle of freshly grated parmesan from a tub he’d bought— also at Trader Joe’s— a finishing touch.

“She’s cute,” Sam says when the screen lights up with an incoming text notification.

Bucky spins his fork between his fingers as he walks around the counter to sit on the barstool beside Sam’s. He glances at the phone as well. “Very cute,” he agrees. “She had a shitty day. Something about her apartment goin’ co-op. Whatever the hell that means.”

Sam frowns. “Means she’s gotta buy the place. And with New York real estate prices right now,” he shakes his head with a sigh. “She better have a well-paying job.”

“Quit that today, too.” Bucky takes a bite of the pasta and hisses as it burns his tongue. “Boss is a creep that asked for some action in exchange for a raise.”

“Jesus. Poor girl.”

The tortellini isn’t great. It’s a little bland, a bit too dry, and there isn’t enough filling— but it’s better than Bucky had expected. He takes another bite. “Yeah. And I took the last box of mac and cheese. Which is what she went to the store for.”

“I’m surprised your head wasn’t chopped off.”

Bucky smiles. “She yelled— a lot. Was crying, too, ‘til she said something and made herself laugh.”

Sam then begins teasing Bucky juvenilely for having a crush until both men are laughing and shoving one another to see who falls off their stool first, Sam only relenting when Bucky hands the potato chips to him again as a peace offering.

The bowl is in the sink and the chips are down to just crumbs when a loud ringtone— an instrumental version of an R&B song Bucky recognizes from Sam’s many plays of the original— shocks the two of them.

It’s from an unknown number and Bucky is unsure if he should pick up until Sam swipes answer and puts the call on speakerphone. “Hello?”

A sigh. Bucky doesn’t know if it’s one of relief or frustration. “I’m hoping whoever this is found my phone and didn’t steal it.”  

Sam shoves Bucky’s shoulder with a toothy grin and Bucky rolls his eyes. “The little girl you almost traumatized in the freezer aisle found it and gave it to me.”

Another sigh— the relief in this one is obvious— and you’re laughing. “It’s you— tortellini dude. Must’ve fallen when I crouched down.”

“Seems like it, yeah.”

“So are you gonna ask for my address or do I have to schlep over to Avengers Tower?”

Bucky and Sam exchange a look. “Avengers Tower?”

“You weren’t exactly in disguise— I realized who you are the minute I left the store. Would’ve recognized you right away but I was in my own head and you aren’t my favorite Avenger.”

Bucky smiles. “Yeah? And who is?”

“Falcon.”

Immediately, the phone is taken from Bucky’s hand. “Hi, baby, you’ve got Falcon.”

A gasp, a pause, then you laugh. Audibly stunned laughter. “You guys actually hang out with each other? That’s cute.”

Before Sam can reply, Bucky flicks his forehead— in reply to which Sam elbows Bucky’s ribs— and takes the phone back. “I can bring your phone to you whenever you’re free.”

“Awesome. I’m unemployed now so any time tomorrow is fine.”

You tell him your address before hanging up and he wishes you a good night. Your laughter is the last thing he hears before three beeps signify the end of the call.

—

Bucky takes the subway. He switches lines to the F train. He tries not to mind the overpowering smell of stale B.O. and deli meat leftover from rush hour, the skittering steps of a rat across the floor in the adjacent empty car. He ignores those who stare at him intensely enough to burn the fabric right off his skin. All for that one apartment in SoHo.

He thinks the gash below his ribs might still be leaking as the warm, moist subway station air blows past him. He can feel that cluster of bruises above his knee— the one from the pipe the hostile operative had ripped off the rickety walls of a nearly destroyed Hydra base— every time he takes a step, more so as he climbs the stairs.

He knows he must be quite a sight with combat boots and tac pants worn and dusty, a simple bomber jacket thrown over a ripped, sliced, stained compression tank. His mind is blank, his eyes shadowy, the ghost of something terrible lurking behind blue and grey. 

Posture stiff and muscles cold, steps crisp despite the ache, he follows the familiar path and manages to form the thought of turning around. Not bringing this all to a threshold— or, more accurately, a windowsill— he’s only crossed three or four times. He’s too weak, though.

It takes one rap of his knuckles against the third-story window for a lamp to flicker on, gauzy drapes pushed aside. You smile as he lifts the window open, stepping aside as he enters the apartment with careful grace. He feels less guilty when he sees that your bed is still made and your hair isn’t the tangled mess it usually is when he bursts in at a late hour.

“I have a door.”

“Okay, show-off.”

It’s when he steps into the light of the standing lamp in the room’s corner that your quiet laughter gives way to a soft gasp. 

He doesn’t like the widening of your eyes or the way you gently lift the right side of his jacket, fingers light against the torn fabric. But you laugh again, and it shakes in nervousness. “You know I’m not a doctor, right? Or a nurse? Or even a pharmacist with high self-efficacy?”

He nods and, despite himself, there’s a smile pulling at a corner of his lips. His eyes brighten a little. “It’ll heal itself.”

“Confidence. I like that in a burglar.”

Before he can take a step further into your bedroom, you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and point at his feet. “Boots.”

He kicks them off with a sigh and a groan when the shifting of his knee sends a tremor up his leg. His jacket is tossed aside as well, and he catches the black t-shirt you throw to him. You’d washed it, folded it, and put it in your closet. 

Just a little more brightness. “You owe me mac and cheese.”

“Oh, I owe you mac and cheese? We’re really holding onto shit from four months ago?”

He nods again and pulls his tank off, withholding a wince.

Eyebrow raised, you cross your arms over your chest. You’re giving him a narrow look but, because you’re clearly struggling against a smile, it’s one of his favorites of the expressions you’ve ever offered him. 

You give him a towel next— pastel blue. “Shower and then we’ll see about me owing you something.”

He wants to say thank you, do more than smile. 

But he knows if he so much as opens his mouth while you’re looking at him the way you are, he’ll tell you he’s fallen in love with you over the last four months, that maybe he’s been in love since you screamed at him in the freezer section of Trade Joe’s. 

He’ll go to say thank you, but the words of a Byron poem he’d learned to impress a girl in his English class more than eighty years ago will come pouring out or he’ll simply kiss you like he wishes he could on the nights he can’t sleep or during the missions he can just barely endure. 

He’ll go to say thank you, and then tell you with no clarity whatsoever that you’re what he finds comfort in when he’s had a hard day. That the disgusting, mushy, nothing-compared-to-fresh mac and cheese is just an excuse.

But he just smiles. And nods. And takes a shower.

His hair is still wet as he stands across from you at the kitchen counter. There’s a bowl of steaming pasta between you, a spoon in his hand and a fork in yours. “You’re dripping onto the counter.”

With a cocking of his eyebrow, he shakes his head and you sputter a laugh, shoving his shoulder. “Bucky!”

He laughs then, fully and happily, as he reaches over to wipe the drops from your cheeks and forehead. You only smile back, the gleaming of your eyes making him feel warm all over.

“This shit’s terrible, by the way,” he says after a minute of staring.

You shrug a shoulder. “Told you.”

“And you fought me for it. Publicly.”

You shrug again and laugh. You lean your elbows atop the counter to match his relaxed posture, dragging a noodle through a particularly large puddle of melted cheese. 

Looking up, your nose nearly bumps Bucky’s and you hope he doesn’t hear your breath stall. You try to smile. “Makes me feel better when I need to fill that hole in my heart.”

“With cholesterol?” he jokes.

“Yes. It’s excellent. It’s like spackle.” As he laughs and you roll your eyes, you push off the counter to stand straight. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Yeah?”

You hum. “I’m seeing an apartment I want tomorrow and need the rent lowered. And you’re the Winter Soldier.”

He considers that for a moment and you burst into laughter just as his eyes narrow into a fond glare. “You want me to scare them into lowering the rent?”

“Don’t think of it as you scaring them,” you begin, rounding the counter to stand next to him, hip leant against the marble, “think of it as you being an amazing friend and helping me.” A moment later you add, “By scaring them.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. He glances at the bowl to avoid the risk of staring at you for too long. “Fine.”

You grin. “You really take no convincing.”

A snort and he meets your gaze. “Only when it comes to you. I’m afraid you’ll start crying again.”

“So I could ask you for anything and you’d probably say yes?”

He shrugs a bit, then nods. Who is he kidding? You could ask for his right arm and he’d give it to you.

“Okay. Go on a date with me then.”

There’s a pause— in the conversation, in his chest. “A what?”

“A date. It’s like dinner, or coffee, or a movie, or something.” You grin when he takes half a step in your direction and his hands grip onto the counter at either side of you. “It’s this thing people do when they like each other.”

Something much more than like is in the sparkling of your eyes and the tilt of your head. Something that might match exactly what’s in his eyes whenever he’s around you. His insides burn at the thought.

“I know what a date is.”

“They had those back in your day?”

He nods and leans forward. “Not from the Stone Ages.”

Your lips brush lightly against his, hand set on his chest to feel the rapid beating beneath. You smile and he thinks he might melt. “Could’ve fooled me with that hair.”

Laughing, he presses his lips to yours a little harder.

—

Apartment littered with unpacked boxes, misplaced books, and askew furniture, you sit on top of the counter where Bucky works. He’s twirling a knife through his metal fingers, arranging sprigs of chives on the cutting board with the flesh ones. 

He smiles when he catches you staring at the pan cooling on the stove. “S’not done yet.”

You sigh. Loudly, heavily. “You took it out of the oven. That means it’s done.”

“It needs to cool for a few minutes or you’ll burn off your taste buds. You want to burn off your taste buds?”

“You want to burn off your taste buds?” you repeat in a high-pitched, taunting voice. You’re scowling and, somehow, look to be on the verge of snatching the knife from him to stab it through his chest. “Maybe I do.”

Less than a minute later, you groan and add, “I don’t care how good you are in bed. I’m about ten seconds from dumping you.”

Swiftly, he chops the chives and turns around to sprinkle a bit into the baking dish. “You know, most people would say thank you.”

“Most people don’t have to wait an hour while their boyfriend attempts to make mac and cheese when there’s a perfectly good box in the freezer that would take four minutes.”

“It’s worth it.”

In all honesty, he doesn’t know if it’s worth it. 

He’d asked Sam for a recipe and did his best to follow it despite the autocorrect which had changed “gruyere” to “grape year.” But he trusts it since Sam generally knows what he’s doing in the kitchen. Unlike Steve who had continuously attempted to chime in with useless suggestions such as, “Maybe don’t add the paprika.”

“Just trust me,” he urges as if replying to the growling of your stomach which has interrupted his search for the plates he could’ve sworn he’d unpacked. He’s crouched and searching the lower cabinets as he adds, “You’ll fall in love with me after you try it.” 

“Who says I haven’t already?” 

He stops searching.

He peeks his head above the edge of the counter and, his eyes wide, he sees you pulling two plates from a box placed on the small nook table. Your smile is small and a bit sheepish— the latter something he’d never seen from you. 

“You never took them out,” you tell him, the clatter of ceramic on the wooden surface loud when you set the plates down. As you approach and he stands to his full height, you sigh and roll your eyes at the look he gives you. “Yes, I love you. It can’t be that shocking.”

“It isn’t.” 

“Someone should tell your face that.”

Chuckling over the heavy thumps in his chest, he leans forward to kiss you but pauses just to say, “I love you, too, by the way.” 

When an empty dish sits between the two of you, Bucky’s stomach warm and full of over three-quarters of it, you stand from the table and walk to the freezer. 

Shooting a smile over your shoulder, you grab the familiar red box and toss it into the stainless steel trash can. Steph Curry at the NBA Finals. “I’m never eating that shit again.”

#this reader is a human disaster #dkjfgdkjgj #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff

[ezrasarm]

Coming Out As Asexual/Aspec

Pairings: Javier Pena x reader, Marcus Pike x reader, Din Djarin x reader, Ezra x reader, Frankie Morales x reader

Word count: 2.3K (oops)

Warnings: discussions of sexuality, depictions of main characters as Aspec

A/n: I apologize these were meant to be head canons and a few of them wound up turning into mini fics. I would like to thank @dishonouringmycow for supplying many ideas and helping me concoct these for you and @kiss-evans for her insight as well. These were a lot of fun to write! We’ve written these HCs in hopes that they will be inclusive and relatable to most ace/demi-/greysexual folks and anyone in between. We hope you like them!

[masterlist]

Javier Peña

Telling Javi is a little tricky.

Given the time period, and the fact that asexuality was hardly a word let alone a widely accepted concept, Javier didn’t stand a chance when you went about explaining to him your “unconventional” relationship with sexual attraction.

You didn’t even fully understand it yourself at that point which is why you were terrified when you felt you owed him an explanation for turning him down.

You and Javi had been dancing around each other since pretty much the moment you landed in Bogata.

You knew you cared about him more than the average coworker and Steve didn’t hesitate to tease either of you mercilessly for it with every chance he got.

But there was a reason you had been avoiding acting on those feelings you harboured for him and a reason you were so terrified when he reciprocated them.

Silence overwhelms the small stakeout vehicle when you tell him.

He doesn’t get it.

“Oh.”

The disappointment that pours off of him is palpable.

This really wasn’t the reaction he was expecting to the heartfelt confession he had mustered up the courage for only moments ago.

“Javi,” You sigh, “It’s not like that. It’s not personal. I don’t feel attracted to anyone that way.” You reiterate but he still seems convinced that this is just an elaborate attempt to spare his feelings.

“You don’t have to do that, you know? You don’t have to let me down easy.”

“That’s not what this is. I really just don’t operate that way.”

You had seen the girls coming and going from his apartment across the hall. You knew how he chose to blow off steam after stressful days at work and you knew you couldn’t keep up with that.

“I don’t think I can be there for you like you want me to.”

It takes a moment for it to dawn on him what you mean and you think he finally takes the hint when another ‘oh’ escapes him.

“I don’t need-“ He starts up but cuts himself off when you give him a pointed look.

“I really, really wanted this to work.” He says after what feels like hours of you discussing all the reasons you would wind up resenting each other if you went down that path. All the fears you had of starting something up with him.

“Me too.” You hum solemnly when you deflate to lean into his side and rest your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

He’s quick to shake his head and whisper a quiet “Don’t apologize.” When he wraps an arm around you and places a kiss to the top of your head.

You both walk away from that stakeout with heavy hearts but lighter shoulders and although it takes some time to heal you learn to show how much you care about each other in different ways.

Now he slings an arm around your shoulders when you’re getting unwanted attention on a night out.

You stay up drinking with him so he doesn’t have to brood alone after a particularly tiring day.

Soft touches and reassuring words come easier between you two.

Most importantly you’re both happy and you haven’t lost each other.

Marcus Pike

Marcus is a little less clueless.

He knows Asexuality exists and has a vague sense of what it is, he just doesn’t know a whole lot about it.

There’s not much pressure when you tell him.

It comes as a bit of a disclaimer early in your relationship and you try not to make a big deal of it. You just want to make sure that he’s aware as your relationship progresses.

Marcus, ever the sweet and compassionate boyfriend is attentive and understanding as you speak.

The words that seem to stick out in his mind come at the only point when the slightest bit of doubt weens it’s way into your voice, “I just wanted to make sure that that’s- that I’m enough for you.”

His heart stops and he’s overcome by a feeling of both shock and sorrow that you could ever think such a thing of yourself.

“Of course. Of course, you’re enough.”

“You’re more than enough. You’re… you’re everything.”

What you don’t see is the way that after this conversation he finds himself wracking up more and more questions that he’s too scared to ask you. Not because he’s afraid of the answer but because he doesn’t want to overstep or make you uncomfortable.

So naturally, he turns to the next best thing.

The internet.

What he fails to realize is how broad a spectrum of asexuality there is and all he gets is more and more confused.

Marcus accidentally develops a following on Aspec Reddit forums for trying to ask people questions and them all just going “aww, Hun” at this poor clueless bean and swooning over how much he cares about you.

Despite the enthusiasm and volume of their responses, they don’t really add much clarity beyond “Hey, maybe you should ask your SO”

Instead, he runs around treating you like glass while he tries to buck up the courage to actually talk to you about it until on a movie night as he awkwardly tries to contort himself around you so he’s cuddling you… without touching you, you finally snap.

“Marcus! What is going on?”

That’s when he finally and rather sheepishly admits that he wants you to tell him more about your sexuality.

“Oh.”

You pause the movie and give him your full attention as you try and talk him through as much as you’re able to explain until suddenly you’re stuck for an answer and you look up at him with rather watery eyes as you admit you have no idea and suddenly you’re the one having the existential crisis.

“Oh, oh no. It’s alright, we can figure it out together! Shhh, it’s all fine. Please don’t cry! Reddit didn’t tell me this would happen!”

“Who-ddit?”

Din Djarin

Coming out to Din is rather anticlimactic.

He doesn’t have much to say beyond “Okay.”

You’re a little confused at first.

That went… too well.

It’s a while later when he brings it up again that you begin to realize why.

There’s no hesitation or taboo, he’s quite straight forward when he asks why you were so nervous.

At first, you’re not so sure what to say. Wasn’t that kind of obvious?

“Not everyone takes it so well.” You shrug thinking back to past relationships where your partners seemed to expect you to give them more than you were willing to.

You could practically see the gears turning behind his visor and it’s only now that you connect the dots and his reaction from before seems to add up.

To him, that was the norm.

It makes sense the more you think about it.

In all the time you had spent travelling with him, all the objectively beautiful women, men and everyone else in between that had crossed your paths, all the slurs that had been thrown at him by drunkards in cantinas about how he fucks with all that armour on, all the rather compromising situations you had found yourself in with him before and you had never caught his gaze wander or heard him express any indication of interest in yourself or anyone in that way.

You had always put it down to his creed. As far as you were aware such things were forbidden for people of his faith but you’re left with an odd sense of comfort as you realized that wasn’t the case.

Perhaps this was his strange little way of letting you know you weren’t alone.

Ezra

When you met Ezra you were prepared for the worst.

A guy as cocky and loquacious as him and you just trying to keep your head down in the busy bar and enjoy your drink in peace after a rough day.

You didn’t have high hopes when he swung into the booth across from you and started down whatever elaborate story he had decided would impress you enough to get you into bed.

“It’s my missing appendage, isn’t it?” he asks when you quite clearly don’t bite.

He’s already moving to leave you be when your eyebrows knit together in confusion and your eyes blow wide as you’re hit with a sudden wave of guilt.

You had grown used to deflecting advances like this but something about the way he said it, the bold, charismatic man suddenly looking like a kicked puppy made your guts churn.

You didn’t normally give an explanation, you didn’t feel you owed anyone that, especially not a stranger and yet here you were.

“What? No! No, I actually think you’re very good looking and charming and all those things people look for in a partner, I’m just not particularly one for casual hookups.” You say looking around the room where you now felt wildly out of place with just about all of its inhabitants presumably looking to get laid or trying to forget someone they couldn’t do so with.

“...Or any hookups really.” You correct yourself and watch as the disappointed look on his face morphs into a glint of curiosity.

“You a uh- a spade?” He asks resettling into the booth, an oblivious smile settling on his cheeks when you laugh at him.

You spend until last-call deeply enthralled in conversation and comforted by one another’s company.

That’s all either of you were here for in the first place, to feel a little less lonely.

You’re only pried apart by the closing of the bar, the nag of sleep hot on your heels and the promise that this wouldn’t be the last you saw of each other.

Frankie Morales

Frankie knew you were asexual.

You had told him before, he just didn’t entirely understand what that meant until much later on.

He seemed familiar with the term but his knowledge of the concept didn’t seem to extend beyond a basic definition.

Frankie’s first wife was his first for a lot of things. First girlfriend, first kiss, first love, first lover, first breakup.

He took the divorce pretty hard, as anyone would.

They’d gotten married so young, before he was deployed, that the guys had never seen him single before and neither had he really.

It took a long time for him to recover and by then he was content. ‘not in a particularly big rush to start down the relationship path and get hurt again’ is how he had phrased it to you once in confidence.

But another factor that he failed to recognize fully at the time was that he just hadn’t found anyone he was interested in in that way.

He’d tried going on a couple of dates but none of them clicked and it just left him feeling more alone.

It was after Tom died, almost five years after his divorce that the guys finally called him on it.

At first they just assumed the way he had been acting was about Tom and in a sense it was, Tom was the only one who had been through a divorce before, he was the only one who really understood and talked him through it when the going got tough.

Will was the one to put the pieces together and realize that the issue wasn’t Tom so much as Frankie getting more and more tired of being on his own.

His intentions were well meaning. They were just trying to help.

All they wanted was to see him happy but the more the boys seemed to try and set him up, the more resistance they were met with and even Frankie couldn’t figure out why until he was sat, venting to you about it one night.

“How did you know you were ace?” He blurts out suddenly and you’re a little lost for words, you weren’t really expecting this conversation to go this way but it was obviously something he had been considering for a while.

“Sorry that wasn’t a fair question,” He says when he notices you’re struggling, “I just- they keep trying to set me up with, who I’m sure are some really great people, but it’s all on this little tiny screen and all you see are a couple photos and maybe a blurb if you’re lucky and there’s just no…”

“Connection?” You suggest. Those big puppy eyes shoot up to you from where they were fixed on the counter in front of him and he gives you a slight nod.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He sighs and your heart breaks a little looking at him like that before you round the counter and pull him into a hug. “I’ve felt attraction before but I look at the guys and it feels like it takes so much more for me to get to that point than them.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” You assure him gently, brushing your fingers through his hair when you pull away to give him a reassuring smile. “Sounds like you could be on the asexuality spectrum.”

“There’s a spectrum?”

[masterlist]

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[dirty-urie]

Jam Sesh

Second Person

Brendon x Female Reader

PFTW Era

Smut Oneshot

NC-17

3.3k Words

Warnings in order of appearance: real person fic, alcohol, slight insecurity, fingering, some dirty talk, penetrative sex

Author's Notes:

This is... not my best work. I don't really like anything about it, but instead of wasting any more of my time on it, I'm just publishing it and hoping that my dislike for it is just me being self-critical and not because it's a really bad fic. Normally I'm all for hyping yourself up, but meh, I'm just not feeling this one, and that's okay because it's my blog and I can do whatever I want. Hope you like it though lmao

He answers the studio door and pulls you in for a hug, which is a little awkward with the guitar on your back, but you make it work. "Y/N!" He exclaims happily.

You're a little surprised that he answered the door and didn't accidentally get caught up in his work. It's not like Brendon would purposefully stand you up; he's just a little bit of a mess sometimes. But he looks happy to see you, and that's all that matters. He motions you inside, and you follow him, collapsing on the couch next to his desk.

"Beer me, Brendon!" You request, and he does, grabbing a beer from the mini-fridge in the corner of the studio and handing you the tall silver can. You wrinkle your nose. "How successful does the band have to get for you to stop buying Coors light?"

"Hey! I like Coors light," he defends, grabbing yours and replacing it with a pretentious-looking IPA. "There you go, a fancy beer because you're my guest."

"Thank you. I'm sure it'll still taste like stale piss, but now it'll taste like fancy stale piss." You joke, taking your guitar out of its case.

He laughs and takes a sip of the beer he stole from you. "Oh shit, is that new?" He gestures to your guitar. "I haven't seen it before."

"New to me. I found it at a thrift shop for 20 bucks, but it barely looks used and look, it's a fender," you say, handing him the guitar.

"Woah, Y/N, this is a find," he says, playing a few chords.

You take your guitar back and start messing around on it yourself. Brendon makes his way over to the drums and starts playing along with you. You try not to ogle or anything, but he looks fucking good giving his all to the instrument. Almost makes you wonder how he'd be in bed... intense, totally in-control. Shit, you need to stop letting your mind wander; you're just as bad as the throngs of thirsty fans. Plus, you came here to play guitar with one of the most talented musicians you know, you shouldn't let your hormones get the better of you.

After a while, you start getting hot in the stuffy studio and stand up to take your jacket and shirt off, leaving you in a white tank top. That helps for a bit, but the heat is still getting to you. "Hey, B, I'm getting hot in here. Do you mind if we go outside?"

Ever since you took your jacket off, he's been laser-focused on the drum-kit, so you're not sure he hears you at first.

"B?" You repeat.

He stops his drumming but doesn't stand up. "Oh yeah, no problem, let me just tidy up the studio a bit. Can you bring the guitars out?"

"Yeah, sure," you step out of the studio with the guitar you brought and one of his acoustic ones, but when you step out of the studio, you notice dark clouds coming towards the house.

"I think it could rain; we probably should leave the instruments inside, just in case," you tell him, walking back into the studio and leaving the guitars on the couch. You notice that he's still sitting behind the drums, his head in his hands. "Hey, Brendon, you feeling okay?"

He waves you off with a laugh, still not really looking at you. "Yeah, yeah, I'm great. Just a little headache; I'm probably dehydrated. I'll bring out some waters with the next round of beers."

"Okay, if you say you're fine, I'll wait for you outside," you say suspiciously, leaving the studio.

You settle into the outdoor sitting area, kicking your feet up on the coffee table. Brendon comes out with two more beers and two water bottles, still looking a bit distressed.

"Sorry, I cut our jam session short," you apologize, as he sits in the chair across from you and crosses his legs.

"What? Are you kidding me? We were at it for hours," you swear he blushes after he says that, but he's probably flushed from drumming, "and even if it was cut off, I just wanna hang out with you, no matter what we're doing."

"Aww, I'm so glad we're friends. Ooo, and now that we have time to talk, you can tell me all about that tour story that you didn't want to write out in an email."

You two exchange stories for another half hour, but Brendon still looks pink even after he hasn't been drumming for a while now.

"Hey, you still look really hot. You wanna jump in the pool? I don't have a swimsuit, but I could just wear my tank top and panties and then change back into my t-shirt and shorts after," You suggest. He looks a little panicked if you interpret correctly, but you're not sure why. And he's getting redder but the second. "Brendon, you look really flushed; you should cool off."

He laughs, but you don't get the joke. "I actually think I should get into the air-conditioning, we could watch a movie? Plus, those dark clouds are getting awfully close. We'll get rained-on as soon as we hit the water." Sure enough, as soon as he says that, the sky opens up, and it starts pouring. You both dash through the rain to the house. He unlocks the door, and you both go inside, laughing.

Your top is positively soaked through, and you're shivering in the cold house. "You mind if I shower real fast? I don't want to catch a chill."

Brendon is looking at something behind your head, not meeting your eyes. "Well, um, you could, um, shower here. But wouldn't you rather be all comfy at home?"

"Would I rather drive through LA traffic in the rain in wet clothes than take a warm shower in your mansion? No. I'm gonna shower." You turn around, walking into his bedroom and then deeper into the en-suite bathroom. His shower is large and fancy, and you almost don't want to get out once you're sufficiently warm. You do though, it is a drought, after all. You wrap yourself in a fluffy towel and then rummage around his bedroom for dry clothes. He clearly needs to do laundry because his drawers are sparse, and his hamper is overflowing. Still, you manage to find a long t-shirt and a pair of his boxers to wear underneath.

Brendon walks in and freezes when he sees you. "Are you," he trails off, takes a deep breath, and then starts again, "are you wearing my underwear?" He eyes the black briefs you stole that are peeking out from under the t-shirt you also stole from him.

"Yeah," you say dismissively, putting your wet clothes in your purse.

"Y/N," he says exasperatedly.

"Mm? Something wrong?"

"Something wrong? Y/N, you're wearing my underwear!"

"So?"

"So my dick has been in them!"

You turn to look at him, rolling your eyes. "Your dick has been in your hands, too, but it's not a big deal because, like your underwear, I presume you wash them." He gives you a look that tells you he's not convinced. "Plus, you loaned me sweatpants after I ripped my shorts a couple of weeks ago, and are you honestly telling me your dick has never been in those?"

"That's different!"

"It is not." He gives you another exasperated look. "Okay, if it's that big of a deal, then I'll take them off, geez," you relent, tugging on the bottom of the underwear.

"Ahh!" He exclaims, turning his head, shielding his eyes, and waving his other arm in your general direction as if to ward you off. "Let's all keep our clothes on."

"What is wrong with you? Why are you being so squirrely? Does my gross body really freak you out that much?" You accuse.

His eyes widen. "Shit, no, I love your gross body, fuck, I mean, I love your perfectly normal body," he stutters while you stare in silence.

"You've made your point," you say, not bothering to hide the offense in your voice. You grab your bag and storm out of his bedroom.

"Y/N, wait," he calls.

You stop and whip around to face him, "You've been weird around me all day, Brendon! When I took my jacket off in the studio, your eyes were glued to your drums! When I said we should swim, you offered to watch a fucking movie instead! When my shirt was soaked through, you looked right past me at the wall! When I asked to shower in your house, you nearly kicked me out! And now you're having fucking conniptions over your underwear!" You shout. "Brendon, I know, believe me, I know, that I don't look like your other LA friends. That I'm not model-skinny or anything, but god, you could put some effort into not making me feel like a freak."

Brendon furrows his brows. "Y/N, of course, I don't think you're a freak."

"Oh really? Because Nicole has been buck-naked right in front of you, and you didn't bat an eye, but apparently, the sight of my arms without a jacket is so disgusting that you can't look at me." Tears are streaming down your face now.

His face falls, and he rushes towards you, "Y/N, sweet girl, oh my god, no, no, that's not it at all. I," his voice trembles, "like you," he says quietly.

You scrunch your face in confusion. "Brendon, of course, you like me; we're friends, but that doesn't make any of your behavior today acceptable."

"Are you really going to make me spell it out?" he asks. "I am attracted to you. Very attracted to you. And this whole day, I've just been trying not to get aroused by the sight of you because that's gross and objectifying and disrespectful, so I've been staring at the ground and thinking about Margaret Thatcher naked so I didn't have to go jerk off in the studio bathroom," he confesses.

"Oh."

"And now I've made things awkward," he rubs the back of his neck. "So, um, see you later, you can keep my clothes. I won't need them back. Probably do something creepy with them once you gave them back anyway. Er, that was a joke. I should shut up."

Your offense and then confusion morph into understanding and then shock and delight. "Yeah, you fucking doofus," you laugh. "You absolutely should shut up."

You take two steps forward, closing the gap between the two of you, and grab his chin. You lean in, and your lips meet his without any reservation. He kisses back, unsure. Then, you take more initiative, looping your arm around his back and pulling him against you.

Brendon stays tentative but enthusiastic, letting you take the lead. "Fuck. Margaret Thatcher naked, Margaret Thatcher naked," he chants against your lips.

"How's that distraction working out for you?" You ask knowingly, pressing your hips against his.

His cheeks warm, and must be blushing. "I think you can feel as well I do that it's working out poorly." He's trying to make a joke, but he's right. You can feel him hardening against you as you kiss. You finally remove your lips from his but keep yourself pressed against him. He turns his face away, blushing like you suspected, and grinning from ear-to-ear.

You run your hand down the side of his face. "For what it's worth, I'm very attracted to you too, if you didn't pick up on that already. Probably why I was so upset," you say softly, "I can leave if you want to be responsible and take this slow," you offer. "Or," you trace the hand from his face down his neck to his chest, "you could take me back to your bedroom and apologize for hurting my feelings." You fake a pout.

Brendon's eyes darken, and he grabs your hand to practically drag you into his bedroom. He slams the door behind you, pinning you against it. "Is this okay?"

"More than okay," you breathe out, and he kisses you hard. You reciprocate, not caring how sloppy and desperate you feel with your probing tongues and clashing teeth. He parts to breathe and then buries his face in your neck, nipping and kissing. You tremble, grateful for the door behind you, so you don't collapse. One of his hands is above your head, supporting himself against the door, and the other is on your hip. He plays with the waistband of the briefs you're wearing, a silent plea for permission.

"Touch me," you beg, and he doesn't feign any confusion, just slips his hand under the fabric and strokes your swollen clit with his index finger. You moan, trying to ask for more, but your vocal cords aren't working. He seems to understand, though, because he moves his hand back to gently slide his middle and ring finger inside you. Instead of thrusting them like you expect, he curls them and rubs against your g-spot. At the same time, he's still stroking your clit, now with his thumb, and kissing you. His coordination is crazy good, but it makes sense with all the instruments he plays. Your core is starting to feel warm and buzzy, and you're only half-shocked that he's coaxing an orgasm from you so soon. You don't know how you're still standing; your knees are weak, and your brain feels like it's filled with a static of lust and pleasure.

Brendon feels you tightening around his fingers and speeds up ever-so-slightly. The small part of you that's still lucid feels his dick, hard and pressing against you where your bodies meet. He isn't rutting or grinding against you, just keeping you pinned against the wall with his hips, and somehow the self-control is even hotter. He presses harder on your clit, and that does it. Your orgasm explodes through you, soaking the underwear you're wearing. Your legs turn to jelly, and you slump forward onto Brendon, who supports your dead weight easily. "That's it, come for me," he coaxes softly. You bury your face into him, feeling blissed-out and overstimulated all at once, unable to do anything but ride it out.

"Y/N, darling, can you move over to the bed with me?"

You nod, letting him support you as you take small steps to his bed in the middle of the room.

"Good girl. Can't believe this is really happening; I can't believe I get to touch you. Dreamed about you for so long," he marvels.

You crawl into his bed, settling back onto your knees. "Dreamed about you too," you admit. "God, can I take my shirt off, Brendon?"

"Pretty sure that's my shirt, actually."

You giggle. "Well then, can I take your shirt off?" You wink, regaining your composure.

He laughs. "Yes, please. In both senses, take my clothes off."

You pull off the t-shirt you're wearing and throw it on the ground, exposing your stomach and breasts to his hungry eyes. His chest rises and falls quickly as he soaks you in silently, trying to get control of himself. "I like looking at you in my underwear." His voice is gravelly.

"Well, wouldn't you rather look at me without your underwear?" you offer.

He swallows and nods. You strip completely. You know your cunt is shiny with your juices, and you're pretty sure that's what's caught his attention. Brendon takes his shirt off, and now it's your turn to stare. He unbuckles his belt and unzips his jeans before taking them and his underwear off. His leaking cock settles against his stomach. He approaches the bed and gets in next to you, rolling on his side to face you.

"Fuck me," you moan, grasping his erection and stroking.

Brendon lets out a choked sound and gropes around the nightstand for a condom. He grabs one and hands it to you to roll on him. You spread your legs in expectation, and he takes the cue to enter you. He slides in easily with how wet and ready you are for him. You don't wait for him to start thrusting; you're too impatient. Instead, you rock your hips up to meet him. He hisses, not expecting the motion, and tenses his entire body to stay in control. It feels like it takes him forever, but eventually, he starts moving, slowly dragging his cock up and down. You squeeze your legs together to better feel him, and he hisses before his thrusts quicken, already working desperately towards release.

You can practically feel the veins running across him. "You're so much thicker than I would've guessed. Fill me up so nicely," you tell him. He throbs at your words, and you suspect the praise is turning him on even more, so when his hips snap forward perfectly into your g-spot, you praise him again. "So good, B, keep this angle, please." Your suspicions are mostly confirmed when he moans, and his thrusts falter a bit as a wave of pleasure washes over him. His hand moves to stroke your nipple while he supports himself with his other arm to avoid crushing you. You move your hand between your bodies to touch your clit, but instead, decide to form your fingers in a V and feel him moving between them instead. He hisses at the new sensation, and you love affecting him with your touch.

You finally do move your other hand to rub your clit, fast and hard. There are so many different pleasure points being activated on your body that you don't know what to focus on, so you don't focus on any; just let all the feelings meld into one as you lay back and mostly let Brendon do all the work. And god is he working hard; his muscles are tense and shiny with exertion, his head is thrown back with an expression of sheer bliss on his face, and his thrusts are unrelenting. Not to mention the hand still fondling your breast. He's gorgeous, too caught up in fucking you to muster any speech. You'd feel bad that he's putting so much effort in while you just get to lie back, touch yourself, and meet his thrusts when you can if he didn't seem so deeply gratified himself. Not only is the friction around his cock divine, but he also loves getting to pleasure you. Seeing your mouth fall open, unable to keep moans from escaping. The sex is messy and unrefined, neither of you quite knowing how to drive the other crazy yet, but pulling out every trick you can think of. You feel like a gamer smashing all the buttons to see what will work.

Despite the usual LA climate, the rain outside is pouring harder, and it's adding to the intensity and frenzy you both feel. "Shit, I'm close to coming," he groans.

"Hang on for me a little longer, Brendon, please. Just five more minutes," you plead. Admittedly, you could come too, but you only get one first time with Brendon, and you don't want it to end. He cranes his neck to suck behind your ear, clearly trying to get you to come faster.

"No fair, you already came," he complains, moving your hands out of the way to rub your clit himself. You use your free hands to play with your nipples, now rock hard from the constant stimulation.

"Shit, okay, come," you allow. As you say it, the first clap of thunder booms through the house. He sighs in relief, kissing you deeply as he lets himself go, getting lost in euphoria. You love feeling his hot come gather in the condom, and it triggers your own orgasm. You shriek as your second orgasm of the day is more intense than the first, and you're pretty sure you soak his bedspread just like you soaked his underwear.

He pulls out quickly and tosses the condom before snuggling up against you. "Guess your weird, gross body is good for something after all," he mumbles against your neck, already falling asleep.

"Hm, if only we could find a good use for yours," you retort, wrapping yourself around him.

#brendon urie smut #brendon urie fanfiction #my work

[still-a-morosexual-help]

OBEY ME! LESSON 46 DETAILED SUMMARY + THEORIES

This lesson’s got two locked chapters that I can’t unlock :’)

D takes them to the casino where they meet Mammon in the Lamp event outfit. When he laughs and tells them that they must have forgotten who he is if they think they can take the money MC ignores all of this to ask him wtf he’s wearing. Mammon blushes and tells them that they have no right to criticize what he’s wearing considering what they’re wearing. Then he says also Lucifer wtf happened to you!? He laughs and teases Lucifer about getting shrunk and how he could accidentally step on him and kill him rn or how Beel might eat him as a snack. I saw someone say that Mammon was a little shit who was also BabyTM and like Yess!??? I love when we get to see more of the asshole side of him specially when we already know how soft he is. Man’s an onion :’) Beel says he wouldn’t do that unless Lucifer hid inside a piece of cake and Beel swallowed him whole without realising. Lucifer, off screen: “You’d better realise I was there!” And Like??? That’s the point Lucifer wants to argue? Not the fact that he wouldn’t hide inside a cake? Mammon says whatever and that he’ll take Lucifer from them so he can have fun with his new toy anyway RIP to Mammon who dies after this lesson. “Mammon, Avatar of Greed, Appears”- gonna have Pokemon Battles from now on, I can’t believe this what this dating sim has evolved into :D Mammon uses wind to lift Lucifer up and bring him towards him. MC has a flashback to the previous night and commands Beel who transforms into a demon and whose body starts moving on its own, Beel then cancels out Mammon’s spell and uses a wind spell to send Mammon flying. Beel transforms back to his human form and is shocked by what happened. Solomon says MC did a good job commanding Beel though they weren’t able to draw out all his powers. They get the armour, which Beel thinks is too flashy but MC tells him it looks great which he is happy about. D tells them about a rumour of Satan attacking a town up north.

As they walk through the woods Lucifer talks about how much he’s gonna love beating the shit outta Mammon when he’s back to normal and waves MC off when they ask him to go easy on Mammon. Beel says that Lucifer used to be a lot nicer to Mammon in the celestial realm and how the two of them would team up to go argue with Raphael. Solomon asks if it was Diavolo who got Lucifer to change and what exactly Lucifer had to do to reach the status they now enjoy in the Devildom. Beel seems shocked at this and ask Lucifer if it’s true. He says he doesn’t remember. There’s growling & they’re suddenly surrounded by ghosts. Solomon: Oh yeah lol this is called the Black Phantom Forest. Everyone else: WHY the FUCK didn’t you say so before!? They run from the ghosts and set up camp beside a lake, MC & Beel talk. Beel says how they’ve all changed from their time in the Celestial Realm and he can’t remember when he stopped resisting the urge to constantly eat. But how somethings are still the same and how the brothers have always been together and how they always will be. He brings up the three things the butcher said to maintain a long relationship and how even though they may sometimes falter at the “respect each other” part when it comes down to it the brothers have all three things with each other (Not me sobbing like a baby. It’s the found family trope for me guys). Beel says how he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to fight Belphie if they meet him in the game and how he has so many people who he loves that he doesn’t know who to put first and that he knows many people would kill to have that kinda problem and that as both an angel and a demon he’s being lucky to have the people he loves. MC gets to hold his hand, lean on his shoulder or say nothing and guys I love Beel so much he’s just so pure god. Okay so theory part: I 100% believe (& it’s implied in canon and in the chats too) and the main reason Lucifer is so mean to Mammon now is because he’s scared if he doesn’t discipline him then Diavolo will and he’ll end up with another Lilith situation. That being said I NEED to know how Lucifer came across Mammon in the celestial realm and what he said to make Mammon so loyal to him. PLS om! Give me the boys backstory? I like to think Lucifer raised Mammon the same way Simeon is raising Luke and that’s why you can see some of Lucifer’s traits in Mammon whenever he becomes serious about something and why Mammon sometimes slips up and calls Lucifer “Dad” and why Lucifer becomes so happy about it. I also think the others would have been older than Mammon was when he first met Lucifer, when they eventually joined the family which is why they share far less traits with Lucifer and why (as far as we know) none of them have called Lucifer ‘dad”. If this is true it also brings up a real interesting dynamic between Satan and Mammon that would be useful when writing fics. You know a little deeply buried resentment and envy about Lucifer having been more of a father figure to Mammon than to the person who is technically his actual son, and since we know for a fact that right after arriving in the Devildom Lucifer starts going through an existential crisis and Mammon’s the one who steps up to look after the others I 100% believe Mammon’s the one who did most of the work in raising a newly created Satan and who taught him how to control his anger so well (cause lets be real it definitely couldn’t be any of the others) which also gives backstory to Satan’s “do you think Mammon’s actually the most decent of us” homescreen comment and more importantly adds spice to the relationship dynamic you can work with in fics.

When they wake up Beel is thankful that they didn’t get eaten. Solomon: not like you would have noticed with all the fun you had *wink wink* Lucifer: wtf Solomon:*WINK WINK* Me: bro they were just talking…  they find out game time and real world time pass differently and come across a treasure chest in the middle of their path. Solomon: Lets open it! :D Lucifer: Expect that’s definitely a trap… Solomon: Exactly! Which is why we should open it! :D MC: Lets open it! :D Lucifer: Why is the entire human species so fucking stupid!? Why were you created without any self preservation!? Who approved this!?  They find medicine, a warding bottle and cat ears. …They put Lucifer into the bottle and Lucifer’s really going through it in this huh. But opening the chest pulls up an inescapable battle with the final boss, and Satan pops up fully immersed in the villain role with an evil laugh and everything. Luci asks MC to use something from the chest and they use the cat ears and Lucifer’s disappointed when they actually work. But it only deals 222 damage to Satan’s 870k HP. Satan paralyses them all and steals bottled lucifer and calls Belphie to finish the others off. I can’t remember if I mentioned this before but how did the brothers know that Lucifer was gonna be mini before they even got home, it would’ve had to be quite a bit in advance for them to so perfectly set up everything… And you know Solomon was really determined to open that chest (I mean so was MC but the whole of season 1 was establishing that their curiosity was gonna get them killed) so…

MC tells Belphie they don’t want to fight him and Belphie says he doesn’t want to fight either but at the same time Satan agreed to give him mine lucifer for a whole day if he defeats them. Beel’s still reluctant and Belphie says Beel doesn’t have to worry cause Belphie isn’t the same small/weak person that Beel always had to protect (and holy shit I need more info on this too?). Beel eventually agrees and says that Belphie’s strong, he tells MC that they weren’t able to use his entire power against Mammon cause he was holding himself back unconsciously but that he was ready now. MC makes Beel do a bunch of wind attacks and they defeat Belphie who’s impressed. Beel says that the magic was actually MC doing it not him (even though he was the one that executed it). Belphie says he’ll join their party if MC promises him that he’ll be allowed to poke at mini luci. MC tells him there’s a damned line and he’ll have to wait his turn. Solomon wonders if MC should be going around giving the right to annoy lucifer to others but also he wants that right too. Even though Lucifer was kidnapped since he’s still in the bottle he’ll be protected so MC’s test is still ongoing. Odd that there was a bottle that would protect Lucifer should he get kidnapped in the chest that was a trap… look we all know Solomon is shady enough that he’s probably behind this right?

During dinner at a tavern the twins are sickeningly soft with each other and Solomon watches them with a smile. For the night the twins end up sharing a room with each other, with Mc and Solomon alone together. In the middle of the night MC wakes up to Solomon still up and looking sad. They ask him what’s up. He says despite how much they walked he still isn’t tired and that seeing the twins together made him lonely. Seeing how much they love and care and understand each other and how they were always together made him wish he had something similar but how when you didn’t age it was difficult to from lasting bonds like that in the human world. MC tells him that all of them care about him and he says he hopes so. Solomon: Lol just the two of us in a room in a game, wouldn’t it be crazy if we made out? MC can either kiss him or kinda stare awkwardly. If they choose the second he apologises for suddenly putting them on the spot and says he won’t try anything else. So this might be kinda an unpopular opinion and I’m genuinely really happy that the side characters are getting more screen time and development because I desperately needed that but I’m not really onboard the romancing option with them? I’m happy they’ve got their own cards now and I love the devilgram stories and romance options in them but I don’t think it makes sense in the context of the main storyline? Barbatos has almost no interaction with MC and though they haven’t shown it yet it’d be weird if he was suddenly into MC. Diavolo spent 2 whole seasons simping over Lucifer why is MC suddenly an option? Besides Diavolo always seems so lonely and I really want him and MC to be really good friends, I want Diavolo to have a friendship where there isn’t some condition that hangs over it like there is with his relationship with Barbatos and Lucifer. The same goes with Solomon. I just want him to have a good solid friendship where there isn’t expectations or power between them. He also initially only seems interested in MC for their power and as a way to train them and eventually genuinely softens up to them, Just the request to kiss seemed outta nowhere? I don’t know why but with Simeon he seems above crushes? I always imagine him seeing MC as another cute kid Lucifer picked up (despite MC being an adult) and having a sort of soft indulgent attitude towards them. I don’t know I think I just want MC to have some friends who aren’t trying to sleep with them.

Solomon is extremely chipper the next morning and Belphie grumpily makes a comment about him having fun and sdfjdvnsjdokd they just talked. Belphie uses his magic to teleport them to Satan’s castle and Beel asked why he couldn’t do that the previous night, Belphie says grumpily cause then Solomon would have missed out on the fun and Solomon agrees and THEY JUST TALKED!? Satan has managed to transform Lucifer into wolf Lucifer and is shaking his bottle hard enough to make Luci wanna puke while Lucifer asks him to stop. MC tells satan to stop and he tells them they won’t be able to defeat him cause they skipped right to the boss battle without taking the long route and levelling up. MC says they’re not gonna fight him cause this whole thing is fucking stupid. Satan says it’s not cause he’s having fun. MC gives him one of their free therapy sessions about how important the bonds between he and his brothers are and how they don’t care more about helping the brothers all get along than some stupid star. Beel comes out spitting facts, saying they all know that Satan actually cares about Lucifer and how that embarrasses him and how he needs to stop hiding it by lashing out. And how Lucifer needs to get his shit together and be honest with satan. That he needs to tell Satan that Lucifer knows he’s his own demon and a really good demon at that. Lucifer says FYI but I never said you weren’t your own great person and Satan blushes and says that unless he wants to look childish he has no option but to accept the olive branch. He tosses Luci to MC. Belphie complains about having stupid older brothers and Solomon says he’s disappointed in Satan and reveals himself as the true secret final boss and FUCK YEAH! I CALLED THAT SHIT! Kinda – I thought he might have just given them a heads up about Luci’s condition. On a different note, Satan needs serious therapy. They all do tbh.

Solomon congratulates MC on what they’ve done so far but says they still haven’t accessed Beel’s full potential and that he’ll give his ‘adorable apprentice’ one more shit at it. Solomon summons Asmo who complains about how long he was made to wait and how he nearly gave up and went to the spa and that no one likes a selfish man. Solomon tells Asmo that he can tell him all this after they get back to the real world and I genuinely want the backstory of how they met and just more about their relationship. At Solomon’s command Asmo uses charm and paralyses Beel and at MC’s Beel uses another wind attack. Asmo says he’s never seen beel do something of this calibre before and he seems more powerful, even more than he was in the celestial realm, Asmo yells at Solomon for just standing and seeming impressed instead of helping him. There’s a bright white light.

Back home with everything back to normal Beel, Lucifer and MC are hanging out by the pool. Lucifer is in an unexpectedly good mood and MC has earned a star, which glows slightly from its place on the symbol etched to the back of their hand. Inside Solomon is feeding the other brothers as punishment. Mammon is sobbing his heart out and Levi is out cold (possibly dead). Satan is given Levi’s remaining share of food and Asmo is in tears. Belphie had made a run for it the second they got home and is nowhere to be found. Solomon talks about how nice Lucifer actually is and how he really loves his brothers cause he just made Solomon make them dinner instead of punishing any of them…. Love that the canonical reason why none of these demons tell Solomon about his food and allow themselves to get tortured is cause they don’t wanna be rude and hurt his feelings. And he thought no one cared about him. If that isn’t love I dunno what is. Beel and MC take a walk while Lucifer sits by the pool and in his words basks in “their screams of agony” While blushing beel says he’s grateful for what happened and how that star is proof that they got closer. Mc can either thank him or say that the star belongs to him. I think they kiss after the second option? For the first Beel says MC’s the one who did the work of drawing out his power. Over the echoing screams from inside Beel asks if they feel like they forgot something and ndfjkfjkdjfefjkn THEY FORGOT DIAVOLO I’M!!!!???? poor baby

#my posts #my theories #obey me spoilers #obey me! #obey me #swd obey me #shall we date? obey me! #obey me shall we date

[leelysian]

Chan as your older brother AU 💖✨

word count: 1.4k

genre: fluffiest of all fluffs, you’ll rot your teeth, bullet point fic

warnings: swearing

Disclaimer: I do not personally know Chan. This work is purely fiction and my own idea. I took inspiration from his on screen persona. Please do not translate or re-upload my work.

☆ Let’s start with you two as babies. 

☆  Chan probably LOVED the idea of having a younger sibling he probably crawled to his mum with her baby bump and he'd softly talk to you "please come out quickly baby 🥺"

☆ Then he’d get impatient and ask “is it time yet?” Then he’d start whining and pouting “How much looonger? Baby is so sloooow”

☆ “is it gonna be a boy or a girl?” he wasn’t particular about the gender as long as he gets a playmate 

☆ Probably helped your parents pick your name even

☆ He was just THAT much invested in helping mummy raise the baby and in return he gets to play kill me I might just start crying just by THINKING about it asdfghjkl

☆ When he heard the baby is here, the Flash had nothing on Bang Christopher Chan as he literally ZOOMED through the corridors of the hospital to where his mum was staying to jump up on the bed. 

☆ There’s at least 10 different photos of Chan holding you on the hospital bed as soon as you were born. #cutie

☆ When your mum was discharged and everyone came home, he would cuddle you and just WOULD NOT LET GO

☆ And he'd sing lullabies to you

☆ He would speak in ᵗᶦⁿʸ and just talk ˢᵒᶠᵗˡʸ around you so he wouldn’t frighten you

☆ No jealousy whatsoever........ okay maybe just a liiiiiitle bit

☆ He’d feel a little jealous when he realised he didn’t get as much affection as he used to when he was the only child

☆ But that quickly changes when he receives attention from one of his parents preferably his mum Channie is a mamma’s boy I don’t make the rules

☆ When you were a newborn, your parents would have you sleep with them in their room. Chan would scamper out of his room in the middle of the night to sleep with the three of you because he was a wee bit jealous you got to sleep with mum and dad.

☆ It became a routine very quickly after that

☆ But your parents wouldn’t let him sleep next to baby because what if he accidentally hits you in his sleep. What a struggle. So he’d sleep on the edge of the bed cuddled in his mum’s arms. don’t touch me I’m soft

☆ Your mum would dress you two in matching outfits and take dozens of photos. “EW MUM WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!” you two looked the absolute cutest so it doesn’t matter

☆ Slowly when you two grew up and you started crawling, you’d follow him everywhere because he was so intriguing to baby you

☆ He started finding you annoying “STUPID BABY”

☆ But he’d still cry if something happened to you

☆ Slowly he started liking you back again

☆ He liked the idea of someone looking up to him and from then on he was your little protector.

☆ He was your guardian angel, he was your hero. He’d do anything to protect you. Scratch that, he still is. He always will be.

☆ Now you guys are older as tweens/teens/young adults whichever you prefer

☆ Eats your share of food- looking into the little nook in the fridge to take out your hidden stash of candy but your favourite one is gone. 

☆ You confront him about it and he looks guilty. You're extremely annoyed but at the same time you can't stay mad for too long. 

☆  He makes it up to you by buying you two of your favourite candies or treats you to something else. 

☆ "Why steal my food in the first place if you're gonna treat me anyway?" He'd shrug "for some reason it tastes better" so you smack him upside his head and then it escalates into a mini wrestling match

☆  He's a very active guy who’s into a lot of sports but when you ask him to teach you he's very whiny "noooooo later" but then when you're chilling he'll show up "come on let's go swimming" and you're like "noooooo" he'd be like "I thought you wanted to go? Come on" and drag you along even though you don't want to and it’s like “why didn’t you do this WHEN I TOLD YOU?”

☆ But he makes it fun for you in the end and afterwards he treats you to ice cream. 

☆ Eats a lot. If your mum gives you both a bowl of food. He'll inhale it like he's never eaten before in like 5 minutes and you're confused like how did he finish it all and it was piping hot meanwhile you haven't even finished 1/3rd of your bowl 

☆ so he's done and he's staring at your bowl with greedy eyes "you gonna finish all of that?" *switches to puppy eyes* you're like "yeah" so you continue eating until you finish half then just hand the rest over to him and it's all gone in a minute. 

☆ Your mum has no idea he eats half of your food when she gives you equal amounts and you'll never tell her because she'll scold you for never finishing her food so Chan is like your personal eco garbage disposal because he eats everything

☆ It’s like a dirty secret between you two what she doesn’t know won’t kill her

☆ He'll be your emotional support human he'll be the first person you always go to when you need a pick me up. 

☆ And it's a guarantee he'll always make you feel better whether it's through his words or his actions because both feel like a huge, cozy and warm hug

☆ If someone bullies you, your normally sweet and gentle older brother will go on a rampage "WHO THE FUCK HURT MY BABY BROTHER/SISTER?! I'M GONNA KILL EM"

☆ He’s the Golden child of your parents because he's good at everything but it never matters to you because Chan never makes you feel lesser than you seem to think of yourself. He's always supporting you and uplifting you 

☆ Tries to help you with your homework and in turn learns a few things himself. 

☆ He's a big help with poetry, literature or creative writing homeworks (wbk)

☆ You two are really close and you always talk about random stuff he's not just your older brother he's also your best friend

☆ Even your friends ask about him and want to be his friend too because he's so cool, some of them have crushes on him and you’re like “ew what’s there to like?” *fake gags*

☆ He's always nice to everyone he sees. Elderly people love him too because he's such a gentleman.

☆ He's very proud to have you as his sibling he'll proudly show you off to his friends. “THIS IS MY LITTLE BROTHER/SISTER :D”

☆ If he's having fun with his friends but if something is wrong with you he will drop everything and race to you as quick as humanly possible to make sure you're okay because he's not okay if you're not okay. this is science ok

☆ Sometimes you two bicker a lot but it's sibling banter where you end up laughing

☆ Shows you funny memes or jokes he finds on the internet be like "that's you" or "this is so me lmao"

☆ Tags you in siblings memes be like "us"

☆ If your parents are angry at you for something he'll try to defend you if he feels it's not your fault 

☆ But if something IS your fault he'd try to calm his parents down and then tell you about how wrong you are to do something in private so your parents don't put you down even more

☆ You always go to him for advice first. Not your parents, him. His input, opinions and approval mean the most to you. Because he’s the coolest.

☆ You two goof around a lot. Carpool karaokes on the daily. 

☆ You two would sing/rap together to songs and have a blast

☆ You feel insecure about your voice but Chan makes you feel like a popstar

☆ You two would post anonymous YouTube covers together when you slowly grew confident with singing. Just a side thing for funsies 

☆ He’s your rock sometimes you feel like he does too much for you and you can't do anything for him in return

☆ But little do you know Chan is the strongest because of you by his side always cheering him on. Your very existence gives him strength for everything

☆ You two have each other's backs through thick and thin

☆ Because of Chan as your older brother you're a better version of yourself everyday 

#stray kids #skz #stays #YOU MAKE STRAY KIDS STAY #stray kids everywhere all around the world #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids au #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #chan #bang chan #bang chan scenarios #bang chan fluff #bang chan imagines #bang chan au #gender neutral #gender neutral au #kpop au #bang chan headcanons

[vickylamore]

This Park Is Greener Than Others [1]

Lawyer AU, Prosecutor AU, Trial AU, Police AU

TW: Language, Mentions Of Murder, Mentions Of Death, Mentions of Gore, Underlines of Misogyny, Underlines of Sexism and Inappropriate Behaviour

Pairing: Lawyer! Jimin x Prosecutor! Female! Reader

Genre: Enemies To Lovers, Crime/Mystery

(1/?)

Word Count: 3.7k

[This Park Is Greener Than Others Mini Masterlist] [Main Masterlist]

Summary: You were given the okay to start your investigation and build your case when a young woman was brutally murdered in a motel room, the main suspect being her ex-boyfriend. You have your suspect, you have your witnesses and you have your evidence. All you have to do now is present your case, right? Of course, it would’ve been easy if a certain Park hadn’t appeared when you got everything figured out. Not only does he bring turmoil to your case but to your heart as well.

Notes: For those who have been following me for a little over seven months... you guys remember me posting this but never finishing it? Cause that’s excaltly what I did. But now, I have some spare time on my hands so why not finish it. It’s been a hot minute since I posted BTS content too. For those who’s read the first chapter, it’s completely different now :) with a new plot and added characters and better writing (ish... it’s like 4 am LMAO). I’ll be tagging @armytinyzenmoa​ @threeletterslife​ and @totally-real-bts-quotes​ because they were in my original tag list. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Please remember that this is a work of fiction and solely fiction. Any of the idols written and mentioned in this series would never take part in these actions, let alone stand by/condone them. The idols mentioned are merely used as characters and in no way am I saying that this is how they act in real life.

This will contain blood, gore, death, injuries and anything else of that sort because we are diving into the “police/trial” world with this fic. Reading is at your own discretion, especially in the next chapters. Again, none of the idols named will never take part in the situations and scenarios, I’m only using them as face claims.

“Doesn’t matter, it shouldn’t even matter what he says. You know better than to take his testimony.”

“But that’s the thing you don’t get,” you spoke into the phone, nodding your head to the person who opened the door for you as you walked into the precinct. “One, we need his testimony in order to know his flawed side of the story,” you shrugged. “Whether we get his testimony or not, the case is pretty much set in stone. Whatever he says won’t change the outcome.”

“You haven’t even talked to him yet.”

“I’m doing so right now,” you chuckled, throwing the empty cup of coffee in the trash. You pressed the phone towards your ear, his voice getting more and more frustrated. 

“He isn’t going to budge. The guy isn’t stupid.”

“Maybe,” you nodded, “but he’ll have to talk eventually, whether with me or at the trial. Even if he doesn’t say anything now, there has to be some sort of record of him saying something we can use.”

Walking through the second set of double doors, you were immediately met with the buzzing of cellphones, chatters from various conversations but the television, which was switched to the news channel, was the loudest among all the noise.

“Latest news today; Lim Area, age twenty-three pharmacist and a good samaritan was found dead in an occupied room at the Dark Blues Motel around ten last night. Police have arrested a person at the scene of the crime, no further details have been released to the public. Police are asking anyone with information to come forward or contact crime stoppers.”

“You heard the news,” you asked your partner, settling in line in front of the registration and visitors section.

“Yeah, it’s everywhere, the media doesn’t let us fucking breath,” he agreed with you, “still don’t understand why the court decided to put a rush on this one. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“The court with does what the court wants,” you sighed in defeat, “just means that we need to gather as much info as we can and work our asses off before the trial Monday.”

“Gives us an entire week to prepare. Alright, I’ll see you later.”

Hanging up the call, you immediately felt dozens of eyes land on either your hair, your attire or your badge secured in your dress pants’ front pocket. It’s not like you hated the attention; you were just getting it for all the wrong reasons. It wasn’t something you could control, someone either always wanted you for their own advantages or your body, that’s how you feel right now with a couple of hungry eyes roaming you up and down.

The line was long but was shortening rather quickly. The frequent sound of squeaking shoes irked your ears; since it was just raining outside, most didn’t have umbrellas to keep them dry. Thankfully, the sun was now out and brimming through the windows of the department, a dull but bright layer of sunlight shining on the side of your face, highlighting your breathtaking features. You glanced around the lobby of the police division, earning glances from the officers exiting the building. You chuckled under your breath and ran a hand through your hair, a smug grin on your lips. 

“In other news, Seoul’s prosecutor’s office releases a new statement in regards to yesterday’s incident with one of their top prosecutors, apologizing for the quoted “misunderstanding”.”

“Next,” the voice that spoke was loud and gruff, yet when you lifted your eyes, you were met with a man younger than you, one you’ve never seen before, waiting impatiently for you to approach the counter. He seemed to ponder on your body a lot longer than the other visitors, who all happened to be male, before clearing his throat. “Reason for your visit?”

“Classified.” You uttered, opening your phone and shooting the sergeant a text. “Just call the head of the department, he knows why I’m here.” 

Even if you were here quite frequently, you will never not be mesmerized by the allure of the department; the walls were a light brown-gold colour with the counter being a light black colour, adding lure when looking around. The walking space was vast, understandable since this was one of the biggest precincts in the capital. The walls were decorated with alumni and fallen officers who passed in combat, the rest was decorated with a waiting room were more than thirty people can sit at a time without it becoming crowded.

“Reason for your visit.”

You raised your eyebrows at his awfully harsh tone, “I already said; classified.”

“Miss, don’t make me ask again. Unless you’re registered on the list, I can’t let you in.”

“You must be new here, right?” The man quickly stopped talking, arms folded over his chest. Your fingers typed away the last few words before stuffing your phone in your pocket, alerting your partner that you’d pass by the office later with, hopefully, new information. When you lifted your eyes to look at the rookie, you focused on his name tag. You noticed the small shirt in his eyes at which you rolled your eyes.

“Minhyun, is it?” You leaned onto the counter, taking off your sunglasses and smirked. “Listen, kid, if you looked at the list in front of you and turned to the next page, you’ll see an entire slot that has big bold red letters that scream ‘classified’. I’m on that list, number 500462.”

“A video of one of their top prosecutors, prosecutor Song (Y/n), was released to the public earlier this morning explaining the near scandal she was in early this week.”

Out of all the times the news broadcast could be saying your name, they chose now. The scandal wasn’t even a scandal, you accidentally brushed your hand on a high ranking officer during a charity event and people took it the wrong way. Of course, it cleared up when things were getting out of hand but people were so quick to judge you without hearing what you have to say.

“Oh!” He quickly dropped the piles of paper on the desk, flashing you a smirk, “of course, how could I forget such a well-known detective?”

“Prosecutor.”

He shrugged, “same thing.” 

Of course, when you tell people who you are, they’d always change their attitude towards you, just like the male you had the dishonourable pleasure of talking to. Even if you were known and your office was extremely popular for putting numerous criminals behind bars, it gave no one the right to treat you any different and with chivalry.

It was quite annoying and one of the many reasons why you hated travelling from one location to another; not only did you introduce yourself time and time again, people were so quick to change their entire personality as a way to impress you.

“Dinner? Or are you lunch kind of girl?” You clenched your jaw when his hand slid across the counter to touch yours, almost intertwining your fingers together. Pulling your hand back, you gripped your handbag tighter as his smirk grew larger, his green eyes lighting up at your somewhat uncomfortable expression. “Oh, is the prosecutor shy?”

“Yes, actually,” you sighed in a sweet voice as you watched him getting closer, leaning over the desk to listen to your frail and vulnerable voice. “I’m really, really not shy for putting your ass in fucking jail if you don’t stop acting like a sexual predator.” Grabbing the collar of his uniform, you slammed him against the table, picked up a pen behind the counter and signed your name in the visitors’ chart. 

“Word of advice,” you whispered into Minhyun’s ear, a twisted innocent smile on your lips. “When you’re talking to anyone, especially to a woman with more power than nearly anyone in this fucking precinct, I’d suggest you not only think about your predatorial words but keep your eyes where I can see them.”

You left the room and made your way towards the detective’s hall, a specific hallway for promoted police officers who finally had the chance of making detective. The multiple gazes on your back made your skin crawl but your face stayed completely blanket, the occasional lip tilt when you head Minhyun groaned when he got up from the desk.

You’ve always wanted to be a prosecutor; to you, putting dangerous people behind bars was one of the most rewarding things someone could do (of course, it depends on what the individual has done). However, you weren’t expecting so much sexism in the work field, especially when someone is fighting for the same goal as everyone else. 

You also considered before a detective, so Minhyun wasn’t entire wrong but still acted horribly. Most of the detectives were older, a lot stricter and hardworking individuals who took their jobs seriously. More than you? Maybe, but that was only in some cases. You didn’t even like the older detectives, a lot of them were full of themselves and thought they were the best when in reality, they really were horrible. 

Though, you couldn’t say the same about the newest generation.

Your heels clicked on the white tiles as you made it to the end of the blue hall, knocked a few times before opening the door to the room and inviting yourself in. The room had five desks loaded with a computer, a desk, an office chair and stationery. You knew what it was for, they were new recruits. However, only two had nameplates on them.

New blood, much more passionate than the older generation. You knew who some they were, having seen them a couple of times while running errands. They were fairly young too, around the same age you started but still really young to be named detective. To be really technical, however, only two of them are detectives, the rest are still working their way up to that level.

You let yourself into the office and walked straight for the folder lying on one of the desks, sitting on the spinning chair and skimming through the files. They weren’t any case reports of any sort, it was specifically the case of the trial you’ve been appointed to, the one that was happening in less than a week.

Usually, you’d have a minimum of two weeks to work on the witness reports, the examination, gathering the evidence etc. But for some reason, the crown decided to rush this case, giving you less than a week to prepare. You only had today and tomorrow to do your initial investigating before you need to piece together a timeline, gather your evidence and have a listing of your witnesses. It wasn’t stressful, at least to you, but you wondered why it happened so suddenly, why did the court decide to give you such little time?

You started reading the files in the folder, fully immersed in the information you currently have; 

The victim (same on mentioned on the news): Lim Aera, 24, pharmacy student.

Description: Back hair, blue eyes, Asian and Caucasian descent, 5”7, 123 lbs.

Killed in a booked room in Dark Blues Motel, right across from the Michelin star restaurant which is famous for its dangerous knives, fire and item throwing skills. 

It is believed that the victim’s boyfriend killed her for a reason still unknown.

Forensics concluded that she died between 9:30 pm and 10:00 pm.

The main cause of death was blunt force trauma to the head (instant), signs of strangulation and struggle are shown based on the marks on her neck, ears, wrists, knuckles and ankles, the room was also in a mess when found.

“...he said she walked into here but I don’t see her.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised, the door is open.” 

The door opened with two pairs of footsteps walked into the room, the door shutting behind them. You didn’t bother glancing at them, only closing the file and getting up, “I’m guessing the sergeant sent you both to bring me towards the suspect.” One of the males nodded his head from which you saw from the corner of your eyes. You shouldn’t leave stuff like this unattended, especially if the door is unlocked. It risks liability if someone ever decided to tamper with the information, alright?”

“Got it, prosecutor.”

You finally looked at the two, your eyes slightly widening to seeing them in their uniforms, looking a lot older than they are. The first one looked slightly younger, only because his eyes looked more innocent than the other, he was slightly taller as well. His black hair was completely different from his partner’s blue hair but somehow created a favourable contrast and a way to differentiate them from each other. The one with blue hair was just shorter than the other but also older, whether it was because of his sharp features or the way he stood, you couldn’t figure it out. Or maybe it was the busted lip. Despite that, they had a friendly feeling to them, a lot less cold and sudden than their first impression of you. You knew they were the new detectives, which would explain the plates on two of the desks.

“Tell me, which one of you is Soobin?” Both men look up, slightly startled by the mention of the leader’s name. You chuckled under your breath while getting up, finding their reaction a little cute. “It says so on the nameplates, so I’m just asking.”

“Oh,” the taller one cleared his throat and stuck his hand out, “I’m Soobin, this is Yeonjun.” You shook his hand when you made your way over to them. 

“Heard a lot of the both of you,” you mentioned as you pull your bag further up your shoulder. “Both graduated high school and the academy a few years in advance right? Which is why you guys are detectives now.”

“Yes ma’am,” Yeonjun nodded his head while opening the door, “we’re now waiting for the other three to rank up and we’ll have our unit, or that’s what the boss says.” Humming and thanking the blue-haired male for opening the door for you, you followed Soobin down the hallway towards the interrogation room. 

You remembered when you were like them; young and so full of passion and exhilarant. It’s not like you’re saying that you don’t have those anymore but your passion turned into a craze for winning each and every case, it all happened right after your first win. You fell into a downhill spiral of wanting total control of how things were done that you became more and more bossy and snarky when talking to others. You tried to hide it but sometimes it’ll be beyond your own control.

“Do you guys know anything else about the victim?”

“She has a boyfriend,” you nodded despite already knowing the valuable piece of information, “this was only uncovered when we went through her phone, which was unlocked at the scene of the crime.”

“Her phone was already unlocked?” You asked Soobin, “was it planted?”

“We don’t know,” the younger of the two admitted, “whoever did it, whether it was planned or not contributed to the investigation because the last thing she posted on her Instagram was a picture of her and her boyfriend.”

“Who’s in custody right now,” concluded Yeonjun.

When the three of you got to the interaction hallway, Soobin opened a door and you quickly stepped inside, immediately capturing the image of the suspect in Lim Aera’s case as well of Kim Namjoon, sergeant of the department and chief of the new unit of young detective that’ll be forming in some time.

You immediately put your bag on the table and sit on the desk, crossing your legs as you rummage through the folder, rummaging through multiple files before landing on the one you were searching for. “How long have they been talking?”

“About fifteen minutes,” said Soobin, standing in front of the two-way mirror with his arms crossed. “But the guy’s stubborn, really stubborn.”

“I’m not going to ask again and no, it’s not a game.” You heard Namjoon sign from the other side of the room, a speaker connected so you could hear them but they couldn’t you. “I have two of my men see you leaving the scene of the crime with blood on your shirt and hands, not only that but you didn’t comply with their orders. You can come clean right now and I can bargain à tell with the prosecutor taking your case.”

“When he said ‘his men’, what does he means by?” 

“Soobin and I are the ones who apprehended him,” Yeonjun answered your question while sitting on top of the table, next to you. He ran a hand through his hair before straightening his blue and black uniform. “We were eating at the Michelin star restaurant across the motel we were walking back to Soobin’s car, we saw this man, the one in there right now, covered in blood.”

Turning towards you, Soobin continued, looking at you through the reflection. “At first, we thought he was hurt until we got a report of a suspect that matched his exact description so we chased him down, fought a little before apprehending him.”

Chuckling, you pointed at Yeonjun’s lip, “Is that why your bottom lip’s busted?”

Before he even responds, a loud thump emitted from the other room, making all your heads snapping to see what was happening. 

Kim Taehyung, age twenty-four, the primary suspect in the murder of Lim Aera, aggressively bangs the table at which his cuffed, unable to get up without removing them. Both rookie detectives straighten their posture as you listen in to their conversation.

“I already fucking told you, I didn’t do shit and I didn’t kill her! Why do you think it’s me?” 

Taehyung had beautiful blonde hair and bright brown eyes, his face resembling one of a model. His eyes, however, held so much frustration and anger while his neck and ears turn red. The man wasn’t unknown to the system; he had multiple priors and a criminal record as a teenager. Even if he served his time and hasn’t done anything too illegal to put him behind bars again, he does do street racing, is the ringleader of multiple underground and sold pills to struggling teenagers.

Although, that’s what the rumours say. They’re only whispers of what he’s doing now but no one has concrete proof of what he does in his spare time.

“Taehyung,” Namjoon, who was already started to get frustrated, leaning onto the table, chin resting on his knuckles. “You have priors, you have a long record. Do you really think people are going to ignore that, especially since you’re her boyfriend?”

“Ex.”

“What?” You whispered, eyes widening slightly as you took note, “Did he just saw ex?”

With a clenched jaw, Soobin muffled, “yeah.”

“We broke up four months ago,” the young male grumbled under his breath, looking away from the sergeant, “she has a new boyfriend, two months actually, she just never posts about it.”

“Motive.” Talking to yourself, you grabbed your phone and sent a text message to your partner. While doing so, you addressed the detectives, “when this is done, see if you guys can find his Instagram, Twitter or even Facebook. Anything that looks out of the ordinary in the last four months, keep it.”

“Got it, boss,” Soobin nodded while glancing at Yeonjun, “contact his friends too, they might know something we don’t and it might help us later on.”

“I’m going to do that and try to find her boyfriend and bring him in for questioning.”

Both rookies left the room, discussing their plan for the next few hours. You smiled softly, satisfied with the work they’re completing and, at the same time, overviewing the case in order to fix loose ends. You had faith in the two, as well as the three who are waiting to be promoted.

“Do you know why?”

Taehyung was an interesting man; even if he’s saying he’s innocent, he doesn’t want to cooperate with the authorities, which is the last thing anyone should do if they’re one-hundred percent innocent. Is he hiding something? If yes, what? And why? Is it worth it and risk yourself going to jail?

“As if I’m telling you.” Taehyung scoffed under his breath, “I want a lawyer. I already have one so just contact him. I’m not speaking anymore.” You were going to protest that you didn’t get a chance to talk to the suspect yet when Minhyun, the male from earlier, knocked on the door where Namjoon was and informed him that Taehyung’s lawyer just got here.

Even if you did grumble under your breath, perhaps you could talk to his lawyer and strike a deal. It would be challenging, especially if the lawyer is just as stubborn as you or even worse. Whether it included stubbornness or not, you knew that lawyers always wanted the best for their clients. A way to do that is to work with the prosecution and strike the best deal for their client.

You grabbed your bag and walked out the second form to the investigation you, running a tired hand through your hair.

Only for you to stop once you turn to face the entrance and see one person you never expected you’d see again.

His eyes seemed the widen when his gaze fell on you, the very same expression plastered on his face as you clench your jaw, anger clouding your thoughts. He hated even changed a bit, with the exemption of getting taller but you didn’t that you’d go up against him, again.

You didn’t think he’d walk back into you’re life, again.

Not only that but he’s your one-way ticket to hell if you can’t prove that Kim Taehyung is the killer, the one that killed Aera.

Of course, someone has to ruin your plans.

And that someone had to be Park Jimin.

--

Taglist:  @armytinyzenmoa​​ @threeletterslife​​ and @totally-real-bts-quotes​​

#bts #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts scenarios #bts fic #bts x female reader #bts drabble #bts oneshot #bts series #bts park jimin #jimin x reader #park jimin #park jimin x reader #park jimin imagine #park jimin drabble #park jimin scenarios #jimin imagines #jimin scenario #jimin fic #jimin fanfiction #jimin fanfic #this park is greener than others #vickylamore #vickywritings

[dripkingpetey]

untitled-j.markström

I didn't even intend to post this at all, I was just writing this cause I was bored and really missed marky but @passthehockeyplease​ made me post it so enjoy this poorly written+not proof read fic?( idk if you can call it a fic) I know nothing really makes sense especially since the reader is playing in the nhl and it is a female reader but just go with it haha. anyways I hope you enjoy :) (also, please do not come at me for any mistakes lol)

warnings:swearing+alcohol I think

2002words

You couldn’t believe it when you saw the notification on your phone. “Jacob Markstrom has signed with the Calgary Flames to a 6x6 contract!” Feeling a wave of emotions flushing through your body as your best friend, Jacob called you. You did possibly the worst thing, smashing your phone across the room as you bursted into tears of angriness and sadness. “What the fuck.” Was all you managed to mumble.

You couldn’t believe it, your bestfriend leaving the team you had spent years together on, without even telling you he was considering the offer. You heard a knock on the front door and you knew it was him, you walk to the peep hole of your apartment door to see if you were correct and you were. “Jacob go the fuck away I’m not talking to you.” You mumbled, just to the point where he could faintly hear you. “Please, just let me in. I can explain it.” The familiar calming Swedish voice rang from the other side of your front door as you hesitated whether you should let him in or not, quickly pulling your hand away from the doorknob you realized what you were doing. You latched the chain lock on your front door which you have never done before and Jacob heard it, he knew you didn’t want to talk but he had to talk to you, he had to tell you what was happening. But you never watched to see his face or anything of him ever again, hoping he would just leave Vancouver without talking to you and giving you and explanation and that’s exactly what he had to do. 

“Y/n you can’t just do this, you both miss each other and you know he had to sign with them.” Brock tried convincing you to talk to Jacob but it wasn’t working. Brock and Elias are the only people you’ve seen since then, Elias stayed in Vancouver with you for the off-season as Brock went back to minnesota but recently returned for the season. “I can’t just do what?” You questioned angrily. “Do whatever I want without saying anything? Well seems like I’m not the only person that did that right?” Brock was shocked by your words, he knew you were hurt but not this much. “Yeah, I do miss him. But what the fuck can I do Brock, there’s no way he’s going to come back and play for Vancouver and there is absolutely no way that I’m playing for Calgary, him and I’s friendship is over wether we like it or not. End of story.” You started tearing up as you said that. Brock moved over in hopes to comfort you since he didn’t know what to say. “I don’t want to kick you out but I have to, I need time to myself right now.” Brock understood and gave you a quick kiss on the head as he walked out the door, pulling out his phone to text Jacob what happened. “You hurt her, really badly.” Was all Brock managed to type. 

-

Tomorrow was the first game of the season and you just so happen was scheduled to play against Calgary, groaning as you saw the schedule since you knew you were gonna have to see Jacob. It wasn’t unusual for the season to start off with a road trip, so you started packing. Cleaning out your hockey bag since it was a tradition for you to do that at the start of every season, you saw something. “Markys hoodie,” You mumbled as you picked up Jacobs hoodie, he gave it to you last year while you were on a road trip in New York but you remember it like it was yesterday. You picked it up and put it on, remembering how big he was and the way the sweater absorbed your body, you knew you were going to regret it as the memories came back. Finding yourself crying once again, you picked yourself up and finished packing before you hung the hoodie back up. 

The hoodie ended up haunting you for the rest of the day, even though it was sitting in your closet, it was the only thing you saw whenever you even looked in the direction. You missed him, too much. You would be lying if you said he wasn’t occupying your brain 24/7, you knew it was so bad when you were driving to meet up with the team for the first game and all you could think about was not being seat mates with Jacob anymore. “Are you sure she’s okay?” Bo whispered over to Elias as you pulled into the parking lot, putting on sunglasses to hide your puffy eyes. “She isn’t, and none of us know what the fuck to do.” Elias quickly whispered before you made your way over to the guys and hugged Bo. “Hey,” You smiled as Bo returned the hug. Bo was always like a big brother to you, you told him about any problems you had but not this one. You don’t know why telling him didn’t cross your mind but you knew that Brock and Elias definitely told him as he pulled you into a tight hug. “Hey y/n.” He smiled at you before helping you with your luggage. “Are we ready for the first road trip of the season guys?” Bo exclaimed trying to hype you guys up and it worked. You unzipped the puffer jacket you had on over your hoodie as everyone got seated, it was unusually cold that day in Vancouver but you were glad to be going to a city that was even colder. 

You realized you didn’t have a seat mate this season which you tried to take as a good thing, it meant you could sit with anyone as long as they wanted to sit next to you. It also meant that you could sleep more comfortably and you took advance of that right away, falling asleep with your legs stretched out to the empty seat beside you as soon as the plane elevated into the air.

“She smells like Jacob.” Bo said quietly to Elias, not wanting anyone else to hear. “I know, I don't think she saw him so I'm guessing she has his clothes and was wearing them.” Elias responded right away in the same level of voice. They exchanged a look at each other, knowing that they had to help you somehow.

It was the next day, you tried to not think about Jacob which resulted in you working out at the hotel gym that the whole team was staying at. “Hey, keep some energy for the game tonight.” Bo joked, which was really because he was concerned about you but he didn’t want to let it show.  “Oh I’m fine,” You said quickly while panting. “See, just working out a bit to stretch the muscles and be even better for the game.” You lied, it was to get your mind off of Jacob. Bo took a quick peek around the gym to see if anyone was around before he started speaking again. “Listen y/n, I hate to ruin your mood but I know what your thinking about. It was hard for everyone and I know especially on you but you know I’m always here to talk if you need someone.” You nodded at Bo’s words as he later on encouraged you to go upstairs and get ready for the game and that’s exactly what you did. You braided your hair tightly after the cold shower you took to wake yourself up, the braids were a signature of yours. Whenever there was an important game you would braid it up for good luck and it worked this time, outscoring Calgary 9-3 it was a win for the Canucks. It was hard seeing Jacob on the ice and especially not in Canucks gear but you did it, without crying or letting your emotions take over your brain. 

“Yeah I’ll head back to the hotel for tonight, I’m super exhausted.” You said as you declined the invite from the guys to go out and they all groaned, but they knew not to ask you again. You quickly found yourself being the only one in the locker room, heading out with your stuff when you accidentally bumped into someone. “Oh my god, I’m so sor-” You cut yourself off when you saw who you had bumped into, Jacob. “Sorry- Y/n?” Jacob also cut himself off when he saw you, he didn’t know what to say. “Please stay, and talk to me.” Jacob begged as you started to walk away but you stopped. “What is there to say Jacob? You’re ‘sorry’ that you didn’t have a choice? We both know damn well that you could’ve told me first, or even anyone else. But no, you didn’t even try to talk to me till the news was out.” You said sternly and you could see the emotions on his face. “I thought you were my bestfriend.” You mumbled as you started tearing up, not letting him say a single thing as you walked away to the hotel. 

It was safe to say you were a wreck, not even noticing the tears that were streaming down your face until you saw a reflection of yourself in the tv of your hotel room. Finding any alcohol you could in the hotel mini fridge, you drank it all. Knowing it was going to cost lots but who cares, it took a second for the alcohol to set in but you knew you were going to wound up throwing up by the end of the night. You don’t know how but Jacob ended up at your door, you saw the surprised look on his face when you opened immediately. He was surprised partly because you opened, and partly because you were drunk. “Can I please come in?” Jacob asked as your brain sobered up a little and you knew what you were doing, leading him in as you sat down on the bed. “They forced me to sign the contract, I wanted to stay in Vancouver.” Was the first thing Jacob blurted out, you were confused at how he was forced but you let him explain. Jacob started talking about everything before you cut him off. “Shut up and kiss me.” You whispered as you moved closer and Jacob was confused but he kissed you, knowing that he wanted to kiss you as well. You had been waiting for this kiss forever, even though you always addressed Jacob as your bestfriend, you knew deep down that you liked him. “Fuck,” Jacob mumbled as he pulled away from you, almost tearing up. “I missed you, so so fucking much.” Jacob mumbled before noticing the weird taste in his mouth, it was all of the alcohol you drank prior to him arriving. “How much did you drink?” Jacob asked with a deep tone of concern in his voice as you laid your head on his chest. “All of those.” You mumbled, pointing your index finger at the pile of mini bottles on the table. “Oh shit,” He quietly cursed to himself knowing that you were going to be very drunk when all of the alcohol finally hits. It took awhile but in this moment you were absolutely blackout drunk, throwing up in a trashcan beside the bed as Jacob held your hair back and got you some water. “I’ll go get you some water.” Jacob said as he rubbed your back softly and you laid back down, you took a big sip of the water before thanking him. “I can’t stay in Vancouver without you, I miss you.” You mumbled while tearing up at him. “Its gonna be alright.” Jacob held you tight in his grip and kissed your head as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, completely forgetting about the awkwardness and what’s going to happen when you woke up.

#oh god this is long #jacob markstrom #calgary flames #<- that HURTS #im also gonna tag canucks because its about him leaving :( #vancouver canucks #Jacob Markstrom fic #calgary flames imagine #nhl #hockey #hockey fic #nhl fic

[chessdaze]

Since I outed myself with an ask to phoenix about an event I’ll go ahead and post something about my schedule for three wishes here. I won’t put this under read more just for visibility, so sorry ahead of time for clogging your dashes.

As a note ahead of time THESE ARE ALL SUBJECT TO CHANGE, I DO NOT GIVE ANY DATES CAUSE I’M NOT PUTTING MYSELF ON A DEADLINE. I’m doing this for my own enjoyment and hopefully, others as well but please don’t rush me. I’m sharing this just to be open about my plans and what I’m working on, and perhaps for the motivations / reminders it’ll give me - not to give anyone a reason to come at me. Okay? Okay.

Not counting small comics or misc posts of art and info or fics:

First order of business is for me to finish drawing all of Silas’ outfits and Design the Enchantress. I have Silas almost completely done sketch wise, so I’ll work on the sketches of the Enchantress next and then line/color and post those. I might also do some side character designs as I have a few that might show up here and there (but they’ll just be like the ghosts in canon, occasionally there and then you don’t see them for fucking ever). I WOULD do outfit design sheets for EVERY character BUT....that would be a lot of work. I might end up just making polls like ‘who would you like to see outfit references for’ and then work on them at my own pace. That way you guys get what you want first and I still have fun designing everyone’s outfits regardless.

Second order of business is my event I mentioned in the ask to phoenix, BATTLE OF THE BANDS! I accidentally went full game dev on the documentation (because if I’m not gonna use all that documentation homework I did for that game art degree NOW then when am I going to??), but I’m actually pretty far along planning wise since I’ve been working on it when I needed break from art things. Right now I have about half of the main story of the event outlined. My order of doing things is Summary of Story > Outline of items / mini games > Figure out what characters were going to be in the event > Main story outline > Card Story outlines > Finalized story and Card Stories > Art Assets. So it might take awhile before I post any art for it. But if people show interest in me posting some of the in progress things feel free to send me an ask every now and then and I can update you! Because of the ask and permission given, Evonie from @phoenix-manga ‘s Diamond Crown Academy will make an appearance in the event, as well as Three Wishes OCs made by @tsukikoayanosuke (Bridgette) and @missnekonyan (Donelle) as the clubs their characters are involved with the event overall. I’m really excited I got permission from all of them to be able to reference their characters! They won’t be big rolls but I’m happy to give all of these creators spotlight by adding in their characters.

Third thing, Regular Card Stories and Art for Cards! I am already making documentation to have these noted down, Will probably do them one dorm at a time but I do have a few ideas already. I will say that my R-SSR order of the cards is a bit different from canon. R’s are School Uniforms and PE outfits (will be slightly different depending on which PE course is taken by the student, since there’s three at three wishes), SRs  are Dorm Outfits and Fundraising outfits - as Dorm outfits are different per person i didn’t think they were special enough for SSRs but still worth some highlight, and Fundraising / Volunteering is a mandatory class at Three Wishes so that gets another SR spot. Then lastly their SSRs are their Ceremony outfits. These are also different per character but they will all have a matching color scheme so that’s why i wanted these to be the SSRs.  I also already have like four future events planned and which characters will be getting cards / what rank the cards will be for those characters! None of these events have any kind of outline yet, only general concepts and characters possibly involved, so the characters may change but I have them written down so I don’t forget and I can add to the event outlines as I find inspiration.

Maybe the fourth thing is actually designing the dang school. I SUCK at environment art, I’m not going to lie. It’s why alot of my comics up until this point has had minimal or no backgrounds at all. But one of the reasons why I’m drawing comics is to maybe get better at backgrounds cause I’m already sick of them not having one so progress I guess. But this is why this is kind of last on my list, as I definitely need the practice. If there’s a dorm or location I have listed that you would like to see art for or just described in better detail, Feel free to send me an ask!

And the thing I’m kind of working on while all of that is going on is of course, the Main Story Outline! I have all the chapter names picked and I have at least the Prologue - Second chapter bullet pointed as a first draft - I already know some places I wanna go back and change things but for now I’m just trying to get the general ideas for each chapter down. As of now there are eight chapters in total - including the prologue and the finale, so six major story chapters over all.  I’m still not sure how I want to tell this story in all honestly. Part of me REALLY REALLY REALLY wants to make these full blown comics in all honesty. I’ve been wanting to draw actual comics since I was a kid and I’m closer now than I ever have been to being able to do so. But I also know how much of a time sync that is and know that I haven’t quite grasped all the shading tools in CSP to really give it the effect I want to have - which is one of the reasons I’m working on the mini comic pages here and there so I can slowly improve - but I can’t promise anything. If nothing else, I’m semi confident in my writing skills so I will maybe end up writing it out.

As a treat TM, I’ll list the chapter titles I have down below. THESE ARE SUBJECT TO CHANGE, but I am pretty happy with them right now - they’ll only likely change if I end up changing my entire idea for the chapter or changing the order of chapters. Anyone care to give me some theories on what you think each chapter is about? :thinking:

Prologue: the start of an actor's life Chapter one, Nightingale: by the stroke of midnight Chapter two,wondrous: a queen among thieves Chapter three, diamanttobar: the wishing well Chapter four, guardian: a dragons curse Chapter five, lapinhole: tipping the golden scale Chapter six, servireu: the guest has arrived Finale: when the last petal falls

If you read this far, thank you so much and I hope you look forward to more three wishes content! <3

Also I ask that this post isn’t reblogged, not gonna come at you if you do but it’s just a to do list really lol idk why anyone would want to reblog it.

#three wishes institute #twst fanschool #twisted wonderland fanschool #twst #twisted wonderland #schedule of project #kind of #just really a long winded to do list lmao

[knightofameris]

an outstanding performance — marvel (stark!reader)

Setting: an AU where Peter never quit band and Michelle, Flash, and others are also in band, platonic fic!!! Gender: Neutral! Contains: fluff Word Count: 3.7k (I GOT CARRIED AWAY HOLY SHIT)

Summary: Being Tony’s kid meant everyone expected you to be some prodigy in some way. And you were—a musical prodigy at least. The last year of marching band was approaching and you’re definitely gonna be heartbroken. But as long as you had Peter, Ned, and MJ by your side it’ll all be okay

a/n: I wanted to pump something out since I haven’t posted and I’ve always wanted to write something with Peter in band because I WAS A BAND KID IN HIGH SCHOOL. So. It’s also not my best work but I had fun because i reALLY MISS BAND. AND THIS IS JUST A COMFORT FIC FOR ME TBH LMAO [repost from my old account @knightofmarvel​]

There’s a lot of band terms that I don’t think people will understand unless you were a band kid so here’s a little… mini explanation. This is what I used for my band by the way.

Sound off = just be louder I guess? Met = metronome The box = the area in the stadium where the announcer is always in Trumpet, mellophone, baritone/euphonium, tuba = brass instruments Flute, clarinet, alto sax, tenor sax, bari sax, bass clarinet = woodwind instruments Percussion = anything you can hit with a stick basically (including piano because piano keys control something that hits the string) Guard/color guard = the people who spin flags, sabers, and rifles. They also toss it in the air and do other crazy shit (deadass, guard people were so badass i dont get why people called them discount cheerleaders when guard works just has hard, if not harder. like u try tossing a fucking rifle up in the air. this girl legitimately went an entire show after splitting her brow causing her to bleed horribly and finished smiling soooo) Drum majors = people who conduct and is also basically in charge of the entire band Reps = doing something over and over, usually a certain exercise in music or marching technique or a certain part(s) of the show Set = Can mean multiple things, either a certain part of the show or getting ready for the rep they’re about to do (usually shown by holding the instrument up in “set” position) Stand-by = relaxed but still in attention Holding at pistol/rifle = more relaxed but usually saved in show or when instructors/whoever tells stories. Different instruments have different positions thus the pistol/rifle Horns up = instrument in mouth Horns down = instrument not in mouth, same position as Set.

Let me know if there are any mistakes!  **no beta, we die like men

Enjoy! 

“Senior year boyyysssssssss!” You screamed once you entered campus that warm summer morning. Ned and Peter turned around to see you running towards them, about to tackle them. Other band leaders, and especially the senior drum majors, cheered with you.

Ned and Peter, however, did not.

Instead, their eyes widened in fear and they raised their arms up, telling you to not jump at them. But alas, it was too late and you tackled them to the ground.

“Dog pile!” Someone, Adam (one of the drum majors) probably, shouted. And one by one, a group of your fellow bandmates fell on top of you. Each one of them caused you to let out a breath. Peter and Ned taking the brute of it.

“Alright alright, you idiots,” your band directed teased. You all looked up to see Mrs. Ha standing there with her hands on her hips. “Get up, you guys are scaring the freshmen.” She glanced over to the bandroom door where tiny heads were sticking out.

“Oh shit,” you muttered, everyone starting to stand up off of each other. You raised both of your hands down for Peter and Ned, they both took it and you helped them up.

“Damn, (Y/n), why’d you have to do that?” Ned asked. He then reached down for his hat. Something that was mandatory for all band members to wear during practice. Especially during band camp in the summer.

“It’s tradition!” You cheered, wrapping your arm around each of their neck. “Can you guys believe it? We’re seniors.”

“Yeah, and you’re woodwind captain man,”  Peter nudged you in the side.

You grinned and then walked in front of them to grab your backpack, clarinet case, and water jug. You turned around once they were all in hand. “Yeah, but at least I got my two trusty section leaders to lead with me.”

“What about me?”

The three of you turned around to see MJ with her hand on her hip. She had a slight smirk on her face.

“Uh,” you started to say, “to be fair, you’re in the brass section.”

“You could have switched,” MJ retorted, walking up to you and lightly punching you in the shoulder.

And you could have. Afterall, you were a musical prodigy. Especially considering the fact that you were the kid of Tony Stark. You didn’t have much of a knack for STEM, decent at it but only when you put in the extra work to the point of stress. But you had a knack for music.

Your dad noticed your gravitation towards music when you were a toddler and when you didn’t enjoy being in the lab as much as he thought you would have been, as a Stark. But you enjoyed music so he signed you up for piano classes. Then you wanted to learn more instruments and made your way through the wind instruments and then more percussion instruments. From flute to clarinet to alto saxophone, from trumpet to french horn, to, of course, piano and the drumset. You had a lot of range. The clarinet being your favorite instrument to play.

You narrowed your eyes at MJ, “But then you wouldn’t have been brass captain. And do you think I can leave the woodwinds to be left in charge by these losers?” You pointed to Peter and Ned.

“Hey!” They both protested.

“Guys! Roll call is soon and they’re introducing all the leaders to the entire band,” Adam said, holding the metronome in his hand.

“Yeah, got it,” You and Michelle said, both with a slight authoritative tone in your guys’ voice. You both exchanged glances with a raised brow.

“Wow, the captain in you guys is really coming out,” Peter teased. You both rolled your eyes. You went to go walk beside Michelle. On the way into the bandroom.

“Oh man, I just hope I don’t accidentally make a freshman pee their pants this year.” You walked straight into the bandroom and Peter laughed, remembering that clearly last year when you were section leader.

“I just don’t want to do running block,” Ned complained, trudging behind you. “I hate band camp.”

“Ditto,” MJ remarked. Peter shot her a look.

“Shouldn’t you be hyping it up, for the freshmen?”

MJ shrugged, “Yeah, but I can complain to you guys.”

“Fair enough.”

***

“Sound off guys!” You shouted as the band did reps across the field in across-the-floors. In a moment, the voices of the members got louder, counting in time with the met. You looked around yourself, making sure there were no members dicking around too much. With it being so far into the marching season already, you didn’t want any of them to dick around so much where they’d regret it if your guys’ band didn’t perform to the best of your ability at your last competitions.

Your eyes met Peter’s as he prepped to step off on the other side. He stuck his tongue out then faced forward with his clarinet in hand. His mouth moving with his voice being just loud enough to be heard as he began to count off. He was the backline with three other freshmen near him who didn’t count at all. All three of them clarinets as well.

You called out their names, telling them to sound off until one of the visual instructors cut the metronome. Peter continued, trying to keep time without it loud enough for the freshmen to stay with him.

“Alright, stop!” The instructor, Alicia, shouted. Peter stopped, relaxing his arms and putting his clarinet in his hand with standby. The entire band stared at him in silence, waiting for what he had to say. “We have three more competitions to go. One more football game. And then we have Grand Nationals. We’ve been doing this since June. It’s October! I’m doing all I can to push you guys, it doesn’t matter if you’re a freshman anymore. You’ve been in this program so you know what we expect. In the end, it’s up to all of you guys how bad you want it. Do you guys want to make finals?”

A chorus of yeah’s came from the students. Something caught your eye as the instructor continued to talk. Flash was dicking around, mocking the instructor and when the instructor was quiet you called him out.

“Hey Flash, why don’t you run a lap?” You asked. Lucky you, he was an alto saxophone, so completely in your control.

“Wh-What? Why? I didn’t do anything,” Flash argued. You raised a brow.

“Oh really? So you weren’t even listening to Alicia as she was talking?” You retorted. “You said you weren’t doing anything right? I guess that’s still a lap.” Someone next to him nudged him, telling him not to argue and he groaned.

He walked off to the side, setting his instrument down.

“Next time, don’t mock her when she’s trying to help us. Especially since you’re the only senior who doesn’t sound off.” Flash glared at you while you kept a smirk on your face.

He murmured, “Fucking Stark.” Then went off into the run. That’ll earn him a talk after practice.

“Thanks, (Y/n),” Alicia said, shooting you a smile. You gave her a nod

Percussion and color guard began walking into the stadium and prepped to practice with the rest of the band.

“Alright, I’ll cut this rep short, go grab a gush and wait for instructions,” Alicia ordered. The teenagers began to run off the field and towards their water jugs were with their own section.

“I don’t get why Flash is even more annoying,” Peter muttered. You and Peter watched Flash continue to run around the track as you drank water from your jug.

“It’s probably because he didn’t get any leadership position,” Cindy suggested. She stood next to you two, also a clarinet section leader.

“Yeah, well, Ned deserved the alto sax position,” you said. “Not Flash, he’s an asshole.” The other two nodded their heads.

A high pitched whining noise came from the box and everyone flinched and groaned, staring up at it.

“Oh, sorry guys,” the band director, Mrs. Ha, said. “Hornline captains, lead the warm up for your section. Mr. C and I won’t have enough time this practice.”

You turned to face your section, calling out to them and raising your instrument in the air. You led them to wear the respective drum major that conducted for the woodwinds for warm up stood on her podium. Everyone was wetting their reeds in their mouth, save for the flute players who stood in arc warming up their instrument. The reed players began placing their reeds on their mouth pieces, then also warming it up a bit. You walked around, talking to a few of the leaders here and there. Then walking up to one of the seniors in the clarinet section and making them center while also handing them a tuner for later.

With a wave of your hand and your fist closing, everyone stopped playing.

“Stand-by,” you called out. Each member stopped fidgeting and their ears looked to you attentively. “Set!”

In a ripple effect from the edge of the arc to the center, everyone brought their horns up. You smirked. “Nice job guys, we’ve come a long way since freshman band camp. Same warm up, make sure to watch the hands.” You pointed up to the drum major, Kay, who stood on top of the podium.

“Stand-by,” she called out once more. “Doing the woodwind warm up and make sure to watch my hands. Set!”

The rest of practice went by smoothly. The drum majors standing on the podium, instructors up in the box telling instructions through a mic for the head drum major to repeat. The entire band doing what was told. Parents sat in the stands watching their kids practice.

You could have sworn you saw your dad and a few others in the stands that practice. But you paid it no mind, he’d usually come to competitions but he had never gone to a practice.

So when practice was over and the band was dismissed, you, Peter, Ned, and MJ began to set back to the bandroom after all the underclassmen cleared out from the stadium. And after you gave Flash another stern talking about attitude and disrespecting instructors and leaders. Which led to him running a lap and then doing push-ups.

You and MJ were pushing the huge water jugs back as well, all of your stuff riding on the bottom of the cart with MJ’s. All four of you were joking around when you heard a familiar voice.

“Hey kid!”

You jolted, turning around to see your dad standing there with Morgan on his shoulders. Rhodey, Pepper, Steve, and Natasha stood next to him, all of them with a smile on their face.

“Dad!” You called out, letting go of the cart and running up to him. Tony quickly set Morgan down and you hugged him. He let out an ‘oof’ on impact but hugged you back. “You’ve never came to practice before!”

“Well, I thought I should,” Tony said, kissing the top of your head. “You stink.” You tore away from him, laughing when you noticed his scrunched up face.

“Yeah, my hat’s kinda gross from practice.”

You turned to face Morgan and picked her up, setting her on your hip. You looked at the others, “Why are you guys here.”

“Got bored,” Rhodey answered. “Then thought, we might as well see what the musical Stark was up to.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“You’re so cool, (Y/n)!” Morgan hugged you around your neck. “But scary. Just like mommy!” Your dad and you chortled with laughter and Pepper shook her head, grabbing her out of your arms.  

“Yeah, you yelled at that kid for a good ten minutes,” Nat said. “Good job.”

“I’m surprised,” Steve spoke up. “I didn’t realize marching band was modeled after the military bands until Rhodey told me.”

“Yeah, you never came to one of my shows,” you playfully glared at him. But you began laughing and hit him lightly. “I’m kidding, you guys are always busy. But-” you looked at them, hopeful “-my last football game is this Friday. Then three more local competitions until Grand Nats in Indiana.”

The adults exchanged glances with each other.

“Well, you know Pep and I will be at Grand Nats,” Tony said, ruffling your hair.

“And me!” Morgan added.

“And Morgan,” Tony laughed.

“We’ll… Try.” Steve scratched the back of his head. “Sorry, (Y/n).”

“It’s cool,” you replied nonchalantly. “You guys are Avengers, other priorities.”

“Not to interrupt, but your friend looks like she’s struggling with the jugs.” Rhodey pointed behind you, and you saw MJ trying to push the jugs over a whole in the ground. Peter and Ned stood there, laughing at her. Your eyes widened and you bolted over to her after passing Morgan to your dad.

“Oh shit, sorry!”

***

The band sat in the stands, playing pep tunes whenever they were supposed to while the football game went on. You, of course, were dicking around with Peter and Ned. Ned sat behind you with his section and you sat beside Peter on the edge. MJ was far off in brassland, reading a book since she hated her section. She really hated trumpets.

Then the drum majors motioned to the saxes that they could do their thing and Ned stood up, ushering his section to stand up as well. You smiled, as this was one of your favorite traditions during football games.

Ned played the first note, and everyone following after. The tune of ‘Beautiful Girl’/’Stand By Me’ leaving the horns. There were a few pitch problems, but it’s not like it was a competition. Football games were always one to just relax, have fun, and do dumb shit.

Mrs. Ha even watched with a smile on her face.

“How do you think MJ’s faring?” You asked Peter. He looked back.

“Still reading her book,” he replied. “Dude, this is the last time we’re ever gonna hear Stand By me.”

You shoved Peter, “Bruh, don’t talk about it! I’m gonna cry.” He rolled his eyes at you.

“Okay, okay, fine,” he said. “This is the last time we wear our uniform for a football game.”

“Peter!”

Peter laughed, raising his arms up in the air to block you from trying to smack him.

“Man, I’ll just do Drum Corps or whatever after this,” you muttered after giving up on hitting Peter.

“You could, that’d be badass,” Peter said. “Maybe do like percussion like tenor drums or something.”

You nodded your head, “I totally should. I’m gonna miss band a lot.”

“Me too,” Peter sighed. “But at least we can focus more on our other extracurriculars.”

You raised a brow at him. “You mean your internship?” Peter nodded his head. “You should’ve just quit band man.”

He shrugged, “Yeah, but band is fun and you’re still in it with your internship. Though, I think MJ would have found out a lot sooner if I did though.”  You laughed, remembering how MJ was only slightly thrown off on Peter possibly being Spider-Man because of how he was able to be in band and a superhero. Though the same applied to you

“Okay, sure, but I don’t do missions on season, and I fight crime a little less,” you retorted. He laughed again at you, eyes filled with amazement. You were cheering at the football team, not that you knew what was going on. Just, everyone else was cheering plus it was fun.

Peter was always amazed at how smoothly you fit into the leader role, something that would put you at an advantage if you ever led the Avengers in the near future. It definitely helped when you led groups in missions or when none of the older adults were around in times of crises. Then whenever a freshman was upset or a band member got injured on the field, you always somehow ended up right next to them. Even tripping while running across the field but falling into a roll then jumping back up, then carrying said injured member off the field to make sure they were okay.

He laughed to himself, remembering each moment he shared with you and all the other band members. He’s going to miss it a lot, but he knew you’d miss it even more.

***

The sounds of cheering, the rush of adrenaline, the musical notes and perfect harmonies accompanying the melody reverberated throughout the stadium. Then when the last note came out of your horn and everyone snapped their horns down, panting and sweat glimmering on everyone’s forehead, you smiled. You started almost laughing with tears coming down your face.

You enjoyed jumping off buildings to feel the adrenaline and going through the city but that could never compare to performing. Especially considering all the hard work you, and the entire band, put in for this particular moment. Your smile widened even more when you saw both of the senior drum majors on the podium in front of you also smiling, panting, but tears in their eyes.

Then the bass drum hit and in time with the beat, the members marched off the field or went to their respective prop to push it off the field. You were part of the latter, meeting up with Peter at the same prop.

He flashed you a smile, “Don’t cry yet (Y/n), we gotta wait before the senior traditions.” Then you only started crying more when you realized you wouldn’t be on the receiving end anymore. You would be the senior participating in said traditions. You wiped the tears off with your gloves.

“Shut up, Peter,” you laughed. “I can’t help it, we made it into finals. That was our final performance.”

“Was it your best performance?” Peter asked. You just started bawling more, nodding your head. At this point you weren’t even pushing the prop, but you knew Peter didn’t even need help, being Spider-Man and all. “Then that’s all that matters.”

When the entire band made it out in the -5 degree cold air, putting their instruments away and giving the props to the band dads to put away, you finally stopped crying. Mostly because tears in this weather was always an ass with how cold it is, especially considering the uniform doesn’t give you any warmth. Before your band director could round everyone up to talk about how it was the best performance your band had ever performed this year, that it didn’t matter what place you got, you felt a small body wrap around your legs.

“(Y/n)!!”

“Mo! What are you doing?” You asked, picking her up into your arms. She was bundled in warm clothing and you saw your dad and Pepper. Then even in the distance, you saw the Avengers which made you beam.

“That was great,” your dad said, kissing the top of your head.

“Wait! No PDA in uniform.” you took a small step back. He rolled his eyes. “Kidding, I don’t care anymore. Thanks dad.” He ruffled your hair the moment you gave your shako (hat) for Morgan to hold.

“Yeah, honey, even your solo was amazing,” Pepper said, fixing your hair then kissing the top of your head.

“It was…” Morgan paused, her face scrunching as she went deep in thought. “An outstanding performance!” Morgan cheered, hugging you tightly. You, Tony, and Pepper exchanged glances.

With a raised brow, you asked, “Where’d she learn those words?”

“No clue.” Tony shrugged. Then he grabbed his dad-bag and pulled out a few cards and even small gifts. “By the way, this is from everyone. They’ll come stop by to say hi but after they have a mission to get to.”

A small smile made its way on your face and you even started crying again. Tony wrapped an arm around your shoulder, rubbing your arm up and down. Morgan held onto you even tighter and Pepper placed a comforting hand on your hand.

“Thank you for coming, I’m gonna miss this so much,” you sniffled. Looking around you at your bandmates and all the joyful tears being shed, the hugs, the laughter. None of them were even staring at your dad in this moment because of the last performance. Which says a lot. Well, save for a few but it didn’t matter.

“I know,” your dad said softly. “But you got to experience it and I am so proud of you, (Y/n). Section leader and then woodwind captain? Amazing. I can barely play piano for the life of me.”

You chuckled, “I can’t code for the life of me.”

“But one thing’s for certain,” Pepper said. “Starks are always a natural for their passions.”

Your band director called for everyone to gather around to give them one last after-performance talk for the end of the season. You stood next to MJ, Peter, and Ned. Some of you with tears in your eyes, but all of you with a sense of satisfaction coursing through you. Four years of band was difficult, but you all made due with each other.

You glanced back, towards your family and the other Avengers and you were so happy to know that there on the field, you knew they were all watching. They all supported you through your musical career and would never stop.

Then the drum majors dismissed all of you and you turned to try to talk to your family once more, even making eye contact with Steve until all the freshmen and other underclassmen bombarded you with hugs and being all teary eyed.

“Hey, don’t worry about it guys,” you mentioned, looking at Peter, Ned, and MJ, trying to get them to help you out, “I’ll be doing drumline this year, I’ll still hang ‘round the bandroom.”

Tony chuckled, watching you talk to the younger teenagers and hugging each of them. He was proud of you, no doubt about it.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x neutral!reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x male!reader #peter parker x stark!reader #platonic!reader #a.writes

[jaehyunhour]

all i wanted | part four

best friends to lovers!mark mini series.

summary: in which an awful breakup brings you and mark closer than ever before. and you fall in love. or maybe you’ve always been in love and never realized.

pairing: mark x fem reader. (special appearances from day6′s young k, stray kids’s hyunjin, chungha, and other nct members!)

word count: 1,363 words.

previous | next || au masterlist

if you want to be on a tag list for this fic, please send me an ask!

although y/n was happy to be back together with brian, and getting to return to some sort of normalcy in her life, she had to admit she missed mark’s company. he had already been in canada a few days when she got back together with brian, and mark didn’t really have the time to talk since he was busy with his family and jaehyun. why he asked jaehyun to go with him back to visit his family in canada instead of y/n is a mystery to her, but there’s nothing she can do about it now. they look like they’re having fun, mark posts almost daily on instagram and she’s glad to see him enjoying himself. she still feels bad for how draining she was when she first ended things with brian, especially since she got back together with him eventually.

y/n tried to remain low on social media and not post too much about getting back together with brian, especially since she hadn’t told mark yet. she knew he was going to be upset when he found out, and she didn’t know how she would handle it. but since she’s been hanging out with chungha and hyunjin in mark’s absence, and brian tags along, they’ve all been posting all over instagram and snapchat about their endeavors. going out for drinks, going on picnics, spending the night in playing games, everything has been broadcasted against y/n’s will and she wonders if he’s seen and is upset and that’s why they haven’t talked.

despite all of that, she has a scheduled facetime call with mark in roughly twenty minutes so he can check in on his puppy and make sure things are going okay in his absence. just as y/n starts to get comfortable in mark’s bed, her phone lights up with mark’s face. she answers quickly and flashes him the biggest smile when the call connects and she sees him looking back at her.

“hi mark! how’s canada?” she asks excitedly.

“it’s a lot of fun! i wish i would’ve invited you to come instead of jaehyun, though. i love jaehyun but my family keeps asking about you and i think he’s getting tired of hearing y/n this, y/n that,” he says with a laugh.

“aw, maaaark, i wish i were there too,” she says with a slight pout. “i would’ve really enjoyed seeing imonim again and getting to go around your home.”

“y/n, i told you that you can call her eomeonim, you don’t have to call her imo!”

“mark, you’re not my boyfriend, i can’t just call her eomeonim like that! how is she anyway?”

“she’s doing really good, she’s healthy and i’m really glad. how’s my baby, though?”

“oh i’m doing great, but don’t you want to know about your dog?”

mark rolls his eyes, “you know that’s what i’m asking.”

“your dog is a nightmare! give me a second,” y/n gets up and runs into mark’s living room quickly picking up teddy and bringing him back into the room for mark to see.

“he’s cute and all but he doesn’t get along with my cat at all so i haven’t been home in days and i miss him.”

“who’s at your house watching yuqi then?”

“i paid hyunjin’s friend minho to watch him while you’re gone, not too much but enough to convince him to do it.”

mark nodes and there’s an awkward pause that weighs heavy on his chest. he wants to ask her about brian but he’s afraid that she’ll say what he doesn’t want to hear. and the silence weighs just as heavy on her chest because she doesn’t know how to tell him.

she decides to rip the bandaid off and quickly say: “ihavesomethingtotellyou” but in that same moment, mark also decides to do the same thing and asks: “did you get back together with brian?”

her heart feels like it’s sunk into her stomach and she says: “oh, uh, y-yeah we got back together.”

mark doesn’t respond but drops his gaze to his lap, and she can see his jaw clench.

“i ran into him a couple days after you left when i was walking teddy and we talked things over, and we got back together.”

“and you think this is a good idea?”

“well, i—“

“you forgave him that easily when he hurt you so bad? y/n, i held you every night for over a week while you cried over what he did to you. he tore you apart and i put you back together, i can’t believe that you would just get back together with him like it was nothing.”

“you know i am so thankful for how much you helped me mark, but i don’t understand why you’re so upset. it’s my relationship and my decision to make,” she says quietly, tears falling down her face. mark’s puppy tries to lick away the tears falling down her face and it hurts mark to see it.

“you’re right, it’s your decision to make and i’m in no position to be commenting on it, i guess. but it just hurts me to see you get back together with him because i know how awful you felt when you walked in and saw him with sooyoung, and i just — god, it fucking sucks — because i can’t believe he would treat you like that. i would never do that to you, i just can’t imagine being in his position, being so in love with you, and throwing it away for some random bitch. it makes me sick to think about,” mark confesses.

“mark,” she whispers in response, tears still flowing freely down her face.

mark lets out a sigh and wipes at his eyes, “i’m sorry, y/n, i never thought that i would be doing this over the phone. i never thought that the first time i told you how in love i am with you would be over the phone… but i really am, y/n. i think i realized i was in love with you the first time you met my mom and you accidentally mixed up snow and eye when talking to her in korean.”

she quickly recalls the memory — she had only been friends with mark for a few weeks, and his mom had come out to korea to visit him. mark was nervous because he had never introduced a girl to his mom before, and she was nervous because she wasn’t sure her korean skills would be sufficient to communicate with his mom, and she was right. she came to visit in the winter and got to catch the first snow, and quickly exclaimed “와, 눈이 왔다!” [it’s snowing!] and y/n, confused, responded: “whose eye is coming?” before she can get lost in the memory, mark keeps talking.

“when you left, my mom told me that she thought you were so cute and she hoped we would get together. i guess i never got the courage to say anything… and when things went bad with brian, i thought maybe i had a chance and was waiting for you to heal so i could say something.”

“mark, i don’t know what to say,” she takes a deep breath in, and looks at mark staring back at her.

“you don’t have to say anything, i know now that i’ll never compare to brian, it’s okay.”

“no, mark that’s not it—“

“it’s okay, y/n. just go home.”

“what about teddy?”

“i’ll ask johnny to go watch him, don’t worry about it. go home. can you be gone in the next hour?”

she nods. “y-yeah, i can do that. i’m sorry, mark.”

“mhm,” he says.

“i love you,” she responds.

mark hangs up the phone and y/n slumps into his bed, laying her head on his pillow and crying as teddy barks at her in an attempt to get her to stop crying. she pulls him close to her chest and he lays there as she continues to cry.

“johnny will be here soon,” she says through choked sobs as she pets teddy. “i have to go, i’m sorry.”

(a/n: tbh this shit HURTED to write but we’re almost halfway through the fic woo-hoo!!! i have a plan for my next fic after this and i’m really excited!) 

#nct #mark #mark lee #lee minhyung #nct mark #nct 127 #nct dream #nct u #nct smut #nct fluff #nct angst #nct reaction #kpop #kpop drabbles #kpop scenarios #nct aus #mark lee au #nct au #nct 127 smut #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 angst #kpop fluff #kpop angst #skz hyunjin #day6 young k #chungha

[shaekingshitup]

My Type

A/N: I finally did it! There are probably hella typos because the app I was writing this in kept on autcorrecting everything. But I tried to clean em up. I can already think of things I wanna do differently. But i’m just happy that I’m being consistent and doing something. I ACCIDENTALLY PUT IN A “KEEP READING” JUST BEFORE I POSTED THIS. WOW. How did I do that?

Edit: I learned how I put the “Keep Reading” there and I am re-posting because my old blog was trash thanks to staff.

Songs I was listening to try and get me in the mood for this fic are here. But I trust your imagination to feel what a club setting is like. You ain’t gotta press play boo,

Warning: cursing, “the - n word”

Dani was out there givin it her all. She had to because she knew the DJ was gettin ready to spin this Petey Pablo single into her summer anthem. That shit would have her goin nuts in no time.

Hennessy on my lips

“Oh bitch, this is yo shit!” screamed Rachelle, digging in between her breasts to pull out her phone. She always had to take it to the Snap.

Hennessy on my lips

The DJ was messing with them at this point. This was about to be the third time he had teased Dani with the first line of the song. If he kept playin, she was gone have a lot of words for him in the parking lot when his set was over. She hated when they did that shit.

Hennessy on my lips, take a little sip

Privacy on the door, I'ma make the shit grip

Rachelle was hollering, “Ayyyyyy, that’s my best frannnd!” loud enough for damn near everyone in the club’s attention to be drawn to Dani.

As if someone had flipped a switch, Dani started twerkin like her life depended on it. You would have thought she was auditioning to be the lead for City Girls’ Twerk music video. All the ladies were on the floor shaking their asses. But no one was out there throwin it in circles the way Dani was- and she knew it.

Rich nigga, eight-figure, that’s my type

That’s my type, nigga that’s my type

Eight-inch big, ooh, that’s good pipe

Bad bitch, I'ma ride the dick all night

Dani was in a full squat pretending like she really had something or rather someone to ride on the floor with her. She was glad she’d chosen to rock her black romper with the white vertical stripes and the denim jacket to go over it instead of her bodycon dress. If she’d put that on tonight, the fabric would be around her waist at this very moment. Typically, she was so engrossed in her song that she didn’t even take into account the rest of the world. But this time was different. She felt…off. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t alone. Glancing up to the V.I.P. balcony she saw why. There was one fine ass man watching her get down. He was leaning on the guard rail devouring her with his eyes as if she was his personal seven-course meal. Dani couldn’t look away. His gaze was far too intense and he held a beguiling smolder she couldn’t begin to match. Not in public in front of all of these strangers at least.  

The moment the song was over, Dani straightened up and this nigga had the audacity to wink at her as she made her exit from the dance floor. She turned and grabbed Rachelle by the hand so they could re-fuel at the bar. Her Fairy Thot Mother really brought out the best in her. Yet every time the song was over, she needed a moment to recuperate. Sipping her Between the Sheets, Dani had to yell at Rachelle to get her attention again. Her gaze was fixated on the V.I.P level and who she could make out up there.

“Rachelle, are you listening to anything I am saying to your ass?” Dani fussed.

“Danica Albany Jones. Yo ass should know by now that I can multitask better than most can focus on one task for the rest of their lives. I hear you. You had a fine ass nigga scoping you out while you was getting it and now you’re tryna to make your dance floor fantasy a reality,” Rachelle stated still focused on the balcony.

“Fantasy? Nobody said all dat!” she kissed her teeth and rolled her eyes at Rachelle’s antics. She hated when Rachelle listened to her without looking at her. It was rude as hell and even more frustrating when the bitch was able to repeat everything she’d uttered just moments before.

“Got em!” Rachelle shouted turning back to Dani. Trying to play it cool, Dani forced herself to avert her eyes from the balcony and waited for her to clarify. “Damn, I can’t believe he really in her with that trick Trina.” Immediately, Dani slanted her eyes at her about-to-be replaced best friend.

“You really are out here checkin for Shad? I thought you were done messin with his ass?” Dani loved her best friend and she knew she was a woman on a mission. She wanted a man with a bag. She was strategic about it all and not subtle by any means. She could always tell you who was in the V.I.P section and had that shit mapped out like she drew up the damn blueprint herself. She had messed with a few ballers and other money makers. But she was perpetually stuck on stupid with Shad. He didn’t even meet the criteria for her future husband. But, the dude must have made up for what he lacked in height and net worth in the bedroom because Rachelle was rarely able to stay away for long.

“Don’t worry about what I’m doing tonight. Yo scary ass needs to go find yo stalker.” Rachelle shot back. As if she summoned the devil himself, Dani turned her head to his section and saw him eyeing her again. Once he realized he had her attention, he beckoned her up to his section with a slight head tilt towards the bouncer at the V.I.P entrance.

“Did you-“ before she could even get it out, Rachelle was downing the rest of her drink and pulling Dani towards the staircase.

“Just follow me, I know the area.” Rachelle threw over her shoulder as they wove through the crowd. Dani rarely went out- let alone found herself in the V.I.P section of any club so she held on a little tighter to Rachelle’s hand as they approached the bouncer.

“Hey Mike,” Rachelle offered peeping past him to the booth so she could see Shad occupying a smaller booth with Trina sitting on his knee.

“Rachel. How you doin tonight? I see you brought a new friend” Big Mike countered. He knew her name was Rachelle just like she knew his names was Big Mike. So long as she continued to call him out of his name, Big Mike was determined to do the same. Petty sees as petty does.

“Danica” Dani said a she extended her hand and smiled up at Big Mike. Already she’d won him over faster than Rachelle’s ass ever could. Big Mike turned around and verified that there was someone else on the other side of the velvet rope expecting the ladies. When E provided a nod of approval. He let the ladies inside.

Dani had no idea what had come over her. Granted she didn’t go out often, but it wasn’t like she’d never encountered the opposite sex before this evening. Walking up the stairs towards this man was proving to be a more difficult feat than she’d ever imagined as her legs seemed to be gelatinizing with each step she took. Or maybe it was the alcohol. She had consumed a few shots of Henny at this point. Within V.I.P, Dani could see that he had a few booths for him and his people to occupy. Dani couldn’t even begin to take in his mini kingdom he’d established because she was too preoccupied by how good he looked up close. His short dreads were neatly pulled back into a ponytail towards the back of his head and on his frame he adorned a long white tee, an Amiri distressed denim jacket and a black pair of drop crotch jeans that didn’t do well to help her keep her eyes from droppin below his waist line. What distracted Dani the most, was the gold rimmed wire frames he adorned which were quite similar to her own pair. Gold was her favorite color and she loved it even better against some melanin. As she took the final steps to be in his presence, he called out “Hey, lil mama” welcoming her with a partial smile and a glimpse of his golds in the bottom row of throne-er mouth. If it weren’t for Rachelle tugging her around in that very moment she would have surely collapsed into his arms. Instead, as Rachelle turned her around to tell her some final piece of advice she ended up crushing her ass into his hand. Which, may not have been too much of an issue if his white shirt hadn’t taken on the amber brown from his Hennessy as a result.

“Fuck! Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry” Dani began as she stood bug eyed in from of this adonis of a man. He lifted up his shirt to assess the damage and see if it was soaked through thoroughly.

You’ve got to be kidding me. This man can’t be this fine at first glance and have a body like that. How many packs is that? 6? 8? Do they even got a word for that? Damn Dani get it together. You’re staring. Stop staring.

He chuckled. He was bemused by the situation. Nah by her.

Reach for her waist her bent out and growled, “Imma be right back. You and yo girl make yourself comfortable in the back booth,”  as he disappeared down the steps.

“Biiiitttchhh, how drunk are you?” Rachelle asked.

“I only had 1 shot of Henny and that Between the Sheets in the 2 hours we’ve been here. Why?” Dani questioned looking confused as hell. Rachelle should have been saying sorry. It was her fault that Dani’s ass ended up in the stranger’s hand anyways. Rachelle cut her eyes at her friend.

“Because the way you were talking about his body was bold as fuck when you don’t even know his name,” Rachelle cackled. She was low-key proud of her girl.  

“Aww fuck. I said that shit out loud? What kind of friend are you for letting me ramble on like that?!” Dani whisper yelled.

“The kind that’s about to put you on game,” Rachelle quipped back, “Okay so to your left you have the Hip Hop Descendants. These are all of the people who got daddies and mamas in the game. The only reason anyone puts up with them is because they parents are the pioneer of Hip Hop, Rap and everything in between as we know it. Some of em had a single or their own tv show coming up. But, if it wasn’t for their DNA we would all say IDC”

“Wait what about Shad? He’s over there and last time I checked his parents were just regular degular people like you and me,” Dani posed.

“Shad is unique in that he was in the game at a young age and just grew up in the industry,” Rachelle supplied.

“Okay. So Shad is the Aladdin of the Descendants because his parents weren’t present in the Hip Hop industry”

“I won’t even acknowledge that. Moving on, in the middle you have Black By Popular Demand. These are the people who the media thinks are Black purely due to association. These hoes got here because they all know how to suck, ride or have a nigga by they side. In doing so, Hollywood calls them trendsetters rather than Culture Vultures and let’s them act out as they please. We don’t really fuck with them or their crews.”

“Is that a Kardashian?”

“They always got at least one of them in that group. To your right, are your Single Housewives”

“That don’t make sense. How are you a housewife and single?”

“If you would stop interrupting, I would be done with my explanations by know.”

“Okay okay. I’m sorry Janice. Continue please,” that made Rachelle laugh.

“You so stupid. Okay as I was saying on your right are the Single Housewives. Most can be found on a segment which is currently airing on VH1 or trying to secure someone to get them on the network. They may have been a housewife or a girlfriend and some point, but for now they just opportunistic.” Dani keeps her word and doesn’t say anything. But she knew exactly where Rachelle was going to make a beeline for later on in the evening.

“Last but not least, we have the section we are in right now: The Heavy Hitters. The niggas in this section got bank. I’m talking numerous sources of income. Collectively, they could probably wipe out Cali’s debt. And from what I’ve heard, the one who is chosey with you ain’t just got big bank he got a real fat-“

“Y’all ladies good over here?” he said as he returned to his private booth.

“Yes,” they sang in a chorus. Somehow he’d managed to find an even more expensive white tee in the few minutes he’d been gone.

“Cool. We ain’t get to introduce ourselves earlier, I’m Erik,” he said picking up the carafe of Henny and a glass gesturing to Dani and Rachelle.

“I’m Rachelle and I’ll take mine’s to go,” she said extending her hand. She took it, saying her goodbyes and heading straight to the Single Housewives section where she was directly in Shad’s line of sight. She really thought she was slick.

Dani turned to find those eyes roaming her frame for the third time this evening.

“I’m Dani…and I’ll take a lil bit,” she managed to get out as he maintained his contact with her. He never broke it even as he offered her the glass, poured his own and sat down right next to her on the sectional.

“Okay lil bit”

“What’s that mean?”

He smirked. “It means, “he said while placing his hand on her thigh, “you really bout it this evening. Ain’t nothin bout you little. Yo shit match my shit and you won’t take them sexy ass eyes off me. That’s My Type indeed”

#fictober day 2 #fictober19 #shaekingspeaks #erik x oc #erik killmonger #killmonger fic #black panther fanfiction #erik stevens #erik stevens x reader

[clown-bait]

Apologies (Monster Roommate AU)

So to continue my holiday mini fics for the AU heres the next one in the series! Pennywise gets in trouble and gets the silent treatment. He doesn't handle it well. On a side note I had a BLAST writing this especially the second part and Leech’s temper tantrum at work. I’ve been wanting to show her at the bar for some time now and get more of the Sawyer brothers in there! Also Penny making missing posters with sad faces drawn all over them in an attempt to be an adorable little shit. 

Pennywise Sucks at Apologies

“Who ever is playing as “trashpire” is losing badly.” Penny plopped on the couch between Freddy and Leech.

“Wow thanks for the encouragement.” Leech grumbled as Freddy stabbed her character again. The demon was himself in the game of course, playing it somehow on the stupid Nintendo power glove. Leech put the controller down and packed another bowl in a huff.

“Aww giving up so soon bloodsucker?”

“You know its not fair when you use demon magic to win. Hey Penny sweetie, help me out here do that thing you do with the tv.” she picked the controller up after taking a hit from the colorful pipe.

Pennywise growled “I am a timeless ancient evil not something you can use to cheat on video games.”

“It's not cheating if Freddy’s cheating too.”

Penny playfully covered her face with his hand causing Leech to lose once again. The clown cackled at her protest continuing to mess with her vision. Leech finally got fed up and bit down on his thumb. Pennywise growled with mock anger and the vampire released him peppering little kisses on the wound.

“Ugh can you guys take a break today? I don't want to deal with Vorhees trying to break in” Freddy scooted over as far away from the couple as possible.

“Is he at it again? Man I bet that asshole was way better when he didn't talk” Leech remembered the first time she had run into Jason and how obnoxious he was.

“Nah, He was still an asshole” Freddy grumbled taking a hit from the pipe.

“Speaking of silent giant assholes, you know who absolutely freaks me out?”

“Me?” Penny grinned proudly

“Haha you wish. You're a giant asshole for sure but you aint quiet love. No its Michael Myers, I ran into him in the store the other night and the guy just stood there silently in the middle of the aisle like he was trying to decide he wanted to stab me in the throat or not.”

Penny's face twisted into that of pure offense. HOW DARE she think someone else was scarier than HIM. HIM the eater of worlds! The master of FEAR ITSELF. Pennywise felt his eye twitch and drift apart.

“Mikey is a total jerk man, he has this high and mighty attitude. Just because you don't say anything doesn't make you the scarier monster.” Freddy let out a puff of smoke while handing the pipe to the vampire who took a long hit.

“Pfft you're the opposite end of the spectrum Fred, maybe take a page out of Myers book sometime and shut up” she passed the pipe back across Penny’s lap, who was eerily still, to the dream demon.

“Nonsense, the ladies love a chatty killer! Right clown?…Clown?…Earth to Jingles?”

Penny's eyes had rolled completely to opposite sides of his face.

“You ok Pen?” Leech waved a hand in front of his face. The clown snapped to life with a roar and his jaws extended like a goblin shark biting onto her wrist. “OW HEY WHAT THE HELL” she slapped him on the back of the head. Pennywise let go, quickly grabbing her shoulders and sniffing frantically. “Were you scared???” he asked still sniffing her “NO I'm fucking pissed off what the shit Penny!?”

“Y-you weren't scared? Not even a little?” wait was he worried?

“Looks like you're losing your edge clown! Mikey is the one who scares your girl now!” Freddy laughed and Leech threw a dusty old pillow at him.

“Kruger!!” she hissed.

Penny got up and made his way towards the well his face expressionless.

“Oooooh boy I can already tell this is going to become a thing with him.”

“Shouldn’t have said that Ol’ Mikey is the one who really gets the adrenaline pumping then!”

“Ugh don't say it like that. I don't even think he's that attractive. He wears a William Shatner mask for fucks sake”

“I'm going to tell him you said that next time I see him!”

“DONT”

“Awwww whats the matter? S-s-s-scared Mike’s gonna come get ya?!” Freddy cackled

“I will pay you not to Fred, I'm dead serious”

“Now I know what to put in your nightmares tonight!”

“You wouldn’t”

“The clown’s off having an existential crisis you're fair game bloodsucker!”

“Are you just being a sore loser because I beat you in guitar hero? I won fair and square its not my fault you don't know all the songs.”

Freddy got up and tipped his hat to her “See you in your dreams scaredy cat”

like an evil Santa he was gone.

Leech sat alone in her room trying her hardest not to fall asleep knowing that Freddy would continue to mess with her more. She suddenly wished she could lucid dream so she could just punch him in the face next time he popped up. The vampire rolled over onto her back. “Maybe if I ate something?” she thought aloud but that would require getting up and going out. She settled on reading pulling out a book she had got from the library on Derry’s history. She liked knowing about Penny’s past exploits since he was always so cryptic with her when she asked. Plus morbid stuff was interesting.

She was on a bit about an Easter explosion, over 100 children dead at the old iron works. She chuckled to herself “Man this must have been like Christmas come early for him” she kept reading recognizing his circus cart in one picture and she started wondering to herself how the hell did Penny get that down into the sewer. Her light began to flicker and Leech groaned knowing she’d have to get up and change the bulb. Stupid old house with its stupid shotty wiring. The light completely fizzed out without warning “Just my luck” she snarled grabbing a flashlight. When she turned it on she noticed something at the foot of her bed. No, someone. She brought the light up and saw the bloody stain on the figures shirt then finally to its face. It was a child. A dead one. The child spoke softly “Hello Leech wont you come play with us!” her face slowly began to decay. Leech sat back and continued to watch the show. The ghost girl floated up and landed so she was standing on Leech’s stomach. It crouched down so it was in her face.

“Come play with us!!” It roared.

“Spooky, Like the decay it’s a nice touch.”

The ghost frowned and then opened its jaws showing millions of teeth. Its tongue snaked out holding a small silver crucifix. Leech hissed at it in anger and the charm melted, sliver splashing onto her chest causing smoke to rise from her skin. She screamed in pain and the ghost realizing it messed up began frantically trying to wipe it off her. Leech’s skin began to burn and suddenly her tank top had caught fire from the heat. The ghost became the clown, who tore the burning fabric off of his mate stomping out the flames with his large boots. Penny noticing her skin was lighting on fire now, scooped her up and ran to the bathroom tossing her in the shower and turning it on.

She was soaked her favorite sleeping shirt was ruined and there was awkward burns on her boobs. Pennywise was in DEEP trouble.

“Penny…… why the FUCK did you use an actual silver crucifix to try to scare me?!”

“I-I..um did it work?”

“WHAT DO YOU THINK DO I LOOK SCARED TO YOU?”

“Maybe the fire did alit-”

“SHUT UP. I HAVE FUCKING HAD IT UP TO HER WITH YOU TONIGHT! get me a FUCKING towel and get the FUCK out” she screamed she had never gotten this mad at him before.

“You cant kick me out I own this house.”

“OUT”

The clown vanished quickly reappearing on the couch down stairs. Where he placed his giant gloved hands over his face. She’ll be back she always calls for him to come back. Any minute now….

————

A few hours had passed and Penny was messing with Freddy and Leech’s video game trying to scare kids up way too late through their screens. She hadn't called for him back.

“Someone’s been banished to the cooouuucchh!” Chucky sang from the doorway.

“I swear if you say any more words doll…”

“Heard the screaming awhile ago what did you do? It has to be good to get kicked out of the bedroom”

The clown sighed. “I tried to scare her and I accidentally set her on fire.”

“Holy shit!” Chucky cackled “thats amazing! I cant believe you fucked up that bad Jingles!”

“Wonderful.” Penny grumbled

“Don’t sweat it clown, she’ll be begging for you back in no time. You just have to be real nice for a few days, which I know is hard for you…”

“Whats the use, my mate hates me and I'm not scary anymore.” the clown moped his head sinking low.

“Pfft yeah Kruger told me she had a freaky run in with Meyers. Whats the matter losing your edge?”

“I’m not talking about this.”

“Cheer up Jingles like I said she’ll be begging for you back eventually. Bring her some gifts or somethin. Fancy chocolate chicks like that.”

“She cant eat chocolate she’s a vampire.”

“Uuuhh one of those silver charm bracelets? I stole Tiff one last week when I was in trouble for leaving that stiff on the new rug.”

“Just found out silver lights her on- wait….that was you?”

“I cleaned it up!”

“Barely.” the clown crossed his arms and rolled over on the couch.

“Look that girls crazy about you, she’ll be hollering your name again soon Jingles. I'm telling ya makeup sex is the best!”

Penny rubbed his temples. He was not in the mood to talk about this.

“Did you at least say you were sorry?”

“No. When have I ever had to say that. I don't grovel at her feet and beg like a dog.”

“HAHAHAHA oh man your funeral buddy.”

Pennywise rolled onto his back and dramatically sunk into a crack in the couch. The last thing he heard was the doll shouting some useless romantic advice about dishes before he was back in his nest in the sewer.

————

It had been a full morning with no Pennywise breathing down Leech’s neck. Usually he’d play his own little games with her. Trying to distract her while she poured her breakfast in her favorite mug, leaving dirty suggestive things on her morning crosswords. His favorite game was trying to convince her not to go to work. He was very persuasive. This morning though the clown was completely absent, it was almost nice actually to finally have some space. Leech was able to go through her whole morning routine with no interruptions. It was going to be such a relaxing day. The vampire was thankful she had taken the day shift it was always slower and easier she was able to mingle with the customers more and pick better tasting victims for later. She’d forgive Penny tomorrow. Leech was going to enjoy her day off from him.

Today two young men walked into the bar they looked rugged and well built the type that would spend a lot of time outdoors. Chop-Top elbowed the newest waitress when he caught Leech staring at the lean body of one of the guys, the cannibal whispered something to the new girl and laughed. Penny would be pissed if he saw her right now and Leech smiled at the thought spinning a glass a bit just to show off. Oh he would be seething mad, but he deserves it after the way he'd been acting. The men left her a nice tip and the one she’d been eyeing gave her a grin as he left. He'd make a nice snack later. Chop-Top leaned against the bar “You're going to be in so much trouble” he laughed knowing how jealous his coworkers lover tended to get.

“I'm allowed to look, besides he deserves a kick in the ass. Penny’s been a huge jerk lately.”

Chop-Top scratched the metal plate under his 60s era wig as Leatherface came out of the kitchen “Hey big guy it’s a slow day mind if I take off early? We got plenty of burgers stored up from that last big weekend” Leech asked. Leatherface nodded and patted the vampires head Leech grinned “Thanks boss!” the giant leaned down and placed a hand on her shoulder looking at where the two men sat in concern “Don't worry Bubba, Pen and I are solid I'm just messing with him for setting me on fire last night”

“What happened unfortunate juggling accident?” Leatherface’s eccentric brother twirled on a bar stool with laughter and the pretty new girl came over to the bar. She was one of the local werewolves and the only one Leech tolerated…..Tolerated is a strong word it was more she was contractually obligated to not start any more fights. “You got set on fire?”

“Yes Sandy I got set on fire. You didn't notice the burns on my cleavage?” Leech rolled her eyes. this bitch talks too much.

“What cleavage?” Chop-Top joked and Leech pushed him off the stool hard.

“My new boyfriend would never do that to me! He’s such a great guy!! Don't know why you put up with that kind of behavior that clown has”

“Gee Sandy! Maybe its because I actually love him and don't plan on dumping him in two weeks. You ever try that? I know its hard for you dogs to not hump the leg of everything you see” Leech muttered after turning away from the werewolf.

“What was that?” Sandy asked.

Leatherface and Chop-Top both began pointing frantically at the employee rules behind the bar. There was a new one scribbled in red marker at the bottom saying “NO MORE BLOOD-FEUDS” the vampire groaned.

“I mean um he’s an acquired taste. You get used to it.”

“I’ll say, must be so obnoxious with all that circus shit all the time. What a fucking weirdo…Oh and those bells and that shakey high pitched voice ugh”

“I. Like. The. Circus. Shit.” the nosferatu spat her fake smile beginning to crack. No one puts Penny down but her.

“it'd drive me crazy to date a guy who wore more make up than me.”

“HIS MAKEUP IS PERFECT AND HIS VOICE IS LIKE HONEY! Shut your whore mouth! I love my clown!!” the vampire roared claws scraping into the bar.

Leatherface practically threw the rule board at Leech. “She started it!”

“Your shifts over Leech, go home and no fighting” Chop-Top pushed the vampire out the door.

“FINE!” she got on her bike and rode off.

————-

It didn't help that everything reminded her of him. Leech wanted to head straight into the nearest storm drain after that incident and forgive him just so she could feel those long arms wrap around her. She was still mad at him though, and like a child he wouldn't learn his lesson unless she stuck to her guns and gave him the silent treatment. What made it hard was the clown’s presence seemed to be EVERYWHERE today. He was probably doing this on purpose so she’d forgive him faster.”That little shit.” Leech thought to herself when she saw a missing poster with her face on it. She pulled it off the wall and read it

Missing: you

24 years old

Last seen yelling at a sweet innocent clown

description: big ears, sharp teeth and bald. Cutest vampire you'll ever see!

If found please return to the nearest sewer opening or sad lonely clown. :o(

Leech rolled her eyes at the sad faced balloon crudely drawn in the corner. “You think you can win me over by being cute you need to try harder Penny” fuck he's making this difficult for her.

She folded the paper and put it in her bag. Leech tried her best to avoid every red balloon tied to almost all the street signs she came across. Somehow she ended up in the park and the vampire decided to sit in the shadiest area she could find to avoid dealing with her clown problem at home. Leech felt the familiar cramp of hunger begin to build, tearing at her insides till she could no longer ignore it. She decided to look around the crowd for someone who wouldn't be missed.

Her sensitive hearing picked up the sound of a couple local bullies shoving a kid against a tree off in the woods. This will work. The nosferatu crept into some bushes and waited for the boys to stop their tormenting. As she waited the smell of cotton candy and blood drifted into her nose. Oh great. She looked over and Pennywise was crouched in hunting mode diagonal from her. Of course he was here, that poor boy being pushed into the tree was terrified. “I’ll just take my food and go don't even talk to him…he’s probably after the kid anyway not the teens.” she thought to herself. The vampire moved closer and a twig snapped under her knee. “SHIT” she whispered then quickly covered her mouth, the poor nosferatu was still making all kinds of rookie mistakes. The teens let go of the boy who ran out of the woods and she saw the mess of orange hair snap in her direction. “Fantastic now were both mad at each other.” she rolled her eyes.

“W-whos there?” one of the boys asked. Leech sighed and shot a claw out from her bush to drag him back into it with horrifying speed while he screamed. The other boy jumped back shrieking and fell against the tree he had pinned his own victim to only a few moments before. Sickening crunching sounds could be heard from the bush the boy’s friend had just disappeared into. The surviving bully picked up a sharp branch in an attempt to save his friend and using it like a spear he stabbed into the bush Leech was feasting in. Something caught it before it made contact with her and the vampire froze turning to see Pennywise towering over the other boy. “Its rude to disturb a girl while she's enjoying her meal.” he snarled Leech had fallen back against her snack and stared up at him both in shock and relief to see Penny decided to help her out. The clown looked over at her and gave her a cocky smirk. If he thinks he's out of the dog house for saving my ass he's so wrong. Leech stood up and sarcastically smiled back at him. “What the fuck! What the fuck is that!” the bully screamed. The boys eyes were wide with tears of sheer terror from seeing his friends blood covering the vampire’s chin and the now six foot circus demon towering over him.

“Time to float kiddo” Pennywise lunged forward and delivered a perfect killing blow, dropping the body with a thud on the dirt. He turned to his vampire and gave a cocky grin. “SoooOOO….whats a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

“Cute. You use that line on all the flesh eating women you meet?” Leech rolled her eyes.

“Just the pretty ones like yourself my dear….. you going to finish that?” he pointed at the body next to her.

“I’m not giving you my meal and I'm still not talking to you” Leech crossed her arms and turned her head away from Pennywise trying not to get stuck in his golden stare.

“You’re talking to me right now though!” the clown strolled over to her and tilted her chin up to meet his gaze with a single gloved finger.

“Yeah well…. only cause you saved my ass….so thanks…asshole.” Leech glared at him. Penny sensed her beginning to break.

“My my little firecracker, is that any way to treat your rescuer? I think I deserve more thanks than that” he pulled her closer to him so she could feel his hot breath on her cold lips.

“You’re not getting any. You’ve been a dick lately” Leech looked away from him trying her best to hide the creeping blush on her hollow cheeks

“Then why aren't you trying to get away?” he was inches away from her now. Shit

“I hate you” Leech snarled and closed her eyes “Mmmmm I hate you more” his soft lips pressed against hers. Stupid clown. The vampire ran a claw through his hair pulling him into her to deepen the kiss Pennywise purred with victory. Leech unceremoniously pushed him off her with a huff facing away from him to hide the fact she was about to start grinning like a school girl. Pennywise snickered.

“You know, you're lucky I didn't punish you for chasing off my initial meal with your stupid mistakes.”

“Not everyone can be as perfect as you, I'm still learning. Give me a break.”

“Aww you're right I am perfect!” he smirked at his on lame joke.

“You're a narcissist is what you are.” Leech grumbled.

“I thought you weren't talking to me.”

“You’re right I'm not…I’m… you just….fuck….you’re so fucking frustrating you know that?” pennywise snarled and pinned her against the tree.

“Likewise bloodsucker. You have no idea how much you torment me.”

“At least I don't light you on fire when my ego’s bruised”

“At least I have an ego. Pitiful little thing, if you spent half the time you spend moping around on practice you wouldn't need me to save you from these situations.”

“I don’t need you to come save me I can take care of myself” Leech snarled back.

“That boy nearly impaled you. If I hadn't shown up you'd be one step away from losing that pretty head of yours. You're lucky I like you so much.”

Leech shoved him back “Yeah but you didn’t do it for me did you! I know you too well. You did it because you thought I’d stop being mad at you.” she took a bold step forward. Too bold. “Selfish prick… you know perfectly well I would have been fine. Stop trying to scare me with that you “would have died” bullshit I'm not in the mood.”

The clown slammed her into a tree with a growl fully pissed off now.

“Stupid girl. Do I need to show you how much I care again?” Pennywise roared his claws splintering into the tree behind her. “Go ahead” she grinned  “but you still wont be man enough to ever say you're sorry to my face.” What a brat. She was completely right of course, but still her attitude was definitely in need of adjusting. He hated when she was right.

The clown placed a knee between her legs and grabbed her neck bringing her close to him again. Leech whimpered a bit when he licked her neck and chin with greed. He groped her body possessively touching her in any way that he wanted to and the vampire glared at him trying everything she could to hide the flush of ichor under the skin of her cheeks. He was being an ass but she loved it when he got worked up like this. Stupid clown. When he kissed her again Leech moaned into his mouth pulling his waist so his hips pressed against hers. Penny had the hem of her pants in his claws prepared to rip them off until he sniffed the air and paused more humans.

“Hello? Miss you ok?” a mans voice rang out in the woods. He couldn't see the clown or the bodies Penny had hidden them, but he left Leech. Lets see how she does without him there to save her now.

Leech's eyes widened oh shit it's the guy from the bar. Shit, shit, shit!!! Penny glanced over at her and sneered “Friend of your’s darling?”

“Hey! Its you! What’s a pretty little bartender doing way out here in these woods?”

Pennywise bared his fangs in jealousy. Oh she did know him. “Yeah what are you doing out here Leech” he turned to her with an evil grin

“Oh um nothing really”

“Just fucking my lover in the woods.” Pennywise mocked her. Leech wanted to die at this point.

“JUST GOING ON A HIKE” she yelled over the clown.

“You uh seem a bit roughed up you ok?” walked over to touch her arm and she pulled back.

“Fine! I'm fine! Tripped on a rock silly me! I must have weak knees!”

“Yeah clowns seem to make them shake like a leaf” Pennywise smirked enjoying his little test.

“Want me to take a look at it?” the man asked,

“I’ll..I’ll be ok” thats a lie, she was far from ok right now especially since Penny was now running a gloved hand down the small of her back and attempting to stuff said hand down the back of her pants.

“Well in that case forgive me if I'm being too forward but my friend and I are here for a couple days while we prep for a backpacking trip. I’d love to get your number so we could hang out sometime.”

This poor boy just signed his own death certificate. He was nice too, if Leech wasn't involved with Penny she might have even said yes. He’ll make a nice meal though, she didn't get to finish her’s after all. Pennywise walked behind the man and bared his fangs snapping his jaws near his head to show Leech what he planned on doing with him after she was gone. She gave the clown a look that said Not today Pennywise. “I’m actually already seeing someone-“ she paused an evil thought entering her mind and the vampire grinned at the clown wickedly “sorta… we’re having a big fight right now really.” Penny’s playful expression dropped. She wouldn't dare.

“Oh thats a shame you're more than welcome to talk about it, I'm Brad by the way”

“Lee-Lucy! I’m Lucy”

“You're mine is what you are.” Penny walked over to her and ran his fingers roughy along his mark on her neck. Leech swatted him away.

“So tell me dear Lucy, why would this guy of your’s ever want to make you upset? If you were my girl I would treat you like a princess”

Leech shot Penny another look that said “See? A princess!” Pennywise glared at her more.

“Well, it started as a practical joke gone wrong. Now its more about how he's being a selfish  asshole”

“Well you're very cute a girl like you shouldn't have to put up with that”

“You think I'm attractive?” Leech laughed in surprise. Pennywise was fuming. “Huh I rarely ever hear that these days.” Leech looked directly into the clowns eyes.

“Absolutely, I have a thing for girls like yourself.” he chuckled and took a step closer to her. Wrong move buddy.

“Well um thanks…..don't think you'd like the real me though”

“What are you getting at Leech” Penny snarled.

Brad took her hand and Leech saw the clown twitch. “Nonsense. That guy of your’s doesn't know how lucky he is to have you.” this poor sweet boy is a walking corpse at this point. Brad leaned in while stared at Leech’s lips as if asking to kiss her.

“Dont even think about it” Pennywise’s eyes were blood red.

“Well thank you for the kind words” Leech turned away. Maybe she took this too far. She saw Penny struggling to hold his clown form together his face beginning to split. The human grabbed her chin to turn her face back to him and she glared. Ok buddy you've overstayed your welcome.  Leech looked over to Penny and winked the clown narrowed his eyes. Suddenly Brad began to kiss her and the vampire snarled with rage, she bit clear through his lip sucking in the sweet blood. Brad screamed and staggered back. Leech laughed removing her wig to free her large bat like ears, she let her front fangs extend and brought her long red tongue out to lick up the blood on her chin. Pennywise hid the small half smile that threatened to break through his scowl. He did love to watch her work after all. Brad screamed in terror and disgust “Whats the matter baby? Thought you said I was beautiful.” she laughed as Pennywise made him self visible behind her the clown was still twitching a bit. “Hiya Brad!”

“What the fuck is that! What the fuck are you?”

“This is that boyfriend I was talking about dear. He’s not very happy about what you did. Neither am I.”

“That thing? You're dating that thing?”

Pennywise grunted.

“He's a clown not a thing Brad, and yes I love him… even when he's being a jerk” she elbowed Penny hard and he elbowed her back with a huff.

“You're still not letting that go are you?” the clown side eyed her.

“No Penny I’m not, you can either swallow your pride and apologize or let me eat this guy and leave”

“Wait eat me?!”

Pennywise growled at his vampire “Don't interrupt Brad. And I have nothing to be sorry for, you're the one letting some filthy human touch you.”

“For the record I didn't want the kiss that was our friend taking it a bit too far. But you deserve it anyway after the way you’ve been acting. Biting me, lighting me on fire, all because I said someone else scared me one time? You have some serious jealousy issues.”

“Wow I’ll say”

“Shut up Brad!” Leech hissed “You could at least start with an apology Pen, but instead you just act like what you did was perfectly justified. PLUS at least the human can give me a compliment every now and then you selfish prick!”

Penny turned to growl at her more but the frantic shuffling of fleeing feet drew his attention away. He snarled at the direction of the running human and turned to Leech “I’ll be back for you.”

“Go ahead I'm still not going to talk to you until you say you're sorry though!” The nosferatu yelled.

The clown glared and vanished. When she was finally alone Leech let out a roar in frustration. Fucking egotistical inter-dimensional clown. She cried by herself for a bit the weather becoming dark and stormy as a result. The vampire left her tears in the dirt and started to head home unaware of her clown watching her silently from the shadows. He hated seeing her upset and he knew was the one who caused it. He held up Brads detached head “Ok maybe you're both right I’ve been a bit of a “jerk” lately.” he made the head nod in agreement. “Shall I try getting her back then, my way?” the head nodded no. “You would say that Brad….you stole your taste and look where that got you hmm? I'm not giving in to her little apology game.” he turned the head to look at him “Yes I know I miss her terribly. Is that what you want to hear? You're dead I don't have to listen to you” Penny tossed the head behind him and ended his macabre one sided puppet show. The clown sunk into the shadows to plan.

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I headcannon Penny talking to his victims when he’s bored. Just having weird one sided convos with corpses. Also fun fact one of the horror movies that messed me up when I was a youth was Halloween. It didn't fuck me up as bad as Nightmare on Elm ST did but it fucked me up pretty good. Ironically Nightmare became one of my all time favorites but Halloween never really caught on for me. Just not a big fan of the silent killers beyond Leatherface I guess. Next chapter is gonna get FUN.

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