#snap that child’s back. goldfish!

[bean-galleria]

I blame my gym teacher for my ED. It started as “oh I’ll do a workout every day so for a gym credit because I don’t want to fail.” Now I’m being assessed by an ED treatment facility.

#snap that child’s back. goldfish! #i freaking hate giraffes #mentally ill #dark humor #im mcfucking losing it #it’s past my bedtime #ana menes #ed menes #tw ana related #ana recovery #anarec1a #4n4m14

[myfriendthecouch]

#meme #not my meme #not mine #snap that child’s back #goldfish #crackers #goldfish crackers

[dilatorywriting]

Oh, 4k? Hold up then, looks like you dropped this 👑👑👑

CONGRATS TO YOU, ONE OF THE BEST WRITERS HERE!! If I could partake in the event, I'd love something with Riddle and prompt 17; love my short red angry king and alice in wonderland in its entirety tbh. If the Reader could be a bit of a rule breaker too and have known Riddle since childhood that'd be awesome as well. Again tho CONGRATULATIONS!! HOPE NOTHING BUT THE GOOD STUFF FOR YOU!

Gender Neutral Reader x Riddle Rosehearts Word Count: 2.3k

Prompt 17: "I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do."

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

You were annoying.

At least, that was the kindest way his mother described it. And Riddle would have to agree. Always hanging over his shoulder like some overeager parrot and rattling off nonsense into his ear just as loudly. He was hardly allowed out to the park—mother said his studies were far too important, and even as a child Riddle certainly agreed. Mostly, at least. Enough to never argue—but when he did get time to sit out in the sun under the shade of the grand, painted trees, you were always there.

A bother, a nuisance. Sticky fingered with the remnants of swiped tarts and chattering on, and on, and on.

“I tried to follow a rabbit,” you said, rolling around in the dirt like a heathen. Weren’t you worried your parents would scold you for mucking up the smooth, blue fabric of your jacket? “But it ran too fast and I fell. Do you think I could catch it with a net, maybe?”

“Hopped,” Riddle correctly, stiffly. “Rabbits hop.”

“Well this one ran,” you argued back. “Faster than a car. Faster than a cheetah.”

“Cars are faster than cheetahs,” he said, turning to the next page of his book. “So grammatically you should have put that part second.”

You flopped back onto your stomach and pulled yourself to your knees, before scuttling behind his back and peering over his shoulder.

“How can you pay attention to a book with no pictures in it?”

He hunched up his shoulders and you dropped your chin down with a bonk. Refusing to budge.

“Some of us don’t have the attention span of goldfish,” he sneered, turning his nose up at you.

“Well, if I could only think as much as a goldfish, I wouldn’t want to waste it on that,” you snipped back. “Doing homework in a park. What are you, a robot?”

“I’m efficient!” he snapped. “Mother says I shouldn’t waste time on frivolities.” On things like you, he doesn’t say. A part of him wants to. The part that sounds like biting words and a sharp, firm voice demanding he get to bed by 7pm unless he wants to rot his brain. Another part is… is worried that you might not like that. And then you’d just get even more annoying.

You reached around and snagged the textbook out of his hands with an audible ‘yoink!’ and immediately ran off at full speed. Which is never fair! Because you’re used to climbing up trees, and sprinting through mud, and scaling boulders like a wild beast. And Riddle is—Riddle isn’t! He would never! So it takes him an age to catch up to you. By the time he does, he’s huffing, and puffing, and as red as his hair.

“Don’t do that!” he snapped, livid. “Ever again!”

“Alright,” you shrugged, a loose grin on your mouth as you returned your pilfered treasure. You’ve barely even broken a sweat. “I won’t bother you during homework, Riddle.”

Which is… That’s certainly what he wanted Of course it was. But it made something in his stomach drop nonetheless. Probably because you’d just find new ways to be irritating. Yes. That’s certainly why.

The first time he felt it was on his twelfth birthday.

He’d tried so hard. And he’d done so well. His exams had all come back with perfect scores, his projects and papers immaculately graded. He’d been going to bed on time every night, combing his hair exactly how his mother liked, even folding his clothes into perfectly pressed little squares. She’d seen it in one of her cleanliness magazines and had lamented how nice the style looked for something so tedious. But Riddle had learned. And now his closet looked as tidy as a militia.

“Can I go? Trey’s whole family will be there. And it’s just dinner. Fully monitored!” he reassured, fighting the urge to twist his hands behind his back. “Please?”

“Of course not,” his mother droned, not even looking up from her laptop. “You’ve been doing well, but we don’t want you slipping up, now do we?”

“But—” he started, and her eyes cut up to him like daggers. A warning. “…of course, mother.”

“Good boy,” she smiled, with that smile that was never really a smile. “Now go up to your room. You can have an extra half hour of free time today,” she said, like it was something worth celebrating. “For my special birthday boy.”

Riddle had sat in his bed wishing he’d never known what a birthday was at all. And then there was a tapping at his window.

He opened it in shock, to see you hanging off the edge like a particularly determined cockroach. Which was—! No! It wasn’t safe! And you were going to get him in trouble, and—

But instead of opening that stupid, fat mouth of yours and letting of your siren call of a laugh—summoning every sensible adult in a five-mile radius to come checking for delinquents—you simply swung around a bit to reach back into your jacket pocket. Riddle almost lurched forward when he saw your fingers scrabble a bit along the ledge. Ready to fall. But then you righted yourself and gently deposited a little, paper-wrapped parcel atop of the smooth surface.

And then you shot him a wink and disappeared from view, no doubt scuttling back down the siding like the demon you were.

He approached it hesitantly, like one would an active bomb. He carefully peeled back the sticky tape and smoothed out the edges of the sloppily wrapped package. Inside was a small, round strawberry tart. Freshly baked, by the smell of it. And the waft of warm, soft steam curling up from the flaking crust. With a little note tucked beside it in your chicken scratch. A lopsided smiley face doodled at the corner, beaming up at a hastily scrawled ‘Happy Birthday, Riddle!’

He took a small bite of the little, perfect treat and his eyes burned. Something in his chest gave a worrying thump-thump.

‘Oh my god,’ he thought in a panic. ‘The idiot poisoned me.’

But aside from the horribly loud ticking of his heart, nothing else seemed to go awry. He ate the rest of the tart in silence, feeling lightheaded and far too warm. He wondered if maybe his mother was right about sugar and myocardial infarction after all.

Riddle didn’t see much of you the next few years. His mother doubled down on his study times, and he wasn’t even allowed to spend time with someone as responsible as Trey anymore. Let alone the person his parent had deemed ‘a menace upon polite society.’ The next time he saw you—really saw you. Not just your hurried waves from across the street or the trace ends of your bubbling laugh from around a corner—was when the Royal Sword Academy’s students had descended upon Night Raven for the VDC.

You were chattering away with Che’nya, the pair of you looking equally as mused and ridiculous. All splashes of raucous color and uniforms so out of place that one would hardly be able tell what institution you were meant to be a part of at all. For a moment he thought you’d walk right past. It’d been years, after all. And certainly you’d moved on to bothering some new stick in the mud.

But then you saw him and your eyes lit up. His chest gave another of those terrible thump-thumps.

“Riddle!” you all but screamed. And launched yourself at him like a feral cat. “How are you! Your hair is so neat! Did you grow out your bangs? Oh! Look at your cape! So cool! Did you know that we don’t get capes? I think that’s a crime. Especially with how yours looks,” you rambled on. And despite that lingering thread of him that demanded that you must be annoying, because that’s what you were. Loud, and uncouth, and everything he’d been raised to not be. The rest of him was… Warm. And happy, to hear the familiar chatter back in his ear.

He scoffed, hoping it would cover the noise of his pounding heart. “No one in their right mind would trust you with a cape. You’d get caught on every door in existence.”

“Oh, that’s fair,” you agreed on a nod. “But surely a top hat, at least?”

And then you were back in his life like you’d never left to begin with. Or, well, like he’d never left you.

Showing up at Unbirthday Parties with the tackiest serving plates and even worse outfits. Telling him all about the rabbit you finally managed to catch, and how it does run, Riddle. I swear. Bringing him trinkets you’d found in small shops that had no practical purpose to speak of. Breaking every rule in the Queen’s Book and smacking yourself on the forehead each time he shouted a stern reminder. You even bought a little notepad to jot down his instructions. But all it ended up being good for was an ever growing pile of doodles and little, folded, origami animals that he’d find tucked all around his room like secrets.  

And amidst all of this, that thumping, bumping pressure in his chest just kept getting worse.

It was a warm day, not unlike the one all those years ago where you’d plunked yourself on his shoulder and stolen the textbook right out of his hands. Now you had your own book to read, some monstrosity on analyzing ravens and writing desks, with your head precariously close to his lap but not there. He didn’t even know why that bothered him.

“This book is too complicated,” you complained. And Riddle fought the urge to point out you were holding it upside down. “Both have quills. Is that so hard to understand?”

“That makes no sense,” he argued back.

“Of course it does,” you said, perfectly pleasant and sure of yourself. “But you know everything, so you really ought to know that too.”

He snorted. “I do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not.”

“What’s fifteen times thirty-four.”

“That’s not knowing. That’s just math,” he argued. “And it’s five-hundred and ten.”

“See,” you poked. “I knew you’d know it.” You rolled over to stretch out on your stomach—reaching forward to twist a long blade of grass between your fingers. “You always know what to do.”

Something in his stomach turned unpleasantly at that. Had he known what to do when he’d cowed to his mother’s commands and cut you from his life? Had he known best when he’d turned away from your warm greetings and friendly overtures to hide away behind the unsurmountable walls of expectation? Worse over, did you think that he thought all those things were… for the best? That he’d wanted to push you aside like all your cheerful banter and sweet attempts to brighten his dull, miserable life had been worth nothing.  

“That’s not true,” he finally said, stilted and near whisper quiet.

You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked at him with a curious tilt of the head.

“Of course it is,” you blinked, guileless and genuine. Smiling up at him from your place in the grass with that familiar, twisty little grin on your mouth and a brightness in your eyes that never seemed to dim.

“It’s not,” he said, a bit firmer. And his gaze flickered off away from yours. “I think I’m in love with you, and I don’t know what to do about it at all.”

Riddle wasn’t sure what he was expecting. Silence, maybe. The horrible, awkward, biting sort that ate away at his soul like a rat gnawing through his bones. Maybe you’d laugh at him, in that bubbling, carefree way of yours, and tell him that you thought one of those rules of his was never to lie on a Thursday afternoon. That would hurt worse than the silence, he thought.

But instead you just rolled back over with a flick of your wrist, like you were gossiping about the weather.

“Then love me,” you said, simple. “I love you. It only seems fair.”

“…oh,” he spluttered, face lighting up crimson and warm.

You hummed, as if in agreement. But to what he wasn’t sure. You looked him over for a minute, like you were searching for something. And then you reached for his sweaty hand with your own and twined your fingers there in the grass.

“If everything always made sense, nothing would be what it is because everything would be what it isn't,” you said, like that was supposed to make any sense at all. “And contrariwise, what it is, it wouldn't be, and what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?"

“What on earth are you on about?” he gaped.

You burst into delighted giggles and tucked your nose against his hip. “Silly, silly. Stop trying to analyze everything, yes? It will only make things more confusing.”

You sighed and stretched, a contented smile on your lips. You reached up to tap a finger against his nose.

“Things don’t always have to make sense. That’s what makes it fun. And, well, if you’re really that determined to be able to figure out how things are supposed to go, we can do that later, yes?”

“…Right,” he managed to eek out after a long moment. Feeling far too light and far too… too something. “Later. There will be a later.”

And as much as that would have felt like a lie all those years ago—had been a lie even—when he said it now you looked up at him like he’d hung the stars in the sky. And he couldn’t help but hope for all the tomorrows in the world.

.

.

#4k Event #twisted wonderland imagines #twst x reader #Riddle Rosehearts x Reader #Riddle x Reader #Riddle Rosehearts #My Writing #Writing Prompts

[lordkairos3626]

Snap that child’s back! (Goldfish)

#*posts that I obtained cinder and then vanishes* #ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #ninjago cinder

[nerves-nebula]

I am violent and ill.

My anger drives me so greatly it makes my stomach churn and I grow nauseous.

I am sick and it fuels a fire that sits in my guts and gives me a desire to rip and break and scream.

I am broken in a way that he can’t even see as useful.

Leo is studious.

Raph is caring.

Donnie is quiet.

I am a mistake.

(Does he even remember saying that?)

I cannot be what he wants me to be and it burns inside me and I can’t let it out or I will die.

Will I die?

When will I die?

Donnie is ill.

His illness makes him silent, makes him cry. He buries his face in books and screens and underneath blankets. He sobs with his whole body yet makes no sound. His soul is ripped open and his skin is carved through and I help him bandage the wounds.

I am not ill like Donnie.

Raph is ill.

His illness eats at his stomach and yet refuses food. He forces himself to care for us even as he suffers. He buries himself in the feeling of hunger and pain until his stomach devours his mind and he loses his ability to remember the pain.

I am not ill like Raph.

Leo is ill.

He doesn’t know it. He doesn’t recognize the signs. The way he pushed himself past his limits, snaps and breaks things that immediately he regrets. He sinks into himself and gains a blank look in his eyes that speaks to the pain he feels.

I am not ill like Raph.

Splinter is ill.

I am ill like Splinter.

I am ill like a man who forces his problems onto the innocent. He breaks and shouts and regrets nothing. He hurts my brothers, hurts me, and he scoffs.

I want to hurt him like he hurts us.

I want to kill him.

I want to feel his blood on my hands and the thought doesn’t even scare me.

It should scare me.

I should be scared to hurt the man who raised me.

He gave me nunchucks.

“An inelegant and ridiculous weapon for an inelegant and ridiculous child.” He said.

I want to take the chain and wrap it around his throat.

I want to take the ends and slam them into his skull.

I am sick.

I am sick and it only makes me angrier.

I am sick and it only makes me angrier and that anger makes me sick.

I want to kill him.

I splash paint on a canvas, shoving my hands into the buckets, forgoing brushes altogether.

My hands are stained with the pigments.

Blues and purples and reds.

My claws chip and crack.

Greens and browns and yellows.

Blood does not dry red.

It stains and turns brown as it cloys and thickens.

Then black as it gathers the dust and dirt of the world around it.

I sew the canvas closed where my nails break through. The hole will never heal, will always been seen, and I want to break it further.

Reds and browns and blacks.

I want to rip and shred with my claws, their edges jagged and broken. I want to see what color he bleeds. I want to know if its red. I want to watch it clump and turn brown and black against stark white canvas.

I am violent and ill.

I am my father’s son.

I need a nap.

——

Having a bad mental health day means I have inspiration to write angst for the babies.

I’d love to do more Mikey studies for this universe. He’s complex and broken and I love him.

-Monster Anon 🐗

VERY RELATABLE also GODDAMN. At this point why dont YOU just write the iteration haha. I love making Mikey the angriest one tbh. Everyone thinks its raph cause raph has resting bitch face, and cause Raph snaps in anger a lot, but the one with the bubbling hatred underneath his skin is our beautiful little goldfish boy <3

loved all the descriptions of violence tbh. reminds me of how furious i would get back when i lived with my family, especially with my brother. if im still honest i kind of regret not stabbing him, but i know it was for the best that I didn't. oh well!

#nnstuff #ask #teenage mutant neglected turtles #neglected fic #tmnt mikey

[misteria247]

Thinking about Rise Raph and how calm he is throughout most of the series and it hit me that even though he doesn't get angry, angry there are hints of his temper that pop through if you really pay attention. For example:

The pizza puff episode.

During this episode Raph does get irritated by his brothers and their rather thoughtless decisions. So much so that he literally looks like he's trying to mentally tell himself to keep his cool.

The Rise movie.

During the conversation with Leo and Leo not taking Raph seriously we see for a brief moment that spark of his hot temper when he literally punches Leo through the door with his mystics because he was irritated at not being taken seriously.

The bugs episode.

Throughout this episode there are hints of Raph's temper whenever he and Leo start their disagreements. You can see that Leo not listening to him makes Raph a bit annoyed and he gets irritated by it. That by the end of the episode when Leo's held over the roof he immediately disagrees with Leo's idea about handing the bugs over to Draxum.

The mystic library episode.

At the end of the episode when Mayhem again teleports himself into another mirror Raph almost immediately gets annoyed and ticked and says he's smashing the mirror this time followed by the sounds of shattering glass.

The mutated goldfish episode.

When Donnie starts his dramatics and tries to shock their father's fish back to life and gets stopped by his brothers and he starts to go on about how his brothers are more like roommates Raph intervenes in a snappy warning way towards Donnie to knock it off with his middle child nonsense.

There's probably a few others as well but these are just the ones I can think of at the top of my head. Rise Raph still very much has the signature Raphael Hamato temper, it just comes in quick waves of irritation or annoyance before he taps it down. Unlike his other counterparts Raph is the oldest of his siblings and not the second oldest. Which means that he much like the counterparts of Leo had to learn early on to keep his temper in check. Because he's the oldest and him getting angry at his younger brothers was probably something that was severely frowned upon by their dad so he had to learn to keep his head. And as a result he became the much more cooler tempered snapping turtle we all know and love. However that temper is still there. It just takes more to get him to completely lose it.

It's honestly fascinating.

#oli talks #ooc #muns ramblings #mindless ramblings of a madman #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt movie spoilers #tmnt raph #rottmnt raph #Raphael Hamato #was just thinking about it and wanted to share it with y'all #tmnt leo #rottmnt leo #tmnt donnie #rottmnt donnie #tmnt mikey #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt draxum #rottmnt spoilers #like it's honestly really interesting the approach to his temper in Rise

[angelicyouth]

Parallel ; Chapter 2

⇢ pairing: stan marsh x mccormick!reader

⇢ genre: fake dating ; hogwarts AU

⇢ synopsis: ❝Transferring to Hogwarts during your fifth year, you were excited at the prospect of all the new potential eye candy to choose from. That dream gets crushed, however, when your childhood enemy impulsively claims you as his girlfriend.❞

⇢ warning: underaged drinking

⇢ [AO3 link] ; [series masterlist] ; [previous] ; [next]

You stare in child-like wonder as you watch the snowflakes begin to gently float down from the sky, a soft giggle escaping from your upturned lips when one delicately perches itself on the tip of your frost-bitten nose. Longer fingers begin to intertwine with yours in your momentary distraction, Stan tugging your body closer to his as he begins to blow some warm air onto your joined hands.

Giving them a quick rub, he then places your interlocked fingers into the pocket of his robe as you watch with amused eyes at his unprompted chivalry. It was strange—watching the kid who used to think he could gain the memories of the shrimp he ate in his fried rice whenever you guys got Chinese food evoke butterflies like this.

He doesn't bother sparing you a glance as he speaks up, “What? I know that you have to look at yourself everyday in the mirror but you should be used to the ugliness by now to not be so mesmerized by someone with actual good looks.”

The moment is ruined as you loudly scoff, roughly trying to yank your hand away from his when his deep laughter cuts through the air at the disgusted sneer that begins to form on your lips. “I’m kidding! You look beautiful today, my love.”

Your feet clumsily stutters to a stop at the whiplash you get from the sudden compliment, Stan gently lifting your smaller hand towards his lips at the sight of vermillion quickly spreading across your cheeks. He presses a light kiss against your knuckles, slowly dragging the heated point of contact until it reaches the rapidly beating pulse on your inner wrist.

You can feel his smile on your skin as he lingers there for a moment before raising his eyes to meet yours, his voice soft at the suddenly intimate atmosphere that his actions grant. “I’m so lucky because you always do. I must’ve saved the world or something equally remarkable in my past life for whatever higher deity deemed me deserving of a girl like you.”

The ravenette shoots you a charming smirk when a group of Hufflepuff’s pass by the both of you, their high-pitched giggling snapping you out of the hypnotic hold of your pretend lover. 

Ah. Fake boyfriend has to play the part in public… Right.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

“Where the hell are we going? I know your sense of direction is heavily impaired from all the times Aunt Sharon not-so-accidentally dropped you on the head as a kid, Stanley, but Honeydukes is that way.” You condescendingly say in a sickly-sweet voice when you see your safe haven steadily disappear from sight, the tall ravenette dragging you in the opposite direction.

The Gryffindor scoffs at your words, his eyes rolling as he begins to purposefully guide your body into a lamppost in retribution for your words. “Yeah? Well I’m glad that your memory is past the capacity of a fucking goldfish to remember our deal but I also promised you a date at Madam Puddifoot’s, remember?”

“You don’t actually have to take me there.” You spit back as you muster up all of your strength to pull your boyfriend’s larger form against the metal pole instead, a bunch of patrons strolling on the streets shooting the pair of you weird looks as they avoid your general vicinity.

“No shit, it’s just for appearances. Don’t worry though, I said I’d treat you out so lunch is on me.” He grits back out, your intertwined hands now painfully digging into the lamppost as you both switch your childish competition into stubbornly trying to get the other to give up and let go first.

(Neither of you win because a shopkeeper ends up yelling at the two of you for being bad for business, your rivalry repelling potential customers as it plays out at the front of their humble establishment.)

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

“What can I get started for you two?” Your waitress politely asks as Stan takes a quick moment to scan the menu, ultimately deciding on a classic once his options were laid out. 

“Two orders of hot chocolate, please. No whipped cream in mine but extra for my girlfriend—she needs a little extra sugar.” The ravenette says in a tone of faux innocence as he sends you a sly look from the corner of his eyes, as if daring you to argue.

“We’ll also have a selection of finger sandwiches for two and a slice of every cake you have today.” You quickly bite out, sending your boyfriend a dirty look before looking back at the employee with a sweet expression on your face. “Oh, and a side salad for him—he’s watching his figure.”

After the last of the savory food and array of dessert that you both ordered gets placed on the tabletop in between you two, you waste no time in digging in as you happily hum around the beautiful mirage of flavors in your mouth. But your chewing comes to a stop when you catch the Gryffindor in front of you staring with a foreign expression on his face, your hand shooting out to wipe around the vicinity of your mouth for any possible crumbs.

A corner of Stan’s lips quirks up at your frantic actions before he brings a ring adorned hand up, his thumb grazing the side of your lips so lightly that its touch is almost nonexistent. You feel as if you’re in a trance when you attentively watch him bring the aforementioned finger to his own mouth, his tongue quickly darting out at the smear of frosting with his eyes alight in mirth.

“What’s wrong, McCormick?” His voice is so low, almost a whisper in its taunts when he catches sight of your slightly parted lips.

“Don’t do that shit again—I know you don’t always wash your hands after using the bathroom, nasty ass.” You force your eyes back on the abandoned confection laid in front of you, snarking the ravenette with the embarrassing admission he made when you all went to the waterpark as kids.

“Oh fuck off, dickface! Says the one who didn’t know what a thot was and cried like a bitch when you called your mom one because Cartman told you that it meant a thoughtful person.” In response to his words, you bring a booted foot backwards to gain further momentum before kicking him on the shin from underneath the table.

“Did you just call me a bitch? Are you insinuating that crying holds a negative connotation in which your sexism identifies with the female species?“ You quickly pull out your cell phone, a few customers in the shop staring at your muggle device as you obnoxiously stick it in Stan’s face.

“Come on, Marsh! Say that one more time for me on camera. It’s time the people finally got to know who you really are and cancel the shit out of you!” 

A pretty pink begins to tint the Gryffindor’s cheeks at the growing attention of others as people begin to stare from out on the streets, watching the two of you from the store’s window. He tries to push your hand away, your laughter unashamedly echoing out into the room at the embarrassment you’re causing him.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, okay? Fuck, stop it!” Luckily for your boyfriend, your stomach begins to hurt from all the giggles escaping your lips as your hands lower down to wrap around your waist in a futile attempt to soothe the pain.

When your amusement finally dies down and the older teen has deemed the amount of minutes he spends giving you the silent treatment enough, Stan picks up conversation once more. “You know, I was prepared to convince you more in helping me win back Wendy. I figured you’d fight for her after how upset you were that I ruined her attempt to ask you out.”

“You saying that she’s your ex is enough for me to not be interested. The fuck is she thinking if she liked you enough to be your girlfriend? That’s all the information I need to know that her taste is utter fucking trash.”

“Fuck you! You’re dating me right now, dumbass!”

“Yeah, as your pretend girlfriend! Don’t get it twisted, Marsh. I know its hard but it’d be messy as fuck if you fell for my irresistably good looks and charm. Let’s not forget that this is fake and the only way you’d get me to date your ass.” Your snark around a bite of cake, your head soon lifting up from the treat you were nibbling on when your companion doesn't say a word back after a few seconds. 

Your eyes slightly widen when you see the clenched jaw of the ravenette sitting in front of you and the dark look in his cerulean eyes, confusion sweeping through your body at the unknown expression on his face. He doesn’t break eye contact with you as his larger hand reaches out to take hold of your lifted wrist, slowly guiding your fork into his mouth as he begins to wrap his lips around the baked dessert propped up on the utensil. 

It's almost hypnotic as your eyes slightly lower to watch as his throat shifts to swallow, your breath slightly hitching when you see his tongue dart out to leisurely lick the icing clean off of the fork. Once the utensil is rid of the sugary concoction, he lowers it back down on the plate to grab another piece before offering you a bite.

You obediently open your mouth as the sweetness overtakes your senses, the ravenette watching before his eyes drop down to your lips once more. Figuring that you probably got something around your mouth again, you compliantly lean your body forward to get cleaned when you see his hand begin to reach out towards your face.

However, his fingers gently caress the side of your cheek as they guide your head even closer to his, the Gryffindor holding eye contact with you for a charged second as the space between you two begins to diminish. There’s a questioning look in your eyes as a heated moment passes by, an attractive smirk all you can see before he closes the distance to languidly drag his tongue against your lips.

When your breath hitches in surprise, you’re rewarded with a handsome smile before he dives back in and connects his lips with yours. You’re not granted even a second to register what’s happening before his mouth fluidly moves against your own, your head beginning to get light from the overload of sensations you’re suddenly feeling right now.

The way the hand caressing your face gets firmer as you become increasingly pliant in his touch, his teasing made apparent even now as he draws out each movement for as long as possible—biting and licking your lips in a way that leaves you wanting more. Every kiss lights a fire in its wake, heating up your body and generating an excited thrum with each goosebump he elicits.

Your head begins to spin as you become steadily aware of every point of contact between the two of you, the way his tongue feverishly works against yours and coaxes it into a familiar battle of domination. His teeth begins to tug on your lower lip, a whine involuntarily escaping your rappidly heaving mouth as you can just feel the smirk forming on his own.

He keeps his face close to yours when you reluctantly part, your quick breaths mingling with one another as your lungs desperately take reprieve at your separation. Your voice is close to a whisper in the otherwise loud store as you press your forehead against his, “What was that for?”

“... Wendy was watching.” His azure eyes languidly scan over your wrecked form, a lazy smile accompanying the smug expression on his face before he cuts off your response with another kiss.

When you leave the shop later on, you can’t help but to notice that you don’t see your boyfriend’s ex seated anywhere.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

“Why the fuck is it so cold? You’d think growing up in South Park all my life would’ve prepared me for this shit but my balls are as shriveled as the raisins Tolkien puts in his oatmeal.” Decked out from head to toe in full winter apparel, Kenny can’t see the disgusted expression forming on Kyle’s scarf-hidden face.

“Hey, Butters. Does the front of my pants look less full? I don’t want the ladies to think—” 

“Shut the fuck up!” You instinctively dodge the hand that angrily shoots out across the front of your face, the ushanka wearing teen roughly grabbing onto your elder brother’s scarf in an attempt to asphyxiate him for his blatant vulgarness. 

Slender fingers gently settle themselves around the earmuffs you wear, Tweek making sure that your ears are fully protected from the frosted winds invoking goosebumps to run along your arms. You offer him an affectionate smile at his constantly caring virtue, the grin being returned against the skin of your forehead from the fond peck he gives you as you burrow your pink nose into your knitted scarf.

“It’s not even a Slytherin match, I don’t know why the fuck we have to suffer in the cold just to watch Clyde be a fucking simp and get distracted by the whores in the stands.” Cartman grouchily mutters, his mitted hands curled around a can of diet mountain dew as if the cold beverage were a mug of hot chocolate to warm him up.

“It’s common courtesy!” Butters enthusiastically pipes up, his arms wrapped around one of yours to further generate some heat between the two of you. Resting against his legs on the floor of the stand you're seated at is a hand-made poster that the blonde took the time to write out and decorate to verbalize the support he has for his friends currently playing.

“Well I’m here just to watch Gryffindor eat shit and lose.” Craig mumbles as he concentrates on the calls being hollered out from across the pitch, the game quickly becoming intense as Gryffindor and Ravenclaw score simultaneous amounts of points. 

Your fellow Slytherin’s visage is as expressionless as ever but growing up with him, you can see the little spark of competitiveness flashing through his emerald orbs and the slight quirk to his lips that indicates interest. A giggle slips out of your throat, deeply endeared to see your future brother-in-law keeping up his childhood rivalry with your boyfriend.

At the ravenette’s words, Kenny unceremoniously shoves an indignant Kyle out of the way so that his hands can reach towards his face. Streaks of blue follow his fingers as he smears lines of paint across Craig’s cheeks, a large grin adorning your brother’s features.

“Well, aren’t you just the Ravenclaw dickrider?” He smugly inspects his work as the Slytherin rolls his eyes, his nose scrunching up as he waits for the uncomfortably wet mixture on his skin to dry. 

Your brother then turns to you once he deems it satisfactory, his unmarked hand holding a small tub of paint. “Want some, N/N?”

Obediently leaning your face forward to allow him the same treatment he did with Craig, your brother annoyingly pulls his colored concoction away at the last moment with a mischievous expression crossing his features. “Or do you want to show some support for your boyfriend, Stan? Kyle, why don’t you turn this red so that—”

Tweek yelps as your whole body dives over his to wrap your hands around Kenny’s neck, the older blonde manically laughing as your two other brothers try desperately to yank you back into your seat. It takes Tolkien joining in to bring your angered self to give up your plans at first-degree murder, a pout adorning your face as Kyle pats your head in comfort.

Although Tolkien and Kyle were Ravenclaws, their interests were more aligned with their academics and of other extracurricular activities (the redhead kept up with his childhood passion in the muggle sport of basketball and the ravenette thoroughly enjoyed music, playing instruments like the bass guitar). The two aforementioned and Butters always attended the respective group member’s Quidditch games, your personal cheerleaders despite not playing the sport.

Focusing back on the game, your eyes unconsciously searches for Gyffindor’s seeker until crystal blue meets your own. You begin to fight off a blush when Stan takes the time to lift a hand up to leisurely wave at you, a lazy smirk on his face as his eyes possessively zone in on his larger robe drowning your smaller figure—at the way his house colors beautifully complimented the undertones of your skin and hair.

Kenny begins to obnoxiously make loud kissing noises when he notices your wordless interaction, your boyfriend’s grin growing wider when his team captain admonishes him for not paying any attention to the possible whereabouts of the Golden Snitch. You count your lucky stars at the fact that your knitted scarf hides the giddy smile stretching across your already blushing face, the slight feeling of breathlessness causing an unfamiliar sensation in your stomach.

“Go, Ravenclaw! Beat Gryffindor’s ass so that Slytherin can fuck you up at the finals!” Cartman begins to screech, the rest of you snickering at his version of… support.

“Have it all figured out, don’t you, fat boy?” Kyle snorts as the side of stands filled with red and their lion-shaped balloon sends nasty glares at your group. None of you pay them any mind, however, having grown up used to the unpleasant reactions your friends often evoke for their dumbassery all your life.

“Stan sees the Snitch!” Tolkien abruptly shouts, his body straightening up from his perched position on the bench as you all jump to immediate attention at his words.

The aforementioned seeker is a blur of red and gold as he zooms down the pitch, your boyfriend’s hands tightly clenched around his broom and his body leaning forward to gain further traction. Your eyes widen in amazement as he effortlessly swerves around both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw players alike in his pursuit of the tiny ball, the other team’s seeker belatedly noticing and starting to fly after him. 

“For fuck’s sake, Ravenclaw is even shittier than I thought.” Cartman grumbles in vehement disgust, his larger body slumping down in defeat as he begins to eat his woes away with a pack of snacky cakes.

Just as Stan approaches where the group of you are seated, you anxiously watch with bated breaths as his flying form rapidly crosses over your positions. Despite the fact that he’s chasing after the Golden fucking Snitch, the ravenette finds the time to slow down just the tiniest bit to catch your eye.

And in his theatrically obnoxious Marsh fashion (as he’s been in publicly displaying his love and affection for you), your boyfriend cockily yells out for everyone in the pitch to hear, “This one’s for you, N/N!”

There’s a smug grin on his face as he hurtles down the stadium, his hands stretching forward towards the fluttering globe–

“Marsh got the Snitch!” The commentator loudly announces into the microphone over the roar of cheering students, the blush on your cheeks making its permanent residence on your face.

Your friends all look at one another in a mixture of expressions, ranging from wide eyes and slightly dropped mouths or snickering smirks at the bold declaration of love. You don’t take notice of any of them—you can’t—not when your eyes are mesmerized at the sight of your boyfriend spinning around in mid-air to triumphantly hold out the Snitch for all of Hogwarts to see, his own eyes locked with yours.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

Your brother’s legs lay on either side of your waist as twitchy fingers begin to clumsily weave your hair into two french braids, the both of you lounging on the deep blue of the linen that covers the bed. Butters lays on his belly in front of you with his legs leisurely swinging back and forth in the air, his two hands cradling his face as he happily hums and reads a muggle teen-gossip magazine that your mom regularly sends to him.

"Loo, loo, loo—"

“I can’t fucking concentrate if you keep humming out of tune like that!” Kenny angrily shouts from his position on the floor, his eyes never leaving the parchment paper in front of him as he rushes to write out five scrolls worth of Transfiguration homework.

Before anyone can make a scathing retort back in typical sibling banter, the fireplace located at the end of the bedroom ignites in a colorful assortment of neon green flames. The fluorescent lights steadily flicker away to reveal the towering frame of Craig, the Slytherin using the Floo Network to sneak into the Ravenclaw tower past curfew.

“Hey! It’s our boyfriend!” Your eldest sibling and you annoyingly yell out in synchronization, the ravenette tiredly rolling his eyes as he steps into the dorm and dusts the remnants of ashes lingering on his robes. 

You all snicker at the reaction your obnoxious teasing always elicits, Tweek sending an apologetic smile to his significant other as he continues weaving your hair together. The reason for this long-running joke is as follows:

If the stoic teen wanted to surprise his lover with ice cream, then he’d better have four to bring for all of you (lest he wants his boyfriend to have a few bites while the rest of his annoying siblings eat the rest of it). If he discreetly invited the blonde for a romantic night out to the movies, he can only drag his feet in grumpy defeat to the ticket counter when he sees that all three of his boyfriend’s siblings have tagged along despite it being a date.

He didn't know that asking Tweek to be his boyfriend would entail him getting into a relationship with three additional people but here he was—tired beyond his years and with a noticeably lighter wallet.

“Fuck off, dipshits.” Craig irritatingly mumbles as he dives headfirst into the silk-covered pillows decorating the head of Kyle’s bed, a long groan monotonously being drawn out from the teen after suffering in detention. 

The red-headed Ravenclaw was still off doing his duties and patrolling the halls of Hogwarts while the rest of you took advantage of the private dorm room that prefects were granted, invading the space as if it were your own. You snort around the sweetness of the lollipop in your mouth, your lips wrapped around the blue raspberry-flavored treat as you watch the fireplace ignite once again. 

You all hear Clyde’s obnoxious whooping before seeing him appear with his arms raised above his nest of brown hair, his hands brandishing bottles of Blishen’s firewhiskey and Dragon Barrel brandy. He gets roughly pushed out of the way by Tolkien, the Ravenclaw rubbing his temples in annoyance at the already loud noises coming out of the Gryffindor despite being sober.

You attempt to hop up and join the brunette in his excitement but a quick tug on your blonde locks has you pouting as Tweek continues to braid your hair. But when your brother finishes his task at hand, you’re quick to join the makeshift circle beginning to form on the floor as the rest of the boys steadily begin to join the room via Floo.

You’re all chatting with one another when the door behind you opens, the rest of the boys hollering out loud as the man of the hour finally joins, the guys rowdily congratulating him for securing Gryffindor a place to compete for the house cup. You keep your body facing away from the newest members joining, a snicker escaping from your mouth when you hear Kyle heaving out a deep sigh before mumbling the incantation to magically erect a barrier around the room so that the other students in the tower couldn’t hear your late-night festivities.

You slightly jolt in surprise when someone suddenly settles themself behind your seated form, your body getting pressed against a hard chest as you feel the vibrations of your boyfriend deeply chuckling behind you. You slightly turn your head to send him a pout for his teasing, a discreet hand going to pinch him on the thigh in greeting as you internally roll your eyes. 

He quirks an eyebrow at you in return, his muscular arms wrapping around your waist to forcibly place you on his lap with an admittedly handsome smirk adorning his face. But before you can say anything, Cartman administers a round of shots and loudly prompts a toast within the group to celebrate the start of a shitfaced night.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

“Hey. How’s my pretty girl doing?” Stan’s voice is low as he speaks to you from behind, a puff of air accompanying every word leaving his mouth and softly hitting the shell of your ear.

You feel his large hands reach underneath your uniformed button-up, his cool fingers lightly skimming themselves against the bare expanse of skin he has access to. Your lips slightly part at the sensation, the rings adorning his fingers eliciting a trail of goosebumps to arise at the difference in temperature due to your alcohol induced warmth.

“Hmm?” The deep baritone of his voice further prompts you to answer when a beat of silence stretches on between the both of you for too long, the tone all too-knowing and annoyingly confident.

Your head slightly turns from its position at the front of his shoulder to look at the teasing expression on his face, every hue in his sapphire eyes becoming more apparent when they come into contact with your drunkenly cloudy ones. You can’t help but to notice that the distance between your faces is miniscule, the small space slowly diminishing until you can feel your breaths begin to mingle with one another.

The pungent smell of alcohol is prominent between the two of you, lightly sweetened by the hickory scent of the cinnamon firewhiskey you both drank. There’s a small whiff of blue-raspberry from the little treat you indulged in earlier and a smell so comforting, something so innately Stan that you can’t help the way its scent relaxes your muscles even further and makes you feel at home.

It’s confusing—this rivalry you have always had and this faux relationship the ravenette has suddenly proposed. You can’t help but to think to yourself: has Stan always been this handsome? 

With the way the amber hues of the fireplace further accentuates the features on his face, the warmth of the fluorescents hugging the slope of his cute nose and the pretty pink coloring his plump lips. Your eyes greedily drink in the way the raven locks of his hair falls perfectly against his forehead, the dark tresses complimenting the slight tan on his honey skin from the time spent out in the sun to polish his already superior Quidditch skills.

You don't realize that your eyes have started to close until you feel your eyelashes lightly flutter against the skin on your cheeks, a pair of soft lips coming into contact with your own. Your lips begin to quirk up at the sudden wave of happiness you feel when you finally realize what you’ve been missing when your friends talk about love and relationships with the way Stan kisses you—so soft and sure, like you're the only thing that matters in the world. In his world.

The way he slots your lips together has no ounce of hesitation, it’s gentle and patient—like this is something you’ve both been doing forever with one another and like it's just something that naturally belongs in this universe. Like the way people have readily accepted the fact that the sky is blue and that grass is green with no further question, his loving embrace makes you feel like there is no other place for your lips to be but here.

But when your lips part, you can’t help but to think about how this all isn’t real. That this thing happening between the two of you is all because he loves another girl, that he still wants her after all those years. 

The startling realization feels like a bucket of ice cold water drenching your whole entire body, the suddenly intrusive thoughts quickly bringing your mind to clarity as it needlessly taunts you. Your internal depreciation sobers you up, your teeth harshly biting down onto your lips to invoke the metallic taste of copper in an effort to stop the thin film of tears that begin to form from trailing down your cheeks.

The only way you can get this love is if it’s fake, Y/N.

#south park #south park x reader #stan marsh x reader #stan marsh #south park fanfiction #lalawrites

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Would Things Be Easier If There Was A Right Way

Pairing: Dilf!Bucky Barnes x Teacher!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: they argue so everyone's a lil sad for a bit but it's okay

Genre: It couldn't be ALL fluff in this series now could it? (it could but where's the fun in that) have some angst fluffy ending though because I'm soft for Dilf Bucky

Summary: It's not always smooth sailing with your boyfriend, sometimes you get into disagreements even when you're on the same side

***

As you walk quickly down the street to your local cafe you tug your jacket a little closer to your body. It's not yet so cold that walking is unbearable but when the wind picks up you're reminded that winter is getting closer. It's a professional day for the county so although it's a Wednesday, the kids are out of school today. You've been using the day to catch up on putting in grades and decided it was time for a break. That's what brings you to the line at your favorite place to get coffee. You order a warm drink and a pastry, finding a seat near the window to enjoy your little snack. You watch idly from your spot as people walk by the giant window, all of them rushing to get out of the windy weather and to their destinations. You frown to yourself when you notice a little girl that looks to be by herself across the street from your cafe. You glance around curiously, instinct causing you to worry when you don't see any adult who seems to be particularly watching after the child. Your mild concern turns to full on worry when you catch a glimpse of the child's face that makes you gasp. That little girl looks an awful lot like Lily. When she turns again you realize it is Lily and you're out of your seat without a second thought. You cross the street as quickly as you can and call out to her.

"Lily!" Her head snaps to you and she meets you with a smile as you walk over to her.

"Oh hi, y/n. Boy am I glad to see you." She says with a huff.

"What on earth are you doing here Lily?" You frown, crouching beside her.

"Well I was supposed to go to the library with daddy today but when I woke up he was gone and I tried to wait, I even called him, but after a while, I figured I would just go without him because I thought he forgot about me."

"Are you telling me you tried to go to the library by yourself? How did you plan to do that?" You blink at her.

"Well I've been enough times I thought it'd be easy, but I'm pretty sure I took the wrong bus." She frowns.

"You got on a public bus alone?!"

"Well I can't drive. How else was I supposed to get there?" She shrugs.

"You were supposed to wait for an adult to take you. You don't even have a bus pass."

"I don't but I have an allowance and the bus takes coins."

"Lily sweetie you are entirely too young to be galavanting around the city without an adult. You should know better."

"Matilda was going to the library at like five. I'm twice that." She pouts.

"Matilda is a fictional character in a movie made before you were born, the fact that her family just let her wander around is not something you should be envious of little flower. It was bad." You frown. You let out a sigh and shake your head, "I'm going to call your dad and we'll see about getting you home." You tell her pulling out your phone. You dial Bucky's number quickly and sigh again when it goes to voicemail. "Well daddy didn't answer so we're going to go back to my apartment and wait for him to call back." You tell her. Lily grabs your hand and the two of you make the short trek back to your apartment. You set her up with a bowl of goldfish and some cartoons while you wait for Bucky to call you back. You're kind of in disbelief that she hopped on a bus by herself and somehow ended up in your neighborhood safely. It's almost an hour later when your phone rings.

"Hey y/n, you called me?" Bucky says when you pick up the phone.

"I did! Are you home?" You ask.

"Just walking to the door now how did you know?"

"Well I just wanted to let you kn-"

"Wait a second why is my door open?" He mutters.

"Oh I thi-"

"Hang on doll, I left Lily to take care of something and the door was open when I got back." Bucky says quietly. You can hear him calling out for Lily as he walks through the house, each unanswered call making the next a bit more frantic.

"Bucky?" You call him after a few minutes.

"Sorry y/n I just- Lily is missing. She's not here and I-"

"James she's not missing. She's with me. That's why I called you." You finally manage to tell him.

"What is she doing with you?"

"Well the story goes she got impatient waiting for you so she tried to take herself to the library and took the wrong bus. I was out and happened to see her across the street so brought her to my apartment." You explain.

"She got on a bus? By herself?!" Bucky's voice gets a bit louder when he asks that.

"I'm as surprised as you are. Did you want me to bring her to you or are you going to come get her?"

"I'll come there. Give me like 20 minutes." Bucky says.

"Alright, just text or call when you get here." You tell him. He hums an affirmative before hanging up. "Lily, that was your dad, he's on his way to pick you up." You tell her.

"Am I in trouble?" Lily asks quietly.

"Well, I can't say for sure but probably. You left without an adult and didn't tell your dad or any of your guardians- you really worried him." You tell her.

"I just wanted to go to the library." She pouts.

"The library isn't going anywhere. I'm sure your father will never let you out of his sight again but he can still take you. Maybe just, not today." You offer kindly. A little over twenty minutes later you get a text from Bucky saying he's downstairs. You take Lily down to where Bucky is standing, leaning against his car. He scoops Lily into his arms quickly, hugging her tightly before pulling back to look at her.

"Don't you ever do something like this again Lily do you understand me?" He says sternly. Bucky tugs open the door of the car and starts to buckle her into her booster seat.

"I just wanted to go to the library daddy." Lily pouts at him.

"You know better than to leave the house without me or one of your uncles. What were you thinking?"

"I've ridden the bus before!"

"Not alone! Look we will talk about this when we get home." Bucky sighs standing up and closing the door to the car. "This girl will be the death of me." Bucky shakes his head.

"She's a curious one for sure." You muse.

"I can't believe you didn't get in touch with me when you realized she was wandering by herself. A text or something, this was an emergency."

"An emergency? That's an exaggeration I think. Besides, I called you and you didn't answer remember? I didn't think it was necessary to blow up your phone because she was sitting on my couch eating goldfish and therefore she was safe. It's not like she was in any danger."

 "It isn't for you to decide what's an emergency. You aren't her mother. Lily's safety is my responsibility." Bucky snaps. Your eyes widen momentarily before your face sets into a frown.

"Yeah I- I know I'm not her mother, I'm not trying to be but I've also known her for over a year and was her teacher so I thought that since you weren't reachable I would be considered a responsible adult who can be trusted with Lily's safety. I guess won't make that back mistake again." You cross your arms, confused as to why he lashed out at you. Your words hang in the air for a moment before Bucky lets out a sigh.

"Y/n-" Bucky reaches for you but you step back away from his reach.

"I have to, finish putting in grades so I'm going to go back up to my apartment. I'm just glad nothing happened to your daughter before I found her." You say. You turn around and walk back towards your apartment before Bucky can say anything. You almost want to look back at him as you walk away but you will yourself not to, sure you'll lose your resolve if you do. You almost think maybe it's a bit much for you to be upset about this, you want to be understanding, but you can't help taking his response personally. Back in your apartment, you try to focus your attention on work. Everything takes you much longer than usual but you do manage to get it done eventually, even with Bucky's scathing words ringing in the back of your mind. 

~

When the bell rings, you glance at the clock with surprise.

"Alright kids everyone grab your bookbags. Make sure your homework is written down, I'll see you all tomorrow!" You say and your kids are quick to pack up. You set yourself up at your desk to do some work while the kids trickle out to meet their parents and get on their buses. A knock on your doorframe causes you to look up from your computer.

"James." Surprise is clear in your tone as you pull your glasses off of your face.

"Hi, hope I'm not interrupting." He says quietly as he walks in with one arm behind his back.

"Not particularly, the school day is over. What are you doing here?" You stand from your desk to meet him halfway.

"Apologizing." Bucky's arm comes out from behind him, a bouquet of flowers in hand. "I was, way out of line last week. I was really stressed over the fact that Lily had done something so risky and I took it out on you which I shouldn't have done and I'm sorry."

"It's alright James." You say, taking the flowers from him.

"It's not alright. I hurt you, I saw that the minute I said it and I never want to do that to you. If it weren't for you we'd probably be having a very different conversation about Lily that day. I didn't even thank you, I was busy drawing lines in the sand because of my own fears-" Bucky trails off with a strange look.

"Fears?" You prompt curiously.

"Lily adores you. Truthfully it worries me sometimes. I mean of course I want her to get along with the person I'm seeing but, you're also the first person I've dated since she came home. I- I worry that if things go south, if I screw this up, Lily's going to get hurt in the crossfire." He frowns.

"Neither of us can predict the future, but I can say that if you let your insecurities rule your life that way you won't be able to enjoy things even if they do last." You offer, "and don't assume you're going to screw things up. I really like you Bucky, and I understand this is new to you but building trust has to start somewhere."

"I know- you're right and I do trust you, this is just- all very new to me and it's intimidating. How much I care about you, how much Lily cares too."

"And we'll figure it out, but we'll do it together." You say placing a hand on his arm comfortingly.

"You are so much more than anything I could've expected." Bucky whispers.

"Don't say that like you don't deserve me." You warn him. Bucky chuckles.

"How did you- maybe you know me more than I thought." He hums.

"I'm learning." You smile and Bucky laughs again.

"Lily's in the car so I have to go, but I'll call you. Okay?" Bucky says.

"Okay. That's fine. Go be a dad." You joke. Bucky laughs as he leaves your classroom. You know relationships aren't always easy but if this is how you and Bucky resolve arguments you honestly think things will be just fine. Even though he's worried for nothing.

***

Tagged Users: @marvel-fandom23 @alana4610 @marvel-wifey-86

Anthology Masterlist

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky #marvel #dilf bucky #There is no right way anthology #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes

[atinytinaa]

The Lonely Hearts Club

Are you lonely too?

Pairing: Punk!Wooyoung X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Enemies to lovers, Battle of the bands, Slow burn

Warnings: red head wooyoung, mean wooyoung, swear words. Mention of ice cream.

Please tell me if I'm missing something

a/n: Please like and reblog, Feedback is highly appreciated, Thank you for reading :)

(Has not been proof read)

Track Two: Graveyard

You shook your head and sighed.

"you've got to be kidding me?" You questioned. Sana stood next to you. Big smile on her face, she just nodded at you.

"Battle of the bands. Someone has to beat We the kings this year" She stated, sipping at her milk shake, as she walked away from where you were observing the poster.

You scoffed. Following behind her.

"Right, and it's going to be me and this imaginary band"

She whipped around, making you bump into her.

"not just any band y/n '' she raised her eyebrow at you with a smirk playing on her face. "The band of the century".

"look i know you've had this fantasy of being in a band bu-"

You looked around and observed the stores in front of you as people came in and out.

"What do we need at the music store?" You questioned

"Song Mingi"

"Song Mingi? The nerd?" You said, shocked at the quiet boy she's suggesting

"The same Mingi that projectile vomited in front of everyone in 6th grade?"

Peeking from behind the guitars, staring at said boy as he helped a family buy a piano for their child.

"Yes, dear cousin, Song Mingi, the same one who graffitied on the teachers car for senior day"

You gasped, not believing a word that came out of her mouth.

"You mean fix on?"

She nodded.

"Trust me he's your guy, straight A's, strict korean parents have made him play cello since he was five years old, he's basically a prodigy" she threw her arm around you, her body weight against yours "but it wasn't till he heard John Entwistle from The Who play his solo on My generation did he change his mind and started to play bass behind there back"

You stared at her a bit creeped out at how she knew all this information.

"If his parents found out they'd probably kill him" Sana said, turning towards you.

"Now, how do you plan to get him into the band?"

"Me?" you Shouted a little too loud, making the girl shush you.

"Yes. You. Who else?"

You gaped at her like a goldfish out of water.

"This was your idea not mine"

"Yes but it's your band"

"My band? you were the one who suggested -"

Your fight was broken by a deep voice coughing, making you both look at him comically.

"Can I help you ladies?" Questioned the Tall boy.

"Well that didn't go so bad,did it?"

You glared at the girl from her seat across from yours. thinking back on the fool you made yourself in front of Mingi 

"He probably thinks i'm a freak"

"I don't think he minds, he's pretty cute, have i dated him before?"

You were too lost in your thoughts to respond to her, as she scrolled her phone, probably looking for the next member.

Having a bassist meant having a guitarist and that meant having a drummer as well.

You Gasped snapping up with a big smile on your face.

"We need to go to wendys!"

"Why are we at Wendys?" Sana questioned.

The sun had set, making the night chilly, as you both stared up at the neon sign of the fast food restaurant.

"Because, dear cousin, i know exactly who could be our guitarist"

You pulled the door open, the smell of fried food hitting you all at once and the sound of Steve vai shredding on the guitar landed on your ears.

You smiled to yourself, staring at your only other friend in this beat up town, frying burgers.

"Yunho!"

The giant looked up from his work giving you his big puppy eye smile.

"Y/n!" he eagerly said

Jeong Yunho. High school dropout. legendary guitar solos at underground shows. Doesn't know what to do with his life but seems to be happy where he is.

The boy jumped over the counter in a rush, bringing you in for a big hug.

"Do you want some ice cream?" the boy murmured, mushing his face into your hair.

The moment you met Yunho it was as if everything had fallen into place, you guys were soulmates, not the romantic type, but your brother/ sister type of love.

" Yes please with sprinkles on top" you beamed, relaxing at the counter as you watched the boy make your ice cream.

He cleared his throat.

"So what brings you here Tiny?" he questioned, broad back towards you

" Well me and-"

You looked around for the pink haired girl, as the sound of the door opening rang out.

"Sorry y/n Mina had called and said she had a fashi- on emergency" she sighed out, stopping in her tracks, her eyes glazing over with a dreamy look in them.

You turned to see your ice cream cone crushed in Yunho's big hands, ice cream dripping down onto the floor as he stared back the same dreamy haze in his soft eyes.

"H-Hi" He Stuttered out, whipping his free hand on his apron, pushing you slightly out of the way.

"Hello" Sana Said nervously, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, shaking hands with the boy, both gasping at the contact.

It was as if two magnets were drawing each other in, they could not take their eyes off of each other.

"umm guys?" you snapped , making them both stare at you, as you stared back eyebrows furrowed at what you had just witnessed.

"Are you okay?"

They let go of each other's hands, hearing yeses and a few shy giggles come from them.

"Umm, shall we sit down and talk?" you scratched at your head, not sure what to do.

Yunho and Sana sat down across from each other, Sana fluttering her eyelashes at the tall boy who stared back in awe, knuckles to his rosy cheeks.

"Getting to the point i need a guitarist to play in-"

"i'll do it" the boy answered, the love sick look on his face not leaving once.

"You will?"

"You will?".

Did you really just witness your cousin and your best friend fall in love with each other? and at first sight?

"Okay then" you said getting up from the booth.

"i'll wait for you outside, uhh Yunho Text me"

only a hum came from the duo making you roll your eyes at them.

Who needed love anyways when you had music

Right?

.

.

.

"Well"? You smirked, as the girl got into her car, a new aura surrounding her. She sighed with a big smile on her face turning the car on as she drove out of the empty parking lot.

Where is he? sana questioned

Yeosang, the boy's bored eyes stared back into hers through the glass of the concession stand.

"Out back like always" he muttered.

"What are we doing" you asked, hesitantly

As she pushed open the emergency door, letting you out first, She just smiled at you with mischief in her eyes.

"Getting you a drummer".

You heard the sounds of cheers and beers being cracked open, the parking lot to the town's cinema was a very famous hang out spot for those who enjoyed illegal activity and just as you expected everyone who was someone in this town was here.

A red haired boy pushed himself up onto one of the trash cans, letting his leather jacket hang around his elbows, showing off the different tattoos he had scattered on his arms, air guitaring to the song that played off the speaker.

You didn't need to look at the owner of that high pitched laugh to know exactly who it was.

The infamous Jung wooyoung.

The red haired male has always been very outgoing, not shying away from a challenge or the chance to make someone else laugh.

You stopped in your tracks, the thought of leaving Sana alone crossed your mind.

"What the hell are we doing here?" You whispered, harshly.

She knew very well you didn't like being near the type of crowd she's involved with but she just smirked at you, not expecting the next words to pierce you with hurt.

"Just because you and San stopped talking to Wooyoung doesn't mean I did"

and just like that she ran towards the redhead screaming his nickname for everyone to hear. The boy perked up at the mear call of his name, a gorgeous white pearly smile on his tanned skin as he twirled the girl around, picking her up off of the ground.

Rolling your eyes, you walked slowly towards the duo drying your sweaty palms on your skirt. Already knowing how this interaction is going to go.

"Well, well, well if it isn't my favorite girl"

You looked up at a split hair dyed boy, his small hand intertwined with a sharp eyed boy.

"Kim Hongjoong!" You beamed, relieved that at least you knew a face.

The world suddenly became a blur for the red head as he locked his cold brown eyes onto you. He could suddenly hear his heart pounding in his ears, his hands sweating and shaking from familiar feelings hitting him after all those years.

The boy scanned you, hiding his disbelief that it was really you, the years doing wonders to you. You weren't that child he used to make mud cakes with. Now, you are a woman.

He watched as Hongjoong hugged you, making him clench his fist, his anger bubbling up, preparing to burst at any moment. But Sana calling you over shook him out of his stupor.

"How about you love? How's this shitty town been treating you?" Hongjoong asked taking a drag of his cigarette

"Well i se-"

Sana called out to you, making everyone stare at you. Not liking the attention, you put your hood up to hide your blushing cheeks.

You bid your goodbyes to the two boys before you, Hongjoong telling you that he'll call you for future producing sessions.

You stared straight into Wooyoung's cold eyes as they stared back at you without emotion, as you made your way towards the excited female side.

"Wooyoung this is y-"

"I know who she is" he deadpanned, taking a cigarette out of his leather jacket

Sana hesitantly smiled, not expecting for the conversation to go this way, She just smiled at you and grabbed your arm, trying to comfort you.

"Well the reason I have brought you both here is because, we're entering battle of the bands and we need a drummer and-"

The boy lit the cigarette, not once taking his eyes off of you

"No"

His reaction didn't surprise you. Wooyoung stopped having any affection for you a long time ago, Sana whined and pouted at him.

You were annoyed at the situation that she had gotten you into.

"You're wasting your time Sana" you scoffed, not backing down. Your mother once taught you to stare down your enemies and that was what you were trying to do, but who are we kidding this Jung wooyoung scares you.

"If it isn't Miss goodie tooshoos " he chuckled "can you finally talk without stuttering?"

He taunted you by walking closer, making you take a little step back as he leaned down to your height, blowing the smoke of the cigarette he was smoking into your face, making you give a little cough as you waved your hand.

you bit down on your tongue.

"What?" He questioned tilting his head to the side, feigning innocence.

"Cat got your tongue?"

You clenched your fist at his words, the boy playing with your emotions

"Wooyoung don't be a prick" Sana Scolded, pushing him back from you.

"You haven't changed a bit" you retaliated

The last thing you expected was laughter to escape the males lips.

" Yeah?" He questioned, getting even closer to your face, staring down at your lips as he bit down on his.

“After years of friendship. That's how you greet an old friend?” he chuckled, turning his back towards you, about to walk away when your next words make hip stop in his tracks.

Maybe you should’ve just kept your mouth shut.

“You’re no friend of mine”

The boy sniffed, turning towards you with a cocky grin on his face, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek.

He once again leaned down towards you, now lips at your ear, as you tensed up from the closeness of the male.

"Well you're still that shy, nervous kid, who won't get anywhere because she doesn't know how to ask for what she wants y/n" he whispered eyes meeting yours.

"It looks like we both haven't changed."

You breath hitched at his words, he stood to his full height, taking one more puff of his cigarette, he dropped it right in front of you smashing it with his black combat boots.

You stared down at the asphalt, hands in tight fists, shaking at his words, as he walked away leaving Sana and you stunned at his attitude.

"I'm sor-"

"Don't" you snapped tears finally falling. "Sana just leave me alone please"

You wiped your tears with the back of his gray hoodie and made your way home.

That's not the Wooyoung you grew up with.

#ateez drabbles #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez headcanons #ateez imagines #ateez oneshots #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung au

[strawberrysurecake]

NEKO PARADISO (=^._.^=)∫ ♡♡

Chapter 2. Sweet Dreaming

▶ Nya Soleil - Nekopara OVA OST

[CHAPTER INDEX] | [NEXT ➞]

Note: Crack at it again—I mean back—with chapter 2.

As always, comments and constructive criticism are welcome! I may not be able to reply to them but that doesn't mean I don't appreciate them!

The words ‘café mastar’ rang in your mind.

It sounded silly—like something a child came up with—yet with Giorno’s soothing voice and gentle touch, there was a warm air of elusive nostalgia. What was so familiar about him and his dumbass pun?

You cocked your head to the side. “Have we met before?”

Golden ears flicked forward as he flashed you a smug grin and shrug. “You’ll figure it out, Mistress.”

He smoothly released your hands and withdrew to his companions. Narancia and Fugo had ceased squabbling by the time Giorno settled himself beside the confused pair.

‘You’ll figure it out, Mistress.’

You gaped your mouth like an offended goldfish. Why couldn’t Giorno tell you straight? Now it really bugged you, but as much as you’d like to press that matter, there was a bigger question that needed answering.

“So, back to the catboy thing...” You sceptically pointed to their peculiar feline features. “Those ears and tails can’t be real, right?”

“Of course they’re real,” Narancia scoffed, arms crossed. He demonstrated said realness by wiggling his folded ears and tail. “See?”

“But...” What did you miss in biology class?

“We’re catpeople—or ‘catboys’ as you put it.” Mista shrugged. “If you still don’t believe it, you can feel my tail up for proof.”

You raised a hand but awkwardly hesitated. Was there correct etiquette for feeling up the tail of a guy you just met?

Fuck it.

You graciously accepted his offer and lifted a wary arm to his stripy appendage. The tail moved with a mind of its own. Muffled body heat under the velvety coat faintly emanated against your fingers and palm.

It was the real deal.

“Oh my God. You really are real-life catboys,” you breathed, intently running your fingertips up and down his tail’s length. 

Mista mewled when you grazed an inconspicuous spot. His voice climbed an impressive octave. “Nyaaah, Mistress! Not there! It’s sensitive!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” you squeaked and promptly let go.

However embarrassing, you still couldn’t believe it. There were real-life catboys in your kitchen! Did some weeaboo genetically engineer them?

“We normally don’t share this aspect of ourselves with humans,” explained Bucellati, “but because you’re our new owner, it’s only natural you should know.”

You gritted your teeth upon hearing ‘new owner’ again. Could you really afford to house six catboys you just met on such short notice? The fluffy one even mentioned the mafia.

Could you really house six ex-mafia catboys?

You frowned. With business so slow, you barely housed yourself.

“Should I really be your new owner? It’s just”—you sucked in a breath to piece together the internal chaos swarming in your head—“I’m not exactly ‘ owner’ material. I don’t have much money or living space...and I work in retail.” You envisioned the myriad of luxuries a gangster would have. Their eccentric fashion painted a picture of delicious, seven-course meals and huge, plush beds to sleep in after a hard day of curb stomping civilians. “It might be different from what you’re used to...”

A firm clasp on the shoulder snapped you out of your worried stupor. Buccellati’s intense gaze softened as you peeped up at him. “Whatever you can provide is enough for us. I believe Polpo saw something in you. You earned his trust so we’ll honour his decision to leave us with you.” Plump lips curved upwards. The glint in his deep sea eyes had optimism powerful enough to faintly lift your dimmed spirit. “Don’t worry, Mistress. We’ll work for you as compensation for you taking us in. Serving you will be our last duty as the capo’s former soldatos.”

You deflated under Buccellati’s generous affirmations. Perhaps it was fate to become a crazy catboy lady. Buccellati was insistent you were the right woman for the job and to your surprise, it seemed Polpo genuinely was a mafioso like you jokingly mused. He wasn’t some ordinary gangster, either; the title of capo was significant. His judgement to select you held more weight than ever before.

God, you hoped Polpo’s judgement was right.

“If we’re to work here, we should get started,” Fugo suggested.

You gawked at the hole-cladded boy. “Huh? Like right now?” Didn't they only burst out of your oven a moment ago?

“Sure. Why not,” he replied, a hand on his hip. “So where are we exactly? I assume this is the café’s kitchen?”

You nodded. “Yeah, and over there is the front,” you gestured to a wide doorway situated adjacent to a narrow flight of stairs, “and upstairs is where I live. I guess it’s also where you’re going to live, too...”

“You mean we don’t have to travel for work? Sweet!” Narancia cheered with a fist pump mid-air.

You chuckled. Honestly, that was your reaction upon finding this place available for rent, too.

“Alright then. Show me around the café. I’d like to inspect it.”

You quirked a brow at Fugo. “What about the others?”

From your peripheral vision, Mista sneakily wrapped his arms around Narancia and Abbacchio. “Let’s explore upstairs while Fugo and Mistress are busy.”

“Mistress better have a TV up there,” Abbacchio grumbled and let Mista escort him up the stairs.

“And a gaming console,” Narancia chirped as he followed closely behind. He stopped on the second step and leaned out. “Giorno, you coming or what?”

Giorno opened his mouth to respond but Buccellati quickly intervened. “I need to talk to Giorno first.”

Narancia squinted, shrugged, then hastily disappeared up the stairs, much to your dismay.

“Don’t you dare look in my bedroom!” you yelled with a stomp. Fugo grasped the back of your collar before you could give chase.

“Come on, Mistress. There’s a lot we need to cover,” Fugo urged and tugged you towards the wide doorway.

You whimpered as you were led away. Your stomach churned at the dreadful prospect of your new roommates rummaging through your private belongings unsupervised.

It was one long, anxiety-inducing half-hour. You leaned over the counter, drumming an uneven tempo onto its hard surface, while Fugo scrutinised every machine, menu and utensil in the café. Blond locks shielded his expression but that didn’t stop you from attempting to telepathically read his mind.

Why wasn’t he talking? Were those grunts of joy or disappointment? Was his tail flicking side-to-side because he’s impressed? Did he even know what he was doing?

“It’s a good place although a bit plain.”

You snapped back to reality upon hearing Fugo finally share his thoughts. His eyes flickered around the scenery behind him as he stood opposite you from the counter, hand resting on the edge. 

“Huh? What do you mean?” you asked.

In your own humble opinion, Milky Maid Paradise was aesthetic as it was inviting. It was the kind of place you dreamed of spending your mornings and afternoons in. It was the idealistic facility of respite you desired to share with your childhood community. Now it was a reality you passionately worked and lived in.

“I’ve been to many cafés before. They’re a lot like this one,” he expanded. He turned to face you, eyeing the frills adorning your outfit. “Besides your maid outfit, what else does this café have to offer?”

“Well, uh…”

Good cake? Quick coffee? Pretty layout? But those were the bare minimum for any decent café…

“Yeah, maybe it is a little generic,” you admitted tentatively. “But isn’t that enough? Good food and service is plenty for most customers.”

“For many, yes, but what’s more important now is drawing in customers.”

“ Oh ,” you replied lamely. “It’s true I haven’t been doing much advertising lately.”

“I’ll work something out,” Fugo assured with a half-hearted glance. “The front of the café appears solid. Shall we move on to the kitchen now?”

You rose off the counter with a stretch. It was about time he finished deciphering sandwich menus and the barely-used logbook. “Yeah, let's go. I want to improve what we can. After all, Polpo’s put a lot of faith in this café.”

“Yeah,” Fugo responded quietly. His brows knitted together as he frowned. “Master Polpo…”

You and Fugo quickly occupied the kitchen once more. Evidence of the explosion that happened early afternoon still remained scattered on the kitchen bench as you walked in. Presumably, Buccellati and Giorno must have finished talking and joined the others upstairs, leaving you alone with the curly-furred catboy. Whatever those two talked about, you hadn’t the faintest clue.

Fugo resumed inspecting while you busied yourself with packing away leftover cake ingredients and loading dirty equipment into the dishwasher. As Fugo neared the bench, deep purple eyes trailed from the mess to the incriminating recipe.

“Mistress, did Polpo say anything to you before he left?” he asked.

You turned your head away from the clutter of the pantry. If you could somehow cram the muffin tray in there, everything would be packed away. “Not much besides how this café needs extra people staffing it. Why?”

He chewed his lip, seemingly unconvinced. “Just suspicious.”

You pouted as you shoved the tray inside and slammed the pantry door. You leaned against it as a precaution. “What are you suspicious of?”

Fugo dropped the recipe he was holding and crossed his arms. “Polpo’s intentions. Buccellati was a longtime valuable asset to the capo for years. I can’t fathom how Polpo could forfeit his best subordinate and team over to some random owner of a niche café no one in this city has ever heard of.”

That was certainly a harsh way of describing things . Though, Fugo’s concerns were valid. Why you , indeed. You had never met Polpo before today so why did he trust you enough to take ownership of valued members of his organisation?

You merely shrugged. “I don’t know how or why he chose me but I’m grateful all the same. And I’m very grateful that you’re taking the time to critique this café.” You strenuously performed a small curtsy, as best you could with your ass scraping against the pantry.  “Thanks, Fugo.”

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze. Instead, his attention diverted to the leftover orange on the bench. He picked the zested citrus up and examined its marred peel with slitted pupils.

“Is something the matter?” you asked after a moment.

Fugo dropped his stern gaze from the orange to you by the pantry. “Mistress, I need to make one thing clear.”

Your apron was wrinkled clump between your digits. “Oh?”

“I don’t trust you.”

“...Oh.”

“Buccellati and Giorno may, but I don’t.” He folded his semi-clothed arms, orange still in hand. “I won’t lower my guard around you just because you're my owner.”

“I can understand,” you replied. “Trust is something that takes time, right? We can get to know each other as we live together. Then maybe we'll become friends or something.”

Fugo grimaced. “Like I’d ever befriend a human.”

“What ? What did humans ever do to you?” You manoeuvred your hands to your hips. “What have I ever done to you?”

His curly tail frizzed twice its typical fluffiness behind his back—a biological sign that this conversation was getting real serious. “It doesn’t matter if I tell you. I’ll never trust humans, and I don’t trust you to not dump us into the streets once we stop becoming useful to you.”

You winced at the thought. Some people would kill to have their own catboy. Were there really morons out there who would abandon them? “Fugo, I’d never abandon you or your friends. Not even Abbacchio who probably hates me.”

He clicked his tongue, eyes narrowing. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because I’m—” you gestured jauntily to yourself, “—not a monster? I don’t know what kinds of people you’ve met but I promise I’m not like that. I’ll do my best to take care of you, Buccellati, Narancia and the others with the little income I have.”

He huffed then relaxed his posture a tiny fraction, tail almost deflating to its default volume. Ears twitched as he rested a hand on his hip. “Very well. I apologise for losing my temper.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, having somehow tamed this catboy. “No, it’s okay. It’s not like you had much choice getting stuck with me.”

Fugo grunted in agreement. “However, if you try anything to harm me or my team, this—” he mercilessly crushed the orange in his bare fist, juice dripping over the tiles and splattering onto your chin and cheek, “—will be your head. Understood, Mistress?”

You swiped the sticky droplets off your face. The absolute audacity of this kitty. You knew he was a gangster but not an asshole.

“Understood, Fugo,” you muttered through gritted teeth. “Now I have to clean this mess up, too...”

There was orange juice sprayed everywhere. You scooted your ass off the pantry for a moist rag but without your back to support the doors, the doors of the pantry flew open. Trays and pans clattered as they loudly poured out of their compartment like a metallic landslide.

“And that…” you groaned. You looked to Fugo. “Mind helping me?”

At last, you made it out of the kitchen alive—with your skull intact, mercifully. 

To summarise Fugo’s critiques, he suggested minor organisational changes for efficiency’s sake, all to benefit a team of seven; advertisements on social media to bolster the café’s presence across the city; and unique, trendy menu items to coax new patrons—all of which he insisted he undertake designing himself. It had been less than a day and Fugo was already climbing the ranks.

He also suggested you rename Milky Maid Paradise.

You pouted indignantly. What was wrong with ‘Milky Maid Paradise’!?

The pair of you trudged into your humble living room where empty cardboard boxes littered the hardwood flooring and fuzzy pastel rug. The setting sun filtered through sheer curtains, forming a warm glow on your family’s old plush sofa that Buccellati, Giorno and Abbacchio sank comfortably on.

You acknowledged them with a smile. “Sorry for the mess. I just moved here so I haven’t yet finished unpacki—”

You shrieked as a black and orange blur lunged from the side. It gripped your shoulders with intense fervour.

“Why is there no TV or Play Station!? Are you that poor, Mistress!?”

“I—”

To your much needed rescue, a knight in shining leather pants barged Narancia off of you. Unfortunately, his stronger pair of hands gripped you tighter and more fervently.

“Mistress! Mistress! Why are there four cushions on the sofa!? Do you want us to die !?” Mista wailed as he savagely shook you.

You struggled to respond. You let the world sway around you.

“We don’t have anywhere to sleep, either,” Abbacchio added, unimpressed.

You lightly shoved Mista off you who flopped with a thump and a questionable clatter of bullets raining from his hat. Vertigo crept but you fought it down for dignity’s sake.

“I know and I’m sorry. This all happened on short notice so I’m not prepared. Maybe one of you can use my bed and another can use the sofa? I can lay blankets and pillows on the rug too.”

“We can sleep in these boxes,” Giorno suggested, foot playfully nudging one of the many empty boxes on the floor.

“Like strays?” Abbacchio’s disdain etched a wrinkle on his nose. “I don’t know about you but I’m not some dirty stray.”

“ You can sleep on the sofa and the rest of us will sleep in boxes,” Buccellati finalised. “Mistress, you keep the bed. You deserve your own space.”

You eyed him funnily. You've had sleeping arrangement arguments with friends before but none of your friends ever volunteered to sleep inside literal cardboard. “Are you sure? That doesn’t sound too comfy.”

To prove you wrong, Fugo slunk into a box and reemerged his head from the top. “It’s fine. It might not be comfortable for humans but it’s comfortable for catpeople.”

You acquiesced with a shrug. “If you say so...”

You battled to endure a poker face. For someone with an explosive temper, Fugo looked too precious peeking out of a box.

But the battle wouldn't last long. A growl from Mista’s stomach disturbed the tranquillity. He rubbed his neck with a strained laugh. “Heh, what’s for dinner, Mistress?”

Good question.

You mulled over your options, finger tapping your chin. It was a little late to whip up dinner for seven and who knows if you had the quantity of ingredients for it. Though there was one other option...

“We can order delivery,” you announced, hands clasped. “What do catpeople eat?”

The catboys glanced at each other until Narancia piped up for the team.

“Margherita pizza!”

You sat around the low, living room coffee table, your bums cushioned by the soft pastel rug. On your left sat Narancia, guzzling down slice after slice of margherita pizza while on your right sat Giorno, elegantly poised and savouring the rich flavours of fresh mozzarella and soft porcini mushrooms. Mista and Fugo joined you on the floor while Abbacchio and Buccellati dined on the sofa like kings overseeing a banquet even though you paid for everything.

“This is the good shit, Mistress. Glad we convinced ya to order authentic Italiana and not the crappy American kind,” Mista commented across the table. “We haven’t had proper lunch before we got zapped here.”

You paused mid-bite, intrigued. “What happened before I summoned you?”

Mista waved his half-eaten pizza. “Well, we were chilling in our dining room,” he began.

Mista picked at his food and grimaced. “What flavour is this cake? Shit flavour?”

“It’s not vanilla or even lemon... It’s just bland,” Abbacchio mumbled, inspecting the blond crumbs on his fork.

“It’s like they baked the bare essentials to make what technically counts as cake,” Fugo added.

“Just finish your plates. Master Polpo gifted this to us and to refuse his generosity would be a sign of disrespect.” Buccellati's ears flexed back as he frowned. “You know how he feels about respect.”

Silence overcame the table afterwards then Narancia resurfaced an old conversation topic.

“After eating this cake, would I still taste good?”

Giorno stared at his empty plate, not a single crumb left behind. “Probably.”

Then a burning light flashed.

Without warning, the room warped around their modest dining table. Light and shadow inverted and their tiny room span rapidly, toyed by time and space bending anomalously.

The world was pitch-black until a pop in their triangular ears and sensation of cool, solid ground signalled it was over. Slitted pupils strained in the bright overhead lights to adjust to chocolate brown tiles and polished stainless steel surfaces. Above them stood you in a frilly maid outfit, waving an unthreatening toothpick.

“I don’t get how he does it, either. Polpo’s an enigma,” Mista spoke with a shrug, mouth full of pizza.

You hummed and pondered the story over. He mentioned they ate bland cake. Could there be a correlation between the cake they consumed and the cakes you baked, thus summoning them to you? How the hell would that be possible?

“He’s an enigma indeed,” you dryly concluded. He was a man who could vanish in a flash and willingly gave catboys away to small business owners.

Still hungry, you knelt for another slice of pizza. You sifted through empty boxes until your hand brushed a remaining slice—the last slice of pizza.

You were careful to observe anyone else’s interest in snatching it before moving it to your plate. It seemed everyone was still eating what remained on their plates but before you could indulge in your prize, you caught a clearer glimpse of Narancia.

He stared longingly at the empty boxes resting upon the coffee table, not unlike a sad puppy. With him close by your side, his scrawny physique was more apparent. He lacked the same bulk around his arms and torso the other catboys possessed. The only evidence of fat on his lean body was in his boyish cheeks. It was a wonder what his previous owner usually fed him.

Your eyes shifted guiltily between your plate and his. The poor kitty hadn’t had proper food since breakfast. He could use the extra slice more than you.

“Hey, Narancia,” you quietly called. You presented the golden slice of margherita pizza to him. “Here. You can have the last one.”

Black, folded ears twitched tentatively at your offer. “Are you sure? You grabbed it first. You paid for it.”

You waved a dismissive hand. “Yeah, I’m sure. That only means I get to decide who to give it to.” With that, you unceremoniously plopped the pizza onto his plate; there would be no room for arguments.

Violet eyes shimmered in disbelief and his tail followed suit. Narancia muttered his gratitude to you and bit into the pizza gratefully.

You smiled at how adorable he was. A simple gesture like this was the least you could do as his owner.

Though from his back pocket, the silver of his switchblade glinted. Of course, Narancia could slit your throat anytime he wanted, but you tucked away that ridiculous thought. How could he murder the hands that fed him free pizza?

With dinner done, you brushed off crumbs and shuffled towards the corner of the living room where you unpacked a loaded box of fabrics.

“When you’re all finished, I have some uniforms for you all to pick from.”

Abbacchio leaned past Buccellati’s broad frame to see. “They’re not maid costumes, are they?”

Your mouth tightened to a thin line. You had bad news to deliver.

Abbacchio read your silence. “Fuck’s sake.”

You contemplatively stroked one of the frilly articles on your lap. While you believed men could rock dresses, frills and bows, it wouldn’t be right to force it upon them. Comfort was more important than appearances, after all.

“You don’t have to wear them if you don’t want to,” you said. Your grasp on the article slackened slightly. If it made them more comfortable, you would happily compromise running a gimmicky maid café for a plain old conventional café.

From behind, Giorno snuck up and delicately plucked a pink dress amongst the heap piled beside you. “I’ll wear one, Mistress. It’s a maid café so it’s not a big deal,” he assured with a smile.

“Me too,” Mista spoke, smirking behind the coffee table. “I’ll wear one ironically.”

Narancia twisted around to participate. “If there’s one that isn’t too girly, I’ll wear it...”

“I’ll wear one too,” Buccellati said. A prideful smile crinkled his eyes. “It’ll be good for business.”

A palm impacted the table. A red-faced, flat-eared Fugo tremored where he sat. “Give me whatever’s there.”

Your hands rose to your chest. Your heart pattered against your ribs like rain on a tin roof but really, you were filled with beaming rays of sunshine. “Everyone...” you breathed.

Wait, not everyone . You glanced at Abbacchio who glowered back with sharply furrowed eyebrows.

“Fine! I’ll wear one!” He stormed over and yanked the garment off your lap. The smoky-hued fabric draped over his toned arm and cascaded down to his knees. “Happy, Mistress?”

A giggle bubbled from your chest. “I’m very happy, Abbacchio.” Perhaps the big, grumpy catman was as soft inside as he was with his fluffy tail.

None of them had to but they chose to. They were willing to wear cute maid outfits for you and the café. Nothing could contain your enthusiasm.

Together, the seven of you sorted through maid outfits to wear as a team. You bought them online for any future employees to wear and you couldn’t wait to see what they’d look like on everyone tomorrow.

Was this Polpo's intention? To have these catboys join you as valued staff in your maid café? Maybe now, the café would finally succeed.

“You’re sure you’re all good there? It’s not too cold or cramped?” you asked.

“We told you, we’re fine. Please get some rest, Mistress,” Giorno assured from his stuffed cardboard box. “Tomorrow will be our first day working together.”

Everyone but Abbacchio, who haughtily hogged the sofa, curled up in a box of their own, insulated by whatever pillows and thick linen you had spare in your closet. You made a mental note to go shopping later in the week.

“Okay then. I’m turning the lights off now.” You traced the nub of the light switch by the hallway. “Goodnight, everyone. Wake me up if you need anything. You know where my room is.”

“Buonanotte,” they chimed back.

You flicked the lights off. The living room dimmed to blackness instantly. Only through the cool moonlight and flickering street lamps could you make out the fuzzy silhouettes of ears, boxes and furniture.

You tiptoed past the hallway and into the much-needed privacy of your quaint little bedroom. You slipped out of your frilly work clothes and donned the first set of pyjamas you could find before flumping onto your rugged single bed. The mattress dipped with your dead weight and you let the bed covers surround you before exhaling. Stress escaped your lungs and dissipated into the cool night air.

It was warm and peaceful in bed. For the first time since this morning, you had time to yourself again. Time to think. Time to slow down and comprehend.

So, catboys apparently existed and six of them were sleeping in your living room. They were a rowdy bunch and with a criminal background to boot. How would they handle the transition from crime to café?

You stifled a yawn. Though your body was sluggish, your mind refused to slumber. It jumped from one thought to the other. Like, what if your café continued to roll downhill? How would you feed and house the catboys and yourself then? What about your friends and family? Would they believe your situation is real and not think you’re trying to concoct a wet dream? 

You clumsily pulled your smartphone from under your pillow, careful not to unplug it from its charger. The dazzling screen burned your retinas as you strained to read a text message sent from your best friend a few hours ago.

How’s the café going!!? :3 :D I might have to visit and find out soon!

Shit. How could you explain to them? You dropped your phone and muffled an incoherent scream into your pillow. Now you really couldn’t sleep.

You tossed and turned under the covers in vain until a knock on your bedroom door put an end to your funny horizontal dance. You held back a sigh before whipping the heavenly covers off your torso and shuffling over your freezing floorboards to the door.

“Coming,” you announced before quietly peeling the door open to reveal a messy head of black hair. “Narancia? How can I help you?”

The catboy in question rubbed his eye. “Is it okay if I sleep with you tonight? Mista meows in his sleep.”

Suddenly, the floorboards felt like eggshells.

“S-sure…” you answered carefully. “My bed can probably fit two people…”

Narancia grinned at your response. “Grazie, Mistress!”

You silently let Narancia inside and shut the door behind him. A vertical tail followed the catboy as he unabashedly made a beeline towards your bed and dove under the covers, ignoring all the kitschy posters framed on your walls and your sizable collection of quirky trinkets and manga on your shelf.

He’s going to see that shit in the morning, you realised.

But there was no time for worry or embarrassment now. You robotically joined Narancia in bed and awkwardly slipped into the blankets beside him, cosying up as best you could with the limited space available.

“Good night, Mistress,” he whispered, his warm breath tickling your nose.

“Good night, Narancia,” you whispered back.

Your room was too dark to make out his features but if the soft vibrations of his purrs rumbling from his chest meant anything, he was already dozing off.

They say a cat’s purr is the most soothing sound in the world to humans. Perhaps they’re right. You were drifting off to sleep, too.

#jjba fanfic #x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure #female reader #f!reader #giorno giovanna #bruno buccellati #bruno bucciarati #guido mista #leone abbacchio #narancia ghirga #pannacotta fugo #jjba #jojo #catboys #hybrid au #neko paradiso #jjba part 5 #jjba golden wind #i hope hirohiko araki never sees this

[cait-writes]

Ch 1: Running in Circles

"I need to run away. Soon I'll be just like the others. Hide my face. No one knows it's pulling me under."

______________________________________________________________

"Sadie Marie, you gotta hurry up! We're on the road in five minutes!" I holler from the bottom of the stairs.

"Mom, I'm brushing my hair! Uno momento!"

"Uno momento my ass." I mumble as I make my way to the kitchen.

I quickly gathered my lunch and snacks for work. I shove an apple, a small bag of goldfish, and a water bottle into Sadie's bag. I was beginning to get my shoes on when my eight-year-old bounded into me.

"Woah child, you almost knocked me over. "

"Oops. You said we had to hurry, so I hurried!" she remarked as she slipped on her jacket. She took her backpack from my hands and went to the truck, her blonde hair swishing back and forth.

The commute to her school was filled with singing along to Olivia Rodrigo. As we pulled up to her school, I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw her sigh. "Back to school…" I spoke with a quiet voice. "Back to school. To prove to Dad I'm not a fool." Adam Sandler would be proud.

With a small smile on her lips, she leaned up and wrapped her arms around my neck, "Love you, Mom! I'll see you after work." She was quick to exit the vehicle when she saw her friends by the door.

I stole a quick look down at my phone before pulling away from the curb. I hadn't heard from Colten, my boyfriend, and my child's father, yet today. I've been with the man for close to ten years. We've had our ups and downs - more downs honestly. I'm trying - we're trying, to make things work for Sadie. Although it's nice to not have to respond right away, I can't help but feel off. It's like clockwork…around 6:30 am he'd send me a 'Good Morning' snap or leave a voicemail.

The day was uneventful in the Pediatrics department, at least for me. I love working in Peds, I love my crew, but the same ol' "cough, flu, stomach ache" results made the day drag.

After I discharged my last appointment, I was met with my supervisor Jill. "Hey Faithe, could I have you come with me?" Her voice was quiet as her eyes stared over my shoulder.

Anxiety hit me full bore, but I put on a smile and nodded, "Yes, ma'am. Lead the way."

We walked down the hallway to one of our conference rooms. As we walked past a few nurses' stations I couldn't help but notice some of the looks I was given. 'Thanks for the vote of confidence'. In the room, I was greeted by a police officer with a manila envelope. My heart sank. Was I getting fired? Sued?

"Hello, I'm Officer Daniels. Can you please state your name for me?" he stood with his arms crossed and legs slightly apart, the typical "police stance".

"Faithe Estelle Patrick, sir."

"Thank you. Ma'am, I'm here to serve you papers from a Mr. Johnston. With that, there can be no contact with the defendant and the minor living with him, your daughter. All questions can be answered in court in one week."

"One week. One week where I cannot see or speak with my child." I whisper a hint of anger in my tone. I sank into one of the chairs and stared at the papers before me.

That explains why he didn't talk to me. He was hiding before he whammed me with this. 'What a coward' I thought as I began flipping through the papers. He was motioning for primary custody of Sadie.

I sought refuge at my mother's house and slept on the couch. It wasn't comfortable by any means, but now that I was kicked out of my home and barred from having contact with Sadie, this was all I had. Colten allowed an officer and I into the house the day I was served to pack up a suitcase and a duffle bag with my work clothes and basic essentials.

Before I stepped out of the house I turned and looked at the man I once knew and loved, "Why are you doing this?" I whispered as I felt my eyes begin to burn. He had a smug smile as he slammed the door behind us.

Sitting in the court room I couldn't hide the anxiety I felt. I mindlessly rocked back and forth in my chair and picked the skin around my nails. The sting at least kept me semi-occupied instead of looking over at the plaintiff's side. Colten went all out and hired the best lawyers that his mother, a family law attorney, had suggested. I hired a lawyer, a decent one too, but even he was nervous.

The judge listened to both of our cases and I thought I was fairing well. My lawyer and I proved about 90% of the so-called "evidence" that Colten brought forth; however, when the topic of my career came up, my lawyer glanced over at me nervously.

I was a Registered Nurse who had traveling assignments. I've been lucky the past few years to where I was able to stay in my hometown and be home at night. There were times when I was gone for a month out of state on an assignment. Colten provided dates and ages that Sadie was during those times, claiming I missed crucial developmental stages in her life. In my opinion, he's her parent too. He's just as capable and responsible to be there and support those times too. I was sad to miss those moments, but money was tight. I was working to keep us afloat.

The judge somehow received a statement from my employer that I still was placed as a Travel RN, which the judge viewed as me not being locked in place, or stable. Who would watch Sadie during my time with her? How much notice would I receive before getting an assignment?

I was screwed. The judge granted Colten primary custody and awarded my main time during the summer and every other holiday. If I was within a 30 mile radius of Colten and Sadie, I would have to negotiate more time with Sadie.

They allowed me five minutes to speak with Sadie at the end of the case. She ran into my arms with tears streaming down her face, "I don't want you to leave!" she cried, "Why is this happening?"

I held her in my arms and discreetly wiped away a tear. Colten stood in the background with a spiteful look and his arms crossed against his chest. I couldn't show that he won, I couldn't show that he broke me.

I pulled away and wiped away her tears, "Baby, I don't know why. I'm so sorry. I will figure this out and we can make this work, okay. You're so strong and brave, and I know that you do amazing things in school." Her head fell to my shoulder and I rubbed her back, "We may not see each other often, but I'm always rooting for you. I'm always a phone call away. I love you, so, so, much."

She stepped out of my embrace and sniffled, "Times a million Swedish fish?"

I grinned, "Times a million Swedish fish."

The courtroom began to clear out and I gathered my things when someone tapped on the table, "Yes?" I asked quickly, looking up to see Colten. My face fell, "What do you want?"

"You know, this all could have been avoided if you would've just married me. We were engaged once, what's so hard about just settling down? I told you I wasn't going to wait around forever. You just couldn't get your shit together!" he whispered harshly. "You left me once before and jumped state lines - which is illegal by the way. I'm not dealing with that shit again, so I chose for you. Fuck up, and you'll beg to have me back so you can see your daughter."

"Our daughter?" I retort.

He rolled his eyes before taking Sadie by the hand and leaving the courtroom.

The next few weeks were monotonous. The same routine. Get up, get dressed, slap on some face paint to hide the dead look in my eyes, go to work, come home, and nibble on food before passing out on the couch. I managed to put a smile on my face and put on a good show for my patients and coworkers, but deep down, I knew my crew could tell I was struggling. I heard the gossip in the break room, they looked away when I walked into the room.

I want to run away. Run as fast as I can to the middle of nowhere where nobody knows who I am or my ex. Where nobody realizes what "home" is like. I want quiet. Colten hadn't let me talk to Sadie since that day in court and it was driving me insane.

One day I couldn't stand the whispering in the break room and I slammed my fists on the table, "If you guys want to talk about me, at least say it to my face. I'm right here!" I roared and pointed at my face. I scared a few people and I was glad. I threw my trash in the garbage before going back to my station. I snatched all the pictures off my shelving and threw my knickknacks into my purse.

"What are you doing?" my station mate, Kim, asked.

"I'm done. I'm leaving." I said, before slinging my bag over my shoulders and going to Jill's office. I was shocked when she sat there with an expecting look on her face.

She half smiled and handed me the resignation paperwork, "I understand. I wish you well. "

I nodded and signed the papers, "Thanks, Jill." I gave her my key fob and badge and left the hospital.

That morning I had packed my things at my mom's house. I guess I knew at some point I'd reach this breaking point. My truck's tank was full. With nothing left to truly tie me down, I pulled out of the lot and just started driving.

"You've got to be shitting me!" I groaned as white smoke billowed out from under the hood. I pulled off to the side of the road and turned on my hazards. "Of course, it had to happen in the middle of the fucking night."

I pop the hood on my Silverado and choke on the smoke that blows out. Wafting the smoke away, I locate the culprit. My radiator blew.

'Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!' I thought as I kicked my truck tire. One thing after another. I can't catch a damn break. I yank the tailgate down and hop into the back to see if I have coolant lying around, but I don't. As I jumped out of the back, a car pulled up behind me and I shielded my eyes from their headlights.

"Hey, are you alright, miss?" A deep voice called out.

I lowered my hands and a silhouette walked in front of the headlights and walked towards me.

"Uhm, yes but no. Funny thing actually." I mutter as I slowly make my way towards the front of the truck. I'm grateful someone pulled over, but in this day and age, you still have to be careful. "I'm pretty sure my radiator blew. I'm not sure where the nearest mechanic is, but from the looks of it it's still a ways."

A tall brunette walked up beside the truck and peered over the engine bay, "Yeah, I'm not too familiar with vehicles, but it looks like something sprayed all of the engine and the roof of your hood." he acknowledged. "You're just outside of Vegas about 20 miles. I honestly wouldn't risk driving into town, but that's just me." he shrugged.

"Yeah, I don't need to overheat it even more and have the fucker-sorry, I wouldn't want it to burn up." I admitted as I rubbed the back of my neck.

"I'd be happy to wait for a tow truck with you and drive you to a hotel. My buddy and I are heading home anyways, so it's not out of the way. " he smiled. "I'm Colby, by the way."

"Faithe. That would be great. I can wait in the truck and call-"

"I can call the towing company for you."

"Alright, thank you! Appreciate it."

We go our separate ways, him to his car and I to the truck. I'm looking up hotels in the area when a knock startles me. I roll down my window, "Holy crap, you scared me." I laughed and held my hand to my chest. My heart beat wildly.

"Sorry about that. I got a hold of someone and they'll be here in like thirty minutes." I thanked him and he went back to his car.

Roughly thirty minutes later another set of headlights pulled up in front of the truck. I gave the man my information and what happened. He confirmed that the radiator blew. Luckily, he had the parts available at his shop and said he could have it done by tomorrow afternoon.

When he pulled away with my truck, I slowly turned to the car. 'He seems nice. You'll be okay.' I chant. Before I opened the back door I patted my jeans and my eyes grew wide, "Fuuck!" I ran my fingers through my hair. I left my wallet in the truck. I'm without a vehicle and I don't have my wallet. That's just great.

I quickly get into the backseat, "Hey, not to be rude, but can you floor it and catch up to the tow truck? I forgot my wallet in there." I rambled.

The blonde passenger looked over his shoulder, "We can get the hotel for you, it's no problem."

"No, no. That's fine. I can get it, I just need my wallet."

"Faithe," Colby spoke as he looked up at her in the rearview mirror, "It's fine. We got it. You seem like you've had a shitty day. Call it our good deed for the day." he chuckled.

We held contact for a few moments before he turned his attention to the road. I was quiet most of the ride while they chatted. They had a chill vibe and I managed to relax enough to close my eyes.

I was suddenly woken up by a tap on my shoulder. I scanned the area before realizing where I was. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to crash on you guys."

Colby turned in his seat and held out a little card, "It's okay. You were tired." he shrugged. "Hotel is paid for. You're in room 303."

I didn't like that he paid for the hotel room. If they would've floored it like I had asked, I would've had my wallet and I could have paid for it. I don't like owing people money. It always leads to arguments or people expecting you to owe them everything.

I sighed and gave him a polite smile, "Thanks, guys. I owe you one. "

I realize on my walk to the room that I don't have any of my clothes. I roll my eyes at my stupidity, but I'm too tired to truly care at this point.

I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

I got the call that the following afternoon that my truck was fixed. The shop wasn't too far from the hotel so I walked there. Being a Minnesota gal, the blazing heat of Vegas made me huff. I fanned myself as I walked into the shop.

"You're not from around here are you?" the man asked.

"How could you tell?" I smirked and continued to fan. I grabbed my wallet from the truck and paid the bill.

"Them boys that you were with, they sure are funny! My kid watches their videos all the time. Sam and Colby, right?"

At the time the names were familiar until the guy mentioned their videos. I can't believe I didn't realize who they were before. Sadie would watch their videos from time to time. I slapped my palm to my head, "Damn it." I muttered. "Yeah, that's them. They're pretty nice guys."

I returned to the hotel after I stopped by an ATM. I approached the front desk with an envelope in hand. "Hi, I had room 303. If you could, can you send this to the guy who paid for my room? I don't have any information on them and want to pay them back."

"That shouldn't be a problem. I can't give you the information, but I'll make sure that it's mailed out today." the lady at the front desk grabbed the envelope and stamped it with their logo.

I decided that morning that I would head out to Santa Monica, California, and explore. I vacationed in Cali when I was in fourth grade, but my dad controlled that trip. Granted, I got to see Disney Land, SeaWorld, and Laguna Beach, there was the infamous Santa Monica pier that I desperately wanted to see.

This trip I want to do the things that I wasn't allowed to do when I was with Colten. I want to see the things I want and not be on a time crunch to appease his wants.

After six hours on the road, the pier grew on the horizon. The closer I got, I noticed old model cars lining the streets. A black '69 Dodge Charger immediately caught my attention and I quickly found a safe spot to park.

I stared at the car in awe. "She sure is a beauty!" I commented, looking over the clean vehicle. It was in immaculate condition and the owner beamed with pride.

"She's my baby. Had her since I was 16. She was my first car."

"You name her?" I asked, a lopsided grin on my face. Every car person named their vehicle. It gave them spunk. It gave them an identity.

"Black Beauty," he admitted with a sheepish grin.

"The name fits her well. She's a beauty. You have a great day, sir!" I shook hands with the owner and turned to walk away when I shoulder-checked someone. I was about to apologize when I was met with a pair of bright blue eyes.

"Well, well, well, would you look at that? Fancy seeing you again."

#colby brock #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock imagine #sam and colby #sam golbach #colby brock x oc

[bean-galleria]

The vegan teacher says that I wouldn’t kill an animal myself. Yes I would. I’m against having people do the dirty work for me.

If you can’t tell, I’m vegan for environmental reasons. Not ethical ones. (Also bc I’m picky)

#i freaking hate giraffes #mentally ill #bpd #veganrecipes #veganism #vegan #snap that child’s back. goldfish!

[joshscrookednipple]

Cupid Screwed Up: chapter 1

Summary: What happens when two rivals who chants even be in the same room together get paired up as soul mates for the rest of their lives..one thing they do know is that cupid screwed up.

Pairing: Josh Kiszka/female OC

word count: 2,300

Warnings: Language, Angst, Blood, kinda cringy writing.

this is the first chapter and the longest fic i’ve ever written!! edits will probably be made soon!!

there are three things you need to know before you read this.

1- C.U.P.I.D is a world renowned matchmaking company, and to actually matter in society you have to be paired with your match…sound familiar?

2- i was not the one who named my cat Clawdia, she named herself. don’t ask questions about it.

and probably the last and most important thing you must know..

3- i. hate. Joshua. Kiszka.

why do i hate him you may ask?

how much time do you have?

Josh Kiszka has been determined to make my life a living hell since the eighth grade, we are rivals in every sense of the word. i got a 100% on a test. he got a 101% (how is that possible..i have no clue. i’m convinced Ms. Harrison had a twisted up crush on him)

i get a date to prom he gets 2

i get sick with the flu, he gets pneumonia and gets hospitalized

the nerve of that motherfucker.

the point is he always has to one up me, and now he’s touring the world with his band great value fleet (greta van fleet but i think my name fits it better) with his two brothers who aren’t much better than him and his youngest brothers best friend, Danny Wagner, who is objectively the best and only tolerable person on that band.

Josh loves to rub his band in my face like the time he-

“TARAAAA OH MY GOD TARA”

i’m snapped out of my thoughts by the shrieking voice that belongs to no other than my roommate maggie. me and maggie have a weird dynamic. by that i mean she annoys the living shit out of me and i hide anywhere i can to avoid speaking to her.

Maggie bounds into my room and jumps on my bed which coincidentally knocks off my colored pencils i was using to color in a sketch i was working on, which i quickly slip into my folder to avoid any teasing from my worse and more obnoxious half.

“Tara i got my match!”

“Let’s hope it’s perscription sedatives” i mumble hardly loud enough that you had to be really listening to hear what i said.

“what?”

“nothing, who is it?”

that question clearly makes her excited because she sits up and slaps her hands on her knees in a child like sense.

“so you know the band greta van fleet?”

i roll my eyes.

“unfortunately”

“well i got paired with Sam Kiszka!!” she practically screams as she shoves her phone into my face with a screen that reads.

Pairing: Sam Kiszka.

great. this is absolutely fabulous. if it wasn’t bad enough having to see their band every time i open any fucking social media app, now i’ll be FORCED to interact with them. why couldn’t she be paired with Danny. he’s nice and calm. sam on the other hand is the equivalent to a drugged up hamster who was just fed three monster drinks.

“that’s so..great” i give her a forced smile and flip my phone over hoping that maybe a notification from C.U.P.I.D was blessing my phones presence.

instead all i got was a message from team snapchat.

I’m 23 years old and probably the only one 23 year old to not have been matched yet, and trust me i’m reminded of it.

at family gatherings “oh you’ll get your match eventually, you’ve always been a late bloomer”

at parties “sorry you can’t come in, only people who’ve gotten matches can”

at the grocery store when people see that i don’t have the gold plated ring on my finger. they refused me my discount for my goldfish. i was really looking forward to eating those.

maggie falls back on my bed and smiles to herself and rests her feet in my lap to which i notice she’s wearing my wool socks, and my grey sweatpants, at least she’s wearing her sweater. wait. nope that’s the sweater she got me for christmas last year. i really need a padlock on my closet. I stand up with my notebook and place it on my cluttered bedside triable before bending down to pick up my colored pencils.

“i invited him and his brothers over tonight” she hums staring up at the ceiling.

i freeze and drop the colored pencils.

“you. what?”

“i invited them over” she repeats as she sits up crossing her legs over one another “really you should thank me, im really the only person you interact with”

“that’s because i’m forced to interact with you mags.” i state before recollecting the colored pencils and placing them in a glass jar by my notebook and turn back to look at her “plus i also have to study for my midterms, you know this.”

“come on you can’t hide from them forever!! i know you left Frakenmuth because of them, but it’s time to make amends”

i huff and shake my head “i didn’t leave because of them, they’re just the reason i never wanted to come back.”

“and look where you are, back at Frankenmuth! see everything happens for a reason”

it’s true i left to pursue a career in digital art, but after that ship sank i had no choice to move back. i moved back when i got offered a internship with an amazing cartoon artist who happened to be only two years older than me. his name is Dylan and for a quarter of my life i had a huge crush on him, and he coincidentally doesn’t have a match either.

i choose to ignore her as my cat, clawdia comes strutting in and rubs her head against my feet. i smile and pick her up cradling her like she was my new born baby, which in a way she was. not the new born part though.

Maggie rolls her eyes and sits up “well they’re coming in two hours so put on something presentable, and try not to embarrass me”

“anything for you, your majesty” i give a dramatic bow as she leaves and closes my door. i look down at Clawdia with my hands on my hips.

“what should i wear, clawdia?”

she however is not much help because all she does is meow before propping her self onto my pillow before drifting off into one of her many naps of the day.

i sit on my bed and stare at my closet, i usually wear the same four articles of clothing everyday, it’s either my mom jeans that make my ass look spectacular or my black leggings, and a long sleeved form fitting V-neck and a state of michigan crew-neck. i’m assuming neither of those things will live up to maggie’s standards but i honestly don’t care. i pull on my faded mom jeans with my crew neck before pulling on warm toned wool socks and my Boston birkenstocks. good enough.

i turn and look at myself in the mirror before shifting my eyes to the messy knot that’s tied up on the top of my head. my hair is what you would describe as in between wavy and curly, never quite one or the other. i grab my brown translucent claw lip before skillfully (or so i like to think) putting it in my hair and pulling a few stray strands out. i settle for some mascara and chapstick before i hear the door open and the sound of four pairs of feet walk into our apartment.

i hear a murmur of greetings as i walk out and my breath catches in my throat when i see him. Josh definitely grew into his unruly hair, with it being once again shaved off at the sides. he always grew some facial hair, which usually is a turn off for me but for him..he definitely makes it work. but all of that doesn’t change the burning hatred i have towards him.

Tara interrupts my train of thought by dragging me over to the boys.

“This is my roommate Tara, Tara this is josh, sam, ja-“

she’s cut off by the cocky voice that sounds exactly identical to his twin brothers. jake motherfucking kiszka. “we’ve met”

jake is a cocky son of a bitch, not as much as his other half, but very very close. he had teamed up with josh in highschool to get me voted out of being prom queen. just because i accidentally broke his pencil.

i give him a tight lipped smile before i turn and see danny’s warm eyes and my face lights up.

“hey bunny” he speaks before giving me a hug

i had gotten that nickname when i refused to dissect a bunny in my freshman year biology class and made Danny do it for me.

i loop my arms around his tires and smile into his chest before mumbling just loud enough so only he could hear “why couldn’t you and sam just have came, why did you have to bring dumb and dumber”

he lets out a quiet laugh before letting go and i turn to look for maggie only to see she was clinging to sams side throwing her head back in laughter to something he said. gross. i pad my way to the couch and much to my distaste josh follows me and sits on the other side of the couch.

“so, tara have you gotten a match yet?”

“Have you”

“That’s not my question”

i roll my eyes and cross my arms. josh has also never been matched, which leaves millions of fan girls to believe they’re his possible match.

before i could respond jake and sam and danny join us

“so tara” sam starts “how’s the- what do you do- coloring?”

“i work as a intern at a illustrators office”

“so coloring” josh smiles smugly and tilts his head

i’m not even going to argue with him. nope. not happening.

instead i slam my cup down on the coffee table and go to my room before slamming the door

sam looks at maggie in confusion “what was that about”

tara sighs and shakes her head “she’s been acting different lately”

josh, being the genius he is pushes himself off the couch “i’ll go check on her”

and he did exactly that. he goes to my room right when i’m pulling down my pants and i’m left in light yellow cotton underwear with the word “wednesday” in light pink writing across the back and my crew neck

“actually it’s saturday bunny”

i scream and quickly pull on cotton shorts to try to preserve as much modesty as i possibly can and turn around as i see him roaming around my room, searching and touching everything like he’s fucking inspector gadget.

“get the hell out of my room Joshua” i say pushing on his chest in an attempt to get him out of the room. this back fires when he pushes me back into a wall and smirks down at me.

“bunny this is why you don’t have a match”

i clench my fists as i look up at him “neither do you dumbass”

he rolls his eyes at that and pinches my chin with his thumb and forefinger and tilts my head up so i can get a perfect view of his eyes.

“but unlike you bunny” he starts “people would pay their lives to fuck me and you..well you probably have to pay a guy to even get close to you”

i don’t remember what happened next, all i remember is my hand colliding across his cheek and my silver ring on my index finger cutting his cheek causing a trickle of blood flowing down his cheek.

i freeze and i’ll never forget that look in his eyes..but i’m not going to get him win. so did something completely stupid and i run my thumb along the trickle of blood and put it between his parted lips and to my surprise he actually starts sucking it, god his lips are so soft.

my cheeks are flushed pink as he pulls away and he smirks “do i make you nervous bunny”

“get. out.”

he throws me a shit eating grin before leaving and slamming the door and that’s when the tears are about to start falling when i hear another knock and i throw the door open

“Josh i said get the-“

but it’s not josh behind the door. it’s Jake. what the hell?

“i uhm-“ he starts “i heard what josh said- and i just wanted to apologize”

i roll my eyes and start closing the door but he puts his hand flat on the door to stop me. “just listen to me Tara- in highschool i was just trying to be cool- i shouldn’t have said those things. you’re not worthless or-“

“jake” i interrupt him “i’m appreciate it but please go, we can talk later okay?”

he sighs and nods before leaving and i turn out my light after closing my door and i plug my phone in when i hear a notification. THE notification. i quickly open my phone and see the notification from cupid

C.U.P.I.D

Hello! you have been successfully paired with your perfect match, you will meet up with your significant other at 7:30 pm december 1st at Honey B’s Eatery. down below is your perfect match.

Maybe it’s a NFL player.

Or a professional chef.

Or maybe-

Oh.

Oh god no.

Pairing: Joshua Kiszka

little did i know that on the other side of Frankenmuth josh was in his bathroom after a particularly messy one night stand, leaning against the wall, looking at his phone with the same exact notification but with her name on it.

and for the first time in history they were thinking the same exact thought.

Cupid.

Screwed.

Up.

#danny wagner #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #gvf fic #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #josh kiszka fic #gvf fanfiction #fan fic related #fanfiction

[petrikaira]

The Butler

Chapter 4: The Jails

Pg 3 (Previous, Next)

Rating: T for Teen

The lights began to pull away as the guards turned from his cell. They didn’t go far enough. He could still hear their voices down the hall.

“You didn’t tell me what ya mean by practice kid,” The first guard hissed.

“I mean- they’re gonna make him their little babe, you know they’ve been trying to have their own-”

The guards voices faded away as they flew further from him. Valko could feel the panic in his stomach bubbling. He couldn’t help but imagine his fingers, pale and pink and rounded. No claws. No teeth with which to bite. Violated again, with every fiber of his being. 

He would rather be dead.

He didn’t want to be a practice child at the tit of Queen Liita, one just to appease herself for if she could ever have her own. He was fairly certain she- or perhaps the King- was infertile. It had never been told to him, and even before he had betrayed them, it was not something you let drop to a mere butler. Who knew what servants’ tongues wagged.

Especially when they were treated the way they were treated. 

The panic was building inside him. He was going to be soft and squishy- and disposable. They would find another way to have an heir, to have a royal fae with little glowing eyes just like theirs. And what would he be, then? The older brother to the child they wanted? The child they would let their eldest practice on? 

Or would he live through whatever being started as their child, from scratch, entailed only to be cast aside the moment they had the child they wanted?

His lungs felt like they were being squeezed. 

“You’re in a real pickle there.”

“Of course I am!” Valko snapped, tasting the hew of the wood on his tongue. The panic in his lungs grew into hot annoyance. “And more to come-”

“Mmm, is there though? You’ve already been punished.”

What the fuck. He pushed himself into a sit. The daylight streaming through the lattices of thorns hurt his eyes, but there was a shadow crouched there, right on the outside, many feet in the air. A fact that would be shocking if this wasn’t fae country.

“You’re Valko, butler to the fae royalty, right?”

Well. He supposed then not a fae. He squinted. His eyes began to pick out details- a black crop of hair, glaringly white skin under the bright sunlight. White like snow-

“Let me just step in, then.”

The figure pushed aside the jail cell bars like they were a curtain, and clambered through the window. Black boots met wood with a thunk. The bars snapped back into place as if they had never been touched. Red eyes met him, and the distinct I-just-rolled-in-dirt smell of a dog.

Oh, gods. No.

Not this.

“Hiya!”

Some stupid Canis prince said as he leaned down, a bright smile on his face. Valko knew of the Canis’. The old demons who had been gods. The ones who kept the vestiges of their god powers and could bend reality where it was willing, and for them reality seemed always willing. He had heard one of them had changed an entire battalion of the Dis palace guards into goldfish. He had heard that long ago, one had changed an entire city of demons into stone for defying them.

(Previous, next)

#fantasy #the butler #writing #writeblr #writblr #creative writing #ch 4 #pg 3

[ch1ch1writez]

Snap that child’s back, Goldfish!

[hisui-dreamer]

to a great new year!

Characters: Rook, Leona, Lilia

Synopsis: going to an end-of-the-year festival with him!

Tags: festival shenanigans, not so rigged carnival games, fluff

Word count: 948

Notes: my very very very belated birthday gift for @hheun!!! happy birthday, merry christmas, happy new year and thank you for being such a sweetheart and always making me smile!! ૮₍ づ˶•༝•˶₎აづ♡

also this is a triple attack brace yourself girl

rahhh tumblr was testing my patience with how much malfunctioning occurred with this post ಠ⁠益⁠ಠ

Masterlist

Rook is the perfect person to bring to a festival!!

he's so excited to be going with you, the beauty of projecting your hopes and wishes together as the new year approaches really moves his heart

with how keen his eyesight is, you'll never get lost, he doesn't even need his um!

though he probably will very smoothly grab onto your hand smiling that joyful grin he always wears, saying it's to make sure you won't stray too far and get lost

he's lying he can find you in milliseconds

he's also the textbook boyfriend who will win whatever prize that has caught your eye!

he's great at shooting games, but also the games where you have to press a timer at the exact time

honestly just point to whatever and he'll have it brought to you within like 5 mins

you want to take aesthetic pics for Magicam? no problem your man is a great photographer and gets bonus points for how enthusiastic and supportive he is!

the perfect angles, the perfect composition, and all the while cheering you on and throwing at you every single compliment that comes to his mind

it's a blessing how optimistic and supportive your boyfriend is, and you're hopeful towards what the new year brings you as well!

You skip back over to Rook once he's lowered the phone. "Ah non!" he exclaims as he swipes through the photos of you with the sparkling lights. When you ask him what's wrong, he looks up to meet your eyes with his teary ones. "

Mon ange is far too beautiful! I cannot help but worry others may want to take you from me..." he muses, wiping away the tear at the corner of his eye.

You slap him lightly on his shoulder, turning away flustered. As if anyone could take you away from him...

Leona is not the most enthusiastic about going to a loud and crowded place, but he's willing to put up with it for you

plus he'd much rather he go with you and not the adeuce duo

he keeps his arm around you almost always just in case you get distracted and run off to look at something interesting

he's good at the games where you knock over cans, throw basketballs, and kick balls at a target, basically all the athletic games

and even if he's not good at the games, rest assured a prize shall be in your hands

his pride would never let him walk away from those stands without getting a prize for you

and plus, he's got money for days

he will scoop goldfish and call it his future meal

he's joking he'd either give it to a kid who wanted it or make ruggie take care of it to remind him of you

he will mumble grumble about how troublesome it is if you ask him to take pictures for you

but you still notice that gentle smile of his as he snaps away

and the pictures turn out exactly how you hoped! make sure to reward your grumpy cat with kisses and cuddles!!

"Hah, this game is child's play." He huffs, only for none of his hoops to land on the bottles. You barely manage to stifle your laugh, but he still throws a quick glare at you. He turns back to the game with his eyes narrowed, focused and strategising.

His next throw lands perfectly on the bottle at the centre, and the staff rings the bell in celebration. You watch in adoration as Leona's face lights up in complete smugness, smirking at his victory.

"See? I told ya I'd get that prize for ya."

Lilia is not really the most reliable person to go to a festival with, given his child-like chaos

you're gonna have to be the one to keep your eye on him, who knows where he'll wander off to if something random catches his interest

you won't even need to ask him what prize you want, he's all for trying every single game and winning

gets so many prizes, he'll start listening this one's for malleus, this one's for silver...

don't forget he has major dad energy so he'll strike up conversation with the staff and suddenly they've known each other for years to the point that the staff gives him hints on how to beat the games

his photography skills are pretty bad, and you'll end up with around 200 pictures added to your phone

despite his enthusiasm and confidence as he threw compliments at you snapping away, only 10ish pictures are usable

the rest are either a blurry mess, or your facial expressions are too... creative

he is to blame he kept making weird analogies and hyping you up so much you couldn't help but burst out laughing

he might be a fossil, but he's definitely mastered gen z photography aesthetics!

he's not the most textbook boyfriend, but you can't deny you hold every chaotic moment dear to your heart

i suppose there's never a moment of monoteny with him!

"Thank you so much! Have a great year!" Lilia waves goodbye to his new friend as the two of you start wandering once again. "Isn't this adorable?" He lifts the giant bat plushie up for you. "Now I'll be sure you'll always be thinking of me, even when I'm not around fufu."

You snap your head towards him, flabbergasted and blushing. But before you could come up with a response, something else caught his attention.

"Oh my! Dearest, look at that!" Feeling a sense of deja vu, you follow his gaze to see a... gargoyle plushie? "It'll be a perfect gift for Malleus!"And with that, he's off, leaving you behind, still flustered as you scurry back to him.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#yes milmil this was written in the order of the men you fell for #twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #rook hunt x reader #twst rook #rook hunt #leona kingscholar x reader #twst leona #leona kingsholar #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrogue #twst lilia