#i am simply providing the goods. you guys gotta figure out what to do with it
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new meme just dropped
#a meme for what? i don't know#i am simply providing the goods. you guys gotta figure out what to do with it#julia child#jacques pepin#julia & jacques cooking at home#meme#sanmemeno#santagno#top tino post#pvp enabled
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Canary, Part 6
First
Previous
Tim had been watching her out of the corner of his eyes for a long time. It wasn’t that he was trying to be creepy or anything, he just… didn’t know why she was there. It didn’t make sense. She was relatively low on funds according to what he and Oracle had dredged up, and even Tim in all his billionaire-ness recognized that this place was more expensive than average…
So, why had she come? It wasn’t even close to the motel she was staying at.
The vaguely paranoid -- cautious, he was cautious -- part of him worried that she had somehow known he was there, but there was no way she should have been able to know that. Hell, he hadn’t known he was going to this particular cafe until he’d gotten to work and realized that there were now cameras in the breakroom and his office to make sure he didn’t drink too much.
But, really, it seemed like she was just using the free wifi that the cafe provided to write up a resume.
He relaxed and sunk back in his chair with his laptop while he did his work.
… he didn’t get to work for long.
He picked up on the slight gravel of someone putting on a voice with ease. It was high and sweet, a voice he commonly heard from customer service workers. He chanced a look back at the barista and frowned when he saw her on her phone. Not her, then.
He looked around the tiny coffee shop and cringed a little when he realized what was going on. Shady guy approaches a woman who’s drinking coffee alone? Yeah, that’s never a good thing.
He pushed his laptop into his bag quickly, slung it over his shoulders, put the cap back on his coffee cup so the guy wouldn’t be able to tell that Tim had been there for a while, and rushed over.
He rested his hand on the man’s shoulder.
“Hey, bud, she said no.”
Tim watched both of them tense and their gazes were pulled to him in an instant.
Marinette glanced him up and down once. He watched her eyes lock onto his coffee cup for a second and he carefully turned his hand a little so she could see the name.
She smiled. “You’re late, Timmy. Don’t tell me you got caught up in another meeting?”
He shrugged innocently. “You know how it is.” Then, he split into a grin. “Maybe I should be the one that’s upset, though. Can’t believe you didn’t save me a spot.”
“I tried!” She whined. “He insisted!”
The man chuckled awkwardly. “I see. I’m sorry, I thought you were alone.”
She rolled her eyes. “I told you I wasn’t. Can you move, though?”
“Actually,” Tim said, because he didn’t want to sit in the window where Duke might happen to see him while on patrols. “There’s a free table back this way.”
Marinette tipped her head to the side a little before nodding. “Sure.”
She closed her laptop with a snap, gathered her things into her bag, and followed him back to his table.
That should have been the end of it. Unfortunately, the guy was still watching them. It looked like they weren’t going to be able to do work for a while if they wanted to keep up the pretense that they were friends.
She seemed to know it, too, because she sighed and rested her head on her hand with a small frown. “Guess we have to talk.”
He huffed. “Don’t have to sound so upset about it.”
“Alright. Fine.”
“Not sounding much more excited.”
She rolled her eyes and then brought a bright smile to her face. “Sure, Timmy, sounds great! Can’t wait to have a super fun conversation with you!”
“... nevermind. That’s weird. Why did that almost convince me? I knew it was fake.”
She let herself lean back in her chair, her face falling back to a slightly smug grin. “I’m Parisian,” she said simply.
Yeah. That made sense. Every Parisian Tim had had the (dis?)pleasure of meeting had had an almost unnerving amount of control over the way they presented their emotions.
He snickered. “Why the hell would you move here, then?”
She rolled her eyes. “Our psychopath was so boring. Like, dude, we get it, your wife died or whatever, that sounds like a you problem. Now, a guy deciding to become a jewel thief purely for the gimmick? Way more interesting.”
“Moral grayness is so twenty years ago,” Tim joked.
“Exactly! Give me dumbasses who are evil purely to be evil and good to be good!”
He grinned. “I can see why you like Harry Potter.”
She blinked.
He motioned to her cup. Scrawled across it in the barista’s messy handwriting was ‘He Who Must Not Be Named’.
She relaxed a little, grinning. “I just finished the books so I’m a bit obsessed. Also, every time I tell them that my name is Marinette they misspell it.”
“Don’t feel too bad, baristas are just like that. Heck, they’ve misspelled my name before.”
“... your name is Tim.”
“They spelled it with a y.”
“... why?”
“Yes. Exactly. A y.”
She giggled a little. “No, I mean why would they do that?”
“Oh. No clue. I hope they were just messing with me.”
~
The barista was wiping down the tables. It was nearing closing time and Marinette was feeling more and more sorry for the poor workers the longer they stayed. She knew that, when she had used to work at the bakery, she had always especially hated customers that were there around closing time.
Only two tables remained occupied.
She sighed when she glanced over and saw the guy was still there.
Oh well.
She looked over at Tim. “Care to walk me a few blocks in a random direction to see if we can get rid of him?”
“Certainly,” he said.
“‘Certainly’? I may not be super great with American customs yet but even I know that’s weird,” she teased.
He huffed a little. “Listen.”
“I’m listening.”
His nose scrunched. “No, wait, you weren’t supposed to call me out on the fact that I didn’t have an excuse.”
“Oh. Okay, we can try again.”
“Alright.” He cleared his throat. “Listen,” he said again, this time in a tone that mocked the one he’d said it in the first time.
Convenient. She was intent on mocking him, too: “I’m listening.”
“You’re the worst,” he complained.
She laughed. “I am so not. Joker exists.”
“You’re worse than him,” he said in his most serious voice.
She laughed harder. “No one is worse than him.”
He grinned. “I thought you liked people that were evil purely for being evil.”
“But he’s not,” she argued. “The man just decided one day that he liked the weird guy who dressed like a bat and figured that the best way to get that guy’s attention was to murder people.”
“Gotta admit, it works,” said Tim.
She shrugged, grinning. “Yeah, it does. Makes me wonder what would happen if the Big Bad Bat didn’t come, though.”
He tipped his head to the side slightly and then shrugged. “I don’t know, actually. He usually stops it in time.”
“I think he’d freak out.”
“Absolutely.”
She grinned and stretched lazily, head tipping back.
“He’s still following us, isn’t he?” Asked Tim.
“Yep,” she said, popping the ‘p’.
He groaned a little. “Great. Looks like we’re heading to the library.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You go to libraries? You could probably buy every ebook in existence and have a few billion left over.”
“One of my sisters works there, I can ask her to get rid of the guy,” he explained. “But I like libraries. There’s something quaint about them.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, it’s nice to see how the common folk live sometimes.”
He returned her eye roll. “Not like that. I spend a lot of time staring at screens, I have a special appreciation for regular old books.”
“That’s nice. I wish I had time to sit down with a physical copy like that.”
“You see, I have this genius strategy for making time: not taking care of myself.”
“Go on, this is intriguing.”
“Well, eating and sleeping, right? Everyone thinks they’re totally necessary things otherwise you’d die or whatever. But, listen, that’s just a hoax made up by the government to perpetuate capitalism.”
She nodded eagerly. “Totally totally totally. What’s your solution?”
“Coffee communism.”
“Yes, you should use your rich boy money to lobby Congress.”
He grinned. “I totally should. But I can’t run it by my family.”
“No way! You never know who's capitalist anymore, they could be plants placed by the sleep industry to ensure that you don’t go through with it.”
He gasped. “No! You think? My own family?!”
She nodded grimly. “It’s always the ones closest to you that betray you.”
And then he broke character, snickering behind his hand. She beamed.
They reached the library and he smiled as he held the door open for her. He asked her to wait while he talked to his sister and she waved him off casually, telling him to take his time.
She pulled out her phone and pressed her lips together thinly as she made a note to head over later that night to give the man -- Henry -- his money. She’d give him a little tip because, for a moment there, she’d almost forgotten that they were just acting. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to purposely trigger herself for the sake of believability but, hey, if she was going to try and dupe one of the smartest businessmen alive into talking to her, she needed to go all out.
Speaking of Tim, she updated the file of Tim’s favorite cafes plus the probabilities of him visiting each one. It was for his oldest brother, Richie Wayne. She didn’t know why Richie was the one to ask for it seeing as he spent most of his time in Bludhaven and therefore likely wouldn’t find much use in it, but no one ever really knew why Richie Wayne did anything. The man famously had almost as much cotton between his ears as his father.
But, Richie Wayne was also just as rich as his father, so… she’d give him his file later that night after checking her math with her favorite graphing calculator.
A redhead in a wheelchair rolled past Marinette and she absently held the door open for her, only to be surprised when she cursed out Henry.
She watched as Henry held his hands up and started backing away from the woman in the wheelchair, and then he ran down the nearest alley.
(… she’d give Henry a bigger tip. The man had just wanted a tiny side job to help pay for his wife and kids that wasn’t being a henchman, he didn’t deserve this.)
She opened the door for the woman on her way back inside and mumbled her thanks. The woman nodded once and continued on her way.
Marinette leaned back against the wall again and scrolled through Twitter as she waited for Tim to reappear. Apparently, Poison Ivy was already back in Arkham. Something about an intern at the botanical gardens watering plants wrong. Wild.
Marinette felt someone sidle up beside her and, after a quick glance confirmed that it was Tim, pocketed her phone.
He smiled at her, a tote bag over his shoulder.
“Did you go grocery shopping while I wasn’t looking, somehow?”
He hesitated before holding it out to her. “It’s the French dubs of the Harry Potter movies.”
She blinked as the bag was thrust into her hands and looked down at it. Yep, that was Harry Potter in French. She also, vaguely, noted the tiny slip of paper his phone number scrawled across it.
She slung the bag over her shoulder.
“I’m never going to return these. You’re going to rack up so much debt.”
~~~
NightwingsAss9384: does anyone know why nightwing and canary hate each other?
ScareCrane: She stabbed Batman once on accident and somehow got away with blaming it on him
Daylightwing: She refuses to let B adopt her.
RiddleMeThis: They think it’s funny when their stans fight.
SignalOfficial: They said ‘I’m the only flippy bitch allowed in New Jersey’ and have been fighting ever since
Yummmmmm: He has to or else Robin will get jealous because he’s the only stabby sibling allowed
Oracle: They’re fighting over who gets to change their name to ‘The Dodo’ first.
DeadHood: Nightwing is jealous that Canary was the first one of us to think to have a full-on bird mask.
TheBetterCanary: every time i go into the batfam tag to try and avoid them all i see is his fancams
SpoilerAlert: they’re both convinced that they’re the hottest bachelor/bachelorette in gotham
NightwingsAss9384: im beginning to think no ones going to tell me.
BlackBat: :)
~~~~~
Next
Perma taglist: @nathleigh @peachmuses
Canary taglist: @jayjayspixiepop @unoriginalmess @miraculousfanfic127 @probably-a-hologram @iloontjeboontje
#if i did a kofi would anyone donate#probably not#canary#maribat#timmari#timari#timinette#shutterbug#marinette dupain cheng#ladybug#tim drake#red robin
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quiet rides ⇾ jjk. [M]
𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ boyfriend!jungkook x reader (f.)
𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒 ⇾ established relationship, smut, fluff
𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ bored out of their minds on a seven hour road trip with their friends, Jungkook and his girlfriend decided to go on a ride themselves.
𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 3.3k
𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ trying to stay quiet sex, car sex, dom!jungkook, daddy kink, praise kink, slight degradation kink, slight fingering, choking, hair pulling, oral (m. receiving), unprotected sex (wrap them up folks), cockwarming, edging, cum eating, creampie, slight overstimulation, exhibition kink, lowkey filth
𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ gotta love some daddy!boyfriend jungkook. extremely unedited. if you have any requests, please send them my way. enjoy!
The humming engine and ripples of the wind faintly filled the silence within the SUV. You were bored out of your mind, looking between all your friends and wondering how the hell they were doing just fine for the past four hours. Namjoon was sitting just behind the driver’s seat where Jin was, enthralled with his writing as he scowled at his notebook and shifted in his seat way too much for your liking. Yoongi sat beside him with his earbuds in and music blasting so loud, you could hear it all the way in the back from your seat. Taehyung sat between them, editing photos on his phone while he too bopped his head along to the music in his earbuds. Jimin took the second row all to himself. He was previously sitting beside Taehyung, but had convinced him during your last reset spot to sit by Namjoon and Yoongi so that he could lay down. He always got a back case of car sickness on long trips like these. And Hoseok sat in the passenger’s seat, muttering directions to Jin and occasionally making cute sound effects.
Everyone managed to keep themselves busy but you. Even your boyfriend of one year, who sat beside you in the last row of seats, was playing some stupid game on his phone, muttering curses under his breath every so often. You had tried to entertain yourself, gazing out the window to daydream, listening to some music, reading a book, but everything just seemed to lose it’s appeal all too quickly.
You sighed, leaning your head back against the car seat with a pout. Jungkook pretended he didn’t notice just to get under your skin. He knew you adored his attention and would sometimes purposely deny you it just because he simply could. You huffed again, louder this time, and tried to catch his gaze in the corner of your eye.
Jungkook exited his game and locked his phone before looking at you. He mimicked your pout and annoyed eyes, silently giggling to himself. You bit your lip to keep from laughing, wanting him to know you were seriously bored and done with the stupid car ride.
“Just three more hours,” he reassured. He knew you were getting restless, wanting to just be there already and lounging on the beach with him by your side. “Try to relax, hun,” he offered a gentle smile, curling a strand of your hair behind your ear.
You exhaled deeply and nodded. You weren’t sure how you’d be able to relax with the awkward blend of Taehyung and Yoongi’s faint music, Namjoon’s constant shifts and Hoseok’s sound effects. You were going to ask him what he would suggest you do, however you somehow got lost in his soft gaze. It wasn’t the first time this happened, but you still weren’t used to the feeling. An idea trickling into your mind, making you blush under his gaze.
He furrowed his brows at you, wondering why you were going red all of a sudden. Before he could ask, you relocated your hand from your lap to his crotch, cupping his soft cock as it began to get hard under your touch.
A gasp got caught in his throat from the sudden action. He looked down at it confused, but didn’t make an effort to remove your hand or tell you to stop. “Was this morning not enough?” He whispered, looking back up at you.
You smiled sweetly, then licked your lips before replying, “Kookie, don’t you know by now? I can never get enough of you.” Your voice was dripping with sugar. The sweet innocence you radiated made him bite his lip as he swallowed hard, bobbing his adam’s apple. You began to palm him through his jeans, only just making him shiver against your touch.
“Think you’re being cute?”
“I know I am.”
Wrong answer. His hand shot up to wrap tightly around your throat. Your eyes widened, darting around the car to see if anyone had noticed. They were too consumed with whatever the hell they were doing to care about you two back there.
“Wanna try that again, babe,” he hissed, somehow still sounding kind through his rough tone.
You remained silent, knowing better than to talk back to him right now. Your hand on his crotch ceased all movements, simply resting there and feeling him grow harder in your palm. He seemed satisfied with your silence, loosening his grip on your throat and pulling you in for a gentle peck upon your lips.
He completely let go of your throat as he sat back in his seat. “Good girl,” he hummed. His hands then moved to unbuckle his belt. “If you’re so desperate for something to do,” he started, shifting his pants low enough to pull out his cock. “I can always provide you with suggestions.”
Your mouth watered at the sight of his big cock. Hard and slightly curved, it stood tall. You glanced around again, making sure no one caught you leaning down to take that cock deep in your mouth. Usually, you wouldn’t be so bold. You lick up and down his girthy shaft first, swirl your tongue around his tip, suck up all the precum he would provide, then begin to take him inch by throbbing inch. But, with how you pissed him off earlier, you wanted to show him how much you regret your actions.
You coated half his cock instantly with your saliva. He inhaled sharply, enjoying the quiet, wet noises of your slobbers and slurps. His hands pulled your hair back into a makeshift ponytail and he used that grip to guide your head up and down his cock. He smirked at the sight of you so willingly going down on him while all his friends were around. He admired your efforts, gazing at your eager eyes as you enjoyed yourself.
You pulled up suddenly, confusing him. You didn’t really register that he was about to tell you off for it, eyes trained on that wet cock as you repositioned yourself to be sitting on your knees atop the cushioned seats of the car. Once you were comfortable, you returned your mouth around his cock, moaning at the salty taste of his precum.
Jungkook rested his head back against the headrest at the returned contact, eyes fluttering closed in a state of pleasure. Though he was loving the feeling of your mouth and wanted desperately to get lost in it, he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes for too long. He looked back down at you a second later, knowing it would’ve been a shame to miss seeing his babygirl at work.
You pulled back from your head bobs until your lips were pressed against his tip. You continued to pump his cock with both your small hands. His cock still hadn’t been fully taken inside your mouth yet. You were working your way to it. For now, however, you felt like he needed to be a bit wetter. You collected the precum you had in your mouth with some saliva and spat it over his cock.
He let out a shaky sigh at the sight. One of his hands remained on your head, holding your hair while you went back to your previous rhythm of sucks and swirls of your tongue, while his other hand slid down your back and to your ass, rubbing your just barely covered asscheeks. Since being in your new position, you flowy skirt had crept up to your hips, revealing a bit of your bare ass. You had been wearing panties this morning, but Jungkook took them after fucking you against his luggage for talking back. They now sat in one of his pockets, staining his jeans with the scent of you.
You felt yourself getting wet at the memory, pressing your thighs together as you took him a bit deeper. You were about to moan when Jungkook suddenly pushed your head all the way down his cock, bottoming out in your throat and making you gagging uncontrollably. His hand fixed your skirt, covering your ass once more and he coughed to cover up your lewd sounds.
“You okay?” Jin asked, glancing at Jungkook from the rearview mirror.
Your eyes watered as you held your breath to subside all your gags. Jungkook ceased his fake coughs and nodded, “just fine.
Hoseok turned back to check on him, causing Taehyung to do the same. “Where’s (Y/N)?”
“Sleeping,” Jungkook immediately answered. His hips involuntarily buckled into your mouth and you gripped onto the hem of his shirt to remain steady and still.
Hoseok nodded and turned around. Taehyung glanced at Jimin’s sleeping figure, making sure he was okay too before turning back around as well.
Jungkook released his grip on you, and you rose up enough to look up at him but not enough for them to see you in the mirror should they glance back. Tears were streaming down your face and your mouth was glistening with your saliva and remnants of his precum.
He offered you a sheepish smile, soothing your ruined hair down. “I’m sorry, babygirl,” he mumbled. “I didn’t realize he was staring at me until I glanced at the mirror.”
You licked your lips, in an attempt to clean the mess around them, and nodded. You couldn’t really blame him. Besides, you were panting all too much to reply to him anyways. He nudged on your shoulder to signal you to sit up and wiped whatever drool was left on your face with the back of his hand. “Come sit on daddy’s cock, princess,” he cooed.
You nervously looked back to the front of the car. “I thought you told them I was sleeping,” you replied. It’s not that you didn’t want to sit on his cock; that was all you wanted. But the last thing you needed was any of the guys getting a good view of your fucked out face and features. That right was only reserved for Jungkook as his beautiful sex faces belong to you as well.
Jungkook was already helping you climb over his lap as he reassured, “just lean back and shut your eyes, baby. They won’t know the difference.”
He lifted your skirt enough for you to spread your legs a bit and sink down on his cock. You hurried the action, biting down on your lip to keep from screaming at the amazing burn of the stretch. Your ass finally met his hips and you did as he told you, leaning your back against him and fluttering your eyes closed.
“Try not to look like you have a cock in you, babygirl,” he chuckled against your jawline, admiring your parted lips and knitted brows.
You wanted to follow orders but his cock just felt so fucking good, throbbing against your cunt walls. You rolled your hips a bit, gasping at the subtle friction, but Jungkook was quick to end it all, holding your hips still with an unforgiving grip. You were sure you’d see bruises surface in their wake later.
Jungkook tsked against your skin, “what did we say about behaving, hunny?”
You shuddered against him. Your eyes slowly opened and you turned to look down at him with a pouty. “Sorry,” you whispered.
He breathed a chuckle, waving your misbehaviour away just from the mere sight of you looking so helplessly cute. “Just stay still.”
“We’ll be there in about an hour,” Hoseok announced in reply to Jimin’s question.
All the guys were engaging in lively conversations, abandoning their previous tasks and singing along to their upbeat playlist. Only you and Jungkook remained silent, his arms wrapped around your waist. He was forced to do this as you kept shifting about. With his strong hands holding you down, it was impossible for you to move. His occasionally twitching cock was the only friction you were allotted.
You rested your head against the headrest in front of you and cried desperate tears of frustration. You were ready to scream “fuck it,” and start bouncing on his cock, simply wanting to feel something. Jungkook kissed your back, muttering words of encouragement in hopes to calm you down. You knew he was ready to throw all caution out the car window too and ram his hips up into you, that this edging wasn’t one sided. But, you still couldn’t stop your silent tears.
“You’re doing so well, babygirl.” Jungkook whispered, leaning over you to have his lips meet your ear. His cock reached deep inside you, forcing a sob out as they guys belted the chorus of the song. Their voices masked your slip up.
He kissed your cheek, tasting your tears no doubt. “Look, at you taking daddy’s cock like the good girl you are, huh? You’ve been behaving so well. Such a good little girl. I’m going to reward you later for that baby.”
You raveled in his praises, whimpering meekly as you tried to calm yourself down. You knew it was a useless task, his cock always and forever being your weakness, but if you didn’t at least try you were going to scream.
“Can you take the next exit?” Yoongi asked, as the song ended.
Jin sighed, quirking his head to the left a bit. “Can’t you hold it? We’re almost there,” he replied, readjusting his grip on the steering wheel.
“I can’t and won’t,” he stubbornly answered over the next tune that played.
Jin compiled without another word, signalling to move into the next lane towards the exit. He must’ve known he wouldn’t hear the end of it if he didn’t.
You couldn’t believe it. This stop was going to tack on an extra twenty minutes to the trip. That was twenty more minutes you'll remain on his cock, twenty more mintues of blissful torture. A loud whine you couldn’t at all help escaped you.
The guys turned to look back at you with concern washing over them. Hoseok turned down the volume as they all asked a series of “you alright?”
You nodded, unable to answer conhertantly. Namjoon was the first of them to notice your tears. “Are you hurt?” he asked, looking between you and Jungkook.
Jimin, being the closest to you, began to rub your head out of concern. Jungkook huffed a quiet growl in your ear, causing shivers to run up and down your spine, and caught Jimin’s wrist. The harsh action shocked everyone in the car into confused silence. Jimin stared at Jungkook, expectedly waiting for an explanation.
“She has a headache,” he muttered. “It’s best not to touch there. It’ll only make it worse.” His voice sounded surprisingly steady and believable. He then released Jimin’s hand and returned his arm back to his hold around your waist.
They all nodded, and promised to keep it down. You stayed settled on Jungkook’s cock, quietly whining and crying into the headrest in front of you.
The car pulled into the parking lot. Jin and Hoseok jumped out to get some food, while Yoongi and Jimin left to use the washroom. Namjoon stayed behind with Taehyung, discussing the things they wanted to do once they got there.
“Hyung, do you mind going to grab us some water?” Jungkook asked.
Namjoon and Taehyung looked at each other, trying to figure out which one of them Jungkook was referring to. Namjoon was the closest to the door so he nodded and said he’d be right back. After a minute or two, Jungkook conveniently sighed out in feigned annoyance.
Taehyung turned back, raising a brow as a means of asking what was wrong.
“I forgot to tell him to grab (Y/N) some aspirin for her headache,” he smoothly lied, breath suddenly catching in his throat. He cleared it and asked, “do you mind going to get it?”
Taehyung spared you one last pitiful glance and nodded. “Do you guys want anything to eat too?”
You shook your head quickly, finally catching onto Jungkook’s drift and just wanting Taehyung to leave already.
“Just grab us whatever Jin gets for himself,” he replied.
Taehyung nodded and jumped out of the car. Jungkook waited for him to be far enough before removing his arm from your waist and replacing them with his rough fingers. “Jump,” he growled.
You didn’t need to be told twice, immediately bouncing up and down rapidly on his cock. You were thankful you had his hands guiding you up and down his shaft because you were growing weaker with every thrust. Tears continued to fall freely down your face at finally being able to ravel at the feeling of his cock rubbing against your tight walls and slamming against the one right spot. Your orgasm was already on the edge those last few thrusts triggering it in full effect.
“D-daddy, I’m gon-” you started screaming your warning but he cut you off.
“Just fucking do it!” he groaned, clenching his jaw.
You came all over him, quivering, crying, screaming his name as the car shook from your desperate movements to ride out your high. Jungkook’s orgasm was right behind yours, strong body stiffening while unleashing his full load deep in you as you continued to bounce on him.
When you couldn’t take anymore, you fell back limp on his chest. He jerked his hips up into you a couple of more times, swirling his cum with yours before resting back too. His lips showered your neck with kisses. “I’m so proud of you, babygirl,” he chuckled. “You really took daddy’s cock for a ride.”
You blushed, breathy giggles escaping you as you tried to catch your breath. “I can’t help it,” you replied in a whine.
He laughed and kissed your cheek. As he wiped your tears away, his cock began to soften inside you. You shifted uncomfortable, suddenly starting to feel overstimulated. Jungkook couldn’t put you through anymore teasing after that two hour long edge you were both battling against. He helped you up and off his cock, cupping your pussy from leaking all over the rental.
“Shit, we didn’t think this through,” Jungkook chuckled, catching gallops of your mixed cum in his hand.
You sighed, wondering what the fuck to do now. It was only a matter of time before they returned. You did the only thing you could think of, hovering your hand under his. “Eat up, daddy,” you blushed.
His cheeks tinted a light pink too. He brought his cum coated fingers to his mouth, groaning. You caught some cum as well, mimicking his actions. You held his gaze all throughout your filthy meal together. Jungkook pushed his fingers in you, collecting more cum to eat. You hissed at the contact, not yet recovered from his last encounter down there. He ate what was left of your cum off his hands as you fixed your skirt.
“The moment we get to the beach, I’m gonna clean you up properly,” he promised, sucking his fingers clean.
You nodded and with a little shrug replied, “I think I’ll be ready for another ride by then.”
note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.
#jeon jungkook#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#bts fanfic#bts jeon jungkook#bts jungkook#bts smut#bts fluff
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Fridays, gotta love em' (A continuation)
Low-key wanna write an actual fic to go with that idea but...headcanon format is low-key funnier so:
Talking about this fic
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So the entire premise of "Fridays, gotta love em'" is pretty much some weird crossover/reverse isekai/dimension travelling
Basically I just wanted to see WMMAP Claude struggle with modern tech because my humor has devolved into this. Also I wanted to see how a modern LP-verse would work.
Now I think Modern LP Athy would probably get better emotional support? Because she's not exactly isolated in a modern equivalent of the Ruby Palace.
Modern LP Athy basically has a deadbeat dad aka modern LP Claude. Although she still has Lily taking care of her. In a modern LP verse, I'd guess Claude ignores his daughter in favour of his niece simply because of inability to move on from Diana-Jennette (Did I spell that right??) looks like Penelope, and I'd say it's easier to face the child born of your dead cheating girlfriend and your equally deadbeat dad of a brother (I still idk if Anastacius would be a good dad, but since this is a modern lp au he's not) than your own child who constantly reminds you of your dead spouse.
Claude provides funds for Athy's upbringing, education, etc. But he's not actually there for her. Lily and Felix are more like parents than this guy. (It's still pretty much emotional neglect though Claude.) He's more of a walking wallet than her Dad really.
Now Athy is brought up mostly by Lily, and Felix since there's no way to hide the fact he has a kid. So while she does grow up yearning for her nearly always absent biological father, she has a good father figure in the form of one (1) Felix Robane.
Later she moves out and gets an apartment of her own ig.
Anyways so back to the ACTUAL plot
Yes Athy here concusses the reverse isekai-ed wmmap Claude into oblivion with her door. Why? Because Claude passing out at least once is completely obligatory and needed.
So Athy hauls wmmap Claude onto her couch. Upon closer inspection, she realises this rando in her apartment is pretty much a carbon copy of her deadbeat dad. So Athy's thought process is basically:
My Dad??? Is in my apartment???? Dressed in robes???? Is he cosplaying why is he HERE
She ties him up and waits with pepper spray and a frying pan for him to wake up. A bit like that scene from Tangled where Eugene is tied up with Rapunzel's hair.
So when Claude wakes up he's basically like "where am I, why am I tied up and why is my daughter looking like she doesn't know me and what is she wearing wtf is happening." Also his magic isn't very stable rn because plot and he just got forcibly chucked to an alternate universe.
And when he opens his eyes Athy can now see that yup, this is defo her dad. (She calls him Father though, because like they say "Father is for emotional distance"). So she basically goes "Father wtf are you doing here (you deadbeat)" with an added "why are you cosplaying"
wmmap Claude has no idea wtf she's saying and is now lowkey sad he's hearing his daughter (*cough* lowkey emotional support child *cough*) call him "father" bc emotional distance. But then he's like wait what if this ISN'T my daughter
Ofc this Athy is technically his Athy, just an alternate universe version of her. So that gets resolved after a bit. Then this Athy learns that this is basically a fantasy AU version of her father. Except he's somehow an ok parent. Bit of angst there seeing as her universe's version is practically a deadbeat parent
But now we have one (1) overprotective dad aka wmmap Claude (sudden image of him collecting Athys like pokemon) who is technically a tech dino
So shenanigans: Claude inwardly freaking out over the TV. What is this glowing box with pictures. Advanced memory stone???
They end up sitting down and talking about modern day technology. Claude is pretty interested, so Athy brings out some of the books she has and they go over them. Claude seems especially interested in cameras/camcorders/the likes. (Instant pics without using a memory stone/hiring a painter? He's pretty interested)
Eventually Athy's gonna need to get some clothes for him. And since this world's Claude doesn't really notice/care about her and what she does, Athy has no problem using her Dad's money to buy this Claude some modern-day wear because let's face it, he'd cause a commotion wearing that robe-and let's not mention the commotion caused by his face and (partially exposed) body.
Claude likes the sweatpants and shirt combo. It's comfy.
Also back to wmmap Claude being an overprotective Dad: he grows to really care for this Athy-also, he can probably empathise with the daddy issues/deadbeat dad part, even if said deadbeat dad is technically him. So don't hurt his newly adopted sunshine child because I can't guarantee you'll live another day. (Sometimes he thinks of taking her back to his own dimension when finding a way back.)
But when he does, Athy won't ever go with him. Because no matter how much she grows to care for this alternate version of her father, she cares more for Felix and Lily. To her, they're her "real" parents.
So if this was a fic, the ending would be quite bittersweet I suppose.
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Do I know what I'm doing here? Nope.
Might elaborate more/flesh out some more of this if I have enough time and the motivation to do so.
#headcanon#wmmap#wmmap au#who made me a princess#sbapod#suddenly became a princess one day#fanfiction#claude de alger obelia#athanasia de alger obelia#story ideas#how many tags am I supposed to put here#au#my ideas
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Hey i got a ask what about the other champions for jealous yandares (sorry if im buggin u)
You’re totally not bugging me @batmanisepic, thank you for taking the time to send me a request :D Ok, so it was only after I finished writing this that I noticed the jealousy part in the request. My bad, haha. Hopefully this is ok though. If you still wish for a version that focuses more on the jealousy part, feel free to send me another ask and I’ll be happy to do it :)
(Warning; minor mentions of death in Urbosa’s section)
Link:
Is the obsessive stalker type
Good luck avoiding him
Being Zeldas personal guard has made Link a professional at tracking
You’d be one of the reasons he hasn’t gone off to fight Ganon right away
You’ll always feel like you’re being watched, but can never seem to find anything whenever you check
Little do you know, there’s little shadow hiding out of sight, as it follows you home
He even has his own private viewing spot near your window, to watch you go to bed
He doesn’t need to sleep much himself, so he’s can watch you all night without trouble
If anyone opened his sheikah slate, they’d see his album was completely filled with photos of you
He seems to lose the ability to speak whenever he tries to talk with you
So for now, he settles for simply admiring you at a distance
If he overhears you mentioning something you want, you’ll find it lying on your doorstep the next morning
Just hope that he never hears you complaining about someone
It could be over a spat with your friend or a minor slight from the neighbours
It doesn’t matter to him. Whoever it was, they hurt you
Link’s not going to let that slide
Your town might suddenly become a bit quieter after that
Consider it a favour from the champion, whether you wanted it or not
He’s happy to dispose the trash that dares bother you
Urbosa:
The projective restraining type
The death of Zeldas mother takes a larger toll then she thought
It doesn’t really show though, until one day she spots you visiting her town
Your resemblance to her late friend was striking
You later receive a personal invite to dine with the Gerudo chief that evening
It’s a bit perplexing that you were being invited by the Chief herself, but who were you to pass up the opportunity?
The night goes surprisingly well. Urbosa explains that she enjoys welcoming new visitors whenever she can find the time
(Psst. Spoiler alert, she’s lying.)
Many noble pursuits later, you somehow find yourself sharing your entire life story with her, down to the very last detail
If you weren’t so tipsy, maybe you would’ve noticed how your drinking buddy was listening a bit too intent-sly
It’s not too long after that you black out
When you wake up the next morning, you’re in an unfamiliar room
There’s only one door in the room, but find that it’s locked when you tried to open it
After pounding on the door and shouting for help, the door finally swings open, and Urbosa steps inside with a tray filled with your favourite foods
“Ah, I’m glad to see you awake little Vai.” She winks at you. “I was worried the drinks may have been too strong for you last night.”
She doesn’t give any straight answers to your questions, just telling you to “Enjoy your time here.”
In truth, you were locked in a hidden room located in Urbosas private quarters
No one but the current chief knows about its existed
It was the safest place in the desert, and only she had access to it
She lost her dear friend once, and doesn’t wish to repeat the experience
Provides you with whatever you request for
The only exception is your freedom
In exchange, you become a kind of comfort doll to her
Dresses you in outfits the late queen favoured, and talks to you about old memories of her until you have them memorized by heart
There's no escape from there. The only exit's either locked, or being blocked by an 8 ft. Gerudo fives times your strength
At one point starts telling you about Zelda, and how she’s fared growing up
She also mentions that she looks forward to reuniting you with “your” daughter
That day never comes, as she falls later to the Thunder Blight on Vah Naboris
No one else knows about Urbosas secret room, or of the Hylian trapped within
You’re left to rot inside, trapped for the next century or so
(See, this is why there should be royal therapists guys)
Mipha:
(Oh sweet cheese and crackers, why am I corrupting the sweet bean?)
Nope, can’t do it
I physically cannot see this girl as anything but a sweetheart
Like, she’s a badass. But a pure-hearted badass nonetheless
If she was a yandere, she’d probably be a harmless type
She’d still be obsessed with you like a typical yandere, but her main desire revolves around your personal happiness
Won’t do anything crazy to those close to you, because she knows that would cause you heartbreak
Her mantra is basically “As long as they’re happy, I’m happy”
(Can-I’m sorry, can someone please give this girl a hug? Because Dear Hylia, she deserves so much better.)
(You’ve done Mipha wrong, Botw. I love you, but you’ve done her wrong.)
Daruk:
The other Gorons try to talk Daruk down as they slowly approached him
“Take it easy boss, we just wanna-”
He just swings his boulder breaker around at anyone who starts to get too close
“None of you are getting ‘yer grubby mitts near them, so BACK OFF!!”
The group gets nervous. No one’s ever seen Daruk act so aggressive or hostile before
Even Link can’t get through to the mighty Champion.
Daruk just holds his breaker out again, pointing it towards him in warning
“I’m sorry little guy, but you gotta understand why I can’t back down.”
Link tries to push forward, but his friend’s too far gone at this point
“Just leave us alone, brother. No-one needs to get hurt.”
Eventually, the young champion gives up.
He figured if he couldn’t get through to him, no one can.
Link starts herding the other Gorons out of the area
Reluctantly, they follow him back to town. A somber mood hangs heavily among them
Once they’re all out of sight, Daruk finally relaxes and lowers his weapon
He sits down and takes a moment to grin down at his prize. A few of the Gorons can still be heard in the distance
“Geez, he could’ve shared some with us!”
Daruk ignores their groaning and takes a large bite, savouring the fresh taste of mineral that warms his tongue
He should probably feel bad, but it was the best Rock Roast he’s ever cooked
He plans to enjoy every bit of it
#Lol gotcha on that last one didn't I?#the only thing Daruk's a yandere for is food#daruk the glutton#botw headcanons#link x reader#linkxreader#urbosa x reader#urbosaxreader#mipha x reader#miphaxreader#daruk botw#daruk#botwxreader#botw x reader#botw imagines#my writing#botw
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Bakudeku canon divergent, vampire quirk AU
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24
When Bakugou finally woke up in the Ena City Hospital, his head was splitting worse than a punch from Kirishima in full quirk, and ears rang with the force of all 108 New Year’s bell tolls. If he’d had no memory of the night before, Bakugou swore he’d just survived the worst hangover in history. Even his eyes hurt from the bright, piercing fluorescent lights and they weren’t even open! He turned his head to the side, noticing how much effort it took just to shift in such a small manner. It was as if his body was drained of... “Ugh, that bastard,” he groaned. ‘Fucker bit me.’ And as if to add insult to injury, a pin-prick pain in his neck revealed itself in that revelation.
His arm flopped up, hand straining with jerky strokes, reaching to touch the fresh bite wound located at the junction of his neck and shoulder. He flinched at the tender, bruising pain that sent a shock down his spine. Son-of— This just in! Pro Hero Dynamite cast in one of those cliché vampire movies that went straight to video. Definitely not the career start he’d envisioned.
“Oh, good you’re finally awake Mr. Bakugou.”
“Who the fuck are you?” he spat at the male voice. “And can someone turn the fucking lights off?!”
“I am Doctor Ishihira, and my apologies,” the doctor flicked off the overhead light. “Is that better?”
“Yeah,” he grumped.
“Mr. Bakugou, you were found yesterday morning and brought in suffering from hypovolemic shock due to severe blood loss and dehydration. We’ve treated you with 3 liters of IV fluids and blood plasma to bring your numbers back up, however you’ll still be groggy until your body replenishes the nutrients you were stripped of.”
Over a day had passed! At hearing he’d been out cold for so long, Bakugou immediately clenched his fists, swearing up and down about being released until they threatened to sedate him for longer. Longer?! He begrudgingly relented and settled down, but damn it! That meant Midoriya had another head start on him again! And now that the man knew he was on his trail, finding him would be a lot more difficult!
“What the hell is hypo-whatever shock?” Bakugou questioned.
“When you were found, you were in and out of consciousness and rambling incoherently, all signs of severe blood loss. The fatigue you’re still feeling is also due to the effects of it. Luckily the amount of loss wasn’t enough to start shutting down your organs.”
The doctor continued explaining a few more details regardless of the tantrum like a robot. Minor injuries he’d been treated for. The obvious puncture wounds in his neck, questioning Bakugou about any description he could provide of his attacker. He wasn’t about to tell this doctor or any authority figure who the true culprit was, so he feigned a temporary retrograde amnesia. Based on a raised brow, peering over his glass’s expression, the doctor didn’t look very convinced. Oh well, Bakugou really didn’t care about the man’s opinion.
“Mr. Bakugou, we also called you parents…”
“You what?!” Bakugou tried to jump off the bed, but his body absolutely refused to respond and ended up flopping like a dying fish. Ugh! He really was worse off than he’d thought.
“I’m sorry, but you are a minor, so we were obligated to do so. However, they did give us permission to treat and release you on your own recognizance once we felt you were better.”
Well, that was good news. ‘Sounds like mom actually listened to my letter.’ Or the authorities surely would have shown up by now. “Ugh! So, how much longer am I stuck here?”
“If you continue to recover well, tomorrow morning.”
Fuck! Now a three-day head start! Just great, he groaned. Midoriya could get far away with that kind of a jump start. “Fine, whatever! Now go the fuck away.”
The doctor left the room after explaining how nurses will be monitoring his progress, but to also let them know if anything started to feel worse. They needed to know if he developed any lasting effects from organ damage. Once he was alone again, Bakugou rolled gingerly onto his side as his mind processed the new information. Whatever Midoriya had been hit with must be the cause of this weird blood thirst that resembled a goddamn vampire plot line. Perhaps the significance of the blood coloring in his eyes was a sign of that thirst taking hold? That’ll be a handy tell, too bad it seemed to appear within seconds of the next step.
But if Midoriya had just fed on a victim, and history showed at times, a span of days before the next incident, what had caused his friend to attack him so fast? Was this thirst like a hunger? And what happens when you exercise or exert yourself? You use up energy. ‘Duh, Katsuki.’ Fighting and expending all that energy must have triggered the attack. ‘Wow, it burns fast.’ That meant Midoriya probably struggled to control this thirst, and that’s why he was pleading for him to leave him alone. But sorry, he couldn’t do that. ‘Fucker shouldn’t have run!’ One way or another he is getting his friend back home where he belonged. In fact, this only made his drive to find Midoriya stronger because he felt like he was partially to blame for the predicament his friend was in. The guy had to be scared, freaked out, and lonely. Bakugou’s heart clenched at the thought. He knew his friend was a social person by nature who loved being around friends and family. To be stuck out here all by himself and too frightened because of whatever this new quirk was had to be horrible… and utterly not fair. Of course, he did have a tendency to isolate himself when he feared…
Bakugou groaned. “Kami, not again with this shit!” When was Midoriya gonna learn to stop running away!
As his eyes relented to the fatigue and his mind slipped back into unconsciousness, Bakugou could only pray he’ll get a lead as soon as he got out of this hospital. This strange new quirk, if that’s really what it was, posed a serious danger not only to Midoriya, but the public. The reputation of pro hero’s had taken a major hit already because of AFO and the league, so if the public found out about a blood drinking hero attacking people… ‘I gotta get you out of here…’
After his encounter with Bakugou, Midoriya had rushed out of town as quickly as possible. Tears poured down his cheeks as he took off into the sky from having given in to the lust of this uncontrollable quirk. But he couldn’t stop it even if he’d wanted to. He’d learned the hard way right at the beginning that once it took hold of his mind, the only thing he could do was give-in or succumb to an even worse ravenous state that literally hurt. The pain of holding out on the hunger made him feel like a starved predatory animal that tore at his insides until he relented. In this state, the blood of any creature that came too close became a meal. But it was never enough. Animal blood didn’t satiate him in the same way that human blood did. Plus, he worried that if he let it get completely out of control, he might just end up killing someone. So far, he’d been lucky to leave them all unconscious but alive.
It was obvious that the light AFO had hit him with contained this strange quirk. How ironic, to take down a villain, only to be turned into one. That’s how Midoriya felt. How else could he feel? A hero wouldn’t hurt other people, so by taking the blood of others for sustenance, that made him a villain. Therefore, he couldn’t be a hero anymore. It must have been AFO’s plan all along once he’d realized he was losing. The villains end goal was to ruin hero society and this was definitely one way to do it. Take out his primary rival. The man poised to carry on a torch of safety and security, and snuff out any who chose to do harm… The whole situation with Bakugou really turned this into a nightmare out of body experience. To see his friend’s eyes suddenly show fear, then fade away the more he drank… his mouth clamped to the man’s neck… it was a horrible imagine that was sure to haunt him. He could still smell the burnt cinnamon from such a close encounter. If only he had clothes to change into or even a pond to bathe in, because that lingering scent was gonna drive him mad!
Midoriya curled up and clenched his eyes shut tight in an abandoned and overgrown castle he’d found outside of Ena. It didn’t look like it’s been maintained for a very long time, so the likelihood of a human showing up seemed low. He knew he should have travelled farther away, but he was too tired, too upset and just wanted to quit. All the years of growing up quirkless, to gain OFA and become the very thing he’d dreamt of, only for those dreams to be dashed again. It was as if life just didn’t want him to be a real hero. Maybe he should just put himself out of his misery, and yet— he couldn’t do it. To die out here alone where no one knew where he was or what had become of him, that wasn’t fair to his family and friends…
They must be so worried about him right now. His poor mother didn’t deserve any of this. Would his friends look down on him now? And All Might, his idol, who’d taken him under his wing, was he disappointed? And that just left Bakugou. He’d said the truth in answering the man’s question. No, Midoriya never would have expected him to come looking. Katsuki Bakugou giving a damn about him? Yeah, right. Bakugou wasn’t doing this because he cared. There was always a selfish reason behind his madness. Fear. Anger. Jealousy. Shouldn’t big bad Dynamight be thrilled that his biggest rival was gone?
Okay that was a big, fat white lie he’d been telling himself for the last two years. He knew Bakugou had moved past those pettier behaviors, but it was simply easier to believe and keep their relationship as rivals than to hope his childhood friend would ever see him as something else. And yet… ‘Kacchan was genuinely surprised by my answer. Did he really come looking for me because he cared that much?’ Yet in what way? Why was the man trying so hard? Did he… ‘miss me?’
Midoriya shook his head violently of those thoughts. No, no, he didn’t want to believe that because it would make this situation even more unbearable than it already was! He’d already given up everything he’d ever loved. His hopes and dreams, a future and losing an affection he’d craved for years would just simply be too much.
#bakudeku#bkdk#katsudeku#bakugou katsuki#midoriya izuku#bakudeku canon divergent au#blood quirk#vampire quirk#bakudeku au#bakudeku fan fic#bakudeku fan fiction#decchan#ktdk#ch 6#bloody passion#petri808
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I just realized I didn’t post that 2007 Rolling Stone article I posted about here.
Billie Joe Armstrong
The Green Day leader talks Bush, Britney and being a middle-aged punk for our 40th anniversary.
DAVID FRICKE
Posted Nov 01, 2007 8:19 AM
You have two young sons. What kind of America will they inherit?
This war has to finish before something new blossoms. There's no draft — that's why none of the kids give a shit. They'd rather watch videos on YouTube. It's hard to tell what's next — there is so much information out there with no power to it. Everything is in transition, including our government. Next year, it's someone else in the White House. There's no way to define anything. It's Generation Zero. But you gotta start at zero to get to something.
Is there anyone now running for president who gives you hope for the future?
Barack Obama, but it's a bit early to tell if this is the guy I like. I get sick of the religious-figure thing. People don't question their rulers, these political figures, just as they don't question their ministers and priests. They're not going to question George Bush, especially if he goes around talking about God — "I'm going to let God decide this for me. He's going to give me the answer." The fear of God keeps people silent.
When did you first vote in a presidential election?
In 1992. I was twenty. I voted for Clinton.
Did you feel like you made a difference?
Yeah. The Eighties sucked. There was so much bullshit that went along with that decade. I felt like Clinton was a fresh face with fresh ideas. There were times when he was dropping bombs, and I'm thinking, "What the fuck are you doing?" But he became a target. We have this puritanical vision of what a leader is supposed to be, and that's what makes us the biggest hypocrites in the world. We got so inside this guy's sexual habits. Now we have a president going around, killing in the name of what? In the name of nothing.
What did you accomplish with your 2004 anti-Bush album, "American Idiot"? He was re-elected anyway, and the war in Iraq is still going on.
I found a voice. There may have been people disenfranchised by it. People have a hard time with that kind of writing: "Why are you preaching to me?" It does sound preachy, a bit. I'm a musician, and I want to say positive things. If it's about self-indulgent depression or overthrowing the government, it's gotta come from my heart. And when you say "Fuck George W. Bush" in a packed arena in Texas, that's an accomplishment, because you're saying it to the unconverted.
Do you think selling nearly 6 million copies of that album might have an effect on the 2008 election? A kid who bought it at fifteen will be voting age next year.
I hope so. I made it to give people a reason to think for themselves. It was supposed to be a catalyst. Maybe that's one reason why it's difficult for me to write about politics now. A lot of things on that record are still relevant. It's like we have this monarchy in politics — the passing of the baton between the Clintons and the Bushes. That's frightening. What needs to happen is a complete change, a person coming from the outside with a new perspective on all the fucked-up problems we have.
How would you describe the state of pop culture?
People want blood. They want to see other people thrown to the lions. Do audiences want rock stars? I can't tell. You have information coming at you from so many areas — YouTube, the Internet, tabloids. Watching Britney Spears the other night [on the MTV Video Music Awards] was like watching a public execution. How could the people at MTV, the people around her, not know this girl was fucked up? People came in expecting a train wreck, and they got more than they bargained for.
She was a willing conspirator. She didn't say no.
She is a manufactured child. She has come up through this Disney perspective, thinking that all life is about is to be the most ridiculous star you could be. But it's also about what we look at as entertainment — watching somebody go through that.
How do you decide what your children can see on TV or the Internet? As a dad, even a punk-rock dad, that can make you conservative in your choices.
I want to protect them from garbage. It's not necessarily the sex and drugs. It's bad drugs and bad sex, the violence you see on television and in the news. I want to protect them from being desensitized. I want them to realize this is real life, not a video game.
The main thing I want them to have is a good education, because that's something I never had. Get smart. Educate yourself as much as you can, and get as much out of it, even if the teacher is an asshole.
Do you regret dropping out of high school?
Life in high school sucks. I bucked the system. I also got lucky. My wife has a degree in sociology, and there are conversations she has — I don't have a fucking clue what they're talking about. College — I could have learned from that.
But I was the last of six kids. At that point, my mother was fifty-eight, and she threw up her hands — "I'm through with this parenting thing." Also, I could not handle authority figures. But I wouldn't say I'm an authority figure for my kids. I provide guidelines, not rules.
What is it like being a middle-aged punk? Isn't that a contradiction in terms?
It's about the energy you bring with you, the pulse inside your head. I want to get older. I don't want to be twenty-one again. Screw that. My twenties were a difficult time — where my band was at, getting married, having a child. I remember walking out of a gig in Chicago, past these screaming kids. There were these punks, real ones, sitting outside our tour bus. One girl had a forty-ouncer, and she goes, "Billie Joe, come drink with us." I said, "I can't, I've got my family on the bus." She goes, "Well, fuck you then." I get on the bus, and my wife says, "Did that bitch just tell you to fuck off? I'm gonna kick her ass right now." I'm holding her back, while my child is naked, jumping on the couch: "Hi, Daddy!" That was my whole life right there — screaming kids, punks telling me to fuck off, my wife getting pissed, my naked son waiting to get into his pajamas.
There's nothing wrong with being twenty-one. It's the lessons you learn. At thirty, you think, "Why did I worry so much about this shit?" When I hit forty, I'll say the same thing: "Why did I worry about this shit in my thirties?"
What have you learned about yourself?
There is more to life than trying to find your way through self-destruction or throwing yourself into the fire all the time. Nihilism in punk rock can be a cliché. I need to give myself more room to breathe, to allow my thoughts to catch up with the rest of me.
Before Dookie, I wasn't married and I didn't have kids. I had a guitar, a bag of clothes and a four-track recorder. There are ways you don't want to change. You don't want to lose your spark. But I need silence more than I did before. I need to get away from the static and noise, whereas before, I thrived on it.
Are you ready for the end of the music business? The technology and its effect on sales have changed dramatically since Green Days' debut EP — on vinyl — in 1989.
Technology now and the way people put out records — everything comes at you so fast, you don't know what you're investigating. You can't identify with it — at least I can't. With American Idiot, we made a conscious effort to give people an experience they could remember for the rest of their lives. It wasn't just the content. It was the artwork, the three acts — the way you could read it all like someone's story.
Is music simply not important to young people now the way it was to you as a kid?
People get addicted to garbage they don't need. At shows, they gotta talk on their phones to their friend who's in the next aisle. I was watching this documentary on Jeff Tweedy of Wilco [Sunken Treasure]. He was playing acoustic, and he ends up screaming at the audience: "Your fucking conversation can wait. I'm up here singing a song — get involved." He wasn't being an asshole. He was like, "Leave your bullshit behind. Let's celebrate what's happening now."
We need music, and we need it good. I took it very seriously. There's a side of me where music will always send chills up my spine, make me cry, make me want to get up and do Pete Townshend windmills. In a lot of ways, I was in a minority when I was young. There are people who go, "Oh, that's a snappy tune." I listen to it and go, "That's the greatest fucking song ever. That is the song I want played at my funeral."
Now that you've brought it up, what song do you want played at your funeral?
It keeps changing. "Life on Mars?" by David Bowie. "In My Life," by the Beatles. "Love," by John Lennon.
Those are all reflective ballads, not punk.
I disagree. They are all honest in their reflection. The punk bands I liked were the ones who didn't fall into clichés — the Clash, the Ramones. The Ramones wrote beautiful love songs. They also invented punk rock. I'd have to add "Blitzkrieg Bop" to the list.
What is the future of punk rock? Will it still be a voice of rebellion in twenty years?
It's categorized in so many different ways. You've got the MySpace punks. But there is always the subculture of it — the rats in the walls, pounding the pavement and booking their own live shows. It comes down to the people who are willing to do something different from everybody else.
You are in a different, platinum-album world now. What makes you so sure that spirit survives?
I'm going on faith — because I was there. Gilman Street [the Berkeley, California, club where Green Day played early shows] is still around. And that's a hard task, because there is no bar — it's a nonprofit cooperative. It's like a commune — this feeling of bucking the system together, surviving and thriving on art. Punk, as an underground, pushes for the generation gap. As soon as you're twenty-five years old, there's a group of sixteen-year-olds coming to kick your ass. And you have to pass the torch on. It's a trip to have seen it happen so many times. It gives me goose bumps — punk is something that survives on its own.
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Fanfic Friday #7
Welcome to Fanfic Friday! Each Friday I will post a new fanfic here and on A03. Enjoy x
Read and save it on A03 here https://archiveofourown.org/works/32577124
{the anatomy of caring}
Ships: minor stevetony, focused on Tony & Peter
Warnings: none, it’s just fluff :)
Wc: 2355
It was obvious to anyone who knew the two well. It was Steve and Tony, Iron Man and the Captain. It simply made sense. If the logic wasn’t enough, the two looked at home with one and another. They slipped together like puzzle pieces. Tony always helped Steve through the confusion of a new world, and Steve always knew just how to help Tony deal with the anxiety of their reality. They were the perfect couple, and they both knew that.
Then, the spiderling came along. Tony saw a mirror image of himself in Spiderman. A young, ambitious boy who had the curse and gift of superhuman powers. He defied death each day he swung between buildings, and Tony couldn’t help but be enthralled. He couldn’t help but figure out who the kid was (It was pretty easy to figure out it was a kid, considering he only showed up outside of school hours). Steve, knowing his lover so well, knew instantly how protective Tony felt over the kid he’d merely stalked on the internet.
So when Tony explained the plan to show up at Peter’s with the “Stark Internship” it was no surprise to the captain. To the rest of the team, who’d all moved into the tower, it was a complete shock. The fact that Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, wanted to help this kid hone his powers and skills.
“You,” Bruce said, “Want to help this kid..what? Be a superhero?”
“Well, someone’s gotta,” Tony explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Someone has to?” Nat questioned.
“He can’t go around swinging off rooftops and beating up bad guys without any training. Or backup.”
“Correct me if I am wrong, but didn’t your idiot ass do that?” Sam questioned.
“I was not a kid. And I had money, friends, people,” Tony wildly gesticulated.
“I am beyond confused,” Nat laughed.
“Same train as Romanoff,” Clint agreed.
“Guys, this is not that hard. Come on. Let’s take this scenario. He ends up meeting some guys, and, instead of, say, winning, he loses. And either he dies, or gets badly injured. Who does he have? No one? He bleeds out. He’s a kid for fuck sake.”
“Cap’s been awfully quiet,” Clint pointed out.
“What? I knew this was coming days ago,” Steve explained with a smile, “I know my man. He wasn't just gonna let this kid get himself into trouble if he could do anything about it. Plus, Tony doesn’t keep tabs, he violently invades lives.”
Tony shot him a look.
“With love, invades with lots and lots of love,” he quickly fixes, flashing his million dollar smile at his boy.
Tony just rolled his eyes and focused on addressing the group, “Look, I know it’s a lot, but I think it’s just what I have to do. And I own the tower, so, my choice,” he said with a hint of banter in his voice. Tony headed towards the elevator.
“Where the hell are you going?” Sam asked.
“The spiderling’s.”
Tony left before he could hear any of the exasperated responses. It was a fair drive down to Queen’s where the boy lived. He parked outside the small building, and he then climbed the seven flights of stairs to the apartment. He knocked on the door and greeted, “Hello, I’m Tony, Tony Stark.”
He smiled his media smile, extending a hand towards May.
“I-I know. Mr. Stark, hello, w-what are you doing here?”
“Well, your nephew Peter applied for the Steptember Grant, and well, he got it,” Tony said, thrusting all the enthusiasm he could muster. He maintained his fabricated nonchalant, disregarding manner in most places.
“Wow this is, this is incredible! Peter will be home any minute now. Come in, come in. Can I get you a drink?”
He was back at the tower, recapping his meeting with Peter to Cap.
“-can you believe no one knows? Well, now it's knew. No one knew this kid was swinging around. And he got these powers with no one to help him through it, and god, it must have been awful. But, he’s good, Cap, he’s so good. He feels the need to help people, beyond just guilt. He’s, he’s-”
“Tones,” Steve said, kissing his cheek, “Take a deep breath.”
To be fair to the man, he hadn’t slept for at least 36 hours. With all that coffee in his system he had the right to be a bit uncomposed. The two were sitting at the breakfast bar, well Tony was sitting and Steve was behind it, cooking some eggs for the younger man.
“I’m just glad I found him before he killed himself trying to save the world.”
“Me too. How long has it been since you’ve slept?”
“J?”
“Sir, it has been 36 hours.“
“Tonyyyy,” Steve said, clearly disappointed.
“Steveeee.”
“I’m forcing you to bed.”
“I have work to do. Plus it’s only eight o’clock.”
“Eat then sleep, honey,” Steve said in that voice that you just didn’t ignore.
C2
At first the “Stark Internship” started as Tony upgrading Peter’s suit, monitoring his patrols, and teaching how to fight. Well, Natasha taught him how to fight. After she offered, Tony was in no place to deny. It was overwhelming to Peter. He was being taught about tech with Tony Stark and being taught how to fight from the black widow.
For the first couple weeks, he was a nervous wreck in the tower. He’d hardly speak to anyone and only do and touch what he was told to. He’d change, head straight to the gym, and then Natasha would train him. At first, the training was silent, other than Nat’s coaching. Then, slowly, the two began talking. It started with Nat asking how he first got his power, then it moved to her first missions, and then suddenly Nat knew a lot about Peter. And Peter was one of the few people in the world who knew a lot about Natasha.
“-so what, you fought alien robots sent by Thor’s brother?”
“Yeah, that's about right. I had to get up to one of the buildings, so, with Cap’s shield as my trampoline, I launched myself onto one of their flying machines. Pretty fun time up there.”
“Holy shit, that’s incredible. How’d you stop them?” Peter knew how the battle had gone down, afterall he’d been in New York during the attack, but it was something else hearing it from an actual Avenger.
“Well, it was quite complicated. The scientist-” Nat reminded him to keep his wrist straight. He made the fix, and went back to punching the bag. She launched back into the tale,”The scientist, remember him, who Loki’d controlled woke up mid battle. He’d installed a death switch for the portal, but to access it we needed the scepter. But, the thing is, the government basically sent a nuke toward New York in an effort to contain the aliens, so Tony grabbed the nuke and aimed from inside of the portal and threw it at their main spacecraft. This turned off all of the alien tech. He was a he-”
“Hey Kid, Nat. Please don’t tell me you're telling the New York story,” Tony said from the entrance.
“Hi Mr. Stark.”
Nat rolled her eyes, “I am telling the New York story. You were a he-”
“Don’t say it. You almost done?”
“I’ll call it. Good job today kid.”
“Thanks.”
Similar to the gym, he’d become far more comfortable around Tony and in his lab. At first he’d sit silently, doing his work. Then he got used to Tony’s eccentric tendencies, he memorized the layout and where everything was, and he’d also been unofficially given a workspace. It became easier and easier to feel comfortable. The late night coffee and deep chats were simply a bonus. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, it felt like he had a father figure. It was nice.
One day, Tony was vibin’ to ACDC and chatting with Steve whilst working on Mock 50 of his new suit design when Peter showed up. Steve being in the lab was something Peter had also become accustomed to.
“Jarvis, please get some good music on in here. Queen perhaps?” Peter requested. He did it to annoy Mr. Stark, and it did just that.
“Hey kid,” Cap said.
“Don’t “hey kid” him,” Mr. Stark said, faking anger, “Did you just insult my music? How dare you? I am revoking all Jarvis privileges.”
Peter laughed alongside Cap.
“Sir, you can’t do that. I quite like the kid, and the innovations he is creating require my attention.”
“Why did I program you to have a goddamn personality?” Tony said, focusing back to his work, “And Jarvis, put the quality music back now.”
“Anway, how was school?” Steve asked.
“Good, yeah. The same really. We had another one of your “fitness” videos for class today. Real good,” Peter joked.
“Oh god, please don’t tell me they really use those.”
“They really use those,” Peter smiled, “I’m going for a shower. See you in a flash.”
“Wrong superhero, kid,” Mr. Stark called.
“Idiot,” Peter heard Cap mutter into the top of Mr. Stark’s head.
Upon returning, he noticed the absence of the team leader.
“Where did Cap go?”
“Actual work or something stupid like that.”
Peter just smiled as he settled down at his workstation. He wanted to try out some new formulas for his web fluid. He’d had an idea in spanish class, and scribbled it down in his notebook. He fished for it in his backpack.
It was so easy. Too easy. And so so comfortable.
C3
“Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”
Peter had just finished sparring with Nat, and Tony, unusually, came up to the gym to “collect” him. He hadn’t done that for months. Mainly because Peter stopped coming straight down to Tony’s lab. Instead, he went to the kitchen and, mainly because Steve forced him, ate some food. He usually ended up in a random chat with Sam or Bucky. Occasionally he would catch Banner, and he’d end up in a different laboratory. He was always happy to learn about what the incredible doctor was up to. Sometimes, he was even able to provide a suggestion or two. Bruce always looked impressed by the boy. It made Peter smile.
Then he would actually make his way down to the lab, but not before trying to find Hawkeye. He'd wanted to learn some tricks with the bow and arrow. Somehow, Clint would be dragged into teaching Peter how to fire a bow once a week. At least. Clint pretended he minded through teasing and jokes, but realistically he loved hearing about the kid’s week. He’d always been good with kids. It became a running joke that Clint would let Peter know about all the tech upgrades he wanted, and then Peter’d report them to Tony. Most of the time Tony replied with something snarky like, “Tell the idiot he shouldn’t have picked a dumbass weapon like a bow and arrow,” or “do it yourself if you care that much.”
The Avengers Tower had become home just as much as his apartment in Queens was, and it was clear that Tony knew that. Hence the, “Come on, I’ve got something to show you.” He took the little Avenger to the elevator, hitting floor 80. He was a little confused given that floors 75-90 were all bedroom floors for the avengers or just spare bedrooms.
“Mr. Stark-”
“You’ll see, kid.”
In reality, Tony was nervous. He and Steve decided a while back that Peter deserved his own space in the tower, but he had been scared that Peter wouldn’t like it. That he picked the wrong colours, or mattress, or well, anything.
The doors opened and there were two doors facing one another. Tony opened one of them with a key he pulled out of his black suit. The door opened and he was met by a beautiful and modern room. It had a huge bed and tv. There was a desk equipped with the latest stark Holographic technology. In the corner was a suit, specifically a spider suit. That is when it clicked.
“Mr. Stark, is, is this all mine?”
“Yeah kid, sorry if you don’t like anything. Cap and I did the best we could knowing what you like. And ye-”
Peter cut him off with a hug, “thank you.”
“Anything for you, kid. Just say the word. Want a tour?”
Peter eagerly nodded.
“Alright so that’s the bed, obviously. No more sleeping in the guest rooms or that couch in the worksho-”
“You sleep ther-”
“Don’t say that I sleep there, I am no role model for sleep schedules.”
Peter just smiled.
“This is a little workshop area I mocked up. You can’t really tinker up here, but do all the designing you want,” he pulled up the most recent project Peter was working on, “Then, just through there is the bathroom, a little lounge area over there and yeah, that’s all. Oh, there’s two mini fridges by the lounge area.”
Just as Tony finished his explanation, Steve showed up.
“Tones, you showed it to him without me,” Cap complained.
“Sorry, babes, you took too long.” he turned around and placed a little kiss on his lips.
“It’s fine. How do you like it Pete?”
“It’s, it’s-” Peter couldn’t think of any words to describe how incredible it was to have a room at the Avengers Tower, but more importantly how incredible it was to have so many people looking out for him. Before he had just one, Aunt May. She is amazing, but he’d always longed for just a little more. Then, with the Avengers, he’d been given a lot more. They became his family. And now his home.
“Thank you,” was all Peter could muster before falling onto the floor.
The two of them, now in each other's arms, just looked down fondly at the boy.
“We did good,” Cap whispered.
“We did good,” Tony agreed.
They did good with more than just the room.
#avengers fanfic#basically peter being unofficially adopted by the avengers lol#irondad#peter parker#tony stark#stevetony#steve rogers#natasha romanoff#fanfiction#avengers#the avenger#found family
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Boneafide Gamer (A Reverse Harem Fic)
Chapter 1, Signing In
Quotev Link
Welp- Guess who’s joining the skeleton train?!
Note: When it's in your perspective, it's more than likely going to use the boys Usernames instead of their Nicknames since they legit just met so… here's a list of the usernames I've come up with-
Blue (Underswap Sans): Magnificent Blueberry
Stretch (Underswap Papyrus): Carrot
I'll add more as the boys are introduced. (Also for the horror bros I'm using ratsoh-writes nicknames.)
Finally, after a year of waiting, you have it! Basic MMORPG VR edition! You squeal before thanking the delivery person and closing the door.
You tear open the packaging as you enter the room, open the case and put the disc into your computer. You gently place the case onto the desk before setting up your V.R set. The game boots up as you put on the VR goggles and you begin the intro.
"Welcome to Basic MMORPG VR edition. A world that was heavily inspired by Sword Art Online, but our game is much better in so many ways! Would you like a list?" Snorting, you select yes.
"You do not have to fight any creatures in this game.
There are many skill sets to choose from like cooking, fishing, farming, bounty hunting and many many more!
A world that gets updated throughout the seasons.
Create, craft, or find many items the world or players around you provide.
You are not strictly assigned to a specific class, want to be a mage that wields a sword? You can BE a mage that wields a sword!
There are-" Holy crap, this list is long… you'd review it later, you wanted to get to the good stuff! Gameplay!
You enter the character customization screen and make your persona. Then came the most difficult part of making a character, giving it a name!
You tapped your foot as you thought of what to name them… do you want something funny? Something normal? Or something stupid? Man, this is hard…
You go for the grandest name of all "fart." You snicker as you accept the name, knowing you could change it whenever.
Hitting "confirm," you wait as the game loads on a public server. And when it loads in, there aren't a lot of people on… Wasn't there a lot of hype for this game?
You shrugged and went to the infamous Quest Master to receive your class, first weapon, and first quest.
After all was said and done, you were "fart," jack of all trades (because you couldn't choose just ONE of all these cool classes!) And off you went to the fields to complete your first quest, kill/befriend/collect 5 slimes.
Holding your multiweapon tight, (Again, you were VERY indecisive and basically created a multitool for weapons.) You venture into the fields to see a lot of slime and very few people.
Legit, there were only two people here. Skeletons, one named "Magnificent Blueberry" and the other named "Carrot." Very fitting considering their choice of armor/robes.
Intrigued, you decide to focus on your quest conveniently close to the skeletons, waiting for the chance to jump in their conversation and make friends! Haha! Genius!
While you slashed more than the acquired amount of slimes with your sword, the short skeleton was reading all the features this game held while the tall one was trying to figure out the controls.
"OH WOW! PAPY, DID YOU KNOW YOU COULD MAKE FRIENDS WITH THE CREATURES?!" Blueberry exclaimed using voice chat, turning to his struggling younger brother.
"Really? I think we both know who'd like that," Stretch says amused, Blueberry huffing before helping Stretch with the controls.
"INDEED! OKA WOULD LOVE TO MAKE A SLIME FARM! (THE TRIGGER IS TO ACTIVATE STUFF LIKE GRABBING AND DROPPING ITEMS) AND I THINK EDGE WOULD BE MORE THAT HAPPY TO HAVE A CAT 'ARMY,'" Blueberry exclaims, happy that there's so much to do in this game! (Even if it is a waste of time according to Edge.)
Stretch nods, finally getting used to the controls and thanking Blueberry, who enthusiastically welcomes him.
"What other features are there?" Stretch asks curiously, peering at the cybernetic screen on Blue's arm.
"OH LOT'S! THERE'S HUNDREDS OF FEATURES IN THIS!" Blue exclaims before scanning the list to look for one Stretch may like.
"Oh wow," Stretch comments amazed, he knew there was a lot but HUNDREDS?! It's every gamer's dream! (Red may enjoy that.)
"LIKE THIS ONE! IF YOU HOVER OVER A PLAYER, YOU CAN ADD THEM TO A PARTY! LET'S DO IT!" Stretch shrugs.
"Sure, why not?" With stars in his sockets, he hovers his disembodied hand over Stretch and adds him to a party which Stretch accepted the request for. Blue then renames the party to "THE AMAZING DUO!" Stretch raises a bone brow with an amused smile.
"Really?"
"REALLY! OH LOOK, A POTENTIAL FRIEND!" Blue exclaims, finally noticing you. However you were focused on the slimes.
"They've been there forever though," Stretch points out.
"WHA? PAPY, WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?!" Blue says sadly, Stretch shrugs again.
"They seemed busy," Blueberry looked at you again and you were still focused on the slimes.
"WELL, MAYBE THEY NEED A BREAK!" Blueberry exclaims before approaching you. Stretch sighs before hesitantly following his brother.
"GREETINGS FART!" He exclaims, causing you to burst out laughing.
"Ahaha! I knew that name was a great choice!" You say before turning to the smiling short skeleton.
"[Insert pun here] MWHEHE!" You hear a groan come from the taller skeleton that just arrived.
"Hehe! That was a good one! As you know, I'm Fart. And you're…?"
"I'M THE MAGNIFICENT BLUEBERRY, MWHEHE! BUT YOU MAY JUST CALL ME BLUEBERRY OR BLUE!" Blue exclaims.
"I'm Carrot," Stretch says afterwards, causing you to snicker.
"Those are great names! Say, what are your classes?"
"WARRIOR OF PEACE!"
"Mage, You?" You chuckle sheepishly at the question.
"I… chose all of them…" You admit, making Carrot snort.
"Couldn't settle for one huh?" Stretch asks amused, you cross your arms and huff.
"Hey! It's not my fault there's so many choices!" You exclaim.
"I THINK IT'S NEAT!" Blue chimes in making you smile.
"Thank you Blue. Hey, are you guys new to the game?" You ask and they both nod.
"Well, so am I! How about we explore together?" You suggest, Blue lit up like a Christmas tree.
"THAT'S A GREAT IDEA! LET'S GO NEW FRIEND FART!" Blue exclaims before leading the way, you and Carrot snicker and follow after.
So you spent the entire day exploring the HUGE town made for beginners and it's also a hangout/meetup area for experienced players. You got witty remarks from Carrot, puns and fun little facts and features from Sans as you explored. Before you all knew it, night had arrived and you had to log off.
"Oh shoot! It's 8 already?! I gotta go guys, thanks for exploring with me!" You announce making Blue jump.
"IT'S 8?!" Blue yelled before quickly logging off, leaving you with Carrot.
"He… doesn't play games a lot. He usually works hard," Carrot explains, you nod.
"Makes sense," You say before you go to log off.
"Wait a minute," Carrot says before you press the logout button.
"Could I get your discord? I have some… cousins that could use some social interaction from someone like you," You smile.
"Is this your way of telling me you want to hang out more?" You ask in a teasing tone, Carrot snorts.
"Yes and no," He answers simply with a smirk. You exchange discord usernames and codes (Cheesepuff ####) before saying your final goodbyes and logging off.
You take off the VR headset and wince from the lack of light and strain on your eyes. You shut off everything and begin your nightly routine. Once done, you scoop up your phone and check your messages on discord.
Cheesepuff: Yo, it's Carrot. I came to wish the jack of all trades goodnight. And to tell you Blueberry says he's sorry he left so suddenly.
You snicker before replying.
(Username): Thank you Carrot. Tell Blue I said it's okay. Goodnight to both of you!
You then go to message your friend hoping they weren't asleep already.
(Username): Dude! I made friends! :D
Totally not the writer: Oh? Do tell.
And so you do, telling them EVERYTHING!
Totally not the writer: Woah. I gotta get that game. And they sound nice but keep on your toes okay? Not everyone is who they seem.
(Username): Don't worry, I will! Good night you night owl. (You better go to sleep once you send YOUR good night.)
Totally not the writer: No promises. Night.
Sighing, you shut off your phone and head to sleep and dream of Slimes, Carrots and Blueberries.
Holy shit! That took a while to write. One pair of boys down, 4 to go… Will the other chapters be as long as this one? It honestly depends but let's hope not for both our sakes.
So we got ourselves a new series! Huzzah! I’ll try and post the chapters here with links to the next as the series goes on but I could also post it onto quotev or something if you guys prefer that.
Next Chapter
#oh god the TAAAAAAAGS#Underswap Papyrus#Underswap Sans#Underfell Papyrus#Underfell Sans#Swapfell Sans#Swapfell Papyrus#Horrortale Papyrus#Horrortale Sans#Undertale Sans#Undertale Papyrus#Sans#Papyrus#X Reader#Reverse Harem#AHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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How To Keep TV Real The Anthony Bourdain Way
How To Keep TV Real The Anthony Bourdain Way
Anthony Bourdain didn’t start out developing TV shows. But seven seasons later, his No Reservations is going strong and, together with production partners Zero Point Zero, he’s launched a second show, The Layover and is working on a range of new projects. Here, the author/chef/restaurateur/TV show creator and star and Zero Point Zero principals talk about keeping TV real.
BY ZACH DIONNE7 MINUTE READ
Seven seasons deep, Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations is doing something right. The show, which revolves around the brash chef/author/all-round personality indulging in transformative stints of eating, drinking, and traveling, airs on the Travel Channel and is a product of Bourdain and Zero Point Zero Productions, the same company that just helmed a successful first season of a Bourdain offshoot, The Layover. Co.Create sat down with Bourdain, Zero Point Zero executive producers Chris Collins and Lydia Tenaglia, and managing director Joe Caterini to dig into why Bourdain’s shows stay afloat in a sea of programming, how multi-hyphenate creative types are working to adapt to new content paradigms, and why comedian Louis C.K. should be emulated in all things.
Co.Create: You’re filming No Reservations’ eighth season. What’s the first trick to keeping the show fresh?
Tenaglia: We understood very early on that if you’re really going to get to know a location well, it’s got to be through the characters that live there. Many scenes live or die by a good sidekick.
Bourdain: Fixer selection is huge. Do they know the area as well as they say? Are they capable of doing all the logistical shit a fixer’s gotta do? But also, do they have a sense of humor? Are they fun? Do they drink? We’re not looking for the best of a place or everything you need to know about a place; we’re looking to have as close to a local experience as we can get, and have a good time and do something interesting that hasn’t been done before.
With Anthony’s writing background, are you doing much scripting ahead of time?
Bourdain: We don’t script. We never do any writing beforehand. The Queens of the Stone Age show, it was like, let’s go to the desert and see what Josh Homme wants to do. All we really know for sure is he’s going to provide music for the show and we’re gonna be in the desert. If you think you’ve already figured out what the show’s going to be about or what you expect out of the scene, that’s a lethal impulse.
Does it get tricky to stay away from a fixed template?
Tenaglia: Each year the show keeps evolving. Tony has an inimitable style and strong point of view that informs the creative, and we have an incredible creative team, very multi-platform, from animation to incredible graphics to unbelievable shooting and cinematography that informs the show. It truly evolves out of this process of intense collaboration, and then having these incredible creative tools to basically tell a story in any way, shape, or form.
Bourdain: Let’s face it, ordinarily this is a very restrictive format. The story is always the same: Guy goes somewhere, eats a bunch of stuff, and goes home, presumably having learned something. The core of whatever we do is to fuck with the format as much as we can. Let’s find a way to tell what is basically the same story, different setting, in as disturbing-to-the-network fashion as possible.
Why?
Bourdain: Because television, if it’s a success, if it works, they wanna replicate it. That’s the death of creativity. Then we’ve settled into a groove, then I become bored, the people I work with become bored…it’s a mortifying process. If this isn’t fun and interesting to us, there’s no point doing it.
Collins: We continually want to push further in the storytelling. We understand that with television you’ve got to work within certain parameters, but within those 42 minutes and 30 seconds, how can we play with this thing?
One way you did that was with an entirely different show, The Layover.
Bourdain: That’s an even more restrictive concept–this is a format that’s been done a million times. Everybody loves the damn thing, but it took me a few episodes to figure out how to do it. No Reservations is about me, me, me–they’re basically essays. The idea of going to major cities and doing a “useful” show really goes against the grain.
What are the driving principles behind Zero Point Zero as a content production company?
Caterini: The heart comes from a true vérité documentary filmmaking tradition.
Bourdain: You don’t want people saying, “Could you say that again?” We’d rather miss the scene than fuck up the scene you have. That dynamic is absolutely essential to why our show is different from all the other travel shows. The show looks slick, it’s beautifully photographed, beautifully edited, but you’re never going to get those transforming human moments out of a character reenacting them for you. You’re never going to get real generosity, any kind of chemistry or any kind of fun, for that matter, if you’re muscling and you keep hammering home the theme.
Caterini: Our primary goal is to be able to work on projects in the way we want to. We are looking to learn about digital technology and distribution and other ways of making content that don’t have to fit into the TV business formula. TV, being advertiser-driven, is all based on predictability and consistency. Predictability means you can’t take risks and consistency means it’s dreadfully boring. We’re fortunate we can bust those two barriers down, but it’s really hard to sell new TV shows when that’s your launch pitch.
Why does it work with No Reservations?
Caterini: The creative process is executed very well. We create situations that optimize that. We feel lucky we got greenlit and got on the air. Now we’ve proven that it works.
How do you take it forward?
Caterini: We had a big eye-opening moment when we launched into social media, and looking at it as simply another medium in content and storytelling; truthful storytelling in different size bites with a different arc of time. We’re connecting directly with who really matters, which is the audience, the people who want to enjoy what we’re creating. That really did open up the doors for us to think about ways to go straight to them. For a lot of content creators that’s extremely exciting, and the revolution really hasn’t even happened yet.
📷You must be familiar with how Louis C.K. sold his latest stand-up special directly to fans for $5 via PayPal.
Bourdain: A heroic pioneer. It was a huge, tectonic moment.
Tenaglia: What’s really fantastic about him, and I think it mirrors a lot of what we do here, is he’s the producer of the piece, the writer, the editor, behind the scenes, in front of the camera–he’s extremely multifaceted and nimble and flexible and self-contained. I think we have a lot of those same qualities. We don’t go out with big, bloated crews of 25 people. We can create something pretty extraordinary with a team of one or two.
What’s the key to getting content made, and seen, with these new paradigms?
Bourdain: People in the television business have a vested interested in keeping it as close to the way it was as possible. You don’t want to cut the ground out from under your own feet. We’re in a more luxurious position to adapt to the situation on the ground. I like making television. But I definitely have both eyes on what’s next.
Caterini: The creative people have to shift the content paradigm. We look at social media as a big medium in and of itself, and we’ve successfully developed and in fact exploded growth in an audience. So it’s working. Then unfortunately we have to say, “Is that a business or not?” But that has to come second. I think we’d ideally like someone to build the perfect platform for creators to work off of. There are bits of it. No one’s actually figured out how to turn it into money right for the creator, though. I think either the platform will come along or we’ll have to do some of the business a network does–market our own stuff, sell our own stuff.
Bourdain: A person with a television show generally lives or dies by the Nielsen numbers. I don’t really understand why anyone would care. I care how many people over time see and like the show and are interested in seeing more stuff. That’s the only number that counts.
What about your personality as a brand, Tony? How does it factor into all this?
Bourdain: I’m happy to use the word “brand,” but listen, I’m doing a lot of things: I’m doing a comic book, I’m writing for Treme, I’m making two television shows, publishing books. I do these things because they’re fun, and interesting, and because 12 years ago I had no opportunities to do anything. It bothers me when people say I’m “expanding the brand.” You expand the brand so you can land a Pepsi-Cola commercial. You haven’t seen me endorsing any products yet, though I am asked. I’m doing it ’cause it’s fun. What happens when things become not interesting? Then it’s a job. I had a job for years, I know what it’s like to show up every day and do the same thing the same way. I don’t know how Howie Mandel gets up in the morning. I don’t ever want to be that.
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Infinitesimal (part 57)
Author’s note: Happy Monday! Sorry for the delay on this. I was trying to decide which direction I wanted to take one of the scenes.
Warnings: arguing, fear, sleep deprivation, illness and injury mention, hospital mention, food mention, nsfw mention, crude humor, stalking mention, Remus, Logan is Stressed
Word count: 4300
Infinitesimal Masterpost!
Writing Masterpost!
...
“Are… you okay?” Virgil asked warily. Logan was acting very strangely.
For a moment, he wasn’t sure if the human had even heard. He just lay there on the floor, unmoving. Then, finally, he responded, his voice an indistinct mumble.
“Mmm. Tired.”
Virgil glanced at his companions. Emile and Patton both looked much more concerned than afraid at this point, although it was clear that they were far from relaxed.
He frowned, turning back as the human’s breathing deepened, and a quiet snore came from his direction. Had he actually just fallen asleep on the living room floor, in the middle of their conversation?
“Logan?” Emile asked hesitantly.
The human didn’t respond.
“Great,” Virgil muttered, eyeing him.
Patton sat up a bit, releasing one of Virgil’s hands to rub at his own shadowed eyes. “Is he okay?” he asked, his voice cracking.
“He’s just sleeping,” Virgil said.
“No… no, I know. I meant… Roman. Is Roman okay?”
“Logan said he’d be home in a day or two,” Emile said. “It sounds like he’ll be fine.”
Patton sniffled. “Just… Logan seemed….”
Virgil glanced at the human again, then gave Patton a reassuring look. Leave it to Patton to care about a human, of all things. “Let’s focus on you. We can’t do anything about Roman. Are you feeling better?”
Patton took a second, then hesitantly nodded. He took a shuddering breath and let it out. “It’s gone,” he said, glancing towards where Emile lay. Virgil realized he must have been talking about the box.
“It is. And I won’t let him, or anyone else, put it back. I swear.” The promise felt bitter on his tongue—he’d made it before, and hadn’t been able to keep it when it mattered. At least he’d gotten Patton out as fast as he could; and his friend was, at least physically, okay; but that didn’t change the fact that he never should have been put in the box in the first place
Patton, the sweet guy he was, didn’t bring up Virgil’s failure, and instead only nodded again. Maybe he just needed to believe that Virgil could protect him.
“Do you think you can sleep?” Virgil asked. Patton looked exhausted, between the stress of everything and his lack of rest the night before. “We can go back over to Em, and you can lie down.”
“…You?”
Virgil closed his eyes momentarily, sighing. “I don’t think I can sleep with Logan here, to be honest, even if I tried. I’ll sleep later, though, I promise.”
Patton nodded absently, and Virgil grabbed his crutch. He led his friend back to their bed at Emile’s side, and Patton lay down. Virgil waited for him to get comfortable, then went to grab some food from the supplies the humans had provided. Judging by the fact that Logan had just passed out on the floor, they probably weren’t getting lunch for a while; and they hadn’t had breakfast, either.
When he returned, he handed some of the dried fruit he’d grabbed to his brother, keeping the rest for himself. Patton was either already asleep or close to it, so Virgil decided to wait on giving him his share.
“Thanks,” Emile murmured.
Virgil gave him an acknowledging glance, then moved to sit on Patton’s other side.
Logan hadn’t moved.
Virgil sat back and took a bite of dried mango, his eyes on the still form on the floor.
…
Logan woke to the sound of knocking. He turned his head to the side, scrunching his eyes shut, then opened them, confused. Something was wrong. He wasn’t in his bed: the surface he lay on was far too hard. As if that wasn’t confusing enough, the ceiling above him lacked its usual star stickers. He wasn’t even in his bedroom.
“Am I on the floor?” he asked himself.
“Yes,” a voice informed him.
He looked up. Two small figures watched him from the table opposite him. Virgil and Emile.
“Are you going to get the door?” Virgil asked. “They’re going to wake up Patton.”
Logan blinked, then pushed himself up into a sitting position. He glanced at the clock, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He must have been out for nearly two hours, although he didn’t actually remember falling asleep. Clearly, he hadn’t made it to his bed. That fact, even as tired as he was, surprised him. Normally, he had a very difficult time sleeping anywhere other than his own bed. The fact that he had managed to do so in the middle of the floor was… telling.
He turned back to Virgil, and started to get to his feet. “Um… yes, of course I’ll get it.”
“Don’t let them in here,” Virgil said, as if that needed stating.
Logan simply nodded absently, straightened his clothes—he desperately needed to change into something other than pajamas—and walked to the door of the apartment. He smoothed down his hair, adjusted his glasses, and opened it.
His landlord, Joan, stood there, wearing an evergreen-colored beanie that almost but didn’t quite match their sweater. Their eyes flicked to Logan’s own atypical outfit before resting on his face.
“Hey, Logan. Merry Christmas,” they said, holding out a pair of candy canes with a slightly awkward smile. “I’m a day early, but I figured nobody would want to be bothered tomorrow. Plus, it’s never a bad time for candy canes.”
“Thanks,” Logan said, accepting the presents. Each candy cane had a curly green ribbon tied around it. They tickled where they brushed against his hand.
Joan shifted, watching as Logan briefly stepped away to set the candy on the counter. “Uh, while I’m here… I guess there’s not point pretending I’m not… well, curious isn’t exactly the right word. Worried, I guess. Can I ask what happened last night? I saw an ambulance, or something, I think; and I thought I saw you outside with them. Is everything okay?” They glanced around the kitchen, and Logan was silently glad that it was impossible to see into the living room from this angle.
Logan folded his arms, glancing down. He’d expected the question. “Roman had an asthma attack last night, and I had to call the paramedics. He’s in the hospital now. I came home to get some of his belongings for him. I’m sorry if the ambulance disturbed you.”
Joan looked shocked, their eyebrows nearly disappearing under their beanie. “Oh, f—my gosh; that’s terrible!”
Logan gestured around the kitchen. “They didn’t damage anything, I assure you.” He paused, then, remembering the box of polished rocks that Roman had knocked down, and the fact that he had slipped and fallen on some of them. “There might be some scratches on the floor of one of the bedrooms, but that’s it.”
“Logan—no, that’s not why I’m here. I don’t care if they punched a hole in the wall. Is Roman okay?”
Logan took a deep breath, steadying himself. “He should be. They got him stabilized. He’s going to spend the next day or two in the hospital, though, just to be safe.”
Joan grimaced. “That’s unfortunate.”
“Agreed. I’m sure he’d rather be home.”
“I’d hate to spend Christmas in the hospital. Please give him my best, will you?”
Logan glanced away. He didn’t care much about Christmas, personally; but he knew that Roman was fond of the holiday. “Of course.”
“At least it sounds like he’ll be okay. That’s good news. Is there anything I can do for you guys?”
Logan paused. “I don’t believe so.”
“Okay. Well, I’m here for you. If you think of anything, just let me know.”
“Thank you, Joan.”
Joan lingered for a moment, nodded to themself, and stepped back. “Have a good day,” they offered, smiling sympathetically before walking away, presumably to deliver more candy canes.
…
After Joan left, Logan wandered back towards the middle of the kitchen, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. He took a second to reset, let out a long sigh, and strode over to the cabinets. He put together a quick lunch for himself and the “mouse-men”—just toast with jam, nothing fancy—since they hadn’t gotten to eat earlier.
He carried the “mouse-men” their portions of the meal, and set the dishes down as quietly as he could. Still, Patton stirred, earning him an unhappy look from Virgil.
“Sorry,” Logan mouthed. It seemed he couldn’t do anything right.
Emile looked at him with what seemed to be a sympathetic expression, although it was entirely possible that he imagined it. Logan simply straightened back up and crept out of the room, hopefully without disturbing them any further.
Alone again, Logan took the chance to hop in the shower, get dressed, and brush his teeth. By the time he was ready to gather the supplies he’d promised Roman, he felt much more like himself.
Roman’s backpack was perfect for the job, after Logan had removed its usual contents and stacked them neatly on the desk. He put in Roman’s favorite blanket first, folded and rolled up at the bottom, followed by his wallet, which he zipped up in the front pouch. He grabbed one of his pillows next, which he left to the side of the backpack, and then moved to Roman’s dresser for his hairbrush, eye mask, toothbrush and toothpaste, and a pair of fluffy socks, among other items. He left Roman’s phone on the charger for the moment, but he snatched the earbuds that had been knocked to the floor.
Logan was still figuring out how best to fit everything in the backpack when he was interrupted by a knock at the door. He frowned, setting down the hairbrush he was holding. Had Joan returned for some reason?
He walked down the hall and into the kitchen, pausing by the doorway into the living room to offer a placating gesture to the “mouse-men”. Then, he strode to the door, straightened his glasses, and opened it.
The grinning young man who stood there was decidedly not Joan.
“Finally!” he said. “This’s gotta be like the tenth time I’ve stopped by! I was starting to think you’d never answer!”
The man at the door had familiar, curly dark hair, freckled brown skin, and rich brown eyes. He looked practically just like Roman, except with double-pierced ears, crooked front teeth, and the beginnings of a mustache and beard. He also had a patch of hair just above his forehead which grew white, in stark contrast to the rest of his nearly-black hair. Poliosis, Logan absently registered, or possibly vitiligo. Bleach didn’t seem likely, given the asymmetrical shape and precise edges.
Logan stared at the man for a second, processing, then said, “…You must be Remus.”
The young man—Remus—quirked an eyebrow teasingly. “Oh, you’ve heard of me?” His voice was also very similar to Roman’s; but it was slightly more nasal, a difference which Logan suspected was purposeful. He didn’t seem at all surprised to see Logan at the door, so he must have known that Roman had a roommate.
“I know of you,” Logan confirmed. He looked the visitor up and down. “Why are you here?”
“Can’t a guy come see his brother for Christmas?”
“Well… of course; but why come here, rather than see your parents? I thought…” Logan trailed off, unsure how much Roman would want him to say here. He really didn’t know much about the animosity in Roman’s family. Was it one-sided? How much did it involve Remus, if at all? Would Roman want his brother here? He didn’t know much about his roommate’s twin, other than the fact that he existed, of course. And that he had apparently decided to show up on their doorstep, unannounced, for Christmas.
“Ah, they suck,” Remus was saying. “I mean, Roman’s pretty lame, but he’s not like that.”
Logan was unsure how to respond to that, so he didn’t.
“Anyway, where is that dork?” He giggled, seemingly unable to contain himself. “You know, dork, like a whale—”
“He’s not here,” Logan interrupted, before Remus could finish that sentence.
Remus tilted his head comically far, like a dog listening. “Why not?”
“He’s… preoccupied,” Logan settled on.
Remus squinted, straightening up, and bobbed forward onto his tiptoes before settling back on his heels. “You’re lying,” he declared. “Is he here? Tell him the attractive brother is here!” He tried to look around Logan, without much success. “Rooooman! Stop making your roomie lie for you! That’s not nice! Come out, come out, come out!”
Logan sighed, adjusting his grip on the door. “Please lower your volume. Roman is not present to hear you, but you will disturb the neighbors.” And the “mouse-men”, but even stressed and sleep deprived, Logan knew better than to mention them.
Remus pouted; but he did stop shouting, which was appreciated.
“How did you even find this apartment?” Logan asked. “I was under the impression that Roman hadn’t shared its location with his family.”
Remus waggled his eyebrows, his slightly off-kilter grin returning. “You’d be surprised what a little internet stalking can turn up.”
Logan frowned. “…Ah.”
“What’s your name, by the way? Kinda unfair that you know mine and I don’t know yours.”
“It’s Logan.”
“Ooh, like a nerdy Wolverine.”
“…I suppose.”
“So, are you going to drag Roman out here for me, Nerdy Wolverine? I came all the way out here to see him!”
Logan hovered uncertainly, trying to decide what to do. “Remus… would you mind waiting here for a moment? I’d like to call your brother.”
“Can’t I wait inside?” he asked, pouting. “It’s boring out here, and I really have to pee. I promise I won’t break anything, no matter how fun it looks to smash.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know you, and I’d like to speak with Roman first.”
Remus sighed, tugging on one of his earlobes. “Fine, go ahead.”
Logan closed the door, locked it just in case (Remus seemed… rather odd), then went to Roman’s room, where his roommate’s phone sat on the nightstand. He typed in the passcode, which Roman had given him at the hospital, and dialed his own number.
It rang a few times.
“Hmm?” a sleepy, breathy voice answered. “Lo?”
“Hi, Roman. Sorry if I woke you. How are you feeling?”
“Better,” he responded. Logan heard him shift, and the beeping of the heart monitor in the background. “You… coming back… soon?”
“I’m glad you’re feeling better. I’ll be back in a little while, I’m just getting the stuff you asked for together. But Roman, I wanted to ask you…” He sighed. “Well, Remus is here.”
“…Remus?”
“Yes. He showed up at our apartment, looking for you. I’m not sure what to tell him.”
Roman was silent for a moment.
Logan tapped his fingers on his leg. “Also, I just wanted to check—he’s not… violent, is he? His behavior so far is somewhat concerning.”
“No,” Roman said quickly, clearing his throat. “No, he’s not… he’s just… weird, like that…. He doesn’t… have much… of a filter.”
That was reassuring, but Roman still hadn’t said what he actually wanted Logan to do about his brother’s presence.
“Should I ask him to leave?”
“Um… wh… why’s he there?”
“He said he wanted to see you for Christmas.”
“Why?”
“Because he is your brother, I would assume, and it’s common for families to want to get together to celebrate holidays such as this one. Do you have a preference for what I should tell him? I understand if you don’t wish to see him, and I will follow whatever your decision is.”
Roman coughed away from the phone, then returned. “Did he… did he say… why he’s… not….?” He trailed off
“Why he’s here, and not with your parents?” Logan suggested, not wanting Roman to overexert himself.
Roman made an affirmative noise.
“He, ah, he claimed that your parents quote, ‘suck’.” Logan glanced towards the open bedroom door. “In the interest of honesty I should tell you he also said that you were ‘lame’, but, quote, ‘not like that’. He did not explain what he meant by ‘like that’.”
Roman didn’t respond, although Logan could still hear his breathing. There was a quiet thump.
“Roman?” Logan asked, raising his voice slightly.
There was a shuffling noise. “Mm, sorry,” he mumbled.
“What would you like me to do about Remus?”
There was another long silence, and Logan was about to ask if Roman was still there, when he finally responded, “Later.”
“You’ll tell me your answer later, or you’ll see him later? I apologize, but I really do need an answer now; he’s waiting at the door as we speak.”
“See ’im.”
Logan looked down at the floor, where several members of Roman’s rock collection still lay scattered. “I’ll have to tell him about your asthma attack, in that case—is that alright? I’m unsure of any course of action to avoid that. Unless you want me to keep him away until you come home.”
“Mm… ’kay.”
“Okay. I’ll ask for his contact information so we can tell him when you’re ready to see him. I’m on my way with your things.”
“S’you,” Roman mumbled.
“I’ll be seeing you, too. Get some sleep.” Logan ended the call, slipped the phone in his pocket, put the charger in Roman’s backpack, and brought that and the pillow back to the kitchen.
He set the items on the counter, then reluctantly turned to the apartment door. He was sure an uncomfortable conversation waited just beyond it. Not wanting to put it off longer than necessary, Logan strode over to the door, unlocked it, and pulled it open.
Remus was sitting on the hallway floor, his legs spread out, on his phone. He looked up as the door opened.
“Specs, you came back for me!”
“I did.”
“So? What’s the scoop? Can I come see Mr. Too-Cool-to-Answer-the-Door?”
Logan sighed. There was no good way to have this conversation, he supposed. He might as well just get on with it. “Remus… there’s something you need to know.”
Remus’s manic grin slipped. “He doesn’t want to see me.”
“No, it’s not that,” Logan said. “It’s… well, Roman really isn’t here. He’s in the hospital.”
Remus’s eyes widened, and he got to his feet. “He’s what?”
“He had an asthma attack last night. He should be fine, but he’s in the hospital now, and he’ll stay there at least until tomorrow, possibly the day after.”
Remus’s mouth was agape.
“I didn’t mean to spring this on you—I didn’t have Roman’s permission to tell you before.”
Remus’s expression hardened. “I want to see him.”
“I’m afraid you won’t be able to until later—"
“No, no, no, no. I want to see him now. Take me to see him. He’s my brother; you don’t get to tell me I can’t see him!”
“Remus, he’s asleep right now. He didn’t get any rest last night, and he’s quite exhausted with everything going on. I doubt he’s up to having visitors.”
Remus glared for a moment, then deflated. “You’re going to see him,” he pointed out, folding his arms. His eyes flicked to the counter behind Logan, where Roman’s backpack sat.
“…I am,” he confirmed. “To drop off some things he requested, no more.”
Remus was tugging at some loose threads in his jacket sleeve, still clearly agitated.
“I told Roman I’d collect your contact information. That way I can text you when he’s ready to see you.”
Remus had already created a new hole in his jacket, although the jacket had quite a few others to match. “Fine,” he said. He tapped a few things on his phone and thrusted it at Logan, who fumbled to take it. The screen was cracked in several places, a few bits of glass missing from one side. The page to create a new contact was pulled up. Logan silently typed in his information and handed the phone back, then passed over Roman’s as well, for Remus to put in his own information.
“I’ve got Roman’s cell at the moment,” Logan informed him, as Remus turned it over to inspect the Aladdin phone case, “but I’ll text you from mine later.”
Remus frowned. “Why’ve you got his phone?”
“He has mine. Our departure from the apartment was rather… hurried, this morning, and his phone was left behind.”
“Hm.” Remus typed in his info. “Well, as long as somebody texts me. Or I’m coming back here and breaking the door down.”
Logan took the phone back. “I don’t doubt it.”
“…You did say he’s okay, right?”
Logan slipped the phone in his pocket. “Yes. They got him stabilized. They simply want to keep him overnight to monitor him. He’s on oxygen, and he’s in no state to be running any marathons, but he will be fine.”
Remus let out a long breath. “Good.”
“Has he had attacks like this before?” Logan asked. “That put him in the hospital?”
“Hmph. Well, there was one when we were like ten or eleven. His face turned purple.”
Logan’s eyes widened. “Wow… that’s… unideal.”
“I called him Grape for like two years after that,” Remus shared matter-of-factly. “He called me Stinkbug for revenge.”
“Oh.” Logan glanced at the time on Roman’s phone. “Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, but I really should be going. Roman will be expecting me.”
Remus shifted where he stood. “Sure, yeah, overstaying welcomes and stuff, but can I come in first? I still really, really have to pee, and I feel like my d*ck’s going to explode, or just pop off or something, and that would be tragic, really, because then what are my boyfriends and I supposed to do?”
Logan blinked, unimpressed.
“…Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“I really do have to pee though. Please? It’ll take like two minutes, tops. Pinkie promise.”
He offered his pinkie finger, which Logan didn’t take. He debated for a long moment, thinking of the “mouse-men”, then reluctantly gestured him in. “Fine, come with me. The bathroom’s this way.” He stepped back, allowing Remus into the apartment and hoping he wasn’t making a huge mistake.
Remus bounced in, glancing around. He whistled. “Ooh, nice digs!”
“The bathroom’s just this way.” Logan led him down the hall, more or less shuttling him along so that he didn’t get a chance to look too closely at anything—or rather, at one room in particular.
“Ooh, I get an escort? What are you hiding in here, a meth lab or something? A sex dungeon?” He squinted. “Or is it a mad scientist lair? You look like a mad scientist.”
Logan made an effort not to look towards the living room. “I simply don’t make a habit of letting near strangers wander about my apartment, whether or not they be related to my roommate. I don’t mean any offense.” He stopped outside the bathroom door and gestured for Remus to go inside.
Remus hopped in, turning around to grin at Logan. “Hope you hid the sex toys!”
Logan frowned as the door thudded shut in his face.
…
Logan slipped Roman’s backpack over his shoulders, and picked up the pillow. He was almost ready to leave, although there was one more thing he needed to do first.
Still carrying Roman’s things, Logan stepped into the living room. All three “mouse-men” were awake now, and they watched him as he approached. Patton leaned on Virgil’s shoulder, who sat beside his brother’s bed.
“So… who was that?” Virgil asked, his tone pointed. He was clearly angry but trying to hide it, although Logan doubted it was for his sake.
“Roman’s brother,” Logan said. “Remus.”
“Since when does he have a brother?”
“I’ve never met him before,” Logan explained. “It didn’t seem relevant to mention someone who I didn’t personally know or expect to meet.”
“So you just let someone you’ve never even met wander around in here, where they could have seen us? Even after last night?”
Logan winced. “I was with him the entire time. I wouldn’t have let him come in here.”
“What, were you going to body-slam him if he tried? Drag him out and hope he didn’t wonder what was in here you were so desperate to keep him from seeing?” He glanced at Patton as he finished, and let out a frustrated breath, forcing himself to relax.
Logan sighed, rubbing at his eyes.
“Virgil,” Emile murmured.
“What? You were just as scared as I was.”
“Maybe, but….” His next words were too quiet for Logan to make out. Logan just stood there as they whispered to each other, hugging Roman’s pillow to his chest and looking vaguely towards the window. Finally, Virgil shook his head, looking away, apparently persuaded to stop arguing for the moment.
Meanwhile, Patton yawned. “You—you brought a p-pillow this time,” he said hesitantly.
Logan blinked, and then realized that Patton was trying to make a joke. He forced a small smile to his lips as he turned back to the “mouse-man”. “I did,” he confirmed. The smile faded. “It’s for Roman; I’m just about to bring him some of his belongings, to hopefully make his stay in the hospital more comfortable.”
“Are you okay?” Patton asked.
Logan swallowed. “Yes, I’m quite alright. I apologize for earlier. That was….” He shook his head, looking down at the pillow in his arms. “I’m sorry if I made any of you uncomfortable. It was unintentional.”
A few seconds passed.
“Th… thank you for not letting them see us.”
Logan glanced up, surprised. It was Emile who had spoken, seeming nervous, but determined. “What?”
“The people last night, and… and Remus, was his name? Thank you for not letting them see us.”
“Of course. I know that you three have a vested interest in being secretive.”
“Still, I…” Emile glanced at Virgil, then back at Logan. “I know you didn’t have to do, um, any of this for us. So thank you.”
Logan could only nod.
“…Say hi to Roman for me?” Emile asked.
“Me too,” Patton murmured from where he sat against Virgil.
It was probably a testament to how tired and stressed he still felt, with the weight of everything going on, that Logan could have sworn he felt tears pricking at his eyes.
“I will.”
#sanders sides#thomas sanders#infinitesimal!sides#ts sides#ts logan#ts patton#ts virgil#ts emile#ts remus#cartoon therapy#logan sanders#patton sanders#virgil sanders#emile picani#remus sanders#g/t#gt#sanders sides g/t#giant/tiny#ts#ts fic#ts fanfic#infinitesimal fic#sanders sides fan fiction#fanfiction#if you don't like remus dw he won't be here too long
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Reddie + in the rain + a bet, please
Thanks for the prompt! Don’t know if this is what you imagined, but I hope you like it ! ♡ This is a little inspired by the movie ‘Remember Me’. Also, this got kinda long. Enjoy!
READ ON AO3
Warnings: smoking weed, mentions of sex, uhh shitty behavior
Richie’s week didn’t exactly get off to a good start.
When he’d woken up Monday morning to take a smoke before heading off to school, he’d never pictured his week going the way it had.
It started mildly, Richie forgetting to check the student pages to see that his 8am class had been cancelled and he’d gotten up early for nothing. Then he’d ended up stepping in dog shit on his way back home and at the exact same time, the weather gods had decided it was a good idea to provide the earth with some pouring rain. He’d been soaked within five seconds.
Nothing too bad, but just enough to make someone go “I’ve just had a really long hard day” before grabbing a beer from the fridge and settling down in the couch to watch Netflix for the rest of the night. He’d ended up messaging Beverly to meet him in the park to smoke weed, her reply a stream of heart-eyes and thumbs-ups.
The two had met, sitting down on their designated bench for the night, burning joints between their fingers. Both of them loved the park at night, especially their usual spot that was located on the other side of where the hobos slept.
But his bad Monday hadn’t ended there. In fact, it had only gotten started. Because that was when a stranger had stopped before them, a woman seeming to be around 50.
“You can’t smoke that”, she’d said. “It’s illegal.”
Richie and Beverly, high off their asses, hadn’t been able to stop their laughter, the woman frowning down at their disrespect. If Richie had been a little smarter, he’d have put the joint down, apologized and gone home. But no, instead his high brain had had to make it worse.
“I’m calling the police”, she’d muttered angrily before pulling out her phone.
Their laughter had stopped abruptly, both looking at each other desperately to figure out what they should do. Should they run? Try to convince the woman not to call the police?
Once again, had they been smarter, they’d have run. Instead though, dumb and disoriented as they’d been, they’d tried telling her not to call.
The woman had ended up not even having to call the police, because not even a second later, what appeared to be a cruising police car had driven by, stopping at the woman’s frantic gestures.
“Officers, I was just on my way home when I noticed these two…”
That was when they’d run for it, ending up with only making it worse.
If they’d just been a little smarter, they would have given themselves up paid a fine, but by running they’d bought one-way tickets into the cells for the night.
Richie’s dad had had to pay bail for the both of them (“I’m taking this out of your inheritance, Rich”), and Richie had never felt more like a disappointment in his life.
It was Wednesday when Beverly came crashing into the group room where he was quietly studying (playing games on his phone) in the library on campus. “She’s got a son.”
Richie didn’t look up from his phone, barely paying attention. “Who?”
“That woman who busted us.”
He stopped, looking up at her. She was smiling like she was insane. “Okay?”
“You should ask him out.”
Doing a double take, he almost dropped his phone. “What?”
“Ask him out. Fuck him. Dump him”, Beverly was ticking the points off with her fingers.
Having no idea where she was going with this, he leaned back in his chair with a frown. “And why should I do that?”
“Revenge”, she said simply as if it was obvious.
“How is that revenge?”
She sighed. “I saw him, okay? She was dropping him off at school, and this uptight bitch has a super neat son, all ironed shirts and fucking gelled hair. She’ll hate that a guy like you not only touched her perfect little angel, but you broke his heart too, it’ll destroy her.”
Beverly was actually crazy.
“What the fuck?”
“It’s perfect!” She threw up her hands.
“Why can’t you date him?” he raised his eyebrows.
“Uh, ‘cause I’m a lesbian?”
Richie scoffed. “Yeah, but maybe he’s not into guys either, thought about that?”
Pursing her lips, she scratched at her chin. “Huh.”
“He can be straight for all we know.”
“Rich”, she sighed in frustration.
“No.”
“He’s cute”, she sang, rocking back and forth on her heels. “What’s the harm in trying?”
“I’m not going out with some choir boy.”
“Rich, he’s like totally your type, he’s…” She stopped abruptly, suddenly hitting his arm with her hand. “Oh my god, there he is!” She nodded her head towards the hallway.
“Fuck, why’s he gotta actually be cute, too?” Richie whispered too himself, hating how Beverly was right. Despite the proper clothing and neatly done hair, the guy didn’t give off the innocent nerdy vibe Richie had pictured when Beverly first described him. Instead his doe-eyes were fierce and bright as he sat down in one of the quieter corners of the library, lips pursing as he took out his notebook.
“Right?” Beverly tapped his shoulder. “Now go get ‘em, tiger.”
“No, no, no, no”, Richie panicked as she started dragging him out of his chair. “Bev, stop it right now.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
If Beverly hadn’t planned this whole thing asking the guy out, Richie probably would have put his moves on the guy on his own. Richie really couldn’t stop staring at him, soft freckled cheeks and with a gaze so sharp it could cut glass; he looked like a real rule-breaker.
“I’ll give you 20 dollars if you kiss him before the week is over”, she muttered into his ear, a perfectly tweezed eyebrow rising as the challenge burned in her eyes.
“A bet?” he almost wanted to laugh. “Really?”
She shrugged. “Apparently revenge wasn’t good enough.”
He hesitated.
“Oh come on, Tozier, you’d get the best end of the deal: revenge, 20 dollars and a kiss from a cute guy.”
He hated to admit that she was right once again. Finally, he nodded his head, and before he even knew what was happening Beverly was pushing him harshly in front of the table where the cute guy was focusing on his schoolwork.
The guy didn’t even look up when Richie stepped up, clearing his throat.
He tried to look back at Beverly for help, but she was hiding behind Richie’s English book.
He cleared his throat again. “Uh, hi?”
“Can I help you?” the guy said monotonously, still not looking up from his book.
“Did you know that bending your neck like that is, like, super bad for you?” the words were out before Richie could stop them, “even giving blowjobs is better for your neck.”
Fuck, what the fuck was that? He wanted to jump out the window.
The guy finally looked up, stopping his scribbling in his book. Narrowing his eyes at Richie, he looked him over. “Excuse me?”
“Like”, Richie laughed nervously, “if you gave a blowjob to someone, it would hurt less on your neck than how you’re si-”
“No, yeah, I got that”, the guy interrupted, holding a hand up to stop Richie from finishing his sentence. “What I meant was, excuse me, but who are you?”
Richie took a bow, one hand on his stomach and one sticking out to his side. “Richie Tozier at your service.”
The guy sighed. “Okay, Richie Tozier, what is it you want?”
“Uh…” he choked up, tongue fumbling in his mouth for words.
“Cause it sounded like you were asking me for a blowjob”, the guy pressed his lips together, eyebrows rising.
Richie’s eyes widened. “No, no! I…”
“So you don’t want a blowjob?” and fucking hell, how the hell was Richie supposed to respond to that?
“Yes! Wait no! I mean you’re pretty cute, so I wouldn’t-, wait, fuck”, Richie stopped himself before he could embarrass himself even more. He took a deep breath, letting his shoulder sink in defeat. “I actually wanted to ask you out, but I say dumb shit when I get nervous. Sorry for bothering you.”
He started backing away, turning around with heat boiling in his cheeks. Never had he bombed so hard trying to pick someone up, but there was something about this guy that was extremely intimidating. Way too proper and good for someone like Richie. Richie, with his unwashed hair, chipped nail polish, broken glasses, crooked teeth and shoes with holes. He’d used those qualities to wow people before, girls finding the messiness somewhat charming.
There was really no chance that Richie could get a guy like that, and he wished he hadn’t let Beverly talk him into trying, embarrassment weighing heavily in the pit of his stomach.
“Okay, wait”, the guy’s voice tore into Richie’s thoughts, Richie turning around slowly.
“What?” he knew he sounded miserable.
The guy motioned him over with a finger, already starting to scribble something in the corner of his book. “I’m free tomorrow night.” He tore the corner off, reaching it out to Richie. “Here’s my number.” He was smiling now, eyes glinting. Oh boy was he out of Richie’s league.
Still, Richie took the note, looking at it with wide eyes before staring at the guy again. “I feel like you’re doing this out of pity.”
The guy laughed. “So what if I am? Are you going to take me out tomorrow or not?”
Nodding his head, Richie packed the note safely into his shirt pocket. “I am. You’re not gonna regret this.”
“I hope not”, the guy picked up his pencil again. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Hell yeah you will.” He started walking away before remembering something. “Hey, I never got your name?”
The guy looked up again. “Eddie.”
“Cute.” Richie winked before returning to a beaming Beverly, the two sharing a high five before leaving the library together.
Thursday night rolled around, and Richie was waiting outside the local pizza place, waiting for Eddie. He’d dressed as nice as he could: a button up that was actually one of his Hawaiian shirts only tucked inside his dark jeans instead of hanging loosely they normal. He’d washed his hair too.
“Hey”, a voice said to his right, and turning around, Richie’s gaze landed on Eddie, all dressed up in a silk shirt and dress pants. He was smiling at Richie.
“Hi.” Richie leaned down to give Eddie a quick kiss on the cheek in greeting, pushing his hands into his pockets.
The date went surprisingly well, Richie feeling much more relaxed after getting Eddie’s approval the day before, even if it was out of pity or not. He even forgot about the whole reason he’d had asked him out until Eddie mentioned his mom. Instantly, Richie’s chest felt like it was constricting, heart speeding up.
He hadn’t expected gaining genuine interest for the man in front of him, but Eddie was funny, smart and could actually keep up with Richie’s bullshit remarks, firing back just as easily as Richie fired out.
“I still live with my mom”, Eddie was dragging his finger over the top of his wine glass, going in circles as he talked. “She’s not very thrilled about the gay thing.”
Richie tried to swallow the lump in his throat with no success. “No?”
“She’s learning to live with it though”, Eddie stopped touching his wine glass, leaning his head in his hand as he looked at Richie with a smile. He laughed shortly. “Honestly I think she’d flip if she knew I was on a date with you right now.”
The lump only grew. “Oh?” he choked out, trying to seem casual. Normally he’d fire back with “that’s just ‘cause she’s jealous, Eds, she wants me all to herself”, but his heavy tongue couldn’t form the words.
“Yeah,” Eddie looked him over with shining eyes. “Smelling like cigarettes and all that, not exactly her favorite scent.”
At this point the lump was so big Richie could barely breathe.
When they were done eating and talking, the two decided to walk for a bit together, Richie offering to follow Eddie some of his way home, too scared of Eddie’s mom to offer to walk all the way.
Their hands were brushing with every step, Eddie looking up at Richie every once in a while. Richie could feel the guilt in his stomach building with each second, being around Eddie feeling like too much.
“I think I’ll turn around here”, he muttered in the end, smiling down at Eddie, hoping it didn’t look too forced.
“Okay”, Eddie was smiling. “I had a good time.”
“Me too”, Richie’s forced smile turned more genuine at that; he’d really meant it.
The two stood looking at each other for a moment, and just as Richie was about to say his goodbye, a drop of cold water hit the tip of his nose. Confused, he looked up to the sky, more rain soaking his face, and within seconds, it was pouring, Richie already blind from his glasses being fogged up with droplets.
“Well, see ya”, Richie muttered, desperate to get away so he could breathe. He started to turn away.
“You’re not gonna kiss me?”
Richie stopped, face snapping up to meet Eddie’s gaze, disappointment heavy on his beautiful features. “What?”
“All that and you’re not gonna kiss me?” Eddie’s brows were furrowed.
Richie was struggling to come up with a response, Beverly’s bet ringing in his ears.
“Do you want me to kiss you?” was the only thing he could think of to say.
“Do you want to kiss me?”
He remembered the horrible night in the cell, his dad’s disappointed stare when bailing him out, the lecture of responsibility he’d received during the car ride home. He remembered the smug look on Eddie’s mom’s face when the police put Beverly and him into the backseat of the police car, the money he now owed his dad, taken out of his own inheritance. He remembered Eddie’s words: “she’d flip if she knew I was on a date with you right now”, and Richie felt some sort of satisfaction at kissing that terrible woman’s precious little son.
So Richie stepped forward, leaning down and capturing Eddie’s lips in a kiss, immediately kissing desperately and passionately with his tongue already licking into Eddie’s mouth. Their spit mixed in with the rain, their lips sliding together easily.
‘She’d flip. She’d flip.’
Oh she’d flip, alright. Eddie hummed, hands flying up to tug at Richie’s dripping hair, tongue quick to respond and meeting Richie’s just as desperately.
‘Not very thrilled about the gay thing.’
Too bad, he thought to himself. Your son is being gay with me right now, what are you gonna do about it?
They broke apart, Richie smiling down at Eddie.
“Wow”, Eddie breathed out. “Uh, will I get to see you again?”
‘Ask him out. Fuck him. Dump him’. Beverly’s voice rang in his ears. ‘She’ll hate that a guy like you not only touched her perfect little angel, but you broke his heart too, it’ll destroy her.’
Richie felt victorious, already pulling out his phone to text Beverly to send over the 20 bucks. “Absolutely.”
Tag list: @annoyingtozier, @spastuetheobsessedphylosopher, @constantreaderfool, @violetreddie, @rainbow-reddie, @tinyarmedtrex, @thundercatseddie, @deadlighten, @jesuschristsupruvestar, @queen-sock, @appojoos, @xandertheundead, @lifesucksheres20bucks, @that-weird-girls-blog, @atownofeggs
Let me know if you want to be added!
#reddie#reddie fic#reddie fanfic#eddie kaspbrak#richie tozier#lynn writes#my writing#it#it fanfic#it fic#it can't all be fluff#;)#ask#anonymous
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Renewed Hope A FFXV Fanfic ft: Promnis
Fic link in the comments if you want to read on ao3 instead.
It all happened in an instant, the daemon he was fighting simply dissolved into a cloud of black miasma. Prompto knew what that meant; Noct had done what he’d promised. He’d saved the Eos from eternal darkness. The other indication that things had shifted was his gun he couldn’t dismiss into the armiger anymore.
However, at that exact moment, Prompto didn’t know for certain whether or not Noct had survived his battle against Ardyn. Their plan to stick together until the end hadn’t worked out. Ardyn had easily separated them and left Gladio, Ignis, and him to fight a daemon army alone. The onslaught had been so great that Prompto had lost track of his friends.
In a panic, he began to run around looking for signs of life. He knew where they’d all head to, they’d check on Noct first. Ignis had figured out how Noct could beat Ardyn without having to die in the process, but that didn’t mean it had played out that way.
It was in his frantic run up the battered steps to the citadel that he spotted Gladio limping towards him. “Do you think he made it?” Prompto asked with worry.
“Dunno blondie, we gotta get there first to check. Where’s Iggy?” he huffed in obvious discomfort.
Prompto scanned the area but saw no sign of the advisor. The urge to look for him was overwhelming but he also needed to see Noct. Forcing the thoughts away that suggested death and loss he forged ahead. Gladio refused aid when they were near enough; he practically shoved him away and up the steps.
“Don’t wait for me, we need to find Noct and Iggy.”
“On it!” Prompto replied as he sprinted up the stairs. Gladio’s grunts of pain sounded out behind him as he ran towards the throne room. That was the last place they’d seen them. Noct and Ardyn.
Ripping open the door Prompto’s breath caught in his throat. There in the middle of the room was Noct, lying on the floor. Yelling out loud in a gut reaction Prompto raced forward and fell to his knees next to his friend. Unsure of what to do he gently placed his hands on Noct’s shoulders and gave them a squeeze. The prince, no, their king groaned and scrunched his face up in discomfort.
Letting out an undignified squeal at the sight Prompto couldn’t help but smile and promptly start crying. They’d done it, Noct was alive and Ardyn was gone. Noct seemed to finally have enough energy to open his eyes to take in his friend losing it.
“Prom, I’m alright,” he said weakly.
“Prompto! What – thank the gods,” Gladio exclaimed as he steadied his body against the door frame. “Don’t scare me like that!” he hollered.
Noct didn’t attempt to get up but managed to roll his head to the side. “Gladio, you made it. Where’s Ignis? Is he alright?”
Prompto was about to comment that they still hadn’t found the advisor when a scraping noise nearby caused him to look up. There in another doorway stood Ignis, he was hunched over holding his side. The sheer relief at seeing him alive made Prompto shout loudly, again. His emotions were threatening to overtake him. Everything was happening too fast but not fast enough.
Gladio was still working to get over to them when Ignis appeared. The shield's excitement at seeing him was just as animated. He tried to hobble over to help Ignis but ended up falling over halfway there. What a sorry looking lot they all were, beat and battered from battle. “Can you make it alright?” Gladio asked as he panted heavily from where he’d crumpled on the floor.
Ignis didn’t answer verbally but continued to shuffle slowly towards them. He seemed to be afraid until he spotted Noct looking up at him. Their small moment of relief lasted a few brief seconds, but it was enough to set Ignis at ease. Prompto watched as Ignis’ shoulders sagged, he’d been unsure of the outcome, just like them.
He didn’t say anything as he carefully walked closer, his eyes still locked with Noct’s. “It’s done, you did it,” he breathed reverently.
“We did it,” Noct corrected from his position sprawled across the broken marble floor.
A small bubble of laughter spilled from Ignis’ lips right before he began to fall sideways. Without pause Prompto shot up and caught the man, guiding him down slowly so he wouldn’t hit the floor. Looking quickly to see if Ignis was hiding any severe injuries Prompto could only see surface bumps and bruises. “Iggy, don’t die or anything, what’s wrong?” Prompto asked in a rush.
“Got in a fight,” was all he offered with a small smirk.
“Look! Oh my gods, look!” Gladio blurted suddenly.
Glancing up, Prompto noted what Gladio was getting so excited about. There was sunlight, real honest to astrals sunlight beginning to pour in through the windows of the throne room.
“No one can call me lazy ever again,” Noct sighed with a smile.
“I wouldn’t dream of it princess,” Gladio said happily.
“Iggy, can you see it?” Prompto checked as he tried to hoist the advisor upright a little more.
Ignis blinked a few times, his green eyes catching the first rays of light and making his eyes water. “it’s lovely,” he uttered softly. Then without any warning, Ignis grabbed him by the neck and pulled him down into a kiss.
Unable to process what exactly was happening Prompto sat frozen in place. Ignis pulled away just as quickly and smiled up at him. “Wha – what?” However, Prompto didn’t get an answer as Ignis promptly passed out in his arms.
“Guys, guys! What just happened!? Ignis kissed me and now he’s unconscious--- help,” Prompto whined.
“Huh? What are you talking about? Specs kissed you? Like he’s happy we’re alive and thanks for helping kinda smooch or different?” Noct asked quickly, his penchant for distracted rambling coming to the surface despite their serious setting.
“It was on the lips,” Prompto offered still in shock at the turn of events.
“Wait, you mean he just kissed you?” Gladio checked as he dragged himself closer. “He’s breathing okay, right? You’re freaking me out again Prompto.”
“Yes and yes, you both missed it, but he grabbed me and kissed me, on the lips.”
“Huh, I guess he wasn’t kidding.”
“Kidding about what, explain!” Prompto ordered though it was hard to focus on everything that had just happened. They’d survived Ardyn, Noct was alive, and the sun was shining for the first time in ten years. Prompto was slightly overwhelmed.
--
Prompto couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the window. He’d been sitting and staring out at the sun-drenched landscape all day. A makeshift hospital had been set up in one of the less damaged areas of the citadel. This meant his current view overlooked what used to be gardens. The area was torn up from 10 years of war and darkness, but that didn’t change the fact that it was being blessed by light again.
Things that used to glitter in the sun were allowed to regain their life once more. Turning away for a moment Prompto peered across the room to check on his friends. Of all of them, he’d been lucky enough to escape serious injury. Gladio had a few busted ribs and a sprained ankle. Ignis appeared to have a bruised rib along with a bump to the back of his head. Noct was alive and simply beat making him a total pile of mush.
The three of them were resting peacefully; even in the tiny crownsguard issued cots they’d been provided. The arsenal of old and new recruits that had stormed the place after the final battle had been startling. Cor had led the small crew and was taking charge of organizing their next moves. Everyone was tired, but Prompto figured Noct deserved a break. He’d beat a cranky two-thousand-year-old immortal relative. That act alone should merit some downtime.
The four of them had been ushered into the space as soon as it had been cleared and readied. Cor seemed to understand that they needed some alone time. This was how Prompto found himself sitting on a cot staring out the window and pondering the future.
The only noise to be heard in the small room was Gladio and Noct snoring, a true sign of their utter exhaustion. They were safe and that’s all that mattered at the moment. Though, when Prompto had decided that he wanted to sit on the cot nearest to Ignis no one challenged him. Now that the frenzy was over Prompto had time to think. He could go back and analyze the way Ignis interacted with him. The advisor had always been kind but maybe there had been something more, and Prompto had missed it somehow. Glancing over at to the man in question, Prompto was happy to see he was resting comfortably. Covered in blankets up to his chin, Prompto watched the steady rise and fall of his chest as Ignis slept.
Was there any possibility that the kiss had been purely friendly in nature? They had just finished saving the world so maybe Ignis had been really, really happy about it. Or without his glasses, he thought Prompto was Noct. Shaking his head at the thought Prompto debated about what to do when Ignis woke up again. He might not even remember the incident, though Gladio had indicated it wasn’t as spontaneous as Prompto thought.
Ignis had told Gladio one night years ago that if he ever saw the sun again he’d act on his feelings. Whatever those feelings might have been no one knew except the man sleeping in the cot next to him. Unfortunately, Ignis hadn’t told Gladio anything more after that. Prompto would have to figure out the real meaning behind the kiss on his own.
Thankfully, he didn’t have to ruminate for much longer, when Ignis let out a long breath and moved slightly. Hopping off his cot, Prompto dropped down on his knees next to Ignis. “Hey, how you are feeling?” he asked quickly hoping to dispel any lingering fears as Ignis woke.
The first sound that tumbled past the advisor's lips didn’t sound like words, but he did manage to open his eyes. “Mhnnn, m’not dreaming am I?”
“No! It’s really over, we won.”
“Good, I don’t think I can get up, I need to sleep for another week,” Ignis sighed.
Laughing at how uncharacteristic the comment was Prompto couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, I think Noct is gonna win that game.”
Ignis turned to look around and huffed out a small breath. “He’s always been excellent at taking naps. He’s not injured is he?” he checked quickly, the thought seeming to have just come to mind.
“Not that we can tell, he was grumbling about being sore, but he’s alright otherwise.”
“Good, and Gladio?”
“Same, he’s a little more beat up than the rest of us but he’s fine too.”
“And you? You seem in good spirits.”
“I’m fine, still sorta shell shocked that this is all real. I’ve been staring out the window looking at the sunlight, gods Iggy we did it!”
“That we did,” Ignis smiled and held his gaze. Vibrant green eyes roamed his face but never looked away. “I hope you didn’t mind my display earlier.”
Perking up at the subject Prompto shuffled a little closer. “You mean when you kissed me?”
“Yes, that. I’d promised myself a little something self-indulgent if we ever managed to see the sun again. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I simply couldn’t deny myself any longer.”
“I wasn’t uncomfortable, um – just surprised,” Prompto offered quietly. “I didn’t know you liked me that way.”
Ignis laughed softly and worked his arm out from under the covers. “I’ve liked you that way for a few years,” he said while reaching out his arm to grab a fist full of Prompto’s shirt. “I assumed I’d be forgiven given the circumstances. If you weren’t interested, that is.”
“Uh – but I don’t want to forgive you.”
“Oh, for what reason exactly?” Ignis asked puzzled.
Prompto was sure the grip on his shirt had gotten incrementally tighter. Ignis was still looking at him, though he appeared to be nervous if his slightly furrowed brow was anything to go on. Taking a deep breath Prompto said what he felt was right. “I don’t think people have to forgive someone if they aren’t upset.”
Unable to brace himself, Prompto fell on the cot when Ignis pulled him forward. Their noses were only a few inches apart now and Prompto could see every beauty mark on Ignis’ face in stunning detail.
The advisor swallowed hard and took a steadying breath, “Might I be correct in assuming I’ll be given another free pass should I act so brazenly in the future?”
Prompto could only nod his head and wait. This was all so new, but he would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t like the idea. Ignis had been one of his best friends for over a decade. The chance to explore something more with him was exciting.
Without realizing it, the gap between them had shrunk. Ignis had maintained his grip and didn’t appear to be letting go anytime soon. Deciding to just go for it, Prompto leaned in the rest of the way. The kiss was soft and delicate. Nothing at all like Prompto was expecting. The brief taste he’d had earlier was nothing like this.
The moment Ignis released his hold; Prompto surged up and held Ignis’ face in between his hands. The advisor's arms were twined around his waist and pulling him close. Not wanting to crush the man Prompto had to break apart to brace himself on the cot. “Careful there,” he rasped, “I don’t want to crush you.”
“I’m sturdier than I look,” was the husky reply he received.
“I know you are, but maybe you should rest some more?”
“Only if you join me, I simply can’t let you slip away, not after,” Ignis paused and licked his lips, “not after that.”
Prompto didn’t have to be asked twice, grinning like an idiot he quickly shucked off his shoes and gingerly crawled under the covers. “Tell me if I hurt you at all, kay?”
“You could never hurt me.”
“I’m serious!” Prompto huffed as he worked to situate his legs comfortably.
“You’re doing splendid, don’t worry about it.”
Snorting at Ignis’ attitude, Prompto finally came to rest with his arm across the advisors’ waist. His injury was further up and Prompto was being extra careful not to jostle the man. “I still can’t believe this is happening.”
“What, the light coming back, Noct surviving, or us kissing?”
“Oh em gee, all of it!” Prompto yelped but not loud enough to wake the others.
“It appears the dawn has brought with it renewed hope,” Ignis uttered right before his eyes slipped shut.
Prompto knew he had to be tired, he’d only been able to rest for a few hours. Ignis most likely needed a few days to sleep and recoup his energy. Smiling at the idea that they would get to repeat their previous activities, Prompto snuggled closer and allowed his body to shut down. They had more to talk about and more to do but it could wait. Life was going to get better, it already was better.
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Love How You Hate Me - Sam x Reader
A/N: Part Twelve is finally here. I kept it longer, to kind of make up for the gap. It seems life doesn’t quite know when to settle down. So, I won’t make any undue promises. Instead, I’ll just offer this for today. Here we go... As always, feedback is incredible. If you want tagged, please send an ask or message so I am sure to see it. Same goes if I missed your tag. And, I hope you all enjoy <3
PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Uncomfortable family dinner. Feelings. Talk of murder/attacks. Usual show violence. Smut. Outside sex. Minor blindfolding and ice play. Not enough editing. That’s all, I believe.
Word Count: Roughly 6,100
“So,” You played with the food on your plate as Sam spoke up to break the silence, “anything exciting happen since we left?”
You were with the boys in South Dakota. Sioux Falls to be exact. Sitting at Jody Mill's table next to Alex while Claire sat at the end, by Dean. Jody to your left.
Alex was graduating, and Jody had invited the boys out. You were simply a tag along to aid in your restlessness. And there wasn't a chance you were giving up the opportunity to finally meet the infamous Mills.
“Alex has another boyfriend.” The blonde spoke up, grinning mischievously. Knowing exactly the response it would garner. “Not a vampire this time.” Clarifying statements helped, but not enough.
“Oh, you do?” You bit back a grin as Dean's inner father escaped. He'd never admit it, but it was there. He cared about this family. Sam's brow rose, too. Equally alert. You felt for the poor girl. The boy could expect a visit if their expressions said anything.
“Shut up,” Alex shot Claire a dirty look. Sibling rivalry in full form. It was like looking at smaller, feminine versions of the brothers.
“Girls,” Jody's mom voice made you smile wistfully. You'd wanted to hear that dry, worn tone from a parental figure for as long as you could remember. Even if it wasn't directed at you, it warmed your soul. “Yes, she does.” She didn't sound pleased about the situation, but there wasn't any obvious animosity.
“He's a good guy.” Alex sighed out. Trying to smooth the waters. No doubt hoping this one wouldn't be beheaded, too.
“Uh oh.” Sam sipped on his drink, looking unimpressed as Dean settled back into his chair to lift his brows further. “One of those, huh?”
“One of what?” She definitely sounded defensive. With her family, she had every right.
“A Winchester type.” You clarified, making both brothers look at you as if you were a traitor. But, the shoe fit. “Good guys in a lot of ways, but come with a lot of trouble attached to them.” That was the understatement of the year.
Sam's lips hardened before a boot connected to your shin firmly. You barely held back the curse that wanted to slip out. He hadn't gone full force by any means, but it was enough to make you scowl his way all the same.
“Actually,” Jody spoke up, seeming kind of happy about your presence. “These guys were useless-”
“Jody... no.” Sam looked pained all of a sudden. Physically pained. His eyes averted to the table. Refusing to make eye contact with anyone. As if that would stop it.
“Oh, here we go.” Dean blew out a long puff of air, as if he had been hit in the gut. Reaching for his glass of wine. Draining it in one swoop. Both girls just looked resigned. Unable to escape from the table.
“Oh, now I'm intrigued.” You picked up your own glass. Taking a sip before immersing yourself into the family talk. “Hit me.”
“Birth control.” Jody left it at those two words. Nothing else was needed. However, the look in her eyes spoke volumes.
“Super important.” You nodded easily. Jumping into the fray without fear. “Literally, it's my lifeline. Kids aren't in the plan, right now.”
“See? I'm not crazy.” Jody pointedly looked at the young girls while ignoring the men at the table. Sam couldn't shovel food into his mouth any faster. It wasn't humanly possible. Dean was making good work of his wine for the second time. It was absolutely pathetic. Jody wasn't kidding when she used the word 'useless'. “And not just the pill, right?”
“Never just the pill. It's great for regulating periods, but this... this is your fall back guy.” You reached into your pocket. A foil pocket landed on the table. Almost as if you two had planned it. “And if that bad boy breaks, the morning after pill is a girl's best friend.”
A brief look of horror lined Sam's face before he pinched his eyes shut. Dean scowled deeply down at his plate. Refusing to make contact with anyone else.
“Thank you!” The mom's eyes were widened, as if she were crazed with relief. Sam peeked back open to inspect the damage. “Someone who will back me!”
“Guys should have them with them, too. But, not always the case.” Your eyes locked with Sam's for a second before you shrugged. “Been there a few times. Gotta pack it up.”
If it was possible, the boys settled further into their funk.Sam looking away, tongue in cheek, Dean glancing around the room. Jaw working all the while..
As the conversation shifted, another kick landed on your shin in response to your cheap jab. It took all your strength to keep your face straight and not return the favor. Instead, you slipped off your shoe. Planning to fight dirty.
Your foot trailed up his leg lightly, making him freeze. Tickling him with the light touch of your toes. A shuttering breath escaped his lips as the hazel gaze landed on you. The table was narrow enough that you could just reach enough of him to draw his attention.
You continued to talk, acting as if you weren't teasing the younger Winchester underneath the table. His muscles were tightly coiled as he avoided the conversation. His eyes holding all kinds of promises whenever they met yours. You two hadn't been alone since he'd infiltrated your room after the party.
Only, you weren't giving him the chance to make up for it in a home filled with people. As soon as dinner was over, you slipped away. Two blankets, more wine in a bucket of ice, snacks and more packed away. A note left behind.
Having lived in the state before, you knew the ins and outs of the climate South Dakota held. Your favorite thing? Those rare moments when Aurora Borealis peeked through the clouded nights. It had been a reprieve from your life back in the day. By some miracle, it was due to appear in the skies when you'd gone back. You weren't going to miss a minute of it if you could help it.
There was a small clearing in the woods near Jody's you had discovered that had a perfect view towards the north. Ensuring if it didn't cloud up, again, they would be vibrant against the black silk of night. It'd be your bed for the time.
You covered the ground with pine needles you'd swept together, creating a soft cushion against the chilled ground. The needles were covered with the one blanket to provide a barrier before you unbunched the second for warmth. A habit you'd picked up during cold, late night hunts in the woods before. Your jacket was used as a pillow. Waiting patiently, you eyed the sky. Finding as many constellations as you could to kill the time.
–
“I hope ya realize how gross it is to hear my best friend talk about packin' it up...so she can screw my brother,” Dean grumbled, handling dishes with Sam for Jody. Still snarling.
The minute you'd pulled out the condom and looked at Sam, he'd known. He'd found you out 'cause of that slip, after all. You hadn't been nearly as smooth as you'd thought.
“Oh, here we go.” Sam sighed out, having predicted this coming the minute you'd donned that foil packet. This wasn't the first discussion. Likely not the last, either. “Drop it, Dean.” Soap splashed from his hand as Sam practically tossed his brother the plate to dry.
“You want me to drop it?” Dean's voice dropped into a deadly low. Scrubbing harshly with the towel. The action being the only thing keeping the oldest from strangling the youngest. “I'll drop it when you stop sleeping with my best friend.”
It had taken a long talk, and every piece of Sam's persuasion skills to keep everything under wraps. Dean hadn't kicked his ass, miraculously. And wouldn't let the cat out of the bag. You wouldn't know that you'd been found out. That didn't mean he liked any of it, though.
Dean swore venomously that he would gladly send his brother to the hospital if you ended up hurt. Or pregnant. Or with crabs. Etc. He'd been very thorough in his list.
But, he wouldn't interfere. The only thing that had saved Sam's life was that Dean had heard you inviting Sam to his room. Not, the other way around. Thank god for small mercies...
“I'll stop when I want to.” He shrugged, “Or she wants to.” It was that simple in his mind. The full lips beside him pulled down further.
Dean shuddered in open disgust, “I still don't get it.”
“You don't have to.” Sam returned, running a sponge over the final plate. “Just know we're both consenting adults.”
“Sneaky, consenting adults.” Dean muttered. It wasn't that it had happened that bothered him so much. It was how you'd snuck around. And hadn't intended for him to ever know. The two people closest to him had played him for a fool. That was simply unforgivable.
“Dude,” Sam shook his head before repeating the same idea again. “Get over it.”
“I'll get over it when it's over.” He stated pointedly. Making his stance clear for the umpteenth time. “Maybe.”
“If Y/N and I can get past our differences-”
“Oh, please.” Dean snorted. Calling his brother on his bullshit without a moment of hesitation. “Past your differences? Ya had some kind of battle at dinner. You two aren't even close to past your differences.”
The mocking note in those final words brought out Sam's pettier side, “I can think of a time or two where they haven't mattered-” Water sprayed at him before that thought could be finished. “Dude!”
“I agreed to keep you alive and not tell her, Sammy.” Dean sent his brother a withering glare. “But, that doesn't mean I want anymore details.” His hand came out in defeat as he wilted, rubbing over his face. “I just can't wrap my head around it.. You two...shit, Sam...all you do is fight.”
“I haven't exactly figured it out, myself.” Sam replied. Solemn as he dripped water. Genuinely sorry that his brother felt any kind of weird over it all. But, he'd be damned if that stopped him.
-
Sam went out for a walk as night approached. Needing the cool, crisp air to clear his mind. To get it off of his brother. Off of you.
You'd run off somewhere. Left a note, saying you'd be back by morning. No text. No call. A few items missing. He had no idea when you'd left, much less to where. And it bothered him. A lot. And he was further agitated by the fact he was even bothered to begin with.
As he stewed, he almost missed it. The tiniest hint of smoke filled the air. He followed the scent. Ready to fight to the death if he had to in order to protect his family. Instead, he found something much more alluring than he'd anticipated.
He'd recognize that outline, anywhere. Your head was supported by a clumped up wad of cloth as you stared at the sky. Lower body wrapped, you looked almost too peaceful to disturb. A small fire, nothing more than a source of light, was going beside you. A white beanie was pulled onto your head to help keep yourself warm in the chilled night.
“Didn't know camping was your thing.” His voice made you jump and reach for your gun instinctively. Stopping once you realized it was Sam.
“How'd you find me?” You asked, your brow furrowing as you sat up. Hadn't anticipated on a Sasquatch stumbling along on your camp.
“Bad luck.” The way he said it had your lips tilted up. False loathing wasn't his strong suit. “What're you doing out here?”
“Did you know that the Northern Lights come down this far?” You looked back up to the sky that was quickly darkening. Waiting for the tinge of green to begin.
“Never really stopped to look.” He sauntered over to your blanket, his hands in his pockets still. It wasn't a proud admission. Simply another one of those things his lifestyle had prevented.
“I did.” You smiled lightly, but the look in your eyes said there was a story behind it. Before, he wouldn't have cared. But, in that moment? He wanted every detail. “It was the best part of living in the upper states. The winters can be shit...but then there's moments where the real beauty shines through. Almost makes it all worth it.” You patted the blanket beside you. Inviting the moose to the party. “Might as well wait. Add an experience to your list.”
“You've already added a few.” He pointed out, reaching for the wine you'd brought with. Taking a swig from the bottle, he rested on the thick material.
“Nothing wrong with living on the wild side.” You shrugged out. Not even the slightest bit ashamed. Sam couldn't help but to wonder if you'd feel the same once you realized it wasn't as secret as you thought.
“So, when are these things supposed to show up?” He demanded, looking up at the sky. Turning his thoughts away from the negativity Dean had wormed into his head.
“About another hour, maybe two.” You answered, taking the bottle back for a drink of your own. “There's time to kill.”
“And how do you want to do that?” His eyes glinted with heat that you reacted to, but pushed away.
“Let me play with your hair?” You suggested, making a point to look him dead in the eye. Letting him know you were serious.
“No,” He shook his head, letting the part of him you'd mentioned sway with the motion.
“Please?” You stuck out your bottom lip in a pout. “I'll let you have your filthy way with me when I'm done.”
“Selling yourself for that?” His brow came up. But, his lips tugged down into the dimpled smile that had rarely been bestowed on you.
“I know,” You huffed dramatically. Rolling your eyes as if it was the greatest task to endure. “It's amazing...the lengths I'm willing to go just to play with those luscious locks of yours.”
“That bad, huh?” Sam was unable to resist the small chuckle that escaped.
“Terrible.” You assured him, moving closer. “So, please?” Your eyes were batted in a full beg. “Make it worth my while, Sammy.”
“On one condition.” He held up his finger as you lit up in excitement. Instantly, your face fell in distrust. “We try something new-” You opened your mouth to protest. “As long as you're comfortable.” The quick amendment made you pause. Your eyes stared at his hair calculatingly as you debated on whether the hair was worth actually trusting him.
Finally you nodded, “Fine. Now...come to mama, Goldilocks.” He rolled his eyes, but moved over so that his back was turned to you. There wasn't a moment of hesitation.“I need to steal your shampoo and conditioner.” You sighed out as your hands brushed through the silky locks. No split ends, or damage anywhere to be found. Just nirvana.
“Well, we could always share later...” You could hear the grin with that husky undertone. It'd be risky in the bunker. But, hunts opened all kinds of new possibilities.
“Maybe.” Your own lips were etched into a smile as you stood on your knees. Turning away from the thoughts. “Now, hold still.”
“What're you doing?” He demanded, trying to turn his head around. You simply pressed his cheek back before you started braiding.
“Playing.” You responded easily. Focusing on the task. A small, simple rope rested in his hair before you spoke again. “Since we're doing cliché best friend shit? Time to spill a secret or two.” Teasing came easy as you used your fingers to start on another twist.
“One secret?” He nodded softly. Making you freeze at the thoughtful words. “Deal.”
“Wait, Sam...” You spoke up in a hurry. Dropping your hands as if he'd burned you. “I was kidding-”
“No, it's...It's fine.” He let out a breath. Sam didn't know where the urge came from. But, ignoring it wasn't an option out in the small oasis you'd created in the woods. “I'm the one who said we'd try something new, remember? Two seconds ago? How deep are we talking?”
“Well,” You chewed your lower lip. Regretting ever opening your mouth as you reached back up to his hair. “Girl talk can get pretty intense. But, considering this isn't girl talk? I'll let you decide.”
“Alright,” He settled more on the blanket; enjoying the feeling of your fingers rubbing along his scalp. “I still feel...feel guilty about abandoning Dean...back when he was in purgatory.” Your hands paused momentarily, but you went back to work. Absorbing the raw regret in his voice.
“Why didn't you look?” You asked quietly. Not sounding the least bit judgmental. Instead, simply opening the door for more explanation. Knowing he wanted to talk to someone about it. Just not understanding why it was you he'd chosen.
It was his turn to process that one. Trying to decide if he really wanted to open all the way up. Especially to you of all people.
“I...I...I thou...I thought he died.” He answered finally. Sounding broken at the thought. “I didn't think there was any bringing him back. Not ...Not without Cas...if...if it was even possible.” Sam remembered every moment his brother had been gone. How easily he'd given up. The way he'd let Amelia distract him.
“So, you tried to move on.” You finished softly. Moving your fingers to coax the tension that had appeared in him away. “Understandable.”
“N...Not in our world, Y/N-”
“I'm part of your world, Sam.” You stated softly, massaging his scalp. Earning a low groan of approval he hadn't even meant to release. “Trust me. It makes sense...none of it comes with a map. There was no... guidance. We figure it all out by going through all this shit...You had no way of knowing he was alive.” Your fingers moved down, rubbing along his neck before moving to his shoulders. The massage deepened. Demanding he relaxed. Listened. “When are you going to stop believing that you're the root of the problem, and start realizing that you're part of the solution? You and Dean both have done so much for this world...Even after all the bullshit it dumped on you two.” You took a break, deciding if he really needed the boost enough to get the next few words out. “Besides...Dean knows you care, still...You two are...You two are kinda goals when it comes to family closeness. Even with all the dysfunction.”
“Never thought that I'd hear that from you.” But, some of the tension left his body.
Absorbing the empowering words from a person who had every right to hate him. Someone who could have taken what he'd said and used it as a weapon. Someone who was causing him to get under his brother's skin, again. Adding to the damage that still existed. Even if you didn't know.
“Yeah, well... I never thought I'd say it to you, either.” Your lips pulled up. Smiling at him when he turned to look you in the eyes. Searching for the sincerity in the E/C. “Doesn't make it any less true, Sam.”
“So... what's yours?” He moved on, not wanting to dwell on his insecurities. Sitting straighter up as he pushed away his doubts involving his brother. A move to reassert himself as a man who didn't need to lean on someone else.
“Guess I gotta match it with one of the deeper ones, huh? I'll be honest...it's not as good as yours.” Your teeth sank into your bottom lip for a minute as your fingers slipped away from the chestnut locks. “My first kill? It was before I turned eighteen.” You shrugged as it didn't matter. But, there was more to the story. Sam could hear it in every word that escaped. The way your eyes wouldn't meet his when he turned spoke volumes. “You and Dean were hunting before then. So, it probably seems like no big deal. But...it...it really shook me up.” Still did based on the way your breath shook. “He...he wasn't even a monster.” You let Sam pull away. Believing that he was appalled. Only to find his hands reaching for you after he turned your way better. The hunter didn't hesitate. Tugging you until you fell into his lap. Needing to return the comfort you'd given him.“Well...not by our usual definition.”
“What happened?” He asked as softly as he could, his hands kneading along your tensed neck. Mimicking the way you'd touched him.
“He was abducting girls up by the Highway of Tears.” Memories clouded your vision. Taking you back to that time. “I'd gotten across the boarder. Trying to find something new...I was young. So...so sure that I'd be fine. He got a hold of me when my car broke down...so I did what I had to do.” Your finger trailed over a scar on your wrist. The only physical reminder that remained. Sam's gaze followed the movement. Curious, but not ready to push. “He didn't get a chance to cut deep before I broke free...I ran...can't remember how long it was. It felt like forever before I couldn't go any further.” The Winchester had an imagination that couldn't be rivaled. He could picture it perfectly. You sitting against a tree. Bleeding. Terrified. Trying so hard to catch your breath. “I found a sharp branch. Must've broken off during a storm...he hadn't counted on that.” You took a long drink from the wine, letting it start to warm your blood. Needing the sensation to feel that much more alive. “I jammed it in his throat when he grabbed me...He'd left at least ten other girls in the foliage right off of the road. Who knows how many uncovered bodies.”
“Jesus, Y/N...” He couldn't imagine the fear. How the guilt would've eaten at you.
His first kill had technically been a salt and burn. But, his first real kill had involved a knife and a woman determined to eat a piece of his brain. He'd been younger, but he'd been trained enough to take it better than a young girl on her own. Raised by two hunters that got him through it. You'd had no one to talk you down. To make sense of it all.
“I don't regret it.” You looked back at him. Making that much clear. There'd been too much time to dwell on it. To see it objectively. “I just wish that I had been a little older...maybe been with someone who'd been through it.” You shrugged it off as though it didn't matter. Despite the fact that it did. “After that? I always kept a blade on me. Just happened to be silver. My second kill was a werewolf...” Memory lane wasn't filled with happy. Another small shrug left you. “Dean thinks he was my first.”
“That's when you and Bane started hunting together.” Sam connected the dots. He'd heard enough about the wolf to fit the timeline together. Amazed that he was getting something his brother didn't know anything about.
“Yeah... He didn't tell me about the life before that. He'd actually run into Bobby when I was busy traveling through Canada....Seems like a life time ago.” The memories were bittersweet, then. So much history that had led you to the point where you were. “He assisted me with the wolf's body. Taught me what he knew... It got easier, then. Helped me realize that by taking out the bad? I was helping save the good. I needed that.”
“And then you turned into a bad ass.”
“And then I turned into a bad ass,” You agreed, turning to smile at him softly. Appreciating the attempt to cheer you up. “Bane doesn't even know about him.” Your eyes connected with the deep, soft hazel that rested above you. “He knows pieces... But, not...not all of it.” Wheels were turning in your head. That much was clear. Then, you spoke up again.“Yeah, I can't have you telling anyone about this. I only have two options here...” Teasing. Sam could live with that. It was easier than the dark and depressing. Familiar. “I have to kill you...or-”
“Or what?” Sam played along. His brow lifting as he waited for the answer.
“Or, you have to pinky promise not to tell anyone what was said out here.” You stuck out your pinky. Mouth tugged down in a mock frown.
“Really?” He laughed. Actually laughed. His head thrown back and all.
“I'm glad you find this amusing, but I'm serious.” You wiggled your pinky mullishly. “Come on! I'll agree to the same terms.”
“Fine,” He chuckled, wrapping his pinky around yours. Taking in the pinched expression you carried.
“Now, kiss your thumb.” You ordered before kissing your own. He did it, his hazel eyes still glowing in amusement. You pressed your thumb into his. “You break this promise? It becomes open season on moose men.”
“Deal...” His grip loosened. Moving instead to trace over the top of your hand. Hormones never seemed to settle when you were close. “Kissing my thumb was fun and all,” Sam grinned wolfishly your way. “But, I definitely know of something I'd rather kiss.”
“Oh, yeah?” You'd definitely caught his meaning. The heat in his eyes gave it away.
“Yeah.” His lips landed on yours gently. “Come here.” Orders usually fell short. But, with his mouth on yours? You were putty in his hands. Slowly, you let him tug you up until you were straddling his lap. “You know...I think we have a lotta time to kill until those lights make an appearance.” His thumb stroked your cheek almost tenderly as his eyes further darkened in the last bit of dusk and firelight.
“Sex outside?” Your arms wrapped around his neck. More than willing to take the distraction that he offered. “Sam Winchester...You're getting pretty adventurous.” Your lips ghosted over his, pulling back as he moved in to make full contact. “What happens if someone finds us?”
“Invite them to join the party, or ignore them.” He answered easily. Too set on what he wanted to give a damn. “You agreed to something new, Y/N... Don't back out now.”
“But did I pinky promise it-” You squealed as you were thrown beneath his body. Pinned down using nothing more than the heat of his body near you. “So forceful.” You got out breathlessly. “One of these days? We're going to have to switch roles. I never get to have any kind of control.”
“You already have too much, Y/N.” You didn't get a chance to process those raspy words before his mouth ceased conversation.
That dangerous tongue of his demanded entrance. Allowing it was second nature. Letting yourself become drunk off of the taste that was uniquely his mixed with the wine you'd both consumed. Your hands trailed over his body, opening his jacket. Getting closer to his skin.
Pieces of clothing were thrown as you two grew closer. More demanding. When you were naked and he was in nothing more than his boxers, Sam stopped. Looking over at the wine that was back in the ice- which was taking it's time melting.
“What?” You asked, still caged beneath him. The cool air in contrast to his body left goosebumps along your skin.
“Just how many new things can we get away with tonight?” His warm voice asked, sending more bumps along your flesh. The rough hand was busy running along your side as he glanced back at the bucket.
“Do it...” Your lips pressed into his collar bone. Giving your consent without even looking. Too horny to turn away anything he could come up with. At least, that was your excuse. “Whatever you're thinking? I'm in.”
“Just like that?”
“You haven't steered me wrong, yet.” You pulled his face back down to yours for a heated kiss. Encouraging him. “So, yeah... Just like that.”
“If you don't like it-”
“Sam... I get it. You'll stop.” It was sweet. Having someone care so much about needing your approval. You were starting to believe that you'd give into anything he asked of you. “Go for it.” His shirt was tied into a makeshift blindfold, covering your eyes. His body left yours for a minute, before it returned. As his lips pressed against yours, you felt the coolness. “Really?” You laughed, pulling away. “You watch 50 shades earlier, or what?” A cold drop hit your chest before you felt the ice press against your skin at the base of your throat. “You know what? It doesn't matter.” You huffed out, taking a shaky breath. You heard the small, muffled chuckle and could just picture his smug face, but that didn't matter as the ice moved.
The chill of the cube was combined with the heat of his mouth, creating an interesting combination as he pressed open mouthed kisses down your body. Cold swirling between your skin and him. He took his time, teasing. Trailing the ice over you.
Occasionally, it was left out on it's own to torture you instead of being combined with him. Other times, you only felt his lips, tongue, and teeth against your skin. He left little skin untouched by either. You never knew which to expect, or where. It drove you crazy as time faded away.
Sam Winchester had you moaning, gasping, and begging before he stopped. His favorite sound leaving you as he pulled away. You almost wilted in relief when the crinkle of the condom was heard. This time, you felt the blanket slide over your bodies as well when he was back over you.
As his lips pressed into yours, the blind fold was removed. He let your eyes adjust to the light from the fire. When they settled back on him, a small, not quite arrogant tug of his lips graced your view. At one point, it might have irked you. Instead, you pulled him back down to you. Kissing him deeply as you demanded more. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him down where you needed. Luckily, he had no problems reading the silent language.
You cried out his name passionately as he pressed into you. Not bothering to be quiet in the wilderness. He growled in response; picking up his pace to make up for lost time. To hear that needy, broken note leave your throat again. And again. One hand was busy keeping his weight from crushing you. The other holding your leg open so he could hit where he needed to. His fingers were sure to leave marks on your skin as he pounded into you relentlessly. Marks he was sure only you'd see.
You'd be feeling it for days the way he was going. Would think of him slamming in deep every time you saw a bruise. But, that didn't make you want to stop. Instead, you moved with him. Your hands pulling on his hair to earn one of those sexy growls. Or, scratching along his back to drag out a feral groan. Digging into his ass to guide him along. Anywhere you could get them.
You weren't typically a screamer, but there was something about Sam that drug the shouts from your lips. As you crashed over your climax, your head flew back and one left you brokenly. A few more erratic thrusts and he found his own release. His own shout being lost to the wind before he practically collapsed in relief. He rolled off almost immediately, breathing as heavily as you.
Immediately his gaze turned to your face. Looking for any more of the regret that had been known to linger. Instead, he found you watching the sky. A small smile gracing the still swollen mouth. Hair splayed out along the pine bed. Slowly, he looked up to see what you had moved onto.
“Wow.” Sam breathed out as he started settling down.
“Is that in reference to the sky... or the sex?” You asked, turning your head to look at him for the first time. Drawing his attention back to your face.
“Both.” He answered, taking the time to look back at you with a grin before going back to the sky. It was filled with green lights writhing lightly, mixed with some pink and even twinges of blue. They were brighter than you'd ever seen them before. “You weren't kidding.”
“No.” You smiled almost happily. “I wasn't.”
You two sat watching the skies quietly. Just enjoying the lights, the quiet, and each others presence. You weren't quite sure who made the first move, but you found yourself with your head resting on his shoulder. His heavy arm around your waist. Pinning your body to his under the blanket as he fell asleep. Once you were comfortable, and almost out, it clicked. You knew exactly what was missing, and your stomach dropped. You were falling for Sam freaking Winchester.
–
“Y/N!” Your lips twitched as the lisp ridden roar filled the air. All eyes turned to you. Not bothering to look up, the eggs in front of you were shoveled into your mouth. Simply waiting for the thundering buffoon to find his way to confrontation.
Finding a sense of safety in Sam Winchester's arms was unacceptable. It was pathetic how cozy you'd been. How easily you'd given up several of the rules that would ensure your protection. Once the lights were gone and you'd gotten your distance, you'd turned the tables back to where they should've remained the entire time.
The furious rumbling didn't stop until the giant leered above you. Lazily, you lifted your gaze to the dark, injured hazel. “You good?”
“I thwear to god.” You'd managed to mix Orajel into his tooth paste. Coated his toothbrush in the brew. Extra strength. Apparently he'd let it sit before hunting you down. “Why?”
“I got bored.” You dropped all pretenses as your fork was set down. Stubbornly, your jaw tilted upwards. Daring him to challenge it.
Jody watched the exchange quizzically from her place at the head of the table. Claire seemed to enjoy the childish antics. Grinning in appreciation at the numb mouthed beast in front of her. Alex was simply tired. Uninterested in the early morning drama after the first roar had been released.
Dean, however, waited for your response. Brow raised as he inspected the closest people in his life duking it out. Again. Trying to sort out if there was any real animosity behind the actions, or if it was an attempt to disguise the most recent late night disappearances.
The younger Winchester had no trouble discerning the issue. He'd seen that cold, detached expression time and time again. You were throwing up your walls after a hint of intimacy. And damn if that didn't make his skin crawl.
It was you who was the threat to him. One complaint to Dean and he'd be thrown on his ass. A single wrong move and Bane would geld him. But, you? Everyone would back you. No matter how it went. There was nothing that should've sent you running backwards in his eyes.
His nostrils flared as he fought to prevent himself from throwing you over his knee and being done with it, “Thith ithn't over.”
“I know.” The fallen tone had Sam rocking back on his heels. As if all fight had left you with a single sentence. Slowly, you got to your feet. Leaving nothing but confusion in your wake as you turned away.
Part Thirteen
Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon @supernaturalginger @lilulo-12 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce
LHYHM: @burningmusicmachine @missmarrinette @sherlockedtash88 @rathersuspiciousbumblebee @sasbb23 @nothinbuttrouble2 @baby-bunker-pie @neii3n @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @malfoysqueen14 @calaofnoldor @hhiggs @sydneytea @hoboal87
#supernatural#SPN#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural reader insert#spn fanfiction#spn reader insert#supernatural smut#spn smut#sam#sam winchester#sam winchester smut#sam smut#sam winchester fanfiction#sam fanfiction#Sam Winchester reader insert#sam winchester x reader#sam reader insert#sam x reader#sam x you#sam x y/n#sam winchester x y/n#sam winchester x you
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Oh you /TWO!/ You had BETTER clear this up with anxiety RIGHT NOW.
@ncanspeak said: YEAH LOGAN, YOU’VE BROKEN THE POOR BABY!!!
Anonymous said: Roman, PLEASE be running off to tell Anxiety that his box was invisible and soundproof to Patton PLEASE
Anonymous said: Well, I think they managed to break Anxiety :/
Anonymous said: I dont know if at this point his panic attack will be a good thing because Logan might ask for help because feeling or if it’ll be a bad thing where Roman exploits his weakness
@hotchocolatehugs said: ALRIGHT LOGAN YOU’D BETTER GO SPEAK TO VIRGIL, BEFORE YOU CAUSE HIM ANY MORE TRAUMA!
@10moonymhrivertam said: Guys please be careful with Virgil I think he’s about to go catatonic…just be gentle and maybe don’t deride his function so much? THOMAS PLEASE FUCK SOMETHING UP SOONER RATHER THAN LATER
@skeletonsloverockcandy said: Lo and Ro please make sure Anxiety’s ok, please reassure him about what happened, poor boy is likely having a panic attack.
Anonymous said: How could they! Now they’ll either find the aftermath a shell of an ALREADY broken man or find him in the middle of his crisis! Shame on both you boys!
Anonymous said: Roman, Logan, you better be ready to comfort a tiny Anxiety! I don’t care if you don’t like him or if it doesn’t mean anything in the end but you both caused this so you gotta do the damage control. (I love this story so much! I am so invested in this!)
Anonymous said: I’m all for the Virgil angst that is coming from Logan’s “mistake” >:] He is going to cry? Please make Virgil cry and I’ll give my soul to you
By the time they arrived, Anxiety looked as though he had already gone through several different stages of grief, his eyes red and puffy and his knuckles bruised. Even the bed was a mess of discarded blankets, halfway off its frame. Now, though, the anxious seemed settled firmly on anger.
“Oh, look who’s here.” He spat as he paced back and forth in front of them, more scathing than they’d heard in a while. Roman winced, and Logan opened his mouth, but Anxiety wasn’t about to let them get a word in edgewise. “Off laughing at the great joke you pulled? Convincing me you were going to let me go after a measly week, ha! Were you placing bets on how long it would take me to realize that Patton was in on it the whole time?”
“Anxiety-”
“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say! You lied to my face.” Anxiety snarled at Logan, lip curling up to bare his teeth in a gesture that would have made Roman reach for his sword normally. Like this, it just made him feel a strange sort of pity.
“I did not lie.” Logan said, and lowered the walls of the box. For the first time, the small side didn’t even flinch at being surrounded, something unhinged and desperate in his glare.
“You did. You did! The jig is up, I watched- I saw Patton come in here. I-” His voice cracked, and he bit his bottom lip so hard that it began to bleed before continuing. “He looked right at me and didn’t look even a little surprised. He brought an entire meal in for me, like… like I’m a prized show animal or something.”
The tiny side flung an arm out to gesture to the plate sitting on the desk nearby, and even that small movement seemed to exhaust him. He leaned heavily against the glass, and now that he wasn’t in motion, Roman could see the way his whole body was shaking.
“I did not lie then, and I’m not lying now.” Logan said, holding a hand up when Anxiety opened his mouth. “Please at least allow me to explain before you reject my words.”
Anxiety quieted, though it seemed less because of Logan’s request and more because he simply didn’t have the energy to yell any more.
“Patton did not react because he did not see you when he entered the room. The box I have designed is meant to conceal you from any prying eyes. If someone enters my room without my permission or knowledge, it is camouflaged and muted, meaning there is almost no way for a side to know you are there. This was a feature I added with the Duke in mind, but it applies to Patton as well. We still have not informed him of your situation.”
@the-opal-essence said: Oh no! That’s worse. That is so much worse! Is Virgil going to say anything in front of Roman and Logan about him now believing Patton is in on the experiment? Will they correct him or let him hold onto this belief for the sake of the experiment? It might make him less likely to try and escape if he feels no one is on his side.
Anonymous said: No no no, virgil, he didn’t see you, he’s worried about he, he doesn’t know what’s happening virgil. Please don’t look at Patton in a bad light. He really does care. He’s just super distracted and out of it for some reason.
@skeletonsloverockcandy said: Virgil I think Logan did something to the box and Patton simply didn’t see you, he is the logical side after all, he would’ve ensured a back up plan. So I don’t think Patton knows, I think he was just worried about you and Logan and that’s why he came in the room. I mean, it’s not like Patton to just ignore someone, if he’d known you were there he would have acknowledged you at least.
@pansy-chic27213 said: Virgil, Logan soundproofed the box. Patton couldn’t hear you, and he was trying to be a good friend and bring you some dinner (because Logan said he’s been bring your meals to you, to prevent Patton from getting suspicious). I also think that Patton couldn’t see the box. If that’s true, he was completely unaware you were there, but it also means that he cares about you and is NOT complicit in your entrapment. We just gotta figure out a way to make him see the box. Does the box have a roof?
@flameingdarkness said: Hey there Virgil, you need to breathe, okay? In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8. As many tries as you need and as many times as you need. I know this looks bad, but lets not jump to conclusions, alright? Besides that, we’re all here for you! You have allies. We want to help you in any and every way we can! Remember, no matter what happens, you are not alone in this.
Virgil’s ears rang as he turned the explanation over and over in his mind, poking a thousand little holes in it. He couldn’t believe him, couldn’t trust them, either of them, to be honest.
But he wanted to. He wanted to so badly, bad enough that his throat closed up and his eyes began to water painfully. He turned away from them, running that dreaded moment through his mind for the thousandth time.
Patton hadn’t even looked at him. His eyes had passed right over him, as though- as though he wasn’t even there. As though he was invisible.
The fragile hope in his chest grew despite his best efforts to smother it. He could never have imagined Patton being so cruel, after all. He was in charge of everything Thomas aspired to be, guiding him towards the right thing to do. Him being stuck like this against his will, defenseless and vulnerable- that couldn’t be right.
Could it?
Logan cleared his throat, making his head snap up slightly, suddenly aware of the lack of barriers between him and the other Sides. “I can only provide the facts. What you choose to believe is up to you, Anxiety.”
“Speaking of, the facts right now are that Pat is waiting for us alone.” Roman said, elbowing Logan. “After being late for breakfast because of Anxiety, I think the least we can do is show up to dinner early.”
Logan nodded, and slid the plate Patton had left closer to Virgil in one smooth motion. He backed up a few steps belatedly, and then watched as those near-invisible walls closed up over him again, hiding him away.
He hated how he almost felt safer behind them.
#asks#anonymous#flameingdarkness#skeletonsloverockcandy#pansy-chic27213#the-opal-essence#10moonymhrivertam#hotchocolatehugs#ncanspeak#((hello stockholm syndrome my old friend))#joyfulness03#((virgil is like if you even try to comfort me i will attack you like a feral dog))#chrono
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Save Me: Chapter 15 - Would you die for me?
~Hey Guys! This is Chapter 15 of Save Me❤️ I can’t believe we’re already at 15 chapters and everyone’s support has made this possible so thank you all!! Molly is devastated as she encounters Negan’s cruelty first hand, causing her to question her ever-becoming real feelings for him. I hope you enjoy and Chapter 16 is out on Wednesday ❤️🤟🏻~
Molly had finally gotten what she'd wanted for the longest time, a chance to see her family again. Little did she know that this reunion would be far from sweet.
'What time are we going?' I asked as we strolled down the hallway together.
'3:00pm, I've got a couple things to do before we go but we can spend the morning together' he replied smirking.
He spun around, propped Lucille against the wall and pulled me in for a kiss.
I smiled and giggled 'oh, is this what we do now?' I whispered against his lips mockingly.
He chuckled and whispered gruffly, 'oh yeah'.
We moved over to lean against the wall as I moved my lips against his passionately.
'Wait, not here' he growled as he pulled me down a dark corridor.
His hands drifted to my waist as he firmly pressed me against the wall and raised my arms above my head.
I moaned as his fingers traced up and down my bare arms until his fingers interlocked with mine as he held me there.
He pressed his body against mine, feeling his warmth rush through me.
I so badly wanted to touch him but I immediately surrendered to his touch when his kisses travelled along my neck, nibbling and licking at my bare flesh.
My eyes closed as I rested my head against the wall with a smile across my face.
I noticed his kisses getting less frequent and I opened my eyes as he frowned and pulled away.
'What is it?' I asked frowning with concern.
He sighed deeply until he said 'I need to tell you something'.
I waited anxiously for him to continue, 'right now?' I asked in frustration.
'We gotta make Rick and the others stand down and there needs to be punishment, you know that' he said seriously.
I pulled back from him, 'what do mean punishment?' I asked sternly.
'Lucille's gotta get her three, then we can move forward with a new understanding' he replied nonchalantly.
My eyes began to well up as I looked at him, he was deadly serious.
I pushed him off me and said sternly 'no one has to die'.
'You are wrong Molly, punishment? can't do anything without that. Punishment is how we built everything we have. I thought you got that?' he said with a raised voice.
How the hell did we just go from making out up against a wall to arguing again?!
'I get that, really I do. But they're my family. No has to die' I repeated slowly.
'Okay, how bout this. One, just one' he replied softly.
'Fine. But I get to pick' I stated coldly.
He looked at me intensely until his lips formed a smile.
'Alright, who'll it be?' he asked seriously.
I took a minute before deciding, 'Spencer Monroe' I said looking back up at him with determination.
He smirked and asked 'why?'.
'He's weak and entitled. He put the group at risk too many times' I said angrily as I reflected.
He just nodded as he agreed.
'I am sorry it has to be this way darlin’. You know I'd never want to put you through this if it could be avoided' he said touching his forehead against mine.
I closed my eyes, feeling closer to him than ever, yet so unbelievably far away.
Alexandria - Rosita's POV//
His hands were wrapped around me as I woke, ugh I can't believe I did that last night, and with him.
I would never be over Abraham. Spencer, though he was hot was a distraction and an asshole.
I managed to wriggle out of his grasp and grab my clothes off of the floor, as I was getting dressed Rick radio'ed us saying we needed to meet at the gates in five.
I chucked a pillow at him, 'Spencer!' I shouted.
He mumbled and rubbed his eyes as he woke, 'what?'.
'Get up. Meeting by the gate' I said with a hint of anger. Mostly at myself.
'Last night was fun' he said chuckling as he pulled up his pants.
'Uh huh' I said as I grabbed my gun and headed out.
'Bye then' he shouted after me. I just rolled my eyes, this hangover was worse than ever.
'Alright listen up. Negan is coming today and we don't want any conflict so just do as he says so he'll leave faster. That means moving all of the supplies out to the gate ready for their pick up' Rick shouted so everyone gathered around could here.
I gave Rick a scowl, why the hell was he being so complacent? It honestly felt like Michonne and I were the only ones actually giving a shit.
As we stood at the gates, Eugene was on watch and shouted there was a figure approaching.
Thinking it was Negan, people started to panic.
‘Oh my good gracious, she's back' he boomed down to us.
I smiled knowing exactly who had returned to us. Tara.
She waltzed in past the gates, wearing orange shades, like she'd been on vacation.
She ran over to me, pulling me in for a hug before she went over to Rick and the others.
'Where's Heath?' I asked confusedly.
'We got separated. A hoard were all around us and he bolted' she said defeatedly.
'What a dick' I replied to which Tara just smiled weakly.
'Where's Molly and Denise?' she asked excitedly.
I looked down for a second before breaking the news.
'Tara...Molly's with the Saviours, she has been for a while now. But...Denise, she um, a saviour killed her' I said with sorrow in my eyes.
She looked down, tears flowing down her face. 'So what? Are we doing nothing?! How have the Saviours taken two of the people that mean the most to me?!' she shouted through the tears.
'I'm sorry Tara. But they killed Glenn and Abraham. Now we have to provide for them, for Negan, he's their leader' I spoke while turning to Rick who was heartbroken.
Tara said nothing, she just turned and ran for her house.
When I found her, she was sitting on the floor in her kitchen, looking at a doctor bobble head.
'I'm sorry Tara' I said, my voice catching in my throat.
'I'm sorry too' she said wearily and breathing deeply.
'We don't have to just sit here. Guns? Ammunition? You don't have any leads?' I asked.
Tara looked up at me now.
I stormed over to her, bending down in front of her, 'anything, anywhere, I don't care how dangerous it looked. Just tell me a place and i'll go' I pleaded.
'There's gotta be somewhere' I said, tears falling down my face.
I sighed, 'we can square this, we can make this right'.
She looked down, looking at her locket.
'We can't. I didn't see anything like that out there' she said softly.
I sighed in frustration. 'Stay here while Negan comes, don't put yourself through that' I said touching her shoulder before walking away.
She just nodded in agreement.
Molly's POV//
That journey felt like the longest one yet. Butterflies filled my stomach as I anticipated seeing my family.
Questions circling my mind, clouding my concentration:
What would they think of me?
Would they hate me?
Was Tara back?
Was she okay?
Had I picked right?
All these thoughts flooded my brain.
I was angry at him, but I also understood.
If Rick had been in this position, he would have killed them all. I know he would...he did at the outpost.
Negan turned to me briefly before focusing back on the road, 'you okay darlin? I know this is tough' he said softly.
'I'm fine' I said hastily as I turned around to look out of the window.
I was anything but fine. I only hoped that they wouldn't sense our relationship.
Before too long, I spotted the gates in the distance. My home, Alexandria.
It was sunny that day, although it felt like it should have been raining.
As soon as we stopped at the gates, and they let us through, I could see everyone working away like nothing had changed. That wasn't true of course, everything had changed and I didn't know whether it was for the better.
There was a pile of supplies by the gates which made Negan chuckle 'god, they're eager this week aren't they?' he said. I was silent.
Negan jumped out first, swinging Lucille over his shoulder, as did the other Saviours.
I sat in the truck for a couple seconds, breathing heavily. I had to do this.
I jumped out, putting my gun into its holster and held my locket in between my fingers nervously.
Negan sensed how I was feeling and came over to me, but I immediately stepped away from him not wanting anyone to see.
When he was caring like this, I almost forgot that everything between us was just a game. On my part it had to be, I could never let myself truly have feelings for such a man. But on his part, I wondered how real his feelings were, or whether my partiality towards him simply meant loyalty to his Saviours and not Rick.
He was hurt at this but shot me a look of understanding.
'Alright people, let's get this show on the fucking road. I want all houses checked for guns and a list of inventory taken. Arat come with me and Molly' he said striding out in front of me.
I gulped. All residents looked at Negan, then at me with their eyes a little wider when we made eye contact.
Some thought me his prisoner, I'm sure. But, I kept my composure as we walked through Alexandria.
Rick wasn't here which was odd. Neither was Michonne or Maggie.
All of a sudden a gunshot fired out of nowhere.
'Stop right there or the next one goes in you' Carl shouted walking over to us.
Negan chuckled as he turned round to see him 'of course, really kid?' he said smiling.
'You should go, before you find out how dangerous we all are' Carl said scowling at Negan.
I was stood directly behind, but when I stepped out Carl saw me and scowled.
'Well pardon me young man, excuse the shit out of my goddamn french but did you just threaten me?' Negan replied, slightly amused by the situation.
'We're taking half of your shit, and half is what I say it is' Negan said sternly.
'Molly?' Carl said, his voice catching in his throat.
I just looked at him with tears filling in my eyes, before I pushed them back.
'Where's Rick?' I asked sternly.
'Out getting supplies' he replied softly as he frowned at my behaviour.
I just nodded.
Negan smiled before looking at me to see how I was doing.
'Alright well, we'll just wait till he gets back. You gonna take us on the grand tour kid?' he said smirking at Carl.
Carl huffed and scowled before striding out in front towards their house. This was more painful than I ever imagined.
As soon as we got there, Negan wanted to see every single damn room in their house, which included Judith's nursery.
'Oh my, look at this little angel' Negan said smiling as he went in and lifted her up, holding her against his chest.
Carl looked super uncomfortable, but when Negan looked at me it was a strange feeling.
Seeing him holding Judith made me wonder whether he would be a good father, he seemed like a natural.
I couldn't help but smile when he looked straight at me with that meaningful look he does.
He was intent on holding Judith while we sat in the kitchen. He bounced her on his knee, made silly faces at her which made her giggle.
I smiled at him, he was so good with kids.
Arat stood outside, like a guard.
We heard her shouting 'no!' outside so we decided to see what was going on.
Negan handed Judith to Carl as he opened the door. 'Don't be an asshole Arat. Let the man pass' he said playfully.
Spencer came stomping up this stairs with a glass of bourbon in his hand.
'Oh, crap. Is that for me?' Negan said smiling.
'We haven't officially met, I'm Spencer Monroe' he said smirking.
Negan looked back at me and winked, then gestured to him to have a seat out on the porch.
I stood in the doorway looking at them.
Spencer just looked at me suspiciously.
'Running water, air conditioning, a housewarming gift?' That settles it, I am getting myself a vacation home here' Negan said smiling.
'Cheers to that' Spencer replied as they clinked glasses.
Negan took a sip of bourbon, 'mmm. Oh, that is good. You know the only thing missing is a pool table' Negan said raising his eyebrows.
'Nothing better than a good game of eight ball' he added.
'House across the street has one in the garage' Spencer said cockily.
'Oh, Spencer. I do believe you may just be my new best friend' Negan said chuckling.
Jesus Christ, just get it over with already! I thought, scowling at the pair of them.
They got some men to lift the pool table into the middle of the street.
'I could never do this with Rick, he would just be standing there scowling, giving me that annoying side-eye he gives me' Negan said while reading up his cue.
'That's actually what I came to see you about. I wanted to talk to you about Rick' Spencer said with determination.
Negan looked at me standing by him before saying, 'Alright, talk to me Spencer'.
'I get what you're trying to do here, I'm not saying that I agree with your methods, but I get it. You're building a network, you're making people contribute for the greater good. It makes sense' Spencer said so everyone around could hear him.
Rosita and Tara came out, hearing the commotion. I looked around to see her.
'But you should know, Rick Grimes has a history of not working well with others' Spencer added.
'Is that so?' Negan answered.
Rosita saw me first and I felt the pain in her eyes as she held Tara back from running towards me.
I looked at Tara, before looking towards Negan. She immediately understood, and saw me as on his side. I wanted so badly to run to her, but Negan didn't know I had a sister alive and as much as I wanted to trust him, I couldn't.
I just touched my locket and she knew how much I loved her.
We always did that, if we couldn't say it, we held our lockets in our hands. Tara, seeing me hold it she held hers in response. I smiled slightly looking down, before looking back at Negan to make sure he hadn't seen.
'Rick wasn't the original leader here, my mom was' Spencer said confidently.
'She was doing a really good job of it. Then she died, not long after Rick showed up, same with my brother, same with my dad' he continued resentfully.
I looked over to see Carl standing talking to Olivia. She was the one who looked after our food supply. Carl looked happier so I knew Rick must have returned, hopefully with Michonne.
'So everything was peachy here, for what? Years? And then Rick shows up and suddenly you're an orphan? That is the saddest story I've ever heard' Negan said with an air of sincerity.
'Good thing for you, he's not in charge anymore' Negan said smiling.
'Doesn't matter. His ego's out of control' Spencer replied.
I scowled at him for speaking about Rick like that and Negan noticed.
'He'll find a way to screw things up and take over' Spencer whined.
'What exactly are you proposing be done about that?' Negan asked.
'I am my mother's son. I can be the leader she was' Spencer said confidently.
Negan leaned in, smiling and said 'so I should put you in charge, that's what your saying?'.
'We'd be much better off' Spencer added.
'So, what are you thinking?' Spencer asked Negan.
'I'm thinking about how Rick clearly hates my guts, but he is out there right now, gathering shit for me to make sure I don't hurt any of these fine people that live here. That takes guts. Then there's you, the guy who waited for Rick to be gone, to get me to do his dirty work, so he could take Rick's place. Why not just kill Rick yourself?' Negan asked.
Negan moved closer to Spencer before whispering 'you know what I'm thinkin?'.
He exhaled, 'It's because you've got no guts' Negan whispered before drawing out a knife and slitting his stomach open.
Everyone was in shock. I gasped at what he just did.
'How embarrassing, there they are. You did have guts, I've never been so wrong in my entire life!' Negan shouted while smiling. He was enjoying this.
'Anyone wanna finish the game? C'mon. I was winning' he said smiling.
No one made a move. Suddenly Rosita pulled out her gun and took a shot directly at Negan.
I lunged forward. Negan looked at Lucille who how had a bullet.
‘Shit, what the shit?!' Negan yelled as Arat tackled Rosita to the ground.
What the hell?!
'Shit! You just- You just try to kill me?!' Negan screamed hovering Lucille over her.
'You shot Lucille!' he yelled.
'She got in the way' Rosita said breathlessly.
Negan looked at me while I shook my head, 'don't' I mouthed.
He calmed down slightly before picking up the bullet casing.
'What is this?' he asked, 'This little bad boy made from scratch? Look at those crimps' he said while admiring the bullet.
'This was homemade' Negan said softly. Eugene was terrified. Of course he'd made it.
'You may be stupid, but you showed some real ingenuity here' Negan whispered as Arat held a knife to Rosita's throat.
'Arat, move that knife up. Out onto that girl's face' Negan said sternly.
I scowled at him.
'Lucille's beautiful smooth surface will never be the same again, so why should yours!' he yelled. 'Unless...you tell me who made this' he said holding up the casing.
Arat started to dig the knife into Rosita's cheek. I shot her a look of pleading.
'It was me, I made it' Rosita said confidently
'You see, now I just think your lying' Negan said smirking down at her.
'It was me' Rosita said leaning up to cut herself with the knife.
'Oh! You are such a badass!' Negan chuckled.
'Arat, kill somebody' Negan said seriously this time. He couldn't look at me, he just looked at the ground.
'No! It was me!' Rosita screamed.
Arat spun around and shot Olivia in the eye. She was dead instantly.
A single tear rolled down my cheek. Tara gasped as I looked over at her.
Suddenly, Rick came walking over with Aaron over his shoulder, Aaron looked like he'd been beat up badly.
Rick looked at me in surprise before marching over to Negan, 'we had an agreement!' Rick spat.
'Rick! Look everybody its Rick! Ah your people are making me lose my voice doin all this yelling' Negan shouted excitedly.
'How about a thank you? I mean, I know we started off this relationship on the wrong fucking foot but how about a little credit? Is that too much to ask?' Negan said to Rick scowling.
'Your shit is waiting for you at the gate, just go' Rick said hoarsely.
'Sure thing Rick, right after I find the gal or guy that made this bullet' Negan said smiling.
'It was me' Tara shouted.
I lunged over to her putting myself in front of her, 'no!' I shouted.
Negan looked at me frowning in confusion. Now he knew.
Arat aimed at me just as Eugene spoke up, 'it was me' he said nervously.
'It required one spent casing one four-holed turret reloader, powder, one funnel for the powder-' Eugene said hastily.
'Shut up' Negan whispered, leaning into him. 'I believe you' Negan added softly.
He scowled down at Rosita, then back up at me still protecting Tara. I held my hand behind me for her to take. She held my hand, shaking like a leaf. I was steady now.
'I'm gonna be relieving you of your bullet maker Rick, that and whatever you left for me at the gate' he said frustratedly.
'Whatever you scavenged, it's not enough because you are still in a serious, serious hole after today. Let's move out!' he yelled.
'No! Please just take me' Rosita screamed.
Negan looked at me, nodding to go. I spun round to Tara, tears in my eyes.
'Be strong for me, okay?' I whispered rubbing away her tears. I smiled at her as she pulled me in for a hug.
'I'm so happy you're back and you're safe' I said softly.
I let go of her and walked towards Negan who was waiting for me, scowling.
I turned back around and held my locket, she smiled weakly and did the same.
Rick stopped me as I walked past, 'I'm okay' I whispered to him. Rick let go instantly.
Once I had caught up with Negan we walked, side by side, in silence.
It was the same way the journey home. I just wanted to sleep and cry. I couldn't even look at him right now, he promised me one and he killed two and harmed one.
He tried to reach out his hand across to my seat in the truck but I just shifted away to look out of the window to see Tara and Rosita stood there watching me leave.
When we got back, Negan held the door open for me and held out his hand like I was some princess. I was no princess, just an animal in captivity.
I hopped straight out and nudged his hand out of the way with my body as I charged past him, not even looking at him.
He said nothing, didn't even try to hold me back.
As soon as I was out of sight, I ran as fast as my legs could carry me all the way up to my room and I cried myself to sleep that night. To think, I had slept next to him the night before.
The next morning...
I didn't speak to Eugene until the next morning when I walked straight past the main hall, knowing Negan would be in there, and headed for the armoury.
The armoury had an extension where there were tools for fixing weapons and now bullet making.
I opened the door to see Eugene sat down, sorting through the casings. He looked different to last night, like he was content.
'Hey' I said softly.
'Hello Molly' he replied, still engrossed in his work.
'I'm so sorry Eugene. How are you doing?' I asked.
'Hunky-dory' he replied curtly.
'Eugene, do you not wanna talk about what happened yesterday?' I asked confused by his manner.
'I have a good set up here, Negan gave me a large bedroom and a jar of pickles. I must concur I am satisfied' he said lightly.
I shot him a frown. 'He what?' I said, my voice getting louder.
'Yup, safe to say he has made me very comfortable. Looks like I am Negan after all, just like you' he said now looking at me.
I scowled, 'I am not, nor will I ever be Negan. Why the hell are you?!' I shouted, he became more nervous now.
'I am grateful to be alive Molly. Being useful, it's one of life's greatest pleasures' he said now fiddling with casings.
'How much do you really know about these?' I said, taking a deep breath and picking one up and admiring it.
'A fair amount' he responded.
'So...you could accidentally make some that don't work?' I whispered looking at him slyly. He looked up at me, shocked.
'I can't let anyone else die Eugene' I pleaded.
'Negan will inspect every one' he replied.
'Then hide them, do anything, I don't care. I don't want to kill him, I just need him stopped and I can't do that without you Eugene' I begged.
He looked me over before saying, 'I am Negan. I will not betray him' and then asked me to leave.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing so I just stared at him in shock for a couple of seconds before I dazily walked out of the room. Eugene was a coward but he was not an idiot, so I couldn’t believe that in less than a day he was already on Negan’s side. So, it looked like I would have to stop Negan myself and seeing my sister motivated me to do whatever that it took...
#negan x original female character#negan#negan imagine#twd fanfiction#twd negan#slowburn#twd#thewalkingdead#negan fanfiction#jdm#twdromance#fanfiction#negan's thirst squad#mollychambler#rick grimes#carl grimes#twd judith#negans lucille tblr#slow build
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