#these bitches have six huge ass pockets

[lepusrufus]

Never going back to buying pants from the women's section again

#these bitches have six huge ass pockets #i can fit my phone in here #my wallet #my keys #my small travel sketchbook #Miranda's god complex #i love them

[clearlydiamondz]

The Game

Erik!Stevens X Black!Reader

Part Six 

- - - - - - - - - -  

Erik being the most popular person at  Texas Southern University, he has his heart set on a particular girl.

- - - - - - - - - -  

(Y/N) sat at her desk, reviewing her notes for her astronautics class. She needed something to keep her mind off of the situation with Erik for the time being but she knew she would have to face him. Especially because she left her things and her car over at his house. She woke up with a huge headache, still a tad bit drunk from the night before so that really wasn’t an option to try and go over there. 

She fixed herself a nice cup of tea, put on some classical music, and did what she did best. Studying. She couldn’t help but think about the fact that her feelings were hurt. Especially after everything she thought her friends said. As much as she wanted to refuse the idea of Erik using her to get back at the two of them, the little piece stayed in her mind. 

She heard her door open, turning around to see Omariana in her gown with a croissant in her hand. “Here, eat this. You need some bread.” she placed it on her desk and she thanked her. 

“Thank you,” she whispered before pulling the crossing apart and eating pieces of the bread. Omariana leaned against the desk and started to stare (Y/N) down. She looked back at her before sighing. 

“Yes?”

“Don’t catch an attitude with me. I still deserve an explanation from last night,” she said to her with a chuckle. “I mean, Jakeen told me a few things but I want to hear your side of the story,” she said. (Y/N) placed the croissant on her desk before starting, 

“I was coming out of the bathroom and he was there. I-”

“He followed you into the bathroom. Fucking weirdo.” Omariana rolled her eyes.

“I’m sayin’. Anyways, he tries to talk to me about Erik and how I didn’t know him like he did. And how he said that he was changing me because I started to drink and go to parties.” she said with a roll of her eyes, making Omariana scoff. 

“Okay but that doesn’t make no sense. Because you were planning this way at the beginning of summer. Boy bye.” she said sitting on (Y/N)’s bed. 

“That part. Then Aliyah brought her ass out of no were asking if there was an issue. I was just trying to leave but he bought up how I was fucking Erik.” 

“No... Aliyah was on Instagram last night on some bull shit.” Omariana replied. For some reason that just made her stomach drop. 

“Wait.. what?” Omariana pulled her phone out of her robe pocket, pulling up her Instagram and showing Aliyah’s page.

Dumb ass hoe blocked me... how you claim you were a friend but fucked him at the chance. Bitch been plottin from the start ong 

“Bruh, I been had her blocked, what the fuck is she talking about?” (Y/N) said before going to the next story. 

Enjoy my leftovers lil hoe, that’s what I call a rebound bitch fr  

“Does she not have anything else to do with her life. Tired ass bitch.” (Y/N) mumbled giving her the phone back. 

“I mean... you had to know that this was going to happen sooner or later.” Omariana warned her. 

“I know, I know. We tried to be secret about our relationship but fucking Travis. Like, dead ass he should’ve just kept that shit on the low if he liked me. I don’t even think he really likes me. He just like the idea of me liking him but I don’t want him no more. Not after doing some pussy shit like that.” she snapped turning up. 

“Forreal. Especially after Erik punched the Mario coins out of that nigga. That is not a turn-on.” Omariana laughed. 

“It was kind of sexy when Erik punched him. Not gonna lie.” (Y/N) admitted. 

“About Erik, have you talked to him?” she asked as (Y/N) shook her head. 

“He’s been texting me but I have my phone on do not disturb.” 

“So how do you know he’s been texting you?”

“Because I be checking.” The both of them laughed as (Y/N) sighed. “I really don’t know what to do or say to him. Like god’s honest truth, what they were saying, as much as I hate it, does make sense.” she finished. Omariana sighed before saying, 

“You know I wouldn’t tell you anything that I know would hurt in the long run right?” Omariana said. 

“Of course.”

“And you know how much I dislike Erik.. right?” 

“Oh, I haven’t noticed.” (Y/N) responded nonchalantly. Omariana hit her on the thigh before saying, 

“Look. I would have never thought in a million years I’d be saying this but... ever since you and Erik started dating, I noticed a change in him. Hell, even Jakeen noticed it too.” she admitted. (Y/N) tilted her head to the side. 

“What do you mean?”

“He’s been more tolerable. Like a little more mindful of what he does and says. The other day I went over to Jakeens place and Erik was there, we actually had an interesting conversation just me and him. And I remember thinking to myself, wow.. he ain’t that bad. Then yesterday when he corrected himself.” she said. (Y/N) couldn’t respond to that because that’s how Erik has always been with her. 

“That’s how he always been with me, though.”

“Key word.. with you. Even when he was dating ole girl he wasn’t like this. The fact that he’s actually pressed about you. I know Erik, he would’ve been moved on from this situation. Matter of fact, he wouldn’t even have fought Travis if it was some other chick.” she finished off. (Y/N) went silent as her mind started working. 

“As much as you are thinking about how this looks on Erik’s part, look about the overall picture. Travis is realizing that he won’t ever get the chance to be with you. So now he is on his if I can’t have you no one can bullshit. We all peeped at how he started acting when you and Erik started to flirt with each other. At the party back in August.” 

“Aye, (Y/N). Come outside with me real quick.” Travis spoke up. She looked up at him confusingly. 

 “Yeah, I’ll be right back,” she said. She followed him outside, Erik waited till they were out the door before looking at Omariana. 

“Aye, Mari. What’s up with her? She gotta man?” he asked her as she talk to her.

”No but you ain’t finna talk to her. And what did I tell you about calling me that.” she said to him. Erik rolled his eyes.

 “Damn I can’t even-”

“You damn right you can’t. You must have forgotten, girl talk on the team. And there has been a lot of drama surrounding you.” she pointed at him as he kissed his teeth. 

Omariana looked at Jakeen to see if he was peeping the same shit. Obviously, Omariana told Jakeen about the old crush that (Y/N) had on Jakeen. And Jakeen saw the way Erik looked at (Y/N)’s photo earlier. It would be like Erik to try and holler at her to get back at Travis. 

Jakeen peeped it too. They both knew that Travis was slowly starting to feel her, but it was way too late. Jakeen knew once Erik made his way into (Y/N)’s life, she would want him. 

But they weren’t expecting Erik and (Y/N) to fall head over heels for each other. 

The night in question started to play in her memory. He had feelings for her since that night. 

“Damn. I’m dumb,” she said scratching her forehead. 

“Nah not dumb... you just see the good in everyone and people take advantage of that. Think about the ole girl. Even after she was caught cheating on Erik, she tried to start shit with every other girl that she thought he was talking to. So she tried to say that Erik was getting back at her for being with you. And not gonna lie, I thought it too. Until I saw how he acted around you.” she responded honestly standing up. 

“All I’ma say is, maybe, give Erik a chance. He really does want you. (Y/N).” Omariana gave her one last look before leaving. 

One thing she could say is Omariana was really spot-on with her advice. Not once had she ever given (Y/N) advice that didn’t turn out well for her. She grabbed her phone, unlocking it where there sat the messages that Erik sent her. Four more text messages came in.

Erik: I’m just texting you to check up on you, that’s all

Erik: You left everything over here, do you want me to drop it off. 

Erik: Actually just come over, your car is here is too 

Erik: Come on, I miss you...

She decided to text him back. 

(y/n): can we talk

In an instant, (Y/N) received a face time call with Erik. She accepted the call, placing her phone up against her laptop. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Erik asked immediately. She couldn’t help but chuckle at how fast he called and his jumping straight to the questions. 

‘Hi, I’m fine. How are you?” she asked him. 

“Fine, just worried about you,” he said honestly as she smiled at the camera slightly. “I want to see you. Are you coming back?” he asked her. 

“Yeah... I need to call and uber but I-”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll come pick you up,” he said. It looked like he was getting out of bed and getting dressed. 

“Dang can I finish.” she laughed. “I need to study and-”

“You can study over at my house.” he cut her off. “I’m serious (Y/N), I want you over here. You were supposed to be with me last night.” he placed his phone up on his bathroom sink grabbing his toothbrush to brush his teeth. 

“I know, I know it’s just-” she paused before continuing to talk. “After everything, I was just overwhelmed and I needed to be in my own space to get my thoughts together,” she replied honestly. 

“I understand but look-” he spat out the toothpaste before looking dead into the camera. “I’m saying this because I want to be with you. What they were saying wasn’t true, right. I want you and I need you for real. I’ll do anything to show that to you..” he told her. 

“I know, but that very thing we tried to avoid it happening,” she said worriedly. 

Erik knew what she talking about. Aliyah was blowing his phone up with text messages and calls, trying to get in touch with him. Finally, he saw what she had posted online about her. 

“If you’re talking about Aliyah, I’m sorry about that. Forreal,” he said.  “I’ve been ignoring all her calls and text messages,” he said. 

“She’s been trying to reach out to you?” she asked him, he nodded finishing up brushing his teeth and picking up his phone. 

“All last night and a little bit this morning. I’ll show you the text messages when I see you, this shit is blowing me,” he said putting on his beanie and grabbing his keys. 

“Erik, I can catch an uber over there,” she said standing up and closing her door so she could get dressed. 

“Nah, I’m picking you up. I should be there in about 15 minutes,” he said stepping out of his front door. The two of them hang up as she packed up her materials to study over at his house. 

Erik got into his 2023 Dodge Challenger SRT Hellcat. He heard his phone ringing, thinking that it was (Y/N), not looking at the contact. 

“Finally you answer my fucking calls nigga, the fuck is wrong with you!?” he heard the irritating voice on the other end, knowing that it was nobody but Aliyah. 

“To be honest, I answered that shit on accident. Aliyah what the fuck do you want and why do you keep blowing my phone up.” he snapped at her, starting the car up and pulling out of the parking spot. 

“You’re really fucking trifling you know that. Playing with that girl’s feelings to try and get back at me. Nigga let it go. I’m so over”

“How the fuck do you know I’m doing this to get back at your ass. If that is true, do you think that you would have known this by now? We’ve been fucking with each other for months now.” he snapped at her. The phone got dead silent making Erik laugh. “Now how is the silly ass bitch now. Stop fucking playing with me. You wanna sit here and act like this shit is about you, it ain’t. So you and that other nigga can hop off my dick and stop fucking with (Y/N). Because if I find out any one of y’all dumb asses said anything to her, I swear-”

“Oh please, Erik. Ain’t nobody scared of you. If I want to say something to that bitch I will happily do so. She’s the one that’s fucking my ex and-”

“And did you not cheat on me with that bum ass nigga!? Someone who was still my fucking bro!? Get the fuck out here and be real with yourself. Because it ain’t the same and you a crazy ass bitch if you think so.” 

“You didn’t even give me a chance to explain myself!? You were in Oakland and I was lonely and he was-”

“Listen. I’ma be real with you. I really don’t give a fuck. That wasn’t stopping you from asking me for money, right? That wasn’t stopping you from staying in my apartment when I was in Oakland, right? Yo dirty ass would have probably fucked him in my place if I didn’t have cameras old dirty bitch.” he insulted her. 

“Dirty? Nigga you fucking with a bitch that’s dirty. Who sleeps with her ex-friend’s ex. That’s fucking childish as hell bro all for what? A nigga that she wanted, wanted me? That bitch wishes she was me.”

“Nah I highly doubt that. I ain’t wasting no breath with you. Say anything to her, I’ma beat his ass, and then pay them bitches that don’t like you to jump you.” Before she could say anything else, the phone hang up

As she was tidying up her room, there was a knock on her door. “Come in!” she yelled, thinking that it was Omariana. When she noticed that it wasn’t her, but that it was Erik, she looked at him in shock. 

“Hi.” he shut the door behind him before walking towards her. 

“You good?” he asked her cupping her face. 

“Yeah, I was just reviewing my notes and things. That’s-” 

“You know what I’m talking about. I’m not talking about that.” he reminded her as she sighed. 

“I’m not really a drama-filled person so this is obviously irritating me. I just wanted to keep what we had on the low and now it’s blowing back in our face,” she admitted looking back at him. He smacked his teeth letting her face go. 

“I’m going, to be honest with you. Straight from the begging I didn’t want to do that shit. I want everyone to know I’m yours and vice versa. If anyone has something to say about it they can come to me. And I’ll ignore their ass like I’m doing this bitch.” he said. He pulled out his phone opening it up to see text messages from an unsaved number: 

834-432-4394: Erik answers my fucking call...

834-432-4394: Tell that bitch when I see her it’s on sight, on everything. 

834-432-4394: You a weak ass nigga for fucking with that bitch on god  

834-432-4394: That’s fine, keep ignoring my ass. You act like we ain’t been through this before and you came back, begging to eat this pussy

“Oh, my-” she whispered rereading the text messages. It threw her by surprise how crazy this girl really was. She ain’t never seen this side of her. She was surprised she didn’t catch her like this when they were friends. 

“She called me begging to talk but I don’t want anything to do with her. " Either of their asses,” he told her as she returned the phone. 

“Erik... I am worried about this. I have a lot to lose if she does something.” she said sitting down at her desk. Erik kneeled in front of her grabbing her hands that were in her lap. 

“I promise I won’t let anyone touch you. I put that in my life. I don’t want to be the reason that everything you worked for gets fucked up. I’ll fix it, don’t you worry about nothing.” he comforted her. He looked back at her before saying, “I will do anything to protect what we have.” he whispered to her. 

She scanned his face, seeing nothing but worry and adoration. She knew he was telling the truth. And she knew that he was the type of man to stand by his word. Something in her told her not to worry, and she was going to do exactly that. 

- - - - - - - - - -  

The next day, she sat in front of the mirror in the dance room, doing her normal stretches. Not surprising her though, she was getting some stares as the girls whispered amongst themselves. She had her AirPods pro so she couldn’t really hear what they were talking about. Kia, Omariana, and Brandy walked into the hall before seeing (Y/N) stretching in the mirror. She looked up and saw them walking towards her, standing up and taking out her earphones. 

“Girl..” Brandy whistled as (Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile on her face. 

“Don’t get me started. I swear.” she said placing her hands on her hip. 

“You don’t have to tell me anything. Erik got you all posted up and shit. Y’all adorable or whatever.” Kia laughed pushing her a little bit in a teasing way. 

“Mhm, could’ve fooled me.” Omariana laughed placing her bag and water on the ground. 

“Well, we are taking it a little slow. On my request.” (Y/N) said a matter of factly as Omariana scoffed. 

“ ‘Taking it slow’ my ass.” She mocked her. “This nigga be looking at you like he ready to chew through yo panties.” Everyone laughed as (Y/N) blushed. She knew it was true, and that look got him anything he wanted. Before she could say anything, Ms.Ruby, their coach came out on the floor. 

“(Y/L/N). Lemme see you in my office.“ Everyone looked at her, as she stood up from her seat. She wiped her hands off on her thighs before walking pass the glares and stares she received. She walked into the office before closing the door shut. 

“Gone head and sit down. I think you know what I’m going to talk to you about.” Coach Ruby said sitting down in her office chair. 

“Yeah.. I figured.” (Y/N) sighed sitting down on the chair scratching her forehead. “Look Coach, I-”

“Hold up. Lemme finish.” she said with her hand up to signal for her to stop talking. “Now between me and you, you are the only girl on this team with the exception of a few who has given me your 100% effort since you were a freshmen. Hell, you gave me more at your tryouts when you were a little bitty thing when you were a senior in high school.” she started off. “You’re always on your Ps and Qs, crossing your Ts and dotting your Is. So when one of your dance mates comes to me and tell me that you’re messing with that boy Stevens, you know I had to say something to you right? Knowing everything he has done with this team.” she said. 

“Coach Ruby with all respect, majority of them are lying. I-”

“You don’t think I know that? Trust me, I know a desperate female when I see one but like I said. You are one of my best dancers and best students and I don’t need drama getting to your head, you hear me?” she warned as (Y/N) nodded. 

“Yes Ma’am.” she nodded. 

“That brings me up to my next point.” she pulled out her tablet and passed it across the table as she picked it up. It was her at one of the fraternity parties that her and everyone else were on the weekend before. She had a cup of liquior in her hands and she was dancing on Erik.. a tad bit sexually. 

“Did someone really send this to you?”

“Yes, Mirah did.” she rolled her eyes. Of course it would be one of the girls he entertained. “Look, I can care less about what you do once you are outside these walls. But when the outside effects what we have going on inside of these walls, that’s when I have to step in.” she reminded her. 

“And has anything happened?” 

“You don’t think I know about the little tussel that happened on Saturday night?” she asked her. (Y/N) sighed. 

“That wasn’t even our fault. Travis-”

“All I’m hearing is excused (Y/N). And you know how I feel about those.” she stopped her. (Y/N) closed her eyes in annoyance. 

“So what? Am I suppose to not date. Am I suppose to not have a life? Because people don’t know when to mind their business?” she snapped. It caught Coach Ruby off guard. 

“Now wait just a minute. I don’t have a problem with you dating that boy. Like I said once your grades start slipping and drama starts happening because you started dating this boy, that’s when I have a problem with him.”

“My grades are not slipping. And me and Erik has been dating for months.” she snapped once again. That statement caught Coach Ruby off guard. 

“You’ve been dating for how-”

“Long enough to know that people started messing with us once Erik and I were seen with each other. We don’t even post each other.” she said. “Now within them months, has my grades been slipping? No. Matter of fact my grades has been better than they have been since I started college. And the team and me as co-captain have been doing great have we not?” she said as the Coach sighed closing her eyes. 

“Yes.You guys have.”

“Okay, so Erik is not the problem. The problem is the girls on this team feeling entitle to speak on my relationship because of Erik. Maybe we should have a discussion as a team instead of passing pictures and gossiping and get to the real issue.” she said sliding the tablet back across the table. Coach Ruby looked at the iPad then back to her. 

“Do you think that will fix these issues?” 

“No. But it will warn them not to be in people business before it really does effect us.”

- - - - - - - - - - -

“I can’t believe she really said that to you.” Erik said as they talked on the phone. (Y/N) was in the middle of making her some brain snacks so she could spend the rest of her time tonight to study. 

“That’s not even the worse part. Mira sent her a picture of me dancing on you. Coach Ruby was like ‘she’s only doing that because she’s concerned for the team’.” she mocked her voice. “Like no bitch, she’s doing it to be messy. Like what is it with you and picking all these messy ass girls to fuck with.” she snapped. 

“Whoah. First of all like I said, I only really fucked with Aliyah. Mirah was just a dumb spin the bottle bet sophmore year. Everyone else are non-factors.“ he defended himself. She sighed, feeling guilty about snapping on him. 

“I know.. I’m sorry. It’s just I hate how they view you and I, like we are two concenting adults. What we do is no one business but ours.” she responded placing her fruit in a bowl. 

“What she say after that.”

“She then tried to say if my grades start slipping and the team starts slacking it’s because of we are dating. First of all, we’ve been talking for months and not a damn thing change. So we not the common denominator in this expression. So if it does happen, it ain’t got shit to do with me, but it does have something to do with how they feel about shit.” she snapped. 

“Yeah nah, that’s wild. The fact we stayed to ourselves for this long and no problems raised up until Travis said some shit.” 

“So now, tomorrow at practice she wants me to hold a team meeting as team co- captain since Omariana won’t be here.”

“How do we feel about that?”

“Oh I’m excited.” she said quickly making him laugh. “You’re laughing I’m so serious. I’m literally just gonna be like, ima ask them a few questions. Then set the record straight.”

“Do what you gotta do.” 

And she was.

- - - - - - - - - - -

@life-in-the-slut-house @gloglamsparks @waveynaee @lalaooopsie @luvvjada @nccu-rnc @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @leahnicole1219 @meeksmillsfrenchfries @hinatasfleshlight @kokokonako @junie04 @sourbabynaee @sociallyawkward18 @raysunshine78 @justgetitoverwith0 @lishabaybee @rbhp @ladymac82 @musicismeb @keviekevswife1 @chaneajoyyy @youlovechicky @sexicherri3 @amirra88 @jameica17695 @lishabaybee @softleoblue @automaticdragonmugalien @lynaye1993 @eterrealluvrr @xsweetdellzx @ajenae @forevermoremagcon @babbydollaaassignn @ziayamikaelson @blmcd57110 @kaireads2020 @ts1mp0ne @luvvvjada @cozyashhh @xsweetdellzx @shurixwifey1 @blkmystery @princessmel-1995 @trippyscotch @determinednot2fall @metra873 @ravynnn-12 @meeeeep5

#Erik Stevens #erik kilmonger x reader #Erik Killmonger #black panter #wakanda #Wakanda forever

[scoonsalicious]

Hey pocket!! Whats the most ridiculous thing you’ve seem tony do?

Hi!

Wow, okay. First one's a fucking hard one, huh? I mean, to start, have you met Tony Stark? Everything the man does borders on some level of ridiculous, I swear. For the sake of this particular answer, I'll tell you the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen him do that doesn't involve sheep (that's a story for Chapter 19!). So, to misquote my Spirit Guide, Sophia Petrillo: Picture it, NYC, 2004. A young peasant girl is in her first or second year working for one of the greatest tech companies in the world, when she gets an urgent call from her boss out in Malibu. Tony's frantic on the phone, begging me to fly out there as soon as possible. Says he's got an emergency situation only I can fix. Me being young and dumb, and not fully realizing yet just how totally unprofessional Tony Fucking Stark is, I hop on a plane, thinking I'm off to solve, like, the energy crisis or some such bullshit, you know? Stupid fucking me, thinking it would be something rational. I show up to the beach house early the next morning after dragging my ass onto a redeye and let myself in, probably looking like stale leftovers, and there's this woman in Tony's kitchen, wearing a pair of his boxers, and literally nothing else, making French Toast. Like, tits on parade. We kind of stare at each other for a minute, and it's hella awkward, and I'm thinking "this is still Tony's house, right? He didn't move without telling me?" and this girl just looks at me and goes "Who the hell are you?" Fair enough-- Tony's got a new lady and she's surprised when a random chick with a suitcase just walks in, right? Makes perfect sense. I'm about to apologize and introduce myself when Tony comes slumping down the stairs, and that son of a bitch throws a huge-ass frown on his face and is all "Oh no! Honey, you weren't supposed to be home until the weekend! I'm so sorry! I'm scum! You weren't supposed to find out like this!" and I'm looking at him like "What the actual fuck, Boss?" and he just turns to this other girl and goes "This is my wife."

Obviously, the girl is pissed at Tony, but she's being all apologetic to me, so sorry for wrecking my home and shit, and I'm trying not to die laughing, which probably just makes me look like I'm about to fucking cry or something. So, she's collecting her things, calling Tony all kinds of names that I, as a lady, can not repeat ;) while telling me how sorry she is, and then she's out the door. Tony is fucking relieved-- apparently, he met her at some sort of fundraiser in LA, brought her back to the house for the night, which somehow turned into six nights?, because bitch just. wouldn't. leave. I'm so confused, because why not just ask her to go? Or, I dunno, call the cops or something, right? You have to make me fly all the way across the country to kick a girl out? Granted, this was before anyone really started talking about carbon footprints... but, I digress. His answer? He couldn't ask her to leave because he couldn't remember her fucking name. Men. We ended up having a decent laugh over the French Toast she made. I gotta say, it was fucking delicious. That chick's a senator, now, btw. We ran into her at a thing in DC a few years back, and she was so thrilled we'd managed to make our "marriage" work, after all these years. I made him buy me a beagle after that, lol. PS: Shout out to Pep for willingly taking on this man and his bullshit. She is a fucking saint, you have no idea.

#unwanted #ask pocket

[scifrey]

NINE-TENTHS

Part Six

I get all of the gear flicked on, checking water levels and pulling the wands out of the sanitizer, then grind the first pot for the perc. As the espresso machine chugs its way to wakefulness, I peer into garbage cans and inspect tables. The till is all counted out neatly, with a post-it note reminding me to buy a roll of quarters stuck to the crisp purple stack of tens. 

Obviously Min-soo closed last night, ‘cause she always kills it.

In the dark kitchen, I crank the industrial oven up as high as it will go to pre-warm, scoop dough from the huge bowl Min-soo made last night onto trays, and climb the ladder to dump a burlap sack of fresh beans into the massive stainless steel bean roaster in pride of place in the corner of the kitchen. 

In my back pocket, my phone starts playing a punk version of You're the Cream in My Coffee. Shit. That's my alarm to start the second batch of scones. Dammit. I don't have time to let the oven preheat properly. I shove the tray in.

Then it’s back out to the front, where he is sitting primly in his corner, eyes on his newspaper. 

Yeah, I'm a basic bitch and prefer coffee that's more sugar and froth than bean juice, but there’s something so good about fresh-brewed black coffee first thing in the morning. That's art in its own right, my loves. I interrupt the drip machine to pour myself a mug, and I take one selfish minute to revel in a perfect sip.

But what is usually a soft symphony of my mornings is instead a self-inflicted agony. The plink of coffee into the carafe, the hiss of the espresso machine, the hum and clunk of the bean-roster in action, all punctuated by the crisp rustle of his newspaper? Agony.

A year ago, I would use this quiet time to work on my thesis. Before that, it would have been an essay, or a lab, or something else I’d procrastinated. Now, I have nothing to work on. Nothing to do but this. Nowhere to go but here. No career, no demand, no drive, just… 

Me. 

And him. 

And the stretching, hissing, clunking, dripping silence. 

 "Ugh, get your ass in gear, you embarrassment," I mutter to myself.

"Beg pardon?" he asks, voice raised politely.

Shit. 

"I said, uh, the espresso machine is warmed up. Caffe tobio?" 

"Please." He crosses his legs. There's a flash of turquoise at his ankle. I only catch it for a second, but it looks like he's wearing socks with cartoon dragons on them. Huh, okay… that’s more playful than I expected him to be. 

"Coming right up."

"I appreciate it. And you are well?" he says, which is the longest string of words I've ever heard out of him. Shame.

"Yeah." I turn to the machine, tapping out a careful twenty-seven seconds with the toe of my chucks, timing as the espresso fills the demitasse. So I'm completely in my head, and totally not expecting it when his voice comes from somewhere much too close, just over my left shoulder. 

"Oversleeping could be the sympto—" 

"Gah!" I shout, and Christ no, the wand in my hand goes flying up, up, sprinkling boiling-hot grounds like freaking pixie dust. 

He ducks and snaps the newspaper over his head as they rain down. The sharp clatter of the wand hitting the tile makes us both wince. We stare across the counter at one another, eyes wide, with what I assume are matching shocked expressions.

"Are you—" he starts again and I hold out a hand to stop him. 

"I'm fine." 

"I've never known you to—" 

"Shit, you're chatty today," Maybe that came out cattier than it should have. He flinches, stung. A glob of espresso grounds plops off his shoulder and splats on the tile floor. "Sorry, sorry! That came out wrong. I'm not… I'm not having a good morning." 

"My apologies," he murmurs mournfully, and aw, no. 

"I'll make you another one," I say quickly. "On the house. Just… sit, and I'll—" 

"Perhaps I should go." He lowers his paper and flicks grounds off the toe of his shoe. Oh, shit, are they expensive? Am I going to have to pay for, I dunno, shoe dry cleaning? 

"No, please." That lurch in my stomach again, and it's only because a morning that has started terribly (and has only gotten worse) would really become awful if he wasn’t sitting in the sunlight, glimmering and reading.

It would be just wrong.

"If you are ill, you ought to be taking care of yourself first. Don't you have a colleague who could cover—" 

"I got a new alarm clock, I didn't wake up, it’s fine, it doesn’t matter."

"It does to me." He crunches the ruined paper in his hands, flexing and twisting. "In fact, I, er, perhaps it is time I confessed that… I smell something burning." 

"You smell burning?" I swig another mouthful of coffee from the mug I'd left by the till, and take a deep breath to calm myself. Wait. "I smell it, too." 

His eyes flick to the door behind me, slit pupils dilating. "The kitchen." 

"The scones!" I squawk and spin on the spot. I slip in spilled espresso, toppling sideways. Before I can hit the ground, he lunges across the countertop, catching my arm in a grip that's stronger than I think he realizes. It also prickles. 

Trying to get my stupid feet under me, I catch the barest flash of red scale and black, long-tipped nails. Then his hand is back to perfectly pale peach, fussily manicured, and human. 

I shrug him off and push through the door. I shouldn't have gasped, that was a stupid thing to do when the air is heavy with smoke. But I do, and jerk to a stop, folding double, coughing. He runs into me. I nearly topple. That prickling grip pulls me upright again. 

"What can I do to—" he starts, but the fire alarm cuts him off.

"I forgot to turn down the goddamn oven!" 

"I'll get it." He reaches out with his free hand. It's covered in deep red scales, his fingertips ending in delicately curved claws. 

Holy crap.

He's dexterous, able to work the knob, then swing down the oven door. Black smoke, oily with burning fats, cascades into our faces. I cover my mouth and nose with the edge of my Henley, eyes burning. 

"Oven mitts!" I warn. 

"Not necessary!" He's got the tray balanced in his claws. "Where should I—?" 

And that's when the fire suppression system kicks in. 

It lets out a sharp, high whistle that startles him so badly the claws of the hand holding my arm spasm. They go right through my shirt and into flesh. 

I holler. 

Five things happen at once. 

First, he drops the tray of scones. It clatters off the tile, sending burnt pucks of dough into the air. One smacks into my leg, and two pelt him as we dance away. 

Second, he yanks his claws out of my arm, blood on the tips, and freaking hell, it stings. 

Third, white foam pours from the pipes that ring the kitchen ceiling, coating every surface in a bitter-tasting cloud. Including us.

Fourth, the guy makes a sort of gurgling belch noise, then a sharp bony click accompanied by a spark that looks exactly like the kind you get from a lighter. 

Fifth, he spits fire. 

Right into the corner. Where the giant custom bean roaster is. The drum is perforated, and the beans inside it immediately go up in flames. They're so hot they burn blue. The steel drum starts to goddamn melt.

"Coc y gath," he gasps in horror, dithering on the spot.

"Holy shit," I say, clamping my hand down over the punctures in my arm.

"I'm terribly sorry!" he shouts over the sound of the alarm and the hiss of the foam deflating around us. "I didn't mean to—I was startled!" 

The urgency of the situation suddenly hits home, fire crawling up the wall toward the ceiling, and I scream: "Put it out!" 

"What do you want me to do? Suck it back up?" he shouts back, all his cool calm evaporating in the heat of the inferno. "I'm a dragon, not a fire extinguisher!" 

Well. 

Fuck this meet-cute straight to hell, then.

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#Coffee Sho pRomance #RomCom #Queer RomCom #Friends To Lovers #sunshine and grumpy #Secret Royalty #Fantasy #Contemporary Fantasy #Dragons #Dragon Romance #Mutual Pining #Two Halves Of A Whole Idiot #Meet Ugly #Meet Cute #Meet Awkward #Romantasy #romantasy books #romantasy booktok #romantasy reads #lgbtqa+ #queer romance #gay romance books #boys love #bi romance books #queer romance books #bisexual pride #wattpad #wattpad romance #wattpad reads #tbr

[cloud9in]

Promises (Poppy x MC) Part (2/?)

Read Part ONE (summary for fic is there)

ITS BEEN A MINUTE. @iamsimpforpoppy I hope you’re still around to read :P I love this story lol. Hope you guys do too!!!

Word Count (2.8k)

Bea and Poppy’s relationship became official a month after their initial meeting. One would say they moved quickly, too quickly. But every love story is different. This one in particular seemed to have little to none flaws, if you ignored the fact that Bea was promoted to Carter’s right hand woman in the Southside Spades.

 They did end up having that conversation after all.

 “…Are you sure Carter? I mean this is a huge deal and a special role-“

 “If I didn’t think you were capable you wouldn’t be here right now Goldilocks.”

 Carter winked and clinked his half empty beer bottle against Bea’s, who surprisingly had a nearly full bottle. He took note of the abnormality. 

 The blonde instinctively rolled her eyes at the nickname, “Okay but that name has to go. We need codenames……ooooh how about bimbo and himbo.” 

 “I’m guessing…..no, hoping I’m the himbo?!” Carter comments as he promptly tries to stop the laugh escaping from his lips.

 “Mmmmmmm, I’ll get back to you on that.”

 They share a laugh and Bea feels Carter’s gaze latch onto her in her peripherals. She could sense the shift of energy in the space between them, it almost felt uncomfortable, and that was something she never felt with Carter. “I never asked you if you were okay with such a role. If you aren't, I understand completely, I just want the best for you.”

 The blonde eyes soften at his comment and she looks at him, “never doubted that, where is this going though because you never express your feelings like a normal human being.”

 He pulls on the strings of her hoodie until it completely caves around her face, burying her whole.

 “Hey asshole!” 

 “That’s for talking too much.”

 Bea yanks her hoodie open and sticks her tongue out in a mock expression. “Oh boohoo. Poppy literally says the same thing, I don’t get it. I talk, it’s a problem. I don’t talk, it’s an even BIGGER problem. Damn a girl can’t ever exist in peace.”

 Carter places his bottle flat on the table and studies the blonde’s face. 

 She kept rambling on about her new girlfriend and the gang leader didn’t know it was possible to feel happy yet anxious at the same time. He was aware of when they entered the talking stage, went on their first date, and finally became official, because Bea told him everything. As much as the experience of being in a real relationship was new to her, Bea looked up to him and somehow she knew Carter would give her the best guidance possible. 

 It didn’t stop him from worrying. Like an older brother would. He feared the two would mix, and everyone knows that love and crime will eventually combust. He is no stranger to it.  

 “Bea.”

 “Did you know she stole one of my hoodies and actually won’t give it back?? What am I supposed to do, just take it? No she’d murder me.”

 “Jackson.”

 Her voice slowly dies down after sensing the seriousness in his tone. She takes a sip of her beer to ease the silence that sat in the air, and Carter responds shortly after.

 “You know I trust you with my life right? You’re very important to me, kid.” 

 “I know.”

 Guilt was a feeling he chose to lock away in an unbreakable box and bury six feet deep. There couldn’t be guilt in a lifestyle like this. But Bea was his only exception. And she was slowly bringing that box back up to the surface. 

 “I need you to promise me that you won’t let these two worlds collide.”

 “Carter….”

 “One of you will get hurt. And I won’t forgive myself if it’s you.”

 He leaves Bea at the table, the remnants of his comment still replaying in her head. She pulls out her phone and sees a text from Poppy on her lockscreen. 

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Can’t wait to see you tomorrow 😘 

 The blonde smiles unconsciously and opens the message to respond.

 I’m missing you like crazy. I have a special surprise for you.

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- You know I highly dislike surprises, just tell me. 

 And ruin the surprise? You must be crazier than I thought. 

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Jackson.

 Patience babe…tomorrow it is. 

 Bea clicks her phone shut and slips it back into her pocket before downing the rest of the beer. 

***

“You know your hand on my ass only makes them stare even more Jackson?”

 Bea bites her lips and gropes the blonde’s plump backside shamelessly while slowly whispering into her ear.

 “That’s the point, princess.”

 Poppy shivers almost instantly at the boldness. “Is this the surprise you were talking about?” Bea doesn’t answer, instead trailing her hand up Poppy’s skirt. This was definitely not the time and place for such behavior but she was clearly still learning everything about her girlfriend. 

 And it definitely felt good to call her that.

 “Since when did you get so brazen? You know you’re exactly the type of person my daddy told me to stay away from.”

 Bea laughs at that statement and wraps her arm around the blonde’s waist, “yeah? And why’s that?”

 “Well I can’t ask him now, he might rough you up and that’s my job.” 

 Poppy could feel the stares of everyone burning into them, but she could only focus on the blonde cuddled up against her. The shorter girl wouldn’t call herself an attention whore, but she sure loved the PDA that Bea projected without a care. It felt nice to be genuinely admired in public rather than putting on a mask everyday. 

 But it’s safe to say that Poppy preferred all the handsy stuff to happen in private. 

 “Do you want to grab dinner with me tonight Pops?”

 “Am I picking the place?”

 “…Yes.”

 “Then yes.”

 Bea rolls her eyes at the blonde’s downright shady self but smiles nevertheless. 

 “Now don’t cancel on me out of the blue. I will not be thrilled about it.”

 “Shouldn’t I be telling you this? Your dad always has something going on in his business that somehow has to involve you too.”

 Poppy sighs and glances over at Bea, “well you know I’ll have to take over eventually. Especially since I’m legally allowed to handle deals now.”

 “I hate that word. Legal. Ugh.” 

 The shorter girl scoffs and plants her hands on her hips, “yeah I bet you do.”

***

Bea dragged open her closet in search of clothes for dinner tonight but the dinging noise of a text distracts her. 

 C-Dog🖤- Need you tonight. Something came up, meet us at the garage.

Bea wanted to thank the gods up above that she didn’t promise Poppy that she’d show up for dinner. But that wasn’t going to save her from the fury of the blonde. Good thing it can’t get worse than that, right….?

Only it was. And Poppy will probably beat her up herself, if she wasn’t dead by the next day. 

Bea’s mind and heart races as she digs her brain for a proper excuse to tell her girlfriend, but is very unsuccessful. She’s good at drug dealing though. 

 Going with the good ole truth never really hurt right?

 Baby I’m so sorry I won’t be able to make it tonight. Got held up with the gang. I know I’m an asshole, I’ll keep in touch I swear. 

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- What else could I expect from my gang banger girlfriend 🙄 please stay safe..

 You know I always do.

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Do I? We need to talk about this tomorrow.

 Of course Pops.

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Call me every chance you get or I swear I’ll track you and trust me you do not want me to do that.

 Yeah she definitely doesn’t. Especially since Carter sounded frantic over the phone. The last thing Bea needed was a paranoid girlfriend, so she played it cool like always. 

 Just simple stuff baby girl, talk soon.

 ***

“…What do you mean it’s gone?! So where is it? Do you know what this means Carter??”

 The gang leader sighs frustratingly, rubbing his eyes in efforts to gain some stability. “The product was here, and now it is not. Which can only mean it was stolen. And when I find out which son of a bitch did it, they’re dead.”

 “In the meantime, we are dead”, Bea emphasizes wildly. “This is the Red Raven gang we’re talking about. If they get any inclination that we lost their drugs, they’ll kill and replace us. No mercy. None.”

The blonde paces back and forth trying not to think about buying a plane ticket to Timbuktu. 

Carter approaches Bea and plants his hands on her shoulder, “breathe Jackson. You are my partner. The leader of this gang. So get it out of your system and start being rational.”

 The blonde lets her shoulders sag as she inhales and exhales in place for a while. The minute she’s grounded she catches Carter’s gaze and her eyes light up. “List. I need a list of whoever went in the room with all of the product. We need to narrow it down.”

***

“Jackson you’re a fucking genius.”

 “It’s called having common sense but I’ll take the praise. It’s the only one I’m getting from you anyways.”

 Carter resisted the urge to pick a fight with the younger girl, because finding stolen drugs and not getting killed seemed like a much better idea. 

 Bea figured out that Henry, one of the newly recruited members of SS was a thief, or maybe just a crackhead. Same thing. He was the last to be in that room so all eyes were on him, and guns.

 “Heyyy buddy. Henry right?”

 The shorter man trembled at the sight of a gun lodged right into his mouth. “Mmmm!”

 “Oh I’m sorry, did you want to say something? Here let me just”, Bea clicks the gun which only causes the thief to panic even more. It was almost pitiful. 

 “Alright lay off the poor sucker.” 

 Bea pulls the gun out of his mouth and sits down on a stool in front of Henry with a grin. “So…where is the stash darling?” 

 He points almost immediately to a built in storage locker with a shaky finger. 

 “Ohhh well that was so easy Henry! Glad you could comply. You should tell your friends to be more like you. But…between me and you, they might already be dead”, Bea whispers that last part slowly, smirking when Henry’s lip quivers violently. 

 “Please just do it already! Why are you guys waiting?”

 Bea raised an eyebrow in surprise and glanced over at Carter who scanned the man’s face intensely. “I guess he wants to die? Talk about kinks I mean come on”

 “No.”

 Carter reaches his arm out towards Bea but never takes his eyes off Henry. The blonde watches in confusion until she realizes the thief is looking behind her, and so is Carter.

 “It’s a setup Bea, duck!”

 She dived for the ground quicker than lightning as a bullet flies through the air, leaving a trail of dust behind. Carter ducks for cover as well and starts firing rounds towards the men who snuck up on them. He managed to hit three of them but one grabs Bea by the leg and drags her against the rough concrete. 

 “Son of a- get your dirty hands off of my Dr. Martens. My girlfriend bought me these!”

 A swift kick to the face shut the blonde up real quick but she manages to recoil and send the man sprawling backwards into a row of barrels. 

 Carter guns him down and Bea finds her footing, pistol in hand and a thirst for revenge. But they never stopped coming. 

 Her and Carter were left battered and bruised, but alive. Their product was gone again though. But atleast they were alive. Carter told her that it was a theft mission primarily and neither of them were meant to die. But it only made Bea wonder who those people were.

 And why were they kept alive?

***

“Beatriz Naomi Jackson what the actual fuck?!”

 “Oh not the middle name…”

 Bea tries to avoid Poppy’s killer gaze as she surveys the damage that had been done to her girlfriend’s torso, legs, and face. 

 The strawberry blonde could barely mutter a word. Her mouth opened and closed in brief shock before collapsing next to the injured girl. 

 Bea could see the tears flowing down her rosy cheeks, which contrasted her porcelain skin. “Poppy…are you crying? I..please don’t..”

 “What do you expect me to do Bea? It kills me to see you hurt like this. Who did it? Tell me!” The blonde chokes on her own words as her hands hovers cautiously over Bea’s wounds, afraid to make her feel pain.

 “No I can’t tell you. I mean…I didn’t expect this to happen. It was a setup and we were outnumbered-“

 “We need to get you to a hospital Bea oh my god.”

 The blonde knew that she couldn’t go there. Not with the cops on the scene of the shootout, and actively looking for the people involved. Aka her and Carter. He told her to lay low and heal up, but she didn’t expect Poppy to be sitting on her bed waiting for her when she got home. The initial look on her face made Bea regret ever choosing this life. 

 She regrets it ever since being with Poppy. But it’s like a drug, once you start it’s hard to stop. 

 “I’ll call my father, he has the best doctors available and we’re gonna get your the right treatment and-“ 

 Poppy immediately cuts off, her eyebrows scrunching up until she realizes something. “Wait…what do you mean you were outnumbered Bea?” 

 Bea swallows heavily, praying that this conversation couldn’t escalate further, but that isn’t the case. 

 “Bea, answer me”

 “It..it was just me and Carter. We didn’t think there would be an ambush. We had just gone there to get goods we lost.”

 “And where is Carter? Does he know you’re like this right now? Did he leave you, I swear to god Bea if he left you…” Poppy’s voice cracks as her whole body shivers in violent waves. 

 Bea pulls her girlfriend in for a hug even though it causes every inch of her body to sting harshly. It was the comfort that she needed though. Watching Poppy breakdown over the sight of her was too much, and she began to contemplate everything. 

 “Pops listen to me, I cannot go to the hospital right now. There are cops looking for us.” The strawberry blonde stares at her until she understands the velocity of Bea’s words. 

 “Fine. But there will be a doctor that will come to treat you at my house. And you’re coming, I don’t want to hear it.” 

 Bea knew not to protest that. It was quite obvious this whole incident has left both parties distraught and she didn’t want to try and tell Poppy how to feel. 

 “Just tell me something. Are you in immediate danger? Is someone trying to harm you right now.”

 The blonde chose her words carefully. Because even after coming home beaten to a pulp, she still couldn’t tell the love of her life the full truth. 

 “No Poppy, they just wanted the drugs. They got what they wanted. I’m not in danger.”

 For now.

 “I will be okay.”

 I hope.

 “Don’t lie to me Jackson. I can’t do this if you lie. You promised me you wouldn’t get to the point where you’d have to choose between me and the gang.”

 “I know Poppy…I-“

 “You promised.”

 “And I’m going to keep that promise-“

 “Yeah the hell you are. And you’re going to promise me that you won’t ever come home like this again. You’re going to get yourself killed before we even start our life together. Our future.”

 Bea sucks in a breath which punctures her chest. She couldn’t tell if the injuries or Poppy’s words had caused that terrible ache. “Our…Wait I..”

 “I love you Jackson. I…don’t care if you think it’s too early to say that. I don’t care if I sound too cheesy for a mean girl. I love kissing you and feeling the laughter run through your body when we hug. I love being the reason you smile. I love you. And you don’t have to say it back. I just..I needed you to know-“

 “I love you too. Probably maybe from the moment I met you.”

 Poppy’s eyes seemed to glisten once again and this time there was no sadness etched into the shape. She smiled a pure smile and wrapped her arms around Bea in a tight hug. 

 She captures her lips in a searing kiss that leads to a trail of kisses down the strawberry blonde’s neck, dip of her collarbone, and chest. Bea kisses her until her chest gives out from exhaustion and pain.

 “Then you have to promise that this won’t happen again.” 

 “I promise.”

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NOTES: They’re gonna be fineeeee, right guys??? Graduation next chapter woooo.

Tags: @samanthadalton @somewillwin @clowneryme  @baexpoppy @poppysmc @doey-eyes8 @veenast @straightlikewetspaghetti @phoennixxsblog

#i came up with that middle name on the spot lmaooo #no bug motivation this time just pepsi #poppy min sinclair #queen b #playchoices #mc x poppy

[flamehairedwritings]

hi! could you do some hcs about hopper and his gf going to a fancy event and him being all handsy?

I’m so sorry this has taken so long!! Thank you so much for requesting this, I hope you’re doing okay!

NSFW below the cut!

Hopper hates going out.

Actually, hate is a strong word.

He hates going somewhere he doesn’t know. He doesn’t like going out. If he could, he’d hole up in his trailer until the end of time with beer, his record player, crime novels and a TV.

That was before he met you. When he did... well, he kind of started to like going out, as long as it was with you. In your first few months of dating, you went to the cinema, to restaurants, to shops, to his favourite bar, over to his colleagues’ houses for BBQs and dinners and he found that maybe, slightly, a little bit, sometimes, he enjoyed himself. As long as you were back at his or yours by midnight.

‘oKaY CiNdErElLa’ you are oft to say as he pulls his jacket on and eyes up the door.

The Hawkins City Hall Gala is an event that happens every year, once a year to celebrate the bravest and best of Hawkins, with some citizens invited who are honoured, and officials and those from the police, hospital and fire department also in attendance. It sounds fancy? It isn’t. As much as Mayor Kline likes to put on a show, get all those invited dressed up to the nines and free champagne going, it’s just an adult version of a school awards assembly.

Hopper has to go. Has to. When he once tried to decline, Kline sent a huge gift basket to his trailer and to the Station every day until he called and said ‘ACTUALLY YES I WILL COME’.

Usually he goes with his work buddies and they bring their wives or girlfriends and they’ll hang around in a corner drinking and eating until the awards ceremony starts and then they’ll all sit together at the back bored out of their minds.

You’ve been dating for nearly six months when it comes round to it, and he invites you, in the way that Hopper would invite.

‘It’s just a shitty little ego parade thing for Kline, some people are good there, they deserve the awards sometimes, but more often than not it’s just some kids and old people gettin’ ‘em for living a long time or doing the most paper rounds or some shit like that, but the food’s good and the drinks are free ‘cause Kline wants everyone to have a good time and it finishes at about 11 and then there’s the after-party which is usually shitty, too, so we can just come home or go to a bar with the guys and their girls or just come home, I don’t mind.’

‘... So do you want me to come.’

‘Yeah. If you’re not busy or have anything better to do ‘cause really it is so shitty─’

‘I’ll come.’

‘You sure? It’s really shitty, it’s just the worst─’

‘Stop, I’m coming.’ you will be

On the night, you’ll be dressed up to the nines like everyone else, wearing your favourite outfit, which also happens to be Hop’s favourite outfit on you, but he likes anything on you so it doesn’t exactly count, and he’s in a suit, one hand in his pocket, the other holding yours.

After being greeted by Kline and his wife on the steps, the Mayor’s constant grin verging on maniacal, Hop’ll make a beeline for the nearest drinks and you’ll just have caught up with him when he’s heading to a corner, his colleagues already there with their partners. They’ll have hoarded some food and beer and champagne bottles already and you’ll resign yourself to the not so terrible idea of just hanging out here all night.

Hop’s hand will settle on your lower back and a conversation with start up about the food or the drink or Kline, in hushed tones, and that’ll be it.

Except you start to feel Hopper’s hand drifting down a little.

And then a lot.

Your back is to the wall, so no one can see, but you’re very much hoping no one notices your slightly widening eyes, your lips parting then quickly closing, and the hitching in your breath.

Hopper, on the other hand, is cool as a cucumber, nodding and carrying out a conversation with Powell without missing a beat. His hand is now fully cupping your ass, fingers splaying and gently caressing. You have to fight very hard to stop your back from arching.

You bastard...

What is it about him and his touch that has you turned on in seconds?

His fingers drift lower, sliding in until they’re near your covered pussy, and damn him...

Your attention is drawn away, momentarily, by someone standing at the other end of the room calling for everyone’s attention. As the preliminary speeches start, your little group quietens, but Hopper’s hand doesn’t move.

It slides even closer, his fingers caressing in slow, light circles.

You have to fight so hard to keep your breathing even, your hands clasped tightly in front of you.

Hopper shifts his stance slightly, his head leaning down, and he murmurs into your ear so only you can hear;

‘I bet you’re wet already, aren’t you.’

Oh, fuck.

Clearing your throat, you smile politely at your group and excuse yourself quietly, saying you need to use the restroom. Hopper’s hand slides off your ass, but not before his fingers give a slight squeeze.

Message received.

You have to ask one of the staff where the restroom even is, hoping your slightly flushed and faintly jittery attitude will just be interpreted as confusion and a desperate need to go.

She points towards a grand staircase and tells you to go right before it. You do, your heart pounding with anticipation.

God, this place is fancy.

Hopper mutters all the time about how Kline has poured the majority of the town’s money into this place, and, hell, next time he mutters you’re going to join him.

There are three doors, all having a gold ‘W/C’ on them. You open the furthest one at the end of the corridor and step in, quickly closing the door behind you and leaving it unlocked before you survey the room. It’s very fancy.

Gold everywhere. Gold everything.

You pull a slight face at trying to take it all in, the slightly dim lighting shining off of it all.

Then, the door opens behind you.

Turning, you watch Hopper step in, your breath catching in your throat. His eyes are on you, darker, focused. Closing the door, he doesn’t even blink as he locks it.

‘Are you?’ he asks in a low, gravelled tone.

Your three seconds of silence are just to tease him.

‘Yes.’

He closes the distance between you in two seconds.

Hands cupping your face, he captures your lips in a fierce, demanding kiss, long fingers spreading across the sides of your neck. You return it instantly, hands gripping at the back of his suit jacket to both steady yourself and keep him against you.

He’ll take you hard against the counter, your hands having to grip the sink as he thrusts into you from behind, hands tight on your hips.

‘Look at me...’ he’ll growl, and you’ll lift your gaze, meeting his in the reflection of the gilded mirror as moans tumble from your lips. ‘... Yeah... Look at me while I fuck you, sweetheart... while my cock’s deep inside you... I want you to look at me while I feel you cum...’

No one will notice that it takes you both ten minutes to return, and that you’re still trying to catch your breath, and his shirt is rumpled, tie now knotted too tightly.

It’ll only take a few moments for his hand to return to your ass, and a smile will pull at your lips, his last words to you lingering in your mind.

‘Oh, you just wait until we’re home, sweetheart...’

—

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#chief jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x reader #hopper x reader #are we easing back in still? #we're easing back in #jim hopper #my writing #flamehairedwritings

[faunusrights]

yeah, all i got is this belly button lint: a happy huntresses short fic

wrote this real quick because i love thinking about the random crap fiona has in her Inventory(tm). also i just like thinking about these clowns in general, so,

=

"Okay, so, what's actually in your Semblance right now?" Joanna asks one day in third year, when Fiona and May have sneaked away to Robyn's dorm to lose at cards and help edit her new batch of flyers promoting union creation in the workplace. Fiona had given a couple a look and accepted them as good enough, but May is weirdly exacting about her standards and is currently trying to convince Robyn to nudge the text headers over by ten pixels to the right. That's why, as she's sat on the floor and wrapped up in the drama of watching Robyn try and slowly fail to ignore May's insistent pleas for her to boot up her editor, Fiona's caught just a little bit off-guard by the question.

"My Semblance?" she asks, and Joanna nods all serious-like from her place on the bunk above Robyn. Joanna often looks very serious, because she suffers from what Robyn calls resting thoughtful bitch face, so sometimes it's hard to gauge how actually serious about something she really is. "I mean, it's probably a mess in there right now."

"I keep forgetting you actually use it like storage space," Robyn adds cheerfully, having now progressed onto shoving May away from her laptop computer every time she tries to creep closer. "Since most Semblances are, y'know, combat-only things or like... special occasions, I guess. And yet here you are, telling people you really don't need a bag for all your groceries!"

It is fun to flex on all the people struggling to carry like six bags to their car or their home, and Fiona preens. "Yeah, it's nice. I mostly keep things in it that I'd wanna have in an emergency, but it's been a while since I last sorted through it, so, who knows what garbage I've put in there."

"Tell me Robyn's braincell is in there too," May says imploringly, still trying to slide an arm around Robyn to get at the keyboard, but Fiona just shakes her head. She can't and won't be blamed for that particular disappearance any time soon. Instead, she rubs her hands together, scrunching up her face as she tests the edges of the Semblance. It's a funny thing, a Semblance like this--she never really has to think about it, but it's always just in reach, like this extra weight in her chest that she can totally forget about. It's strange to think about, so she often just doesn't.

"Okay," she starts, and she goes for the biggest item she can sense, which is an easy one to explain. In her hands materialises an acoustic guitar, worn and scuffed with age, and this attracts to attention of every girl in the room. "Well, this one's easy. This is my guitar, and honestly? If I ever leave it behind in the meatspace and don't pick it up on my way out the door, know that you've just seen my evil clone and you have to kill her."

Joanna blinks, and Robyn seems caught between asking about the guitar, the evil clone, and also the fact that Fiona insists on referring to the physical world as the meatspace. So, she does as Robyn does best, and settles on an expletive. "Shit! You play?"

"Been playing since I was... like seven? Something like that." Fiona shrugs, because she really can't be sure; her first vague memory of even seeing this guitar was a long time ago, her uncle telling her it used to belong to her grandmother who'd never managed to learn a damn thing on it. So, Fiona had taken up practice, if only because it was something for a little lowlands Mantellian Faunus to do during the long, cold polar nights and the endless sunshine of the midnight sun. "But, yeah, this is always on me in some form or another."

"You should've played it whilst we were on watch our last mission," May says, with a certain scowl that Fiona knows is 100% directed at their team leader, who is currently off doing... some sort of bullshit with their partner, no doubt. Gods, this team is a nightmare. "All those hours trying to stay awake so we could stare into nothing..."

"Sorry," Fiona says, and she means it. She'd intended to, but, well, she'd sort of chickened out. The echo in the mountains is kind of insane. "Next time?"

May nods, but Joanna cuts off whatever she's about to say next by waving her hands through the air like she can physically dissipate the conversation. "Okay, okay, cool, but now I gotta else you got hiding in there."

Re-compressing her guitar--and oh, is Fiona thankful that dematerialising and rematerialising it doesn't leave it out of tune--Fiona has a mental root around. "Uh, okay, so, we've got--"

In no particular order, she starts pulling things out: a pair of thick gloves for the brutal Solitas chill, an extra pair of socks (hugely understated by most, but never by Fiona), a ushanka that Robyn instantly cheers for, and a couple of jackets ranging from light windbreakers to thick furred jackets that feel like she's wearing a mattress around her ribs. Her Scroll and wallet are in there too, naturally, as are her keys and some extra ammunition, and she pulls out a load of old train tickets with a grimace. "Hm. I was meant to throw these away years ago."

"You're basically carrying around a wardrobe in there, then?" May asks in a way that'd maybe be a little teasing if she didn't look about as jealous as she sounds, but it becomes a thoughtful expression when Fiona shakes her head again.

"Bold of you to think I haven't got a whole pantry in here too," she says, and now Joanna looks very interested. "Check this out."

The first thing she pulls out is a gallon jug of clean water--endlessly fucking useful, she's found, especially when you're in some situation where you can't sit on your ass for an hour waiting for the water purification tablets to do their job--before pulling out a whole host of Atlesian MREs that she keeps around just in case shit really does hit the fan. Atlas rations are... not good, in a phrase, but she's owed them her life more than once, so, whatever.

"What dates are on those?" May quickly interrupts with a critical eye, trying to make out the printed numbers on the snow-patterned packets, and Fiona tosses her one if only to distract May's hands from trying to puzzle out Robyn's password when Robyn isn't directly paying attention.

"Things don't really degrade in my Semblance," Fiona admits. "I've tested it before on stuff with a short shelf-life, like cheese and milk, and honestly I can leave it in there for months and have it come out just as fresh as when it went in. Something to do with a sort of... internal stasis, I guess." Then, she adds, "One thing in my Semblance is a goldfish in a bowl, but he's part of a practical theory I'm running, so I can't materialise him for another fifteen years or so."

"That sounds very normal," Joanna says, and Fiona is glad she agrees as she barrels right over the inherent sarcasm.

As May agonises over finding the date, though, Fiona continues to unveil her pantry--there's plenty of snacks, like dried fruit and nuts and energy bars and chocolate, and when she reveals she carries extra for every member of her team and then some (then some in this instance being Robyn and Joanna, not that she'll admit it), Robyn looks delighted. "That's so sweet! Look at you, making sure nobody goes hungry. You're one in a million."

That's cute and very gay, but Fiona has a lot of stuff to be working through and so she keeps on going--there's a flask of coffee that, thanks to the maybe-stasis, is eternally hot, a bottle of dark Mantellian ale she keeps as, uh, moral support, and she blushes when she pulls out half an uneaten tuna sandwich. "I wondered where that went. Whoops."

May looks up from the MRE for a second, and then does a double-take as she takes in the sight of the very limp and sad-looking sandwich, made courtesy of the Atlas Academy cafeteria. "Wait! Isn't that the sandwich you accused me of stealing last month?!"

"Anyway!" Fiona says with a forced grin, quickly making it disappear back into the void where it can safely continue not existing. "I think the final thing in here is... wait."

She blinks, and suddenly in her hands are at least a hundred little booklets entitled The Pocket Guide to Communist Outreach, scattering right over the floor. Robyn yelps, and then reaches down the side of her bunk to pick them up. "Oh shit! I forgot I asked you to hold onto these! I thought we ran out, nice."

Joanna's face is in her hands, and May sighs long and hard before tossing the MRE back to Fiona with a distinctly pained expression.

"It goes out of date in a month," she notes with distaste, and Fiona just sucks it up without a word. She'll be thankful for it when they end up down a dark cave with no backup, but Fiona figures she'll sit on that one for a bit before being able to make the greatest told you so call in history. She can wait.

"So," she says, watching as May takes advantage of Robyn's momentary distraction to try and access her computer again. "I guess... do you wanna hear me play a song?"

Joanna watches as her partner leans too far over the side of the bunk, yelping as she nearly slams her head directly into the hard vinyl of the floor, and she grimaces. "Please do."

Grinning, Fiona finds her guitar again--somewhere buried, she mentally notes, beside the gallon of water but under the coats--and she slings the broad strap about her shoulders before settling it on her lap, crossing her legs tightly beneath herself before finding her place on the fretboard. After having not played since being back home, it relaxes her more than she'd ever realised it did. It helps to be surrounded by friends, though. Helps to be with family.

"I don't take requests," she adds, flatly, and Robyn laughs from her place on the floor before music fills the dorm, soft and deep and achingly familiar of a place far, far below.

But she's okay with calling this place home, too.

#is the title really a spongebob refer-- #rwby #happy huntresses #fiona thyme #robyn hill #may marigold #joanna greenleaf #my writing #sorry this was in my brain for a while there sdfhjgsdfgjh #BUT ITS OUT NOW. ITS FREE. #what else would you have called this #fiona doesn't mention this but she also has emergency condoms and a literal handgun. just in case. #JUST IN CASE...

[ravenluvsppnbc]

BECHLOE WEEK DAY FOUR

today’s prompt was “near death” so this is what i did. what a clutz move beca. enjoy.

“The air smelled of grease and sweat. Gross. But it was a carnival, so it seemed less gross at that minute. The Bellas arrived at three, minus Chloe, who unfortunately had to work. The sun was shining and children ran all around. 

The Bellas played rigged games, ate gross fair food, and rode rides for a few hours before Aubrey spotted the ferris wheel. Aubrey claimed that you always had to go on it. It’s a classic ride. So, ten college girls joined the line for the ferris wheel. It seemed like a long line, but it moved fairly quickly. After only about twenty minutes, the girls were able to board the ride.

Emily squeezed into a car with Beca, as the other girls found their way into the seats. It was a pleasant ride. The sun was just beginning to set as the wheel turned. Beca thought about Chloe, and how she would love to watch the sunset from up here. She snapped a photo to show her later. Beca and Chloe had been dating for around six months now—Chloe was kinda all Beca could think about. She loved everything about her.

Beca and Emily shared a nice conversation as the ride went on. Suddenly the ride stopped. Beca looked down. They were already unloading. Beca watched as an old couple exited the ride. The ride starts and then stops, again. This time, they’re at the top. “Oh my god what is that?” Emily shouted, looking down at their seat.

Beca jolted to the side, shaking the cart, when she noticed the huge spider who had apparently been riding the ferris wheel with them. “What the hell,” She said, shaking her hand towards it, “Get out!” This only seemed to anger the spider.

The two girls both start freaking out, trying, desperately, to move the spider. The whole seat is shaking now. “Sit still in your seat please, we will be unloading you shortly.” A man shouts from below them. Neither of them register it, as the spider is still planning on coming along for the ride.

Then it happens. The mistake. Beca leaned forward, shooing the spider off of the seat, only to go with it. She fell over the rail, tumbling to the ground. Emily starts panicking. Screaming, as she watched Beca hit the ground. “Get me off please! My friend is dying!”

The wheel slowly turns again, letting Aubrey and Stacie exit the ride. “Shit!” Aubrey yells, rushing through the crowd of people in line. 

“Chloe is gonna kill us.” Stacie mumbles, scrambling over to the other side of the ride.

“What the hell happened Emily!?” Aubrey shouts when Emily exits the ride. The crowd of people gathered around Beca is huge. Everyone is trying to help her up. She can barely catch her breath.

“She just. Fell. I don’t know.” Emily said, pulling Beca up off of the ground. Beca winces as she tries to walk. The Bellas can tell that she’s trying to hide the amount of pain she’s in. Maybe that’s just her. 

Amy carries Beca to the car, where the girls start arguing, after they start driving. “So. Which one of you guys wants to call Chloe and explain this? I’m driving, so it can’t be me.” Aubrey says, looking in the rearview mirror. 

“Not me. Chloe’s gonna go insane.” Stacie says, looking back at the rest of the girls.

“Word. I vote Emily. I mean, you were in the same seat as her. It’s half your fault.” Amy says, half jokingly, pointing to Emily.

“Okay. I guess that’s fair. I mean there was no way I could have stopped her from falling, but..”

“Emily. Phone. Now.” Aubrey said, pulling out of the parking lot.

“Right.” Emily mumbles, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket. She dials Chloe’s number, and listened to it ring. 

“Hey Emily, are you guys having fun?” Chloe asked. God. Why does Chloe have to be so happy? Emily was so nervous. She was about to give horrible news.

“Don’t be mad.” Emily says, her voice shaking, as she puts Chloe on speakerphone. 

“What did you do?” Chloe asked, immediately growing suspicious. 

“Well. It’s kinda dumb. I don’t really know how to tell you.”

“Where are you? Put Beca on the phone.” Chloe demands.

“Beca…” Emily starts, and then looks around at the girls in the car, “Is a little tied up right now. Um. Can I take a message?”

“Emily. Don’t be an ass. Just tell her what happened. Stop stalling.” Aubrey chimed in, from the front of the car, still trying to focus on driving. She’s definitely speeding.

“What happened?”

“Beca is injured.” Emily says, Stacie shooting her a confused look.

“Where are you?”

“We’re pulling up at the hospital.” Emily said, examining their surroundings.

“Emily. I swear to God. If my girlfriend isn’t in one piece when I get there, you’re dead.”

“Got it. See you soon.” Emily said, rushing to unbuckle her seatbelt.

-

“What can I do for you ladies?” A man nurse says, as the girls enter the hospital.

“My friend here, fell off of a ferris wheel like ten minutes ago. I don’t know how American hospitals work, but whatever you can do to like fix that issue would be good.” Amy blurted out, chuckling.

The nurse immediately rushes them all to a hospital room where they sit Beca down and start checking everything. “Alright, we’re just gonna ask you guys to stand outside while we run some tests and get her all fixed up.”

“Okay. But beware. Her girlfriend is on the way and is definitely gonna go psycho. Just letting you know ahead of time.” Stacie says, as the nurse closes the door.

“Yeah. Legacy that’s yours to deal with.” Amy says, pointing her finger at Emily, again.

Sure enough. Just a few minutes later, Chloe arrives at the hospital. “Where is she?” Chloe asked, approaching the group.

“Uh we can’t see her yet, they’re doing… whatever it is that they do when they do ‘tests’” Aubrey says, pulling Chloe into a hug. Chloe’s eyes are full of worry and fear. 

A few moments of silence pass, all of the girls trying to avoid telling Chloe of the days events. Chloe is the first to break the silence. “So is no one going to tell me what the hell happened?” she shouted, with a bit more anger and way louder than she had intended to.

“Well. Emily, if you want to…” Aubrey started, before Chloe interrupted.

“Yeah Emily, if you could tell me what’s going on, that would be great.”

“So, we were just y’know, riding rides and stuff. We all decided to get on the ferris wheel together. And it was all going okay until they were unloading.” Emily starts to explain, using an unnecessary amount of hand gestures. “We were just waiting to be unloaded and this huge spider just walked into our uh. Our seat. And we were both kinda freaking out. Beca moved to the side and the whole seat started to like move around, and then she moved forward and fell off… the ferris wheel…”

“You let Beca fall off the ferris wheel?”

“I don’t know how good my reaction time is but-”

“Not good enough.” Chloe interrupted, anxiously pacing the hallway.

“Chloe-”

“She could have died, Emily!”

“Chloe I don’t think she’s going to die, don’t worry.” Aubrey said, grabbing Chloe.

“I just. I can’t-” Chloe started, bursting into tears. 

“I know.” Aubrey said, pulling her into a hug.

-

After a while, the nurse comes back out of the room and announced that they can go in to see her now. He begins to walk the group towards a room. Stretching out his hand to the door, the girls begin to enter. Chloe pushes through the small crowd, entering the room first. She slams the door behind her, throwing her coat onto the floor.

“Yeah that’s the-” Amy starts to say.

“Psycho girlfriend?” The nurse finishes, chuckling. The girls all hum in response. “Ah. Gotcha. I’ll come back in a few minutes.”

Beca turns her head, smiling to see her girlfriend. She is wearing a cast on her wrist and has scratches on her face. Her forehead also houses a bruise. Chloe caresses Beca’s cheek, dragging her finger across a scratch.

“Dude you can’t do that. Scared the shit out of me.” Chloe says, smiling at her girlfriend.

“Do what?”

“Fall off a ferris wheel? Are you crazy?” Chloe exclaims, pulling her girlfriend into a tight hug, running her hand up and down her back.

Beca pulls away after a moment and looks at Chloe. “Yeah, crazy for you.”

 “Beca. You almost just died. And you’re flirting?”

“Yeah. It was just like when I fell for you.” Beca says, her eyes scanning Chloe’s body. Chloe hums, smiling into beca’s lips as they connect with her own. What had gotten into Beca? She giggled as Chloe sat down on the hospital bed. “You’re pretty.”

“I love you.” Chloe blurts out. For the first time. A smile that Chloe has never seen before appears on Beca’s face. A smile so big. She climbed into Chloe’s lap, kissing her lips.

“I love you too.” Beca whispers just an inch away from her girlfriend’s lips. Beca had just begun kissing Chloe’s neck, when there was a knock at the door.

“Hello? Are you guys done with hospital makeout shit? We want to see the bitch who fell off the ferris wheel. Make sure she’s not dead.” Amy yelled from outside the door. Chloe instantly started chuckling.

“She’s not dead!” She shouted, Beca giggling into her neck as the door swung open. The nurse enters the room again, accompanied by ten a cappella girls, who immediately bombard Beca with questions. Beca falls back into Chloe’s arms as the conversation continues.

When it was time to leave, the whole room is soon in tears of laughter, including the nurse, who quickly became friends with the Bellas.

As soon as they get into the car, Chloe deciding to drive a few of the girls back home so that they wouldn’t be squished into Aubrey’s car, Beca finds a permanent marker. “Hey, wanna sign this shit?”

“Obviously.” Chloe says, taking the pen, scribbling away.

“Better be cool,” Beca says, waiting.

It takes a second for Beca to readjust to view her cast. “Chloe Beale’s lover?!” Beca shouts, reading the new inscription on her cast. The whole car erupts in laughter.”

#bechloe week 2021 #bechloeweek #pitch perfect #pitch perfect fan #beca mitchell #bechloe #beca+chloe #chloe beale

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 276: Our Turn to Save You

Previously on BnHA: In a refreshing change of pace from the usual “the adults refuse to tell the kids anything” shtick, Deku and Kacchan flew around trying to get Tomura’s attention while refusing to explain jack shit to Endeavor! Deku eventually thought to ask Kacchan why he was getting in on this, and Kacchan launched into a two-page Denial Speech which seemed expressly designed to prime him for losing his quirk any fucking second now! Tomura then showed up and the two of them were all “KJSDLFK” but thankfully Gran dove in to rescue them from dying INSTANTANEOUS HORRIBLE DEATHS, and reminded them that there are practically SIX WHOLE GROWN-UPS left who can definitely still fight Tomura and won’t die at all!! And one of those grown-ups is Aizawa! Who’s getting ready to fight Tomura now! Listen Horikoshi you fucker, when I asked for more Aizawa angst and badassery this ISN’T WHAT I –

Today on BnHA: Tomura is all “THIS QUIRK WON’T STOP ME BECAUSE I CAN’T READ” and sort of shrugs it off and continues to kick ass even though his Decay and AFO powers aren’t working. The pros all try to stop him with Endeavor taking the lead, and because THEY ALL SUCK, APPARENTLY, nothing they do is effective in any way whatsoever! Meanwhile Gran dumps Deku and Kacchan off and is all “YOU’LL BE FINE HERE” which is the most ridiculous thing anyone in this manga has ever said, and then pretty much as soon as he says it at least nine more High Ends (excuse me, NEARLY High Ends) just POP UP OUT OF NOWHERE and are all “RARR” and the heroes are all “oh shit” and Tomura is all “lol yeah I actually had more High Ends this whole time” and Ujiko is all “it’s true!” and, fuck. The chapter ends with Tomura charging in to kill Aizawa only to be intercepted by MY TWO PRECIOUS BABIES, MY DARLING LITTLE HERO HATCHLINGS, and...!! I blame Gran for this.

gotta say, my sense of time is distorted enough as it is these days without chapter leaks coming out A WHOLE ENTIRE DAY EARLY out of nowhere. not that I’m complaining, because I want to see Aizawa kick some ass & immediately lose his fucking quirk as much as anyone, but it is disorienting

anyway time to dive into this chapter which I predict will be titled “everything instantly goes horribly wrong.” I’ve had a lot of time these past two weeks to think about what is going to happen next, and I’m pretty sure I nailed it you guys

so we’re opening with a familiar sight

I like that Horikoshi thinks that helicopters go “chop chop.” well, close enough

anyway, so yet again we have a scene in BnHA of a town in the process of being destroyed by villains while a helicopter whirs (WHIRS, Horikoshi) and chuffs (SOMETIMES THEY CHUFF TOO) anxiously nearby. I wonder if this helicopter is going to fucking disintegrate. that’d be something new

ARE YOU GOING TO DIE, MISTER LIVE REPORTER SIR. OH MAN. OH GOD I’M ANXIOUS

dozens, you guys! there are dozens of them left! not to worry then. the good guys definitely still got this

oh hey it’s that news anchor with the cutely fucked-up backstory of chopping off his own horn so as to more handsomely report the news

oh god don’t tell me this whole thing is going to be broadcast live. that’s all we fucking need right now. I wonder what’s going to throw society into chaos more, the reveal of just how powerful Tomura is now, or the exposure of what the government-mandated child soldiers get to do during their super-educational practical on-the-job training! no coffee-fetching for these kiddos! we’ve got ‘em rolling up their sleeves and getting their hands good and dirty!

oh hey and it looks like this means that All Might will get to watch protege #2 lose his quirk live on TV -- HEY WHAT ARE YOU SERIOUS

BAD BABYSITTER!! MY GOD MAN, I KNOW YOU’RE THE INDULGENT GRANDFATHER TYPE, BUT MAYBE CONSIDER CHANGING THE CHANNEL TO DOC MCSTUFFINS FOR THE TIME BEING??!

also I know this is just a perspective thing probably but lmao his hand on her shoulder is fucking huge. All Might you been working out again

but seriously this is not good for either of them to witness. they don’t need more trauma in their lives! All Might doesn’t need yet another thing to blame himself over! and he has conflicted feelings about Tomura still on top of that which I’m sure isn’t going to make this any easier. ANGST ALL AROUND. EVERYWHERE YOU LOOK, EVERYWHERE YOU GOOOO

MOTHERFUCKER I --

is Mitsuki looking at fucking baby pictures of Kacchan. reliving the memories of the good old days, thinking about how far her baby boy has come and how proud she is. that’s just great you guys. that’s just fucking great. these aren’t even red flags at this point these are red fucking tapestries

(ETA: and this basically goes without saying, but I’m sure the fact that not one but THREE Todorokis are represented in this little montage means that Endeavor and Shouto are also going to be just fine.)

:)

HE’S SO HAPPY just fucking try and tell me he doesn’t have a mental fucking link to Tomura and Deku you guys. this bitch knows exactly what is going down right now and he is LIVING FOR IT. that does it. someone please save my spot in the chapter for me I am going to go take a quick walk to calm down

and of COURSE that’s a fucking lie though, god -- [frantically clicks to next page]

LOL HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS

FUCKING MANUAL IS HERE TO SAVE THE DAY LMAO. YOU CAN ALL FUCKING RELAX NOW. and fuck me, I’m so fucking happy RockLockRock is still alive as well but WHY ARE YOU STANDING RIGHT NEXT TO AIZAWA IN WHAT I LIKE TO CALL THE “CAUTION: YOU WILL GET SHOT” ZONE. swear to god Horikoshi THAT MAN HAS A FAMILY don’t you even think about -- !!

sigh, anyway so then the rest of the page is panels of Gran & The Boys, Endeavor, and Tomura, along with the text “WHICH SIDE IS THE VICTOR”, which is not helping matters any! also the title of the chapter is “Cheating” which I assume is a reference to both the erasure of Tomura’s quirk, and the soon-to-happen permanent removal of Aizawa’s. I’m just an optimist like that

oh hey and Tomura’s sending out some quick orders to his squad as well

and to think this homicidal maniac is in my top ten favorite characters. sob. I do love you kiddo so please don’t take it personally that I have to unequivocally root against you here. maybe if you listened to me once in a while and would even just consider my radical alternate plan of not killing anyone in sight

anyway lol but here everyone including myself thought he was going straight for the bullets and instead he was pulling out his phone. shows what we know. [braces myself for the follow-up panel of him putting the phone away again and THEN reaching for the bullets!!]

meanwhile we’re being introduced to some new sidekick of Endeavor’s who’s probably going to set the record for shortest time in between being introduced and dying horribly. sorry Kido. I’m just jaded

don’t mind me I’m just putting up emotional walls in between myself and any new lovable characters as a means of self-preservation. mmhmm. he can manipulate the trajectory of things. that’s nice. he seems nice. wouldn’t that be a nice quirk for Tomura to steal and then trajector a bullet straight towards Aizawa ffffff

(ETA: watch this space, everyone. Endeavor’s Sidekick Kido. gonna fuck everything up for everyone, mark my words.)

so I can’t help but notice that now that Tomura can’t use his quirk anymore and is helpless, they have all decided to just sit around doing nothing again?

like. far be it from me to openly wonder why they are not immediately knocking him out or setting him on fire again or whatnot. I am just a lowly civilian. it’s not my job to question these things

(ETA: I must learn to be patient.)

also lmao at Manual saying Aizawa’s ankle is “twisted”, similar to how Deku is constantly “twisting” all of his arms and legs all the time. or did he mean “twisted” in the sense that his leg was pretty much literally wrung out like a fucking towel

anyway so Manual is waterbending liquid into Aizawa’s eyes like that’s supposed to help him NOT close them

has Horikoshi ever had water splashed into his fucking eyes. he and I have had very different experiences as to the effects of this apparently

there we go!!

at least someone out here is fucking trying. for a second there I was honestly worried we were going to see a repeat of “oh well he seems dead enough, let’s just leave, see you at the victory party this weekend, X-Less”

LMAO WHAT KIND OF NONSENSE

[GRABS THESE PANELS AND WAVES THEM IN FRONT OF THE UNCONSCIOUS HAWKS] DID YOU HEAR THAT. DO YOU SEE THAT, BOYO. FACTS. BEING WEAK TO FIRE IS, IN FACT, 100 PERCENT A CHOICE. IF YOU HAD JUST DONE MORE PUSH-UPS AND TRAINED HARDER YOU WOULDN’T BE IN THIS SITUATION RIGHT NOW. SMDH. YOU FUCKING WIMP. YOU RECREANT. YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED

hooooh man. hokay. whew. has anyone seen my suspension of disbelief. I’m so used to having it on me at all times when I read this manga that I must have let my guard down and now it seems I’ve spaced it out. well we’ll just keep a lookout for it

so now we’re cutting to Ujiko who is gleefully bragging that Tomura’s strength is on par with All Might Prime’s, which is just great. and now he’s also starting this sentence and then just... not... finishing it

that’s fine. you just trail off, then. hang those implications. whatever dude

meanwhile RLR and Manny are helping Aizawa limp away while he awkwardly has to twist his neck around to be able to still keep Tomura in his line of sight. I feel like there was probably a better way for them to do this but whatever

anyway thanks for confirming that Ujiko did make Tomura into a Noumu in addition to giving him AFO, though, Horikoshi! that’s very nice of you to unsink one of my theories like that. appreciate it

and hold up, so it occurs to me that “Being Fireproof” could still be a quirk, but just a mutant-type quirk rather than an activation type, meaning that Erasure would have no effect on it! aha! oh, there’s my suspension of disbelief lol it was in my pocket the whole time!!

anyway so Endeavor and Tomura are tussling but I really wish they’d be more careful because if Tomura is still capable of super strength and super speed then he could propel himself out of Aizawa’s line of sight really easily and I feel like this isn’t really helping

is it just me or do they look like they’re TRYING to jump in between Aizawa and Tomura, like?!?! GUYS

LMAO now Gran is just

SHUP. toss. dusts off hands. well that takes care of that

and apparently he’s under the genuine impression that a mere “now stay put you dumdums” is going to have any effect on these two whatsoever. lol okay. we’ll see

anyways YESSSSS, KACCHAN MEET GRAN, GRAN, KACCHAN

meanwhile Kacchan falls silent as he mentally tries to work out who tf “Toshinori” is lmao. I’M SO CHUFFED ABOUT THIS. YES THAT’S ANOTHER USE OF THE WORD “CHUFFED.” VERY VERSATILE AND REMINISCENT OF HELICOPTER BLADES WHIRLING

and now here’s a convenient map showing how far away Deku and Kacchan are from safety!

thanks for that. that’s so reassuring to have this nifty little visual

OH MY GOD GRAN

DO YOU WANT TO FUCKING DIE?? DOES EVERYONE IN THIS FUCKING ARC HAVE A DEATH WISH. MY GOD

“BUT FAR BE IT FROM ME TO LEAVE WITHOUT ANY OMINOUS FORESHADOWING!!” NO INDEED WE CAN’T HAVE THAT!!!

rather than focus anymore on how goddamn foreboding that is, I would instead like to take this moment to call attention to the fact that Gran apparently knows Bakugou’s name but not Present Mic’s. that’s amazing

sob

what good indeed. imagine if they couldn’t even do that. I imagine that would have some far-reaching consequences which might even be interesting to explore as part of a story

:O

I made the same face as them just now fyi

fucking Schrodinger’s High Ends. they only exist when the plot says it’s convenient for them to exist. maybe they’re like fairies and if you say you don’t believe in them they drop dead. where the fuck did these things actually come from?!

WAY TO DROP THE BOYS OFF IN THE MIDDLE OF NOUMU FUCKING CENTRAL MY GOOD MAN. MAYBE WE SHOULD SCROLL BACK UP AND UPDATE THAT MAP. GOOD JOB LMAO

WHAT THE FUCK

welp. they deleted Tomura’s quirk and then sent the strongest guy they had after him, annnnnnnd he went and beat him anyway in like two fucking seconds. so that’s. ... wowee. ...so do we have a plan b, or...

like, holy shit though?? and can you imagine the kind of psychological impact this is having on everyone watching this live on TV right now?? this is literally the anti-Kamino. holy fucking shit. also did Tomura lose an arm or am I just not understanding this image right?? NOT THAT IT SEEMS TO BE BOTHERING HIM IN THE SLIGHTEST??

(ETA: somehow I missed the fact that he is even calling attention to it lol. “I’ll raise [the other hand] when it’s back.” fucking look at Mr. Transcendent here who’s so powerful that when you tear his arms off all it does is make him more sassy. is he secretly related to Mirko.)

idk guys I really think my original chapter title was better

at least Endeavor isn’t fucking dead just yet. four more pages and you might actually make it out of this chapter alive my good man

blah blah blah flashback to Ujiko explaining that the Noumu could be activated by an electric current flowing through them, and that they’re programmed to move only on Tomura’s orders. you know. just more good news

oh hey but at least these ones are mindless so I guess it’s okay for the kids to kick their asses without feeling too conflicted. it’s just too bad “their strength is higher quality than the others” but you win some, you lose some

OH GOOD, THEY’RE GOING STRAIGHT FOR AIZAWA

I’M SURE THAT MIDORIYA “MY BODY MOVED BEFORE I COULD THINK” IZUKU AND BAKUGOU “I’M THE ONE WHO’LL GET PAYBACK FOR THAT DAY” KATSUKI WILL TAKE THEIR GRANDPA’S SAGE ADVICE AND GO AND HIDE WHILE THEIR TEACHER IS IN DANGER. IT’S NOT LIKE THEY’VE LITERALLY GONE TO SCHOOL FOR AN ENTIRE YEAR EXPLICITLY MAJORING IN NOT DOING THAT. YES THIS IS FINE THIS IS FUCKING FINE AND GREAT

NOW WHAT’S HAPPENING THERE’S LOTS OF RUBBLE FALLING AROUND AND STUFF MOVING AND SOMEONE IS TALKING

OH IT’S HIM

excuse me. EXCUSE ME. no, you are NOT. going to fucking die, Aizawa Shouta. HORIKOSHI KOUHEI!!! YOU’RE UNDER ARREST FOR THE CRIME OF DRAWING THIS FUCKING PANEL. THIS ONE, RIGHT HERE. YOU KNEW WHAT YOU WERE DOING. HOW DARE YOU. how FUCKING dare you sir

and if anything happens to RLR I SWEAR TO GOD!! you know what?! you know what?!?

STOP IT

[sitting curled up into a little ball with my knees drawn up to my chest, drawing little finger circles on the floor] I see. so he’s not even concerned about himself at all. it’s his two tiny little hero eggs, his problem children, and the fact that if he dies here there won’t be anything preventing Tomura from finding and killing them. ahh. okay. it’s okay. that’s fine

and goddammit what is he pulling out from his belt. everyone is on the same page here, right? Aizawa’s Not Allowed To Die. that was the deal. WHAT HAS THIS ALL BEEN FOR OTHERWISE

(ETA: yeah but he seriously did just pull a knife out of fucking nowhere though like the kid in that fucking vine lmao. APPARENTLY HE’S HAD IT THIS ENTIRE TIME?? “what if I just stabbed him” lulz. based on the way things were trending, I’m willing to bet it would have literally bounced off of Tomura’s chest at this point, but I’ll give him credit for making the effort.)

NOPE NOPE NOPE NO

(ETA: Shinsou being in the bottom corner... ;_; )

is anyone listening to me!??! I’m over here screaming myself fucking hoarse??! AIZAWA ISN’T FUCKING ALLOWED TO DIE??!! HELLO!?!?!

lol well at least RLR didn’t get steamrolled over

well everyone. we’ve reached page 18. one more to go. what are the odds we end with the boys arriving in the ta-da nick of time to defend their teacher. just who is watching over whom

THERE IT IS!!!

OH NO OH GOD AM I CRYING??! YOU HAD TO GO AND PUT THOSE FLASHBACK PANELS IN?? HIM SAVING DEKU AND CO. AT USJ, PLUS THAT ONE TIME HE DEFENDED BAKUGOU DURING HIS MOST VULNERABLE MOMENT IN FRONT OF A NATIONAL AUDIENCE??? “IT’S OUR TURN TO SAVE YOU”???

and they look so determined and desperate?? and the “Aizawa-sensei!” echoing in both their minds?? and meanwhile Aizawa looks fucking horrified though, because of all the... [gestures] you know? the Terrible Danger?? sob??

anyway. I really let this manga do this to me every damn week. let it just have its fucking way with me. at least Horikoshi didn’t end up breaking the law after all. I don’t know if I could continue to support a mangaka who is willing to commit an actual war crime. no touching Aizawa. OKAY?? OKAY

#bnha 276 #aizawa shouta #shigaraki tomura #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #gran torino #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #so what sound do *you* think helicopters make? #I googled this and found some excellent answers #my favorite one was dubdubdubdubdub #but tocotocotoco was a close second #whop whop whop #batabatabata #wuppa wuppa lmao

[brynfelan]

The One Where Hajime Only Knows Class 77b Because He Works At A 24-Hour Grocery Store

it’s DONE, it’s BAD, it has all the pacing of a POORLY-WRITTEN SNL SKETCH, but I can’t give less of a shit I am tired and putting it out into the world. @idnek83 I told you I’d fucking write it. It’s 5am and this was written purely out of spite. also, the credit for this idea goes to them. the only reason i wrote this is because they were too much of a coward to.

Word Count: 3272 Summary: Hajime Hinata works at a 24-hour grocery store and only knows class 77-B because they all come in at different times to buy some weird shit. Chaos ensues. This is crack, just straight up crack.

There are worse things than working the graveyard shift. It pays a little extra than day hours, there’s less work to do at the counter, and the only thing Hajime really has to worry about is a drunk customer getting rowdy. Actually, he enjoys it in a weird way. He just stands at the counter, runs people up, and then leaves at six in the morning to do whatever the hell he wants with his day. Usually sleeping, but it’s also nice to be free all the time.

His favourite part of the job is the set of students that come in between the hours of two and five almost every day. They aren’t usually together, but he’s pieced together that they’re all in the same class by descriptions that he’s gotten from the more talkative of the bunch. He doesn’t know all of their names, some of them he only knows by nicknames, but he does know all of their faces.

Kazuichi Soda for example, comes in at around two in the morning every Friday night. He usually buys shitty beer or cheap liquor, and complains that he’s the one that got sent out from the party to get more booze. Sometimes he also picks up random assortments of tools or screws. Hajime thinks it should probably be illegal to sell a man a 40 of cheap whiskey and a power drill at two in the morning, but he learnt to stop questioning the combination of things that people buy at this kind of hour. He dreads to think of the drunk creations that Soda makes.

On the other hand, Mahiru only comes in around once a month. Hajime knows her name is Mahiru because the first time, she drunkenly introduced herself to him and tried to explain that her combination of items were for a photoshoot and not for any kind of nefarious purpose. He isn’t quite sure what kind of crime she could commit with several bunches of half-dead flowers, a whole cream cake and a bottle of champagne, but he’d definitely like to see it.

It’s four in the morning on a Tuesday. Hajime gets off in two hours, and he’s currently dealing with one Gundham Tanaka. He knows his name is Gundham Tanaka, because he announces it every single time that he gets rung up.

“Huh. Sunflower seeds and hamster bedding. You got any pets?” It’s an innocent question, but at this point he really should have learnt not to question Gundham.

“You fool! I, Gundham Tanaka, have my four Dark Devas of Destruction at my command, ready to strike at any moment for insinuating that they are mere pets as you mere mortals call them!” Ah, good. This happens every time. “You may also notice that I am purchasing this protective potion. This is a defensive measure to protect myself from the very devils that seek to feast on my demon blood!

Hajime looks down at the mosquito spray. He’s definitely not getting paid enough for this.

“Right, yeah. Sorry man. I hope those, uh, devils don’t bother ya too much. That’ll be twenty-two fifty-nine.”

Four hamsters poke out from Gundham’s scarf to deliver the money to Hajime. He isn’t sure if that’s sanitary, but at least he gets to see some cute animals during his shift. For “warriors”, as Gundham calls them, they’re pretty sweet and don’t seem to be adverse to getting pet when they hand (mouth?) him the bills.

Even if it gives him daytime freedom, this job isn’t worth ten seventy-two an hour. He sometimes thinks about switching to the day shift, but he gets paid more to work nights and effectively does half the work. Hajime knows that it’s the best job he’s gonna get for a while, and it pays enough to get him through college. Still, he reminds himself to check for something better when his shift’s over.

Gundham is the last of the class he sees that night. He’s definitely eccentric, maybe the most eccentric of the bunch, but he’s never caused a real scene. Except for one time when he managed to smash three bottles of red wine in quick succession, but it happens. Hajime didn’t have to clean it up, so he’s definitely not paid enough to care.

The next night, it’s Sonia that walks in. She’s never formally introduced herself to him, but Soda never shuts up about her, so Hajime has a pretty good idea of who she is. She’s buying nearly his month’s rent in skincare products and murder mystery novels. She talks the whole time too, about how this store is so different to ones in her home country, how he must get so many interesting experiences working at these hours.

“Yeah, you sure could call it interesting,” He snorts a little, “You get some interesting people come in at these hours.”

“Ah, of course! You are a respectable man to hold a necessary job such as this, I believe I would be, as they say, boned without you here! Is it customary to tip workers in institutions such as this?”

Jesus, how much money does this girl have?

“Uh, not grocery store workers ma’am. Cash or card?”

When she pulls out the cash from her purse, Hajime nearly faints. He decides that she must either be a foreign dignitary or deep in some criminal ring in order to have this much money on her person at any one time. It’s not even in exact change, and she’s a hundred over her total.

“This is too much, ma’am. Here, this is yours.”

When he tries to give the hundred back to her, she steps away from the register and puts her hands behind her back. She’s smiling, and shaking her head.

“Oh, no. I shan’t be taking that! You must keep it.”

She’s either an angel, or Satan trying to tempt him with nearly double what he makes in a night. Arguing with her is pointless, she refuses to take her items until he pockets the cash. He hopes that he never has to explain that to his manager, because he hasn’t read the company policy but he’s nearly a hundred percept sure that accepting personal money is very much against it. She finally leaves nearly half an hour later, after insisting he keep the money. He can’t tell if he hopes she comes back, or that he never sees her again.

He ends up keeping the hundred. That’s way too much money to be given to pass up.

If Hajime had to name a favourite customer out of the students, it would have to be the girl that comes in a couple of nights a week to buy snacks. He doesn’t know her name, but she always talks about video games. They share the same taste in them, and he likes hearing about his favourites from another person’s perspective. He doesn’t really have anybody to play them with, but it almost feels like he does when she comes in and asks how far he’s gotten in whatever just came out that week. He thinks about her during his shift sometimes when things get slow.

That same night, a boy with all the manners of a particularly pissed off cat comes in. He’s with a girl that towers over him, and Hajime would laugh if he wasn’t afraid of getting his ass handed to him, since he’s pretty sure the girl is carrying a sword. He’s buying twelve packs of cookies, and a single toy bunny. He pays with a black credit card. Neither of them say anything to Hajime. He’s pretty sure that’s the “Baby Gangsta” that Soda has spoken about on a couple of occasions, but definitely doesn’t want to ask just in case he gets sliced in half. He only notices that he was holding his breath when they leave.

An absolutely giant man walks in just as Hajime is about to clock out. No really, he’s huge and all muscle. Hajime might be scared of him, if he didn’t have such a huge smile on his face. He occasionally comes in early in the morning to buy a hideous amount of protein powder and other groceries. Every time he does, he invites Hajime to “train” with him. Hajime is too scared to ask what training involves, and turns it down every time. By the size of the guy, he’s pretty sure any amount of training would kill him.

Hajime doesn’t know when he clocks in the next night that it’s going to be the most hellish night of his life. He doesn’t know that tonight is the night he hands in his two weeks yet. He’s pretty optimistic when he walks in, freshly showered and having just gotten back a pretty decent grade for one of his classes.

It starts at five. Kazuichi Soda walks in first, already drunk and talking to Baby Gangsta about some motorbike he’s going to jack up so much it won’t be road legal anymore. The Giant Man is close behind, talking to a girl about doing “it” (Hajime has no idea what “it” is and frankly he isn’t sure he wants to know). That’s the first sign. No more than three of them have ever walked in together at any one time.

Lagging behind a little is Gundham and Sonia, followed by Mahiru and the tiny girl that sometimes accompanies her. The only thing Hajime can remember about her is that she called some other girl a “toilet clogging bitch” one time. Three other men follow behind, one with light hair that looks just a little too skinny to be healthy, one that looks nearly exactly the same as him except taller and heavier, and one that’s even shorter than Baby Gansta. A girl with her eyes glued to a Game Girl trails behind them, the Sword Girl almost steering her out of the way of a promotional stand for donuts. Behind them is Ibuki Mioda, a girl that comes in sometimes to buy Monster Energy by the crate at three in the morning, talking to Mikan Tsumiki who usually accompanies her to run of the health risks of drinking too much caffeine.

Behind all of them is the devil himself, dressed up like an angel. Hajime doesn’t know he’s the devil yet, but he will in about an hour.

They’re in the store for all of ten minutes before shit starts going south. Hajime can hear things being tossed around in the aisles and shouting. He definitely isn’t paid enough to deal with that, so he stands at his register and hopes it calms down.

“C’mon, we just finished our finals, Ibuki wants to go hard!”

That’s never a good thing to hear when you still have two hours of your shift left.

Now, part of the reason why Hajime likes working the graveyard shift is that it’s quiet. Nothing happens, except for the one time a guy in a Scream mask came in and robbed his register at axe-point, but he’d already been working at the store for two weeks and couldn’t give less of a crap whether or not the company lost money over that. Tonight, it isn’t quiet. Tonight, there are sixteen students that Hajime thinks might give him a migraine if they don’t shut up for five minutes.

The worst part is when they disperse through the store. Before, all the noise was coming from one place. Now it’s everywhere. Hajime thinks that some of them are having a competition to see who can make all the toys that make sounds go off in the quickest amount of time. He can hear shouting and squealing and laughing (and is that crying? Is one of them crying in his store?) and he wonders if it would be worth it to just walk out and let them take whatever they want.

It doesn’t end there. There’s a loud smashing sound, and then the high-pitched whine of the girl who looks too young to be buying booze but Hajime has never cared enough to card because it’s not his job to parent her.

“You snot-nosed bitch! I bet you’re trying to make Hope’s Peak look bad, you drunk whore!”

“I’m s-sorry! I didn’t mean to!” The crying gets worse the more the short one yells, “I-I’ll clean it up and pay for it, don’t worry! Please forgive me!”

Hope’s Peak is that exclusive private place down the street, right? Hajime passes it everyday, but couldn’t have ever dreamed of getting to study there. He isn’t even really sure what they teach, besides that they always push out the greatest in whatever field of study they run. No, Hajime chose the cheaper option, and while it might have been nice to go somewhere so prestigious, it definitely wouldn’t have been good for his wallet.

From the other side of the store, he hears clapping and laughing. He doesn’t even want to think about what fresh hell is going on in the DIY section, where he’s pretty sure he can hear Soda spilling paint everywhere if the swearing from Baby Gangsta is anything to go buy.

Half an hour or so after they all walked in, Hajime is ringing up fifteen people. He’s the only one working tonight until the cleaners come in, and this is more people than he’s ever had to deal with in his life.

Sonia has bought sixteen bottles of the most expensive champagne the store sells. Hajime doesn’t want to think about the ordeal he went though last time she was here, so when she pushes an extra hundred into his hand he doesn’t bother arguing with her. Gundham, on the other hand, has apparently bought up every single vegan burger that was in the freezer section. He’s also got all the buns, and what feels like a hundred different condiments and salad options. Through tears, Mikan apologises for the trouble she’s causing while trying to pay for whatever bottle she broke – while at the same time picking up enough hangover medicine to cure an army.

By the time he’s rung everybody up, he’s exhausted. He wants to go to bed and never get out of it, to never see anybody again. He hates customers at the best of times, and these people might be excellent outside of this setting, but in his store they’ve been an absolute nightmare.

They’re all packed up and ready to go when the girl with her nose in the video game pipes up.

“Hey, where’s Nagito?” She asks through a yawn.

Then, it happens. Hajime hears a “whoops” from the back end of the store, and everything he’s ever wanted to not happen on his shift happens.

One shelving unit goes down, then another, then another. The sounds of shattering and splintering echo through the now otherwise silent store. They go down like dominos, each falling shelf worse than the last. It’s five fifty-seven in the morning, and Hajime can only watch as his divine punishment for choosing to work in a grocery store near a college is shown to him. Bottles are smashing, toys are crushed, he’s pretty sure that whatever happens in the fish section is no longer safe to look at with the naked human eye.

“I’ve never thought about committing murder before,” He says, “But now I think I understand.”

Everybody is quiet until the dust settles. The white-haired demon walks out completely unscathed, with an innocently shit-eating grin on his face.

“Ah, I can pay for this. I’m so sorry to have caused such trouble,” He says, waving his hands like it’s no big deal, “Please, allow me to pay for the damages. My terrible luck is a scourge on this Earth, I simply can’t apologise enough.”

Hajime sighs, and looks at the clock. It’s five fifty-nine. There isn’t an enough money in the world to pay him to deal with this.

“What the fuck happened?” Baby Gangsta asks, from the back of the crowd, “Seriously, you’ve had some bad fuckin’ luck before, but this shit takes the crappy cake.”

“Oh. I tripped.” He dusts his knees off, and smiles again.

It’s unnerving that he’s so calm about this. Hajime dreads to think what else he’s done in the past that would make this seem so natural to him. Can you bar somebody from your store for accidentally wrecking every single item that you have to sell?

“There is some hope to come from this, Kuzuryu, don’t worry!” He pulls out a tiny stuffed dog from his pocket, “Please, how much will this be?”

All Hajime can do is stare. He isn’t sure what god he pissed off to deserve this. He doesn’t believe in karma, but he hopes that whatever he gets in return for this is pretty damn good.

Six in the morning rolls around. The day-staff have walked in to the mess that is the store, and his manager is just staring at him. Hajime looks at him, and just shakes his head.

“If you want the story, talk to the guy with the white hair. I don’t even know what’s happening anymore.”

Immediately after he says that, he hears a whoosh. Then, everything starts feeling a whole lot warmer.

“Shit, store’s on fire. Komaeda, you’re going to get us banned from this store!” Kazuichi yells, running as fast as he can to the exit.

The others follow, and Hajime gives his manager a “what-can-ya-do” shrug, before following. This store isn’t worth getting a lungful of smoke over. Hell, he isn’t even sure working here is worth the extra cash that Sonia seems adamant to give him every time she comes in.

Sixteen students, Hajime, four other co-workers, two cleaners, and a General Manager stare as the building burns. Before his manager can open his mouth to speak, Hajime looks at him and says, “Nope. I quit. I’m leaving. Now. This isn’t my fault, and you can’t pay me enough to deal with it.”

There’s no argument. His manager just lets him go. The sixteen students get a lifetime ban. Hajime also gets a lifetime ban. The white-haired devil writes a check and walks away basically scot-free. The store is going to be closed for the next fuck-knows how long until it can get repaired. From the number of zeroes on that check, Hajime’s pretty sure this is an expensive problem to fix. He doesn’t care, it isn’t his problem.

“Hey, Mr-Store-Clerk Guy!” Ibuki grins at him, “Wanna come and party with Hope’s Peak? We just got done with finals!”

“Ibuki, that’s a fantastic idea! To repay our debt to him for causing so much trouble, we simply must invite him to part-ay with us!” Sonia claps her hands together and smiles like Ibuki’s just discovered Atlantis, “Please do come with us! But first, might we get your name? We all see you so often, and have never thought to ask!”

It’s six in the morning. Hajime rubs his temples. Any sane person would say no, because he’s tired and just quit his job so he’s going to need to find another one as soon as possible, and having a store burn down on your watch is not good on your resume.

It’s six in the morning, and if there’s any day that Hajime wants to start drinking at ass-o-clock in the morning and not on his dime, it’s this one.

“I’m Hajime Hinata. Please don’t burn anything else down.”

“Oh, don’t worry!” Nagito calls from where he’s standing by the manager, “I’m sure that after that I’ll have some incredibly good luck!”

#brainrot #drabble #not really a drabble it's like 3k #but have it #love it #do what you want with it #this is the worst thing i've ever written #yes counting the fanfiction i wrote for my gcse in english language #this is so dumb #i can't even tell if it's funny or if i'm just tired #either way #have it

[maximumninjavoid]

Mining for Unobtanium ch 38

I just can't........ these imaginary people, they just won't leave me alone.......

well it isn't like I have life, right? My daughter is out of the rehab hospital for her busted leg TOMORROW ( thank you all for your thoughts and good vibes and well wishes )

So, the usual disclaimers. 18+ only. Srsly. secks, and stuff, you know?

Bangkok was a trip…. Literally. We ate at street stalls, like locals, grazing, and he bought me a new wardrobe suitable for my new role as his *life coach*. Trust and believe, everything had pockets. Functional pockets. And HUGE shoulder pads. I wasn't kidding about that eighties aesthetic. He slipped right back into his role as my Darling Boy, and I could see the stress and tension ease from his frame each hour that passed.

I wanted to believe that our little bubble could contain all of Southeast Asia, but I didn’t do drugs anymore, and frankly, there weren’t enough drugs on the planet to make THAt a reality. I mean, he’s an international superstar. Add to that that he’s literally a foot taller than most of the population of any Asian city and well, he’s not hard to spot in a crowd. As if the sheer breadth of him wasn’t an issue. Egads, the list of places and things he doesn’t fit. Trying to stuff his massive self in a tuk tuk. COMEDY. “ Ass first Darling boy, then fold the rest of your prodigious bulk into the conveyance, will you?” “ Could you TRY not to sound so fucking smug? “ “ I could try, but that would be a lie and I did promise never to lie to you….”

I positioned myself on his lap and damned if I didn't find a way to grind my behind into his groin. Let me try and find a way to make this work for me… I mean, wouldn't you? Traffic is insane. Scooters, tuk tuks, pedestrians, street stalls, it's hard to imagine. Easier if you're from a place with narrower streets, right? But as an American it took some getting used to. The idea of 'personal space' is very different everywhere else on the planet. And I was hell bent on invading his. The tuk tuk turned and I shifted. Henry groaned. "You all right Darling Boy?" It wasn't really a smile, but it wasn't him pulling a face, either. "Fine." I kissed his cheek. "So glad to hear that. We'll be at our destination soon." I nibbled on his earlobe and wiggled my ass a bit more.

I disentangled myself and stepped out of the conveyance and tried to assist in extricating him. It was laughable. "First your feet, or you'll face plant. And won't that look great on page six?" Another half smile half grimace and he rose above the tuk tuk and the crowd. I took his hand and led him into a shop. We were greeted and I bowed. The proprietor walked us through the shop and to a curtained off area in the back. There was a small platform and a few mirrors.

"Strip."

He looked at me. Then looked at the bulge in his jeans, and then looked at me again.

"My apologies. Let me rectify that for you."

"Here? Now?"

"I wouldn't have said so if I couldn't follow through. Dealer's choice, Hero, you want that sucked or fucked?"

"Cheeky. While I would love to sink so deep into you I take your breath away, I'll settle for choking you on my johnson."

That settled, we made quick work of his hard cock and I scored a protein snack. "Seriously. Strip."

He toed off his shoes, pulled the t shirt off over his head and threw it at me. The shop owner returned and as Henry was taking off his jeans he gestured to the platform. Henry looked at me, seeking some kind of information or perhaps reassurance." Mmmhmmm. Payback is a bitch. And so am I."

The proprietor took out a tape measure and I began to laugh.

Like a costume fitting, only worse, I think, he measured every delicious inch of Henry, making notations, grabbing muslin and pinning. I confess, I did giggle when he got stabbed a few times. "And what, exactly, are you up to?" "Would it be very impertinent if I said five foot six? OK. I'm doing my job. The job you hired me to do." I spoke a few words to the man who owned the store in Thai, and then switched back to English. " Complete, from the inside out. And he dresses left." Henry shot me a look. I was pretty sure he was a tad less than pleased. I threw his shirt back at him and went back to the front of the shop to pick out fabrics. I had a lovely chat with the man's wife and we went over bolt after bolt of cloth, making more notes and selections. I stopped at the silks, running my hands over the fabric. She smiled, and a paragraph passed in a look. We talked loungewear, pajamas, underwear, ties, waistcoats, pocket squares, and then underwear again. Bless her little pirate heart. It was like she could read my mind.

Henry appeared from behind the curtain and looked at the fabrics. “ You know I have a bespoke tailor. On Saville Row. With a Royal Warrant.” “ I am, in fact aware. And I am also in fact aware that you tend to buy eight of the same thing if you find a thing you like and wear them to death. Is this where we discuss your ever changing physique and your poor exhausted overworked shirt buttons? They’re thinking of unionizing you know.”

He looked at me, as though I had grown more heads. “ What? Going to call me cheeky again? That’s getting tired, Hero. Come up with a new one. Insolent, brazen, sassy, saucy, I could go on…….” He pulled me to him and silenced me with a kiss. I put my hands on his chest and leaned into him. This is what I wanted for him, someone who takes care of him the way he tends to take care of the people around him. I stepped back and took out my phone and dashed off a quick email. “ Who was that?” “ Oh, that was an email to your Aunt, your assistant. I was just letting her know what the plan was for your wardrobe revision.” “ Wait. What?” “ Come on, I’m starved, I’ll explain over food.”

We found a stall and grabbed some mango and I outlined my plan. Exactly what he had been doing just with adjustments, same shirts just in incremental sizes in the chest and biceps, numbered on the inside of the button placket and every trip he could pack three or four of this shirt that shirt that jacket and so on. When they got to the end of a series of numbers his Aunt could call the shopkeeper in Bangkok and he could ramp up the next series and ship out more of the same in incremental sizes. No more overworked buttons and everything tailored to his measurements, taking into account the ratio of chest to waist that you wouldn’t find in off the rack and faster than Saville Row could produce them. Same thing with trousers and jeans, and that dick. THAT required custom tailoring. No more of that beige suit GMA nonsense. That was awful.

@fishcustardandclintbarton @indigosaurus @tinareher

#henry cavill + reader #henry cavill fanfic

[readyourimgaines]

The Little Things

Summary: Derek knew fully well that moving in with Spencer was going to bring around some changes. Dr. Spencer Reid was different and Derek loved him for it. There were little quirks that the doctor showed at work and some Derek was still learning. So there must be some at home.

And a special thanks, of course, to @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese​ for helping me compile this list!

1. Alphabetizing Movies by Title

“Pretty Boy?” Derek was crouched down in front of their TV looking for their movie while Spencer did the dishes. The latter hadn’t seen Happy Gilmore and Derek couldn’t let that stand. 

“Yeah?” Spencer called from the kitchen. 

“I can’t find it?”

“What?” Spencer stepped away from the sink and went to the living room. Water dripped from his fingertips. “The movies are alphabetical. It’s between Hamlet and Ice Age.” He went to Derek’s side and gestured to the movie. “I was going to order them by director, but Hotch said most people don’t know directors very well. Which is a shame because J.J. Abrams destroyed Star Trek but Guy Riche-” 

Derek pressed a kiss to Spencer’s lips with a fond smile. Spencer blinked. 

“Sorry,” the doctor blushed. 

Derek just chuckled. “You know you’re adorable, right, Pretty Boy?” 

“You may have mentioned it a time or two,” Spencer laughed. 

“You can tell me all about directors later,” Derek promised. “I know a bit about the mainstream guys, but not a whole lot.”

“All you really need to know is that J.J. Abrams kills anything he touches and Peter Jackson doesn’t get as much attention as he should.”

*****

2. Morning Rituals

One thing that Derek very quickly learned about Spencer was that he 

had a specifically timed morning ritual when not on a case. And that if it was broken or disturbed, the whole rest of the day would go down hill like a train on greased tracks. 

He woke up at 6:17, was in the shower by 6:25, eating breakfast by 7:00, his bed made by 7:30, and shoes on his feet by 7:32. The last half hour before they left at 8:00 was free game. 

The first morning in their new place was the roughest. Spencer went 

about his usual morning, but Derek didn’t usually wake up until 7:45 because he took less time to get ready and ate in the car. So when Spencer finished breakfast and went back to their room to make the bed but Derek was still asleep… He paced for the next fifteen minutes and his head nearly went through the ceiling when Derek’s alarm went off. 

Spencer almost had a panic attack as he fumbled his way through making their bed and cramming his feet into his shoes. Needless to say, the extra half hour was spent- in vain- trying to calm the doctor down. None of the rest of the day lined up properly and Spencer was on edge and fidgety. Hotch even had to gently remind him to focus a few more times than the usual redirection of infodumps. 

That was the first and only time Derek didn’t follow Spencer’s morning routine. He found the same day that Spencer had a much simpler night ritual: Snack (sometimes) at 10:10, teeth brushed by 10:25, in bed by 10:35, reading until (supposed to be) 11:18, and then lights out. This routine was much more flexible and relaxed.

Derek found waking up and going to bed at the same time every day made the former much easier. He also found that Spencer reading to him most nights- no matter the book or topic- was very relaxing. And of course there were nights when Derek read to Spencer.

*****

3. Sugary Coffee

Derek took a sip of coffee from his travel cup and whistled. “Think I got yours, Pretty Boy. There’s enough sugar in this to hype up a six year old’s birthday party.” 

Spencer braced himself and took a sip of the coffee in his own cup. He was pleasantly relieved when the bitterly sharp taste expected never came. “I-I put sugar in both of them. I wasn’t thinking,” he said sheepishly. 

Derek shrugged. “You know what they say: I’ll try anything once.” He chuckled. “I’ll just brush my teeth for an extra three minutes.” 

Spencer scoffed as he got into the passenger seat of Derek’s car. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll like it. You don’t get the caffeine drop when the eight hour half-life is over.” 

“Is that why you put so much sugar in coffee?” Derek raised an eyebrow, thinking he already knew the answer. 

“And coffee tastes like battery acid. I’d rather drink vinegar than black coffee.” Spencer shuddered. 

Derek chuckled but didn’t say anything else as he pulled onto the street.

*****

4. Cuddly Sleeper

Even though Spencer wasn’t huge on PDA like Derek was, he sure was a cuddly guy. The second the door closed, he was a six foot koala. That included in bed- but usually not until after he was asleep. 

Some nights, Spencer would fall asleep reading. So Derek would take his book, close it, gently remove Spencer’s glasses, and turn out the lamp. Nine times out of ten, Spencer was curled up against his side before Derek was asleep himself. 

At first, Derek found himself wondering why Spencer wasn’t nestled against him before sleep took him. But after a while, it sunk in that the doctor unwound by reading. 

The look on Spencer’s face when he curled into Derek’s side always sent the older man over the moon. The absolute peace on the doctor’s face. One night, Derek almost woke Spencer up laughing. Derek rolled over to out the lamp and Spencer had gripped Derek’s arm tighter and whined in his sleep. Derek then had to assure his boyfriend- in soft whispers as to not actually wake him up- that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

Spencer never thought to question why his book and glasses were gone when he woke up.

*****

5. Leaves Books Everywhere

Anyone who had a 30 second conversation with Spencer- anyone who glanced at Spencer- could tell the man read more than he did anything else. 

Derek picked up the doctor’s satchel once and was moderately surprised the slim man hadn’t dislocated his shoulder with how heavy the bag was. But Spencer didn’t only keep books in his bag. No. They were all over the place. 

Their bedroom, the craft room where Derek made floor plans for his renovations, the kitchen, the dining room, the living room. Even both bathrooms and the basement. 

When the two first moved in together, Derek debated building an extension onto the living room for a library. He still debated it from time to time (just in case). But as time wore on, Derek grew to appreciate the countless (if seemingly random) books around the house. 

Spencer would read when Derek was working on floorplans, so Derek would read when Spencer worked on an academic paper or consult. 

“What’re you reading?” Spencer asked one night, finally looking up from his notebook. He was writing an essay on how handwriting analysis could help catch a serial killer and/or rapist. 

“I don’t even know,” Derek chortled. “Uh..” he looked at the cover, “it’s Introduction to Law by Joanne Banker and Yvonne Ekern.” 

“Oh! Hotch loaned that to me yesterday,” Spencer noted. “I should get that back to him soon.” 

Derek just shook his head. “You know, Pretty Boy, I didn’t read this much in college.”

Spencer smiled. “See? Maybe there’s a good side to not spending thousands of dollars on building a library,” he teased.

6. The Nightlight

In the bedroom, in the outlet closest to the door was a nightlight. But not just any night light. This nightlight made the move in the front pocket of Spencer’s satchel. 

“So what’s the story behind this platypus, Pretty Boy?” Derek had to ask one night as Spencer turned it on. “Because you’ve had this since before we were dating.” 

“My uh- my mom’s went on a sort of field trip with her hospital a couple years ago. It was on one of her good days. She saw this in the aquarium’s gift shop and bought it for me.”

“That’s pretty cute,” Derek encouraged. He knew Spencer didn’t open up about his mom often so Derek tried to learn everything he could about the woman during the rare occurrences. 

“We named him,” Spencer laughed. “Alfred Nicholas Brian Reid.” He giggled. “I just… He helps.”

*****

+1. Bleeding/Infected Hangnails

Spencer usually had something to stim or fidget with. A strip of paper, a pen or pencil to twirl, a shirt with a loose thread, something. On the off chance that he didn’t, the doctor somehow decided that his fingers were good enough. If Spencer didn’t have a hangnail, he’d start one. 

This was the one and only thing about Doctor Spencer Reid that Derek Morgan hated. He could see the minute flinch when Spencer held a utensil wrong and it pressed on the swollen skin. He heard the soft hiss when Spencer got tomato or orange juice in the broken skin. 

What Derek hated even more than that was when the hangnail would get infected. The skin around the nail or turn a greenish-yellow and harden. Which, in turn, gave Spencer another thing to pick at. 

“Pretty Boy, you gotta stop,” Derek sighed. He’d gone into a convenience store to get them something other than coffee- but tastier than water- to drink. While inside, he bought a box of Band-Aids and a tube of anti-bacterial cream. 

Spencer snapped out of his daze. “What?”

“Picking at your nails.” To prove his point, Derek took Spencer’s hand in his to show him, as well as to stop his current picking. “I know you’re worried about the case, Baby, but we’ll catch the son of a bitch and put his ass behind bars like we always do. You gotta stop destroying your hands.”

“I didn’t realize I was,” he admitted. 

“I know,” Derek said softly. He applied the cream and a Band-Aid to each finger that needed it (five in total between both hands). “We just gotta get you a couple of those fidget cubes Garcia has.”

Tag List: @mayonnaiseismycomfortfood​

#read your imagines #combefere's journal #criminal minds imagine #moreid imagine #spencer reid imagine #derek morgan imagine #5+1 things #6+1 things #moreid #moreid fluff

[fernando-jpg]

okay since you’re taking requests, could you do something daryl x reader where daryl and the reader hate each other but get into an only one bed situation on a run together?? only if you want of course.

I've finally finished it-

Here ya go luv

Winter was a hard season to survive in. Everything was cold and dead. Not a lot of people survived the first winter that came after the world ended. It was harder to get supplies and transport them back into camp. It was harder to get water - it froze in the pipes, lakes and rivers. But there were some pros. Some walkers froze in the sheet of ice, which made it easier to decapitate them and they were slower. But you weren't faster than before. 

During the run, you and Daryl hadn't met a lot of them and you were thankful for that. You were exhausted from having to make your way through layers of snow. Your whole body seemed to shiver from time to time as wind hit you. 

"It sucks." 

As soon as you let out another groan, Daryl's eyes wandered over his shoulder, at you, with visible annoyance written all over his face. 

"Stop complinin'. It ain't helpin'." Daryl huffed.

You rolled your eyes at him, fighting the urge to shoot something back at him. You looked at him, your eyes settling at his crossbow which he carried on his back. You didn't want to fight with him now but god, you wanted to do so. 

Daryl Dixon was one of not so many people that were pissing you off just by the way he was looking at you. You two never were on good terms. When you first met him at the quarry, he was an arrogant son of a bitch, who liked to start fights with anyone who was near him. You guessed, that he was a prick due to his brother's influence on him who was even worse than him. Merle was the top one guy who you hated, but his baby brother was in the second place. 

When the group had arrived at the prison, Rick had decided that you and Daryl were going to be paired for runs. You requested to be paired with perhaps Carol or even Carl but he ignored you. He knew that you and Dixon are not really getting along but Grimes only stated that "maybe runs will bring you two closer". Grimes hated when you and Daryl fought about smallest things and he would do anything just for you two to get along. But it was clearly not happening. 

"The sun is setting down." 

"I know that." he huffed again. 

"How far is the cabin then?" you asked. 

"Uhh.." he trailed off, looking at the map in his hands. "We should've seen 't 'bout by now." 

"What?" you stopped in your tracks, snow crunching under your boots. "So we missed it?" 

"Dunno." 

"Jesus--" you scoffed. Moving forward, you walked up to him. "Give me that map. Clearly you can't read it properly." 

Daryl was about to say something but you snatched the map away from his hands, almost ripping it in half. You grabbed your flashlight and shined the light at it since the daylight was slowly dying and it was harder and harder to see. You followed the road with your gloved finger and then looked around yourself for any signs. Everything seemed right. The crossroad was before your eyes not far away and it was shown on the map. The cabin should've been on your right, hidden slightly behind the trees. 

You folded the map, hiding it in the pocket of your coat before making your way away from the road and into the woods. You had to find that damn cabin. Otherwise you wouldn't survive the night here as you saw that storm was approaching. 

"Hey! Where yer goin'?" Daryl called out after you and you've heard his footsteps behind you, close by. 

"To find the cabin you've lost." you mumbled out, pulling out your machete just in case something appeared in front of you.

Not a moment later you found your destination. Completely ruined. 

A huge tree had fallen over the roof of the cabin, destroying it. You couldn't even make out the previous state of the small house. Now it was just a bunch of wooden pieces laying around, some covered in snow. 

You sighed, running your hands down your face to calm down. You had to quickly figure out something to not die due to hipotermia. 

After hiding your weapon, you grabbed the map again and looked through it again, finding only one other way to survive. 

"We gotta move back to the first crossroad and then move West." you informed Daryl, brushing past him to get back to the road. 

"Yeah and then what?" he asked. "There are no more cabins around 'ere." 

"On my last run, I found a small cottage about an hour away from here. It's not shown on the map but it marked it with an x. I wanted to stay the night there but found it overrun with walkers. Someone gathered a bunch of them there and since then they're stuck in there. We'll deal with them and then I'll finally be able to sleep for a few hours."

"Will we actually be able to finish them all off?" 

"We'll have to." 

During the one hour walk to the cottage, none of you two said anything to each other. You didn't mind it all. Anyway the talk will only lead to another fight. And you were already upset enough. 

When you arrived at the cottage, as you predicted it was flooded with walkers. You made a deal with Daryl, that you'll let the walkers in pairs so he could deal with them, then switch. It was a hard job but it had to be done if you wanted to rest. 

An bit later, there were only a few walkers left inside but damn, you were tired. You barely stood on your legs. All that doors pushing, blocking and decapitating walkers was really exhausting. 

"How many left more?" Daryl called out to you. 

"I, uh, about six I think." you breathed out. 

You opened the doors for them to walk out once more, letting out two again. You sighed when they started to push at the doors again and with all the strength you've had, started to close the doors back. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. All of the walkers were out now as you were almost knocked out by the slam of the doors. You fell back, onto the snow, holding your forehead in pain. 

You've heard Daryl call out to you and when you saw what he was dealing with, you immediately ran to help him. Eight walkers were after him. 

You ran up to one and stabbed him on the back of the head. The rotted body fell down onto the ground with a thud, catching attention of 3 more. You kicked the closes one in the knee, breaking his leg, making him fall down which made it easier to finish them off. Quickly you dealt with other two, without missing a beat. Adrenaline kicked in. But suddenly you fell down and walker landed right on top of you. 

You tried to keep calm as you were blocking his gnashing teeth away from your face but it wasn't enough. You've lost your knife and almost a will to fight this monster. 

"Daryl!" 

You've sounded defeated, voice weak and full of fear. Yeah, you were scared shit less. It wasn't like this haven't happen before. But now you were so tired you didn't know how much longer you would hold him back. 

But finally Daryl approached you, pulling the walker off of you, before finishing him on the ground. 

You were about to say something, anything to him when you've felt  hot liquid streaming down your face. You wanted to quickly wipe it off, wanting to see what it is when, Daryl grabbed your wrist. 

"Stop, yer gonna infect it." he said. "It's no walkers blood." 

Finally, at the cottage, you were able to clean yourself off and put a bandage on your head. You've had a cut coming right over your eye. It wasn't deep, no stitches were needed. Not like you two had some. 

While you were cleaning off, Dixon made fire in the fireplace when he broke some furniture in the house. It got warmer and you were thankful the stack of wood was enough for you two to survive the night. He even blocked the doors and windows, making sure no-one would break in. No man nor walker. 

"There's only one bed." Daryl informed you as soon as you stepped into the room. "Imma sleep on t' floor." 

"Don't be ridiculous Dixon." you scoffed. "We can share it. I'll have my side and you'll have yours. I'm not gonna even touch you." 

"..Fine." 

You quickly grabbed your extra blanket and laid down. Walking around the house made you quite dizzy. You turned on your right side, facing away from him, just wanting to go to sleep. 

Eventually he laid down next to you, but you were wrong. Your backs were certainly touching. You didn't mind it actually. 

You've heard him shuffle around from time to time. He was either moving his leg or his arm on his whole body at once.

"Jesus christ, continue this and you'll seriously end up on the floor." you growled almost, annoyed at his actions. 

"...'m sorry." 

You were actually surprised at his words. He never said these words to you before. You now have heard, how soft his voice can be instead of his gruffy usual one. 

"No..I'm sorry." you sighed, rubbing your eyes. "I'm sorry I let these walkers out. They almost got you." 

"'s fine. They didn't eat me." 

"They could've got me though. Almost did. If you weren't there to save me.." You've looked over your shoulder, seeing Daryl gaze at you intensely. "I was an ass to you. Even after you saved me. I feel stupid." 

"Stop it." he mumbled out, looking away from you. "It's nothin'." 

You glanced at him for a moment before eventually facing away from him again. 

Few moments have passed in silence when you finally found the right words to say. 

"Thank you Daryl..I guess you are a good guy." 

"...Go to sleep. Ya need to rest." 

You briefly glanced back at him but only saw his sleepy face. He looked really peaceful and calm. You let your mind wonder for a moment before you eventually turn around. 

Eventually you let yourself close your eyes and start to fall back to sleep, when you've heard Daryl move around on his side. Before you could turn around and see what he's up to, you've felt his hand gently touch strands of your hair. You tried not to let him know that you're not asleep still but didn't want to ruin your first nice moment between you and Daryl Dixon. 

If you want to be added to my taglist just dm me!

#the walking dead #the walking dead amc #twd imagine #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #norman reedus #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x reader #Imagine #Imagines #Request

[shadowywerewolfqueen]

Rewind

For Suptober Day 12: Rewind

So, this one really got away from me but I just couldn’t help myself so have 4300 words of Destiel fluff.

“Dean, did you inventory your half of the annex like I asked you to?” Sam hollered as he walked down the stairs of the bunker, having just got back from a hunt with Eileen.

Dean, who had his feet propped up on the map table and a beer in his hand, scoffed at his brother’s question. “I’ll get to it. I thought you were going to be gone for another few days, anyways.”

Sam flashed a bitch face at his brother as he set his duffel on the table. “Dude, I’ve been gone for a week longer than expected.”

“Whatever. It’ll get it done, I promise,” Dean replied as he took a sip of his beer.

“Dammit Dean! Can’t you just do something when I ask you to do it? We agreed to split the annex in half and I’m already done with my half. There could be tons of new books and artifacts that could be really useful, but we won’t know because you won’t sort through the stuff,” Sam said angrily.

Dean slammed his bottle on the table and dropped his feet to the floor. “Alright, if it will get you to quit bitching, I’ll go start now. Geez, how Eileen puts up with you is beyond me.” Dean drank the last of his beer before walking out the war room.

“Stupid, pushy brother. Always has to be on my case,” Dean grumbled as he made his way down the maze of hallways to the annex. “Dude needs to have a romp in the sack with Eileen and then maybe he can be like Elsa and let it go.”

Dean flicked the light switch on and groaned. Half of the annex was completely reorganized and not a single thing was out of place. The other half was disorderly with boxes thrown around haphazardly and sheets covering most of the stuff. “Son of a bitch,” he growled as he walked over to the nearest box and opened it. A mouse scurried out and ran across the toe of Dean’s boot before disappearing under a shelf.

He spent the next five hours cleaning and had barely seemed to make a dent. He went to the kitchen to grab a beer, happy that he didn’t run into his brother. He did run into somebody else, though.

Dean was walking into the kitchen and looking at his phone, so he never saw the trench coat clad angel walking through the entryway. As he collided with Cas, his phone fell to the floor and Dean would have fallen on his ass had Cas not grabbed him by the arm.

“Dean, are you ok?” Cas asked, his hand still wrapped tightly around the hunter’s bicep.

“Yeah Cas, I’m good. Thanks for catching me,” Dean said with a light blush.

Cas finally dropped his hand and picked up Dean’s phone off the floor. He handed it back and said, “You’re welcome. So, what are you and Sam up to?”

Dean pocketed his phone and went to the fridge to grab a beer. “I don’t even know where Sam is at the moment. Probably taking one of his six hour bubble baths. I’m organizing my half of the annex so Sammy will quit bitching at me to do it. What are you doing here, I thought you were taking care of some important angel business?”

“Um, it’s all done,” Cas said quickly. “I figured I would come check on you and your brother since I’ve been gone for so long.” Cas glanced at Dean before immediately looking away. 

Dean didn’t say anything about the angel acting kind of strange. He was used to Cas being a little odd. “We’re good actually. Just a few monster of the week cases but nothing major for once.”

Cas nodded once. “That’s good. Um, would you like any help with your organizing?”

Dean’s eyes went wide before he stammered, “Uh, n-no. I’m, I’m good. I promised Sam I’d do it on my own anyways. He did his side on his own, so it’s only fair for me to do it… on my own, you know?” Dean wanted to smack himself for how stupid he sounded.

The angel’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “Ok. I’ll just go to my room then. If you change your mind, let me know.” Cas left without another word.

Dean watched him go before scrubbing a hand down his face and muttering, “Fuck.”

The crush he had carried for Cas had long since turned into full blown romantic love. Dean had no idea how to handle such a concept. He was not a guy who met someone, fell in love, and settled down. He was a hunter who loved them and left them after a night or two. With Cas, he could never imagine sleeping with the angel once and then leaving him. Dean wanted the apple pie life, but he knew he could never have that. He was a hunter and not to mention a pretty lousy human. Why would an Angel of the Lord ever consider Dean for a partner?

As Dean fell deeper in love with Cas, the more flustered he got being around the angel. He could hardly be in Cas’ presence for more than a few minutes before he started imagining what Cas’ lips would feel like or what his hands running along Dean’s skin would feel like. Having normal conversations with Cas was becoming impossible and now he just sounded like a love-sick idiot every time he was around the man. Dean knew if he had accepted Cas’ offer to help organize, he wouldn’t have organized anything because he would spend the whole time staring at the angel.

Dean sighed as he walked back to the annex. He started going through boxes again, putting things in two separate piles. A pile for stuff to be kept and a pile for broken junk that needed to get thrown away. Dean was grabbing another box off the shelf when he stepped on something and lost his footing. He crashed to the ground and the box went flying. “Son of a bitch,” he cried.

He rolled his shoulders before getting to his knees and picking up the stuff that now littered the floor. He had an armful of junk and dumped it back in the box. He looked around and grabbed a small wooden brown case that he had missed. He looked at the case and could barely make out some writing under the layer of dust. He rubbed his finger across the top and read the writing.

“Rewind Buzzer. What the heck can it rewind?” Dean asked as he opened the box.

The inside of the case was lined with red velvet and a piece of paper was lying on top of whatever was in the box. Dean picked the paper up and read the sentence written on it. His eyes got big at what he read. He dropped the paper to the ground and stared at the buzzer nestled in the case.

The buzzer was a device that could rewind time. Dean grinned at the idea of what he could do with that ability. The amount of pranks he could pull on Sam were infinite. He picked the paper back up and turned it over, searching for how far back in time the buzzer went.

Dean looked up when he heard his name called. Cas walked into the annex, wearing a pair of sweats and one of Dean’s old band tees. It was a rarity to see him in anything but his suit and trench coat and Dean couldn’t help but stare. Cas was always handsome but looking at him now, Dean thought he was drop dead gorgeous.

“Dean, are you ok? You’re staring at me more than usual,” Cas said, a small smile on his face.

“Uh, yeah, Cas, I’m good,” Dean replied, his cheeks turning a bright red. “Just not used to seeing you without your suit and trench coat.” He sat the case on the shelf and moved to stand in front of the angel.

Cas picked at the hem of his shirt. “I can go change if you want. You’ve told me for years the bunker is my home and one is supposed to be comfortable in their home, correct?”

Dean’s face softened as he reached out and laid his hand on Cas’ shoulder. “Yeah, buddy you are. Please don’t go change on my account. You have every right to be comfortable here. This is your home.”

“Thanks Dean,” Cas said as he hesitantly pulled the hunter in for a hug.

“You’re welcome angel,” Dean replied as he wrapped his arms around Cas’ shoulders. He savored being wrapped in the angel’s tight embrace, knowing it would only last for a few seconds. He couldn’t help but take in a deep breath of Cas’ rich earthy scent before the man pulled away. Dean barely managed to not whimper at losing the feeling of warmth the angel offered.

Cas looked over Dean’s shoulder and his gaze landed on the box Dean had been holding. He walked over to investigate. He picked the box up and studied the buzzer before looking at Dean. “This is a very powerful object and is imbued with archangel grace.”

“What?” Dean asked with surprise, moving to stand next to Cas. “So, do you know how it works then?”

Cas nodded. “I do, it was once carefully guarded by Heaven because of how powerful it is. It has the ability to rewind time even if it can only go back five minutes.”

“Five minutes doesn’t seem like such a big deal,” Dean scoffed. It wouldn’t be very useful in pulling pranks on his little brother, that was for sure.

“No, it doesn’t but five minutes can make a huge difference in something such as a battle. This was created to help angels gain an upper hand over demons in the war we had with them,” Cas explained. “The next time I go to Heaven, I will take this with me. We can’t afford for it to fall into the wrong hands.”

Dean, who had been lost in thought about what he could do if he could rewind time, looked up at Cas. “What? Why? The bunker is perfectly safe! No demon can get in here with all the warding.”

Cas titled his head. “I don’t know Dean. Heaven is even safer than this when it comes to demons. Why do you care where it goes anyways?”

“Uh, I do-don’t,” Dean stammered. “You know what, never mind. I’ll just put it on the shelf so you know where it is when you go back to Heaven.”

Cas nodded. “Thank you Dean. Now, are you sure you don’t want help with cleaning this up?”

Dean quickly replied, “Yeah, I’m sure! Like I said earlier, if Sam can do his half on his own, it’s only fair I do my half on my own. Why don’t you go relax in the Dean Cave. Watch some Netflix and Chill.”

Cas looked at Dean with curiosity but only said, “Okay Dean. If you want to join me, you’re welcome to.”

“Yeah, maybe in a little bit. I should get some more organizing done,” Dean replied.

“Alright, see you later,” Cas said lowly before turning around and walking out the room. 

As soon as he was gone, Dean grabbed the case off the shelf. While talking to Cas, he had come up with an idea. Even though he didn’t have much hope that Cas might actually like him, he finally had the guts to try. With the buzzer, he could tell Cas how he felt and then if the angel didn’t return the sentiment, Dean would just rewind time and deal with his broken heart by getting lost at the bottom of a bottle. He slipped the buzzer in his pocket before heading to the Dean Cave.

He walked in the room to see Cas sitting on the couch, Orange is the New Black playing on the TV. “Hey Cas,” Dean said softly.

Cas paused the show before looking over his shoulder at Dean. He smiled as he said, “Hello Dean. Change your mind?”

Dean rubbed at the back of his neck as he answered, “Uh, well there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Ok, what is it?”

“Ok, well, the thing is, I, uh, wanted to tell you about how I feel. About you that is,” Dean added.

Cas stood up and walked towards Dean. “What exactly do you want to tell me?”

“So, the thing is, you know you mean a lot to me… and to Sam. We both, you know, care about you,” Dean said awkwardly.

“I know. You said you both think of me as a brother,” Cas said, his lips curved up at the corners.

“Exactly, well… not exactly. You see Cas, I don’t really think of you as a brother,” Dean replied, he cheeks turning red.

Cas snapped his head back. “Oh.” His shoulders slumped and his eyes became glued to the floor. “I just forgot there’s something I need to do. Excuse me.” Cas pushed past Dean, hurrying towards the exit.

Dean turned around and grabbed Cas’ wrist. “Cas, wait!”

“You know, you could have told me the truth instead of lying to me for so long,” Cas cried as he ripped his wrist out of Dean’s grasp.

He fled down the hallway before Dean could say anything else. “Son of a bitch,” Dean shouted in frustration. “That was not how it was supposed to go.” Dean pulled the buzzer out of his pocket. “Alright, I really hope this damn thing works.” 

He pressed the buzzer down and felt as if his stomach was being twisted from the inside out. He slammed his eyes shut and focused on trying not to puke. Once his stomach settled, he opened his eyes to find himself standing back in the annex. He blinked before looking at the buzzer. “Huh, guess it does work. Now, to try this again.”

Dean hurried to the Dean Cave. “Hey Cas, can I talk to you?”

Cas paused his show and looked over his shoulder. “Hello Dean, of course you can. What did you want to talk to me about?”

“I wanted to tell you how I feel… about you, that is,” Dean added, the tips of his ears warming up.

Cas stood to his feet and walked over to Dean. “About me? I don’t understand.”

Dean took a deep breath before saying, “Ok, so you know how I told you that you’re like a brother to me and Sam. Well, the truth is… I uh, well I, um, dammit.” Dean cursed himself for getting tongue tied. Why was it so hard to just tell Cas how he felt?

Cas squinted his eyes. “Dean, you’re not making any sense.”

“I know, I’m not. I’m trying to tell you how I don’t think of you as a brother,” Dean cried.

Just like last time, Cas became extremely upset and stormed out of the room.

“Dammit! No more talking about Cas as a brother,” Dean growled before pressing the button again.

Once he had gotten over the jarring feeling of travelling back in time, Dean headed to Cas for a third time. “Cas, I need to talk to you,” he said, harsher than he intended, but he was getting frustrated. It shouldn’t be this hard to tell the angel that Dean was in love with him.

Cas paused the show and said, “Ok, about what?”

Dean stood in front of the TV looking at Cas. “So, there’s something I’ve been hiding for a while and I decided it’s time that I tell you.”

Cas stood to his feet. “Ok, what is it?”

“The truth is, you’re important to me Cas, like really important,” Dean said in a rush.

Cas smiled. “Dean, I already know that. You’re important to me as well. You and Sam.”

Dean frowned. “I’m not talking about Sam right now, I’m talking about you and how I feel about you.”

“I already know how you feel about me Dean,” Cas said as he settled a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“You do?” Dean asked excitedly.

Cas nodded. “Of course, you told me how you and Sam consider me a brother. I know how high of an honor that is.”

“Ugh, why the hell does the whole thing about you being a brother keep coming up? That’s not how I feel about you anymore,” Dean hollered. For the third time in a row, he watched Cas walk out the room.

“Son of a bitch!”

Dean pressed the buzzer and then hurried towards the Dean Cave. “Cas I need to talk to you and it has nothing to do with you being like a brother to me and Sam.”

Cas paused the TV and looked at Dean with a head tilt. “Ok, that is random but oddly specific.”

“Whatever, I need to tell you something and I need you to listen,” Dean said, ignoring Cas’ comment.

“Well, I’m not stopping you.”

“So, here goes, the truth is Cas, I really really care about you a lot! Like a lot, a lot,” Dean said hurriedly. 

Cas chuckled. “Dean, I care about you a lot as well. It’s not like I didn’t already know that. Did you just want to get out of cleaning the annex?”

“What? No! Cas, are you listening to me? I just said I like you a lot!” Dean was staring at the angel, pleading with his eyes for Cas to understand what he meant.

Cas just smiled and patted Dean on the shoulder. “I like you a lot too, Dean, which is a good thing since we spend so much time together. I’m gonna grab a beer, would you like one?”

Dean watched helplessly as Cas walked out the room. “You’ve got to be kidding me! How could he not get what I was saying? Am I going to have to spell it out for him?” Dean groaned and pressed the buzzer again.

At this point, he didn’t even notice the twisting in his stomach from the buzzer. This time his stomach was twisting from something else. He didn’t say “I love you” very often and apparently he was going to have to say it for Cas to understand what Dean was trying to tell him. Things just got a whole lot harder. He trudged to the Dean Cave, trying to build up his courage. 

“Cas, can I talk to you?” Dean asked as he walked into the room.

“Of course,” Cas said as he paused the TV.

Dean huffed, “Alright, I’m just going to say it! Cas, I love yo- yo-yogurt.”

Cas snorted. “Oook. Thank you for telling me although I never would have thought you would like yogurt. That seems more like something Sam would like.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me! How do I keep screwing this up?” Dean shouted. He didn’t even wait for Cas to walk out the room before pulling the buzzer out and pressing the button.

Dean tried again and this time told Cas he loved yodeling. “Who the fuck even likes yodeling?” Dean screamed after pressing the buzzer again.

He tried again and screwed up, this time tripping over his feet and breaking his wrist as he ran into the Dean Cave. Another try, another failure after he got so tongue tied that he just walked out the room, his head hanging in shame. Three more rewinds, three more failed attempts at telling Cas the truth. Once Dean rewound time again, he sunk to the floor and dropped his head in his hands.

He sat there, feeling hopeless. He could slice a vamp’s head off their shoulders or put a silver bullet straight through a werewolf’s head but he couldn’t tell a dorky angel how he felt about him. “I’ve saved the fucking world multiple times, but whenever I try to tell Cas I love him, I screw up. Maybe, I’m just not meant to be with Cas and this is some crazy sign.”

“Dean?”

The hunter looked up at the soft whisper of his voice. His face paled when he saw Cas standing in the doorway. He scrambled to his feet, refusing to look at the angel. He didn’t look up until Cas reached out and gently forced his chin up. Green locked with blue.

“Did you mean that? What you just said,” Cas asked, fear evident in his voice.

Dean wanted to disagree, wanted to deny the words, but he had been trying to tell the truth to the angel for the past hour. He had just hoped it would be in a different way. “Yeah, Cas, it’s true,” Dean said with a sigh.

Cas’ thumb rubbed against Dean’s cheek. “Why do you sound so upset about that?”

Dean pulled away from Cas and took the buzzer out of his pocket. “I’ve been trying to tell you the truth for the past half hour and couldn’t manage to say it to your face!”

“Dean, you’ve been in the annex for the past hour. I know you said you didn’t want my help, but I couldn’t let you do this all on your own,” Cas said.

Dean shook his head. “No, I’ve been using the rewind buzzer to keep going back in time, but I kept screwing up every time I tried to tell you the truth.”

“How many times have you used the buzzer?”

Dean thought about it before embarrassingly admitting, “Eleven times.”

“And you’ve rewound back to this time every time and not let the new timeline play out?”

“Well, yeah because I kept screwing up,” Dean said angrily.

“Dean, because you kept coming back here, the time loop reset itself. The only way it wouldn’t have is if you had gone back in time and let the new future play out, then I wouldn’t have been sitting on the couch watching Netflix for the past hour,” Cas explained.

Dean shrugged his shoulders, “Not like it really matters. Eleven times trying to tell you how I feel about you and eleven times I fucked up.”

Cas stepped closer and reached out and entwined his fingers with Dean’s. “Twelfth time’s a charm.”

“I didn’t want you to find out that way though. I wanted to tell you to your face but I kept getting so nervous because I really didn’t think you would feel the same way,” Dean admitted, as he dropped his eyes, not looking at Cas.

“Dean, how could you possibly think I don’t feel the same way? Have you never noticed the way I look at you or the unbelievable amount of times I’ve told you we shared a more profound bond? I always take care of you first before healing Sam and I’ve never turned up a chance to work a case with you or join you at a diner for burgers and pie. Dean, I’ve loved you for years but I didn’t think you did,” Cas declared.

Dean looked up in awe. “You really mean all of that?”

“Mhm, every word of it.”

“But why, I’m just a human and a lousy one at that,” Dean said, self-deprecating as always.

“You are no such thing! You are the strongest, bravest man I know and there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for your family! You think so little of yourself because you’ve always made sure everybody else was taken care of. Well, now it’s my turn to take care of you. Please, let me,” Cas begged.

Dean looked into the eyes of the angel he loved. “I’m not strong enough to say no.”

“That’s ok, this one time you can be weak,” Cas whispered before pulling Dean into a kiss. Dean slid his hands into Cas' hair while the angel wrapped one hand around Dean’s waist and the other around the back of his neck.

Cas slid his lips against Dean’s lightly, just savoring the feel of the hunter’s lips against his. Dean, it seemed, wasn’t wanting gentle. Dean pressed his lips harder against Cas’ before slipping his tongue out and licking along the seam of Cas’ mouth. Cas opened immediately and Dean slid his tongue inside of the angel’s mouth. Their tongues met in the middle and slid against each other before moving to explore one another’s mouth. Cas angled his head, allowing him to seal his mouth even more tightly over Dean’s as their tongues continued to dance together.

Dean finally had to pull away, the need for air too great. He smirked when he saw that Cas was just as affected by the kiss. His hair was sticking up at all angles and his lips were swollen and red. Dean figured he didn’t look much better.

Cas looked affectionately at Dean. “Does that prove how I feel about you?”

Dean’s lips turned up at the corners. “Yeah Cas it does. I love you too.” He rubbed his nose against Cas before pressing another chaste kiss to the angel’s lips as his arms slid around Cas’ waist. He let his cheek rest on Cas’ shoulder, enjoying the warmth of being wrapped in the angel’s arms.

Cas smiled down at the hunter, reaching a hand up to run his fingers through Dean’s hair. “I love you so much Dean,” he whispered. He had been wrong, the bunker wasn’t home. This was home, being wrapped around the hunter he had loved for years.

“You know, you were right. That buzzer belongs in Heaven,” Dean whispered.

“No more rewinding time for you,” Cas said with a laugh.

Dean pressed his body even closer to Cas’. “Don’t need to rewind time anymore, I got what I want right here.” The annex didn’t get organized as they spent the rest of the day wrapped up in each other.

#suptober20 #My writing #my OTP #Destiel

[robotslenderman]

Eternal Hearts Liveblog, pt 1

Special thanks to @missn11​, who is probably mortified their name is associated with this travesty of a post, for letting me get my filthy little hands on this piece of embarrassing VTM history.

Okay guys, time to do the thing that’s gonna get me cancelled by fifteen-year-olds in the year 2032:

I’m gonna liveblog Eternal Hearts.

I once promised myself I would never make a rape joke, but today I break that vow because even the rape scenes are (sometimes) just that fucking ridiculous that I had to make fun of them.

This book is just.

Guys.

It’s GLORIOUS.

In the first twenty-four pages alone we have:

A guy is confronted by a locked door, so he whips his dick out. Everyone else acts like this is completely normal.

A guy meeting Final Death because a politician sat on his face. RIP in pieces Noah.

A mortal setting herself on fire, waving her arms around and running at a bunch of vampires yelling “DIE, YOU BASTARDS!”

A guy using his dick as a key ring. (Yeah, it’s the locked door guy.)

Lucita given the Hallowe’en treatment, in that she’s covered with sewage -- but sexy!

Daddy kink on top of the Washington monument.

Only some of the above makes sense in context. Some of it is as baffling in context as it is out of context.

This is the funniest shit I’ve ever read. Nobody told me about this when I went in holy shit.

Time to open this sucker up!

Liveblog under the cut!

DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT, THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING. IF YOU DO NOT KNOW WHAT ETERNAL HEARTS IS, DO NOT READ THIS LIVEBLOG, HOLY SHIT.

You’re in for a ride, and it’s the edgiest, unsexiest ride ever.

First thing I notice: Eternal Hearts is, in fact, written by a woman. Which may mean that if she wanted to scare the shit out of her female readers, she'd know exactly how to do it.

gulp.

(^ I wrote that back when I thought I was gonna traumatise myself by reading this. OH BOY)

Next bit, the rape book is opened by the following foreword:

What follows is an essay that basically boils down to "no! :D but we wrote it anyway!”

Partway through that is this quote:

We’ll come back to that quote later. Several times, I predict.

Aaaand we open straight into a gang rape scene! Oh joy. And there’s church spires, to make it extra edgy.

Oh but then they give her the Kiss so she enjoys it! Yay!

Oh.

She's a shovelhead.

They never mentioned THIS part of the Sabbat recruitment process.

and now she's underground and buried and being raped again? Somehow. Like somebody’s got their entire goddamn fist in there. While under six feet of dirt. I know someone’s got their entire damn fist in there because the Shovelhead’s thinking about how somebody got their entire goddamn fist in there.

(Yeah this is the bit I had to make jokes about because it was that fucking ridiculous. I started this out trying to be respectful. I failed. Miserably. I just can’t fucking do it this is too -- too -- Eternal Hearts-y.)

Like the author just turned to the other people in the credits page and pitched this idea: “guys. Hear me out. What do you think is scarier than being raped or being buried alive?”

“idk what?”

“being raped after being buried alive!”

“That’s a GREAT idea!”

(”Lucy didn’t even break the rules as much as I was willing to let her” Remember that quote? Thank god for that.)

Jean - for that is our poor Shovelhead's name, RIP - seems only mildly concerned about the rape. and the fact it’s still happening.

Like yeah, serious talk, putting my respectful hat on: to be fair, everyone responds to trauma differently. You know how I respond to trauma? I make jokes about it. Like I’m the kind of person to say “what are you gonna do, STAB ME?” for the lols when a guy is pointing a knife at me.

Okay, respectful hat back off, back to edgy humour.

Anyway she’s being fisted by somebody while also six feet underground, somehow, and daydreaming about the guy she’s stalking and about how she’s in love with him, hmm, maybe he had something to do with it? She’s not entirely sure.

(ETA: So an anonymous Discord friend was reading my liveblog and said this:

and I laughed so hard my dog actually pawed at me because she was worried.

Yeah, I’m going to hell, but at least I know I’m taking you guys with me.)

Anyway she starts digging her way out, and I guess she’s still being fisted while she’s digging her way out???? IDK they didn’t say it stopped??? Like that’s gotta make digging your way out difficult.

And then cut to Lucita!

Walking past a protest outside a sex shop. There’s a bunch of Christian protestors outside because they’re bored or something. We get straight back into rapiness with a Dominate:

Damn Lucita, if jizzing your own brains isn't the hottest image you can give a guy, I don't know how what is.

Lucita decides to snack instead of raping him, but does sexually assault him by taking his dick from his pants and leaving it in his hand when he’s unconscious.

Lucita walks into a meeting at a brothel. There are “slaves”. I’m not sure if they’re sex slaves or if they’re actually ghouls, but then again, this is Eternal Hearts so probably both.

She expects Pieterzoon to be there, but he's not. When the others start talking like he's missing, she is completely unconcerned and immediately starts talking as if she knows he's missing.

They move on. Pieterzoon has paid Lucita to assassinate Marcus Vitel. Good fucking luck with that one. Everyone at the meeting is trying to stop her from doing it. Lucita’s like “tough shit he’s already paid me bitch is gonna die”.

Also the Brujah woman present is apparently this scene’s titillation or something because the author loves to remind us about how tight her clothes are and how she's "seductively cuddling" people.

no fucking kidding

I like how the VTM universe goes out of its way to avoid using the terms “son” and “daughter” to avoid the Unfortunate Implications when people inevitably start fucking their Sires

and the author’s like "nah fuck that let’s daddy kink it up.”

Oh and he does it ON TOP OF THE WASHINGTON MONUMENT!! Like gang rape in a churchyard wasn’t edgy enough I guess.

the author can't go a paragraph without reminding us that sex exists and everyone is utterly sex crazed. The bit I blacked out above? That was Lucita daydreaming about hiring a prostitute. Like that’s not erotica, erotica is arousing, this is just voyeurism.

Lucita apparently hasn't yet noticed she's in a porno.

Somebody makes a joke about the Christian protestors gang raping the prostitutes outside. It’s a Ventrue. Of course it is.

Apparently the slave (I guess the word “ghoul” isn’t sexy enough) in the above screenshot is a fucking senator. Pun not intended. She soothes the cranky Brujah by suggesting they get somebody called Torres deported? I have no idea what that has to do with Lucita assassinating Marcus Vitel, but there's almost certainly going to be fucking involved.

(ETA 23/1/21 -- I regret to inform you all that there wasn’t “fucking” involved so much as gang rape. Never mind.)

Lucita and the Brujah guy almost start stabbing each other (so much for that soothing), but somebody has just set the brothel on fire so they have to GTFO.

The mortal senator can't quite fit inside the escape tunnel because her skirt is huge and keeping it on is apparently more important than not dying of smoke inhalation. But it’s okay, she manages it.

The skirt will be important later, unfortunately.

They come to a locked door in the passage. Oh no, whatever will they do?

Will they take a key out of their pocket and unlock it?

Nah, that’s too fucking sensible.

The Brujah that tried to punch Lucita whips out his dick.

Yes.

He actually fucking does that.

Weird flex, but okay.

(ETA 21/1/21 -- I just realised... what if it’s somebody ELSE’S penis he just whipped out? Like the thing was actually just chilling out and he pulls it out the way somebody else pulls out a cucumber. It’s not attached to his body, it’s just THERE?)

Everyone is completely unfazed by this. Both by the fact he whipped his dick out, and the fact he uses it as a fucking key ring.

Like. Is this a habit of his????? APPARENTLY IT IS.

(ETA: Anonymous Discord friend says:

SDFADLFJASDLFJASDF)

They end up in a sewer.

Garinson keeps a key to a sewer on his dick key ring.

(”Lucy didn’t even break the rules as much as I was willing to let her” yeah I just remembered another place more fitting for a sewer key)

THEN!!!

PLOT TWIST!!

The senator suddenly threatens everyone with a lighter!!

After the kindred are done laughing their ass off, she covers herself in whiskey, sets herself on fire and charges them.

I'm sorry but the way it's worded - pin wheeling, cringing - just makes this the funniest shit. It gets even funnier when you remember they’re knee-deep in water. Ever tried to run in water? It’s. not exactly easy. So presumably she’s tripping and stumbling the entire time and somehow still on fire as she does so.

A kindred tries to escape by clawing his way up the wall. He falls. The senator assassinates him by flinging her skirt over his head and sitting on his face. That part of her is also on fire. The skirt and her thighs are on fire.

And I guess they’re obviously not thigh-deep in water any more ‘cause the poor fuck doesn’t survive this.

what a way to fucking go: death by fire pussy.

Everyone panics, except Lucita, who's like "fuck this", cuts off her head, puts out the corpse, then, uh. uses it as a shield against the remaining flames. as you do.

(Between that and the above screenshot, there’s graphic descriptions of what, exactly, the fire is doing to the senator, and how said senator doesn’t give a flying fuck that fire is kinda hurty because she hates vampires that fucking much.)

Lucita meets a Nosferatu who offers to guide her from the sewers. On the next page, we have an illustration of Lucita, in sewage, looking up at the Nosferatu.

You couldn’t possibly make that picture sexy, could you?

Welp the artist went “Challenge accepted!”

So I wanted to show you guys the picture but I didn’t want to get too banned from Tumblr for an Eternal Hearts liveblog, so I went to my friends for help. One of them, @intimidatethevoid​, answered the call to arms:

Well.

This is awkward.

And so she bestowed upon me this glorious, but also cursed, image:

Yeah.

Her shirt’s somehow come off. And she isn’t wearing any knickers. Hence the Filthy Frank sticker.

And that’s gonna wrap up part 1 of my Eternal Hearts liveblog!

For more, like this post in secret shame so that none of your followers have to see it. To cancel me, send angry anon messages and death threats to my inbox.

#Dusty liveblogs #Eternal Hearts #VTM #rape CW #Eternal Hearts CW #DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT oh my god I can't even #I'm going to regret posting this I just know it but I HAD to #eternal hearts liveblog

[waywardnerd67]

My World, My Everything

Summary: She was everything to him. His entire world revolved around her, but a decision had to be made. He had a job to do and in making this decision he would save everything that meant the world to him. Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Angst/Fluff Word Count: 1899 Prompt: “All Our Own” -Radio Company (Lyrics are bold) A/N: This is for @atc74​ Collab Challenge Contest

His finger traced the worn edges of a small photo. The moment in which it was taken as fresh in his mind as if it had happened the day before. It was meant to be the most important day of his life and ended being one of the worst. Slipping the photo back into its spot held within his wallet taking one last, long look at it before closing it in place. Looking out over the dashboard of his car, Dean Winchester looked up into the darkening sky as the end came barreling his way.

October 29, 2005 - San Diego, California

Dean pulled into his normal parking spot at (Y/N)’s apartment building. It had been a few weeks since he last saw her. His case in New Orleans had taken a little longer than expected but now his plan was back on track. Before heading up to her place, he pulled out his phone hitting his dad’s number.

“Dad, when you get this call me. There’s something important I need to talk to about.”

Snapping the phone shut, he grabbed his bag and ran up the exterior stairs with his key in his hand. The door flew open just as he reached the top of the stairs. His eyes traveled the length of her curvy body marveling in her natural beauty. Her bright eyes matched the smile spreading across her face.

“Stop gawking and get your ass in here, Winchester.”

He jogged over and scooped her up holding her tightly, “I missed you pretty girl.”

Leaving (Y/N) had been the one of the hardest moments he had and finally pushed him to make a huge change in his life. Letting her go, Dean set his stuff near the door and kicked off his boots next to the black heels she must have worn to work that day. Seeing his stuff next to hers had his chest tightening with pure happiness.

Leaning against the counter he watched her cook as she told him all about her clients for the day. The only thought running through his mind was that this beautiful, successful business woman was all his. Instinctively he ran his hand over his right pocket of his jeans smiling softly as she continued to talk. Their dinner was simple and filled with laughter as Dean told her all about the voodoo case he had in New Orleans. The rest of their evening was filled with passionate love making and the most restful sleep Dean had in weeks.

Dean awoke to gentle kisses being pressed against his chest and shining eyes staring up at him. The corner of her lips curling into a smirk as he raised an eyebrow at her. One look from her had him pouncing and their morning began as their night had ended.

“Did you think about what we last spoke of?” (Y/N) was snuggled into his side with her leg draped over his waist.

He brushed his calloused fingertips against her soft skin, “Listen to yesterday long before the way it has become and it all came down to you.”

“And…?”

“I don't really know the way, played out stranger than it seemed. But what went down came true like an all day dream.” He pushed himself up as she propped herself up on her elbow.

Her eyes searched his eyes for the unspoken words he was holding deep within him, “Dean, it doesn’t have to be a dream. You’re twenty-six now and can make your own decisions. Especially when it comes to having a stable life.”

He ran one hand through his hair, “I don't wanna be the one to say it's wrong. When the heavens open and a new day comes along. I know I would rather be together alone in a big top circle and a world we can call our own. It's all our own.”

“Does that mean…” the sheet fell from her body as she sat up hope shining in her eyes.

“In a world we can call our own we'll find shelter, darling. Where I'll always promise to never let be. I’m here to stay.”

(Y/N) launched herself onto him kissing him wherever she could get her lips on, “Handsome, that is all I want is you here all the time. You have no idea how happy I am right now.”

“Well, you can show me how happy you are.” Dean laughed as she playfully smacked him.

She got up heading towards her bathroom, “Maybe I will if you join me for a shower.”

Dean was about to follow her when he heard his phone beep with a new voicemail, “I’ll be right there.”

He watched her go in closing the door behind her. Looking at his phone his body tensed as the missed number was his dad’s. Quickly dialing his voicemail he listened to the strange message.

“Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger.”

There was EVP on the message which had panic tightening around his chest. He heard the shower turn on and his heart began to ache painfully. Pulling on his jeans his hand brushed against the small object that brought tears to his eyes. Getting dressed as quickly as he could, Dean grabbed his things then wrote out a note for (Y/N).

“I have to go. I love you, Dean.”

He shut the door as he heard (Y/N) called out to him. Running down the stairs and to his Baby, Dean took off like a bat out of hell. He knew the path all too well down to Palo Alto where his little brother, Sam, was going to college. It had been years since they last spoke but Dean always made a point to go find him from afar. Now, he needed his help in order to find their dad.

Present Day

Dean stood in front of his car alone facing the greatest threat the world had ever seen. Sam was back at the Bunker trying to figure out another way to save the world, but Dean knew it was pointless. This was his burden to bare. This was his destiny. Dying to save the world and his life was worth losing knowing that he was saving the world (Y/N) was living in. As he watched the dark clouds split open and a figure in a white suit emerging from them. Dean closed his eyes, the vision of (Y/N) clearly in his mind before opening them and heading straight for Chuck.

                                                          ***

(Y/N) was wrapped in her favorite blanket when the doorbell rang. A tall man, with long chestnut hair stood there. His eyes were bloodshot and tired looking. He was holding a small shoebox in his hands.

“May I help you?”

“Are you (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” His voice was hoarse as if he had been crying.

She nodded, “Yes I am.”

The man took a deep breath, “My name is Sam Winchester…”

Hearing the surname made her gasp, “You’re Dean’s little brother. W-Where is Dean?”

His hazel eyes connected with hers with tears in them, “D-Dean wanted you to have this when he… when he passed.”

(Y/N) stared at the box shaking her head, “No. N-No… he can’t be. Tell me, he’s around the corner or on his way. Don’t you dare tell me he’s gone!”

Sam held the box out to her, “I-I’m sorry, but I can’t. He sacrificed his life in order to save the world. He defeated God and defended all the people of this world. The only thing he made me promise to do is deliver this box to you.”

As she took a hold of the flimsy shoebox a blood curdling sob erupted from deep within her chest and her body gave out as she fell into Sam’s outstretched arms. He helped her inside to her couch as she let out all of her anguish knowing the world no longer had Dean Winchester in it. Sam sat with her until there were no more tears left for her to give.

“I’m s-sorry.”

He rubbed her back, wiping away his own tears, “No need to apologize. Would you mind if I stay while you open the box? I’ve been watching him carry this around since he came to get me from college. I’m curious what’s inside.”

She nodded her trembling hands taking the lid off. There were all kinds of trinkets from all his travels. A worn copy of her favorite book, Little Women, with his hand written notes. A small photo album with pictures of him throughout the years he was away from her. Seeing his piercing olive eyes and handsome face brought fresh tears down her cheeks. Then there was a small square box and an envelope. Within the box was a simple diamond ring, a soft gasp coming from her.

“Pretty girl, I know you probably hate me and you should. I had to leave. Not because of my dad or the job. I had to leave to keep you safe. There is nothing in this world more important to me than you being alive, safe, healthy. Even though the thought of you being with someone else tears my heart apart, I hope you found someone who loves you as much as I do. I want you to live a full and happy life.

If you’re reading this then Sam has kept his promise. I’m gone but the world is safe. Don’t be sad that I’m gone. There was no choice in the matter and no other way. I had to save the world in order to save you and that meant my death. (Y/N), I love you. You are my world, my everything. I wanted to give you this ring the morning I left. I kept hoping one day I might be lucky enough to give you this in person. Now, I want you to have it to remember that you were the only woman for me. I love you so much. Live a long, beautiful life. -Dean”

(Y/N) took the ring, slipping it onto her finger, more tears falling down her face, “Damn it Winchester, even in death you’re a charming son of a bitch.”

Sam started laughing and (Y/N) found herself joining him. They began telling stories about Dean to one another until the early hours of the morning. Exchanging phone numbers with promises to keep in touch, (Y/N) watched Sam drive away in the all too familiar black Impala. She looked up to the sky, a cool breeze whipping past her.

“Dean Winchester, if you can hear me then you get your ass back down here to me.” She closed her eyes praying that he would be in front of her when they opened.

                                                          ***

A thousand miles away, the Earth split open shaking the ground violently. A large hand grasped the edge of the opening pulling themselves up onto the dirt. Coughing and dry heaving until collapsing onto the ground. Catching their breath and getting up they made their way down the nearest road. Nearly an hour later, they entered a small gas station asking to use the phone.

“This is Sam.” The familiar voice brought a wave of emotions over them.

“Sammy, it’s me. I-I’m back.”

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