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quixotic-writer · 4 years

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Letting Loose

Song inspo: fuck away the pain/one night stand — divide the day

Summary: After breaking up with your boyfriend and kicking him out you begrudgingly head out for work at the bar. After talking it up with Q for a while, you decide tonight’s your night of fun and you invite him over, he gladly accepts and is willing to do anything to help relieve your tension.

Warning: Kinky smut ahead!!!

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“Get the FUCK out of MY house.” I threw his suitcase of clothes out of the second story window and watched it fall onto the lawn with a loud thump that echoed through the whole neighborhood. I turn around to look at Devin and I glared at him. He smirked and walked towards me with open arms.

“C’mon baby, you know I didn’t mean it.” He places his lips on mine and I shove him off, reel back my hand, and give him a hearty open palm slap across his cheek. “Ow! What the hell!?”

“First off: don’t ‘baby’ me, i’m over the charms. Second: The HELL do you mean you didn’t mean it? Did you not think when you ‘accidentally’ slipped your dick into her? Huh, Devin?” He continues rubbing his cheek and I feel proud of myself knowing that’ll leave a nice mark for him to explain. “I am dead serious this time. Get out, stay out. I see you back here EVER again and i’m calling the cops.” I point to the door for him to leave the room. With a moment’s hesitation he finally leaves, I watch from the window as he picks up the suitcase and drag it all the way to his car like the sad sap he is. His guilt tripping won’t work on me this time, and i’m pretty sure he notices that because he finally turns around to look at me through the window with a scowl.

“You’re a needy bitch. No one will ever put up with you like I did!” He yells before stepping into his car. I didn’t say anything back, just slammed the window closed and turned my back. He wasn’t worth another breath out of me. I slump down onto the bed face down and scream into the pillow. I don’t understand how I forgave him for cheating on me last time, I should’ve known he would have done it again. I was so naïve and stupid.

I continue mentally beating myself up and seethe in my own rage. My skin feels like it’s boiling and I have a tension in my head that feels like there’s a stretched rubber band on the verge of snapping. I don’t know whether or not I want to murder someone, break something, or just find a stranger and fuck them out of spite of my now tarnished relationship.

“Fuck.” I said out loud as I realized I had work tonight down at the bar at 3, I look over at the clock on my nightstand that read 1:00 in red neon numbers. I really don’t want to go especially with the range of emotions I was experiencing, but I had already called out of work so many times this month. If I called out one more time my boss would either hate me or fire me, I really don’t need the second one happening especially because now i’ll be taking on the rent by myself. Even with Devin around, he only paid for the bare minimum so not too much would be changing except a few additional shifts down at the bar. The epiphany of his bullshit only made me even angrier.

I soaked in the tub for a bit to get cleaned up for work and ease my tension just a bit. I take in the scent of lavender and carnations, close my eyes, and gently float my hands through the sudsy waters. It helped a little, but I could feel my nerve endings firing off in annoyance still feeling ready to pounce at any moment. Anything happens at work tonight and I won’t hesitate to give someone a piece of my mind, i’m so not in the mood to be dealing with bullshit of any kind.

I drive over to work blasting some metal music to try and release some of my anger by screaming along. Once I step through the door, I can already get a sense of how this shift is gonna go. It wasn’t a negative energy, but it wasn’t a positive energy either. It was just gonna be the same old same old kind of shift where nothing really happens. Though it’d be boring, i’d rather have that over a high energy night.

“Girl, maybe it’s just me, but your RBF is looking extra intimidating today.” Trin says from behind the counter. I sigh and roll my eyes.

“I’m not rolling my eyes at you. It’s fucking Devin.” Her eyes light up and her eyebrows flick up.

“Please tell me...”

“Yup. I’m over it. This time for good, i’m tired of being his play thing.” She gives me a big hug and is jumping a little as she holds me.

“Finally! He looked like he was dipped in fryer grease anyway. Now you just need to get something else good, and you know that one regular we have is kinda cute. What’s his name again?” She taps me with her elbow a couple of times and I laugh it off. I know who exactly she’s talking about, but I try to avoid giving her the satisfaction of giving out his name as I continue washing glasses behind the counter. “Quinn! That’s his name!” So much for avoiding that.

“His name’s actually Brian, but Quinn suits him better. Yeah he’s cute but why would he want me? Also doesn’t it seem kind of bad to rebound like that immediately after throwing my ex out?” I wasn’t going to deny that Q was cute, but i’d just feel bad using him as a rebound.

“Well first off, I think you’re a smoking hot piece of work that was too god for your ex. Second, you don’t seem sad about losing him, just mad that he was a dick that wasted your time and energy. Why not live for yourself a little and let loose?” She shrugs and goes back to serving drinks and making small talk with customers. She’s kind of right, I didn’t miss Devin and I wasn’t sad about losing him, I was just sad that I willingly allowed myself to be played and manipulated. Her words lingered in my ears as I continued working.

The afternoon slowly bleeds into the evening, it’s Tuesday so all our patrons are taking things slow and easy. It was a perfect pace for me to work at. Not too much work and bullshit, but just enough stuff to do to keep my mind occupied. Trin eventually clocks out for the evening and in her place one of our newbies, Trey, clocks in. It was perfect because I made him do most of the work to get a handle of how the ropes work in the bar. Seniority had its perks. I gossip with a few bar goers as they tell me their stories of their shit office jobs or complain about the typical New York traffic.

“There’s my second favorite bartender!” I turn my head as a deep voice thick with an accent diverts my attention away from one of my customers. There was Q, sitting himself at the counter smiling like a goof ball to me.

“Second favorite is all I get Quinn?” I say with a twinge of sass in my voice. “Shot of Jameson i’m guessing for the big boy to start off his night?” I lean over the bar and I notice his eyes take a quick peek at my slightly exposed cleavage that spilled from my tank top.

“You know it! Besides, you know my buddy Sal will always be at the top as far as bartending goes.” I get his drink ready and slide it over to him. He raises the glass to me with a smirk before he downs it in a swift gulp. I unknowingly stare at him with a slight glimmer in my eyes and he quickly catches me. “Staring’s rude y’know, sweetheart. Could I just get a nice brew also, please?” He says sliding the shot glass back over to me.

“Could say the same for you, Quinn.” I retort back going to clean up some of the dishes and serve up other drink to the few others surrounding him at the bar. I pour him his drink and set it down in front of him with a slight sneer.

“Someone’s on edge today. Been coming here long enough to know when something’s up with you.” The ring band he wears on his middle finger taps against his glass as he awaits a response to his query. My emotions are showing a bit too much tonight and I loathe myself for it, I always held myself to a standard to keep my private life hidden and not allow it to affect my performance at work.

“That obvious?” I say feeling guilty that I may have unintentionally taken some anger out on him. He chuckles a bit and leans in closer, resting his elbows on the counter top in anticipation to see if i’ll play along any further. “I’ll spare you the woeful details of my pitiful heartbreak if I can even call it that. Long story short: Boyfriend cheated and I got his sorry ass out of there.” He has a shocked look on his face and seems as though maybe he shouldn’t have asked. I cackle at his reaction.

“And you still came to work? That’s harder than any shot of whiskey i’ve ever done.” He rakes his hands through his hair as he sits back to process the information. I stare at his arms and his tattoos and his thick fingers. And I, for a second, imagined what it felt like if he held me close with those arms, what they’d feel like gripping my waist. Maybe Trin was right, maybe I need to let loose and have some fun all for myself.

“You know, I may be mad, but i’m sure as hell happy i’m not with him anymore. I’ve been over him for a while to tell you the truth, love was long out the door. He was so restricting it was ridiculous. Can’t wear this, can’t go there, blah blah blah. Don’t know why I put up with it for as long as I did or why I stuck around knowing I didn’t even love him anymore.” I say recalling all the stupid rules Devin had for me. I couldn’t wear anything ‘too revealing’ because it’ll attract ‘negative attention’ and he’ll be ‘embarrassed.’ I couldn’t go to certain places without him, it was all so manipulative because he could do whatever he wanted. If it wasn’t the cheating, the stupid rules would have been the next thing to make me want to dismember him.

“Let me buy you a shot sweetheart.” He slides some money over the counter and I graciously accept, i’d love a little buzz to get through this shift. “Cheers to getting him out of your life. You didn’t deserve that shit. No one does.” Sympathy. That’s something I haven’t seen a guy display in a while towards me. He raises his glass to me with a soft look in his puppy dog eyes and it made my heart feel full. I smile and raise my shot glass before downing the liquid that burns my esophagus as it travels down.

The night carries on, Q and I continue hitting it off and chat the night away in the dreadfully slow bar. We both get bolder and bolder and a little more flirtatious as the time passes. When I look over to the clock overhead, I notice my time in the bar is close to its expiration and even closer to a sense of newfound freedom. I eye Q up and down and I hear Trin’s voice echoing in the back of my head: let loose a little.

“So, Quinn, I’d love to continue this conversation and hang with you more after my shift is over. Maybe go to my place?” We both know where an invitation like this could lead, I chew on my bottom lip a little hoping to he says the words I want so badly to hear tonight. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips and then I knew my wish was going to be granted.

“Thought you’d never ask sweetheart.” His fingers trace the rim of his empty glass and I feel my heart start to pound out of my chest. Every time he called me ‘sweetheart,’ it hit me in a whole new way. I go to clock out of work and wish an easy night to my coworkers before officially heading out. Q follows me out and we walk towards the parking lot.

“Shall I drive? I only had one shot and it has long worn off already.” I offer to Q. He hadn’t had much to drink, only a shot or two and a beer and I know he can handle his liquor pretty well, but i’d rather play it safe and be the designated driver for the evening.

“That would be much appreciated since i’m a little intoxicated, also because I have no clue where you live.” He jokes around. We both hop into my car and my music blasts through the speakers. It wasn’t just any music either, it was my Slipknot CD, the one I listen to when i’m especially mad. We both jump at the sudden cacophony of noise and I quickly bolt to turn down the volume. “That tells me exactly how pissed off you were earlier!” He chuckles and I cover my mouth in shame, speechless that the guy i’m trying to swoon just heard the hell that I listen to.

“This is the only thing I have in, I hope you don’t mind.” I can feel my face turning red.

“That’s fine, I don’t mind and i’d love to listen to something a little different for once.” I turn the volume back on and we start to head over to my house. The whole way there as we talked about nonsense, I could see Q out of the corner of my eye head banging to the music, and it eased my nerves in a weird way. Sharing music with someone is a deep form of intimacy to me, seeing someone enjoy what I play is something that fills me with no greater joy. As I catch occasional glances at him, the way the street lights illuminated his face and framed his features just made him seem even more attractive.

We pull into my driveway and I guide Q into my now quiet home. He seats himself on my couch and I mix up a glass of rum and coke for the two of us. I hand him his drink and take a seat right next to him. It was then where he really wanted to get into the nitty gritty of my recent relationship status update.

“So he had rules for what you could wear, where you could go, what you could do? Sounds like the jabberings of someone who’s insecure if you ask me.” He sips his drink. The amount of disgust Q has for the actions of my ex is so reassuring that i’m not crazy.

“Had I not been working tonight, I would have broken every single stupid rule he had for me. Especially the one about what I can wear, that one bugged me the most.” I had a whole outfit saved hidden away in the closet that I had kept secret. I had a sneaking feeling that things would have come to a messy end and bought it out of spite.

“I would kill to see you in it.” Seems as though he’s following in suit with my energy and he’s on the same page as I am. He looks me up and down and slides a hand on my thigh, I already feel my motor revving to go.

“Why leave it to the imagination when I could just give you a show?” His eyes flicker like a candle and I can feel his desires radiating off of his warm skin. I quickly hop up and disappear into my room. In my drawers I find my black lace lingerie that framed and clung to my body in the perfect ways sensing the outfit wouldn’t stay on for too long. Next in the closet I fish around for the wine red velvet halter crop top and the black pencil skirt I had stashed away. As the cherry on top on completed it all with the black platform heels I had.

I step down stairs and Q quietly takes in the view. I slowly walk closer towards him and stop as soon as i’m in front of him between his spread legs.

“Didn’t you know staring is rude, Quinn?” He’s clearly taken aback and I can see him struggling to keep it together. I straddle him and his hands feel over the curve of my ass and venture towards my hips where they rest. He stares in awe at the goods I have on display until he makes eye contact. Those chocolate brown eyes could tell a whole story, and I could never get tired of it. I bring our faces closer and lock our lips together in a deep kiss. “If we’re gonna be having fun tonight, we’re playing by my rules tonight.” I say in a dominating tone. It was my turn to have my way.

“If that’s what you want sweetheart, use me as you wish, call the shots tonight.” I devilishly smile as the sinful thoughts and ideas begin to pour into my head and I feel myself growing wet at the scenarios that play in my mind. Without another word, I take Q by his hand and drag him upstairs to the bedroom. I throw him on the bed and he throws his shirt off.

“So what are your limits Quinn? Ever been tied up? Blindfolded? Teased?” I say as my finger tips trace along his inner thighs, he groans a little at my touch.

“Kinky tonight aren’t we?” I remove my shirt and skirt to reveal the lingerie hidden underneath and go to grab some special items from deep within the closet. “I can handle anything you give me. But just in case, my safe-word is pumpernickel.” I stop in my tracks and try to stifle a laugh.

“Interesting word, but I will be sure to remember it. Now let’s get you out of those restricting pants.” I tug at his belt and remove his pants to reveal the tent that was hidden in his boxers. I rub him through the thing fabric and watch as he screws his eyes shut. “Oh you have no idea what you’re in for now Quinn. This hard already and i’ve barely even touched you.” I bring out the scarf I had and tie his wrists together and tie them up to the head board of the bed, leaving Q vulnerable and open. As a final piece, I place the blindfold over his eyes.

“I’m not allowed to see that smoking hot bod of yours? Now this is torture.” For a moment I look over his body, needy with lust filled desire and it’s eye candy to me. He restrains against the bondage around his wrists and his muscles flex for a moment and I feel myself pulsate at the sight. I lean in close to his ear, the fun begins now.

“Oh darling, there’s much more coming to you.” I crawl between his legs and rub over his sizable bulge and watch as his breath hitches and his body twitches at the sensation. “You tell me when you’re close no matter what, if you cum too soon you’ll be punished. Don’t be afraid to make as much noise as you want, i’d love to hear what dirty noises come out of you. Never be afraid of using your safe-word, I may be in control but your well being still matters to me. Got it?” He whimpers underneath my touch.

“Yes, please continue it feels so fucking good.” I smirk as his mouth falls open letting his steamy hot breath escape. I lay a few kisses above the band of his boxers before taking the waist band in my teeth and slowly pulling them down to free his dick that stands at full attention before me. I quickly grab the hitachi wand from my toys and turn it on, a low humming sound fills the room and Q tenses up below me. I tease him a little and trace it along his inner thighs and just around his cock, but never touching it. “Please do something. Anything. I’m so hard please.” I smile because hearing him beg is truly a spectacle and something I wish I could hear all the time. His wish is my command and I place the the wand just below the head of his cock and his back arches off the bed and his fists clench above his head grabbing at the scarf to brace himself for the overwhelming and heightened sensation of pleasure that washes over him.

“Oh shit. God. Please more that feels so good.” I start running it up and down his length and watch as his hips convulse aching for more friction. “I’m close, holy fuck i’m close.” He confesses between moans and I quickly remove the toy and his dick twitches in attempts to find friction to chase the high it craves. Q whines at the loss of pleasure and it’s music to my ears.

“Not just yet. I haven’t even stripped down yet.” I remove my bra and panties and sit on top of Q’s hard on. I grind my hips and feel as his cock rubs against the folds of my dripping wet pussy. “Mmm~” A low hum falls out of my mouth because I know i’m in for quite a ride. He feels so thick and hard outside of my body in this moment, I could only imagine what it’d feel like inside of me. “How bad do you wanna cum?” I say teasing him in a pouty voice and all he can do is let out unintelligible babbles. “That’s not an answer Quinn.” I lift myself up and his groans only get louder and his feet kick at the sheets on the bed at the once again lost friction.

“Please I wanna cum so bad, let me cum please.” I travel up his body until my navel hangs above his mouth, I can feel his steaming breath blowing on me and it only excites me more.

“Show me how bad.” I lower myself down and the moment he realizes what’s going on he quickly gets to work lapping up really fast at whatever his tongue could reach. “Fuck Q that feels so good.” I moan out to let him know he’s doing a good job. I lavish in the sensation of the wet warmth of his tongue plunging into me and circling around my clit, humming to add vibrations, hitting all my most sensitive spots. This man knew how to please a lady. I start grinding my hips to help him out a little as I feel my climax slowly beginning to approach. “I’m gonna cum Q keep fucking sucking on my clit like that.” Like a dog he quickly obeys and gives my wanted attention to my throbbing clit as he bites gently, sucks, and licks it I feel myself come undone and tremble through my high with a drawn out groan.

I decided he’s had enough torture and go to remove the blindfold. He quickly blinks his eyes a couple of times to adjust to the dimly lit room after having that sense taken away. I lean down and kiss his lips that are soaked in my juices, moaning as I taste the liquid ecstasy, tongues tangles together in desperation. He hums back and I pull away to trail kisses from his jawline, to his neck, down to his chest, lower and lower until i’m met with his hard on that is leaking with a need for attention. I lick up whatever pre-cum resided on the tip and look up as he watches breathlessly.

“What’s wrong Quinn, cat got your tongue?”

“Quite the opposite. Bitch got my dick.” My eyes go wide and there’s no stopping the ugly laugh that escapes my mouth. It totally ruined the sexy dominating attitude I had going this whole evening but it was comical and swift on his part.

“Shut up that was terrible.” I say, still giggling a little bit. He gives a cocky smile in return.

“Make me.” Those were words he was soon going to mistake. I plunge down and take his whole cock into my mouth with my nose bouncing against his stomach. “Oh fuck!” He yells out at the suddenness of me taking him in. It sure did get him to stop talking as he dissolved into nothing but a moaning mess which only made me wet all over again. With each bob I take, I feel his hips start to match rhythms and start pounding against my face reaching in deeper as his tip hits the back of my throat and I gag a little. “I’m so close please let me cum dammit!” He cries out as the thrusts of his hips begins to falter but never losing power and I feel his dick twitch in my mouth. Just to torture him a little more, I slide him out of my mouth and back away so he falls away from the high he was so close to. “Please no, not again.”

“Just a little longer darling, all good things come to those who wait.” I straddle him again, but this time I line him up with my entrance, teasing myself as I rub his tip along my folds a little. I sink down slowly and Q’s mouth falls open and his head falls back at the sensation of finally being inside of me. I decided to reward him a little and lean up and remove the scarf that bounds his wrists. “Since you’ve been so good.” I say with a smirk. I slowly start to bounce my hips and feel as he slides in and out of me, hitting all the right spots that make it feel as though electricity is shooting out of every pore. Q’s hands grip at my hips so hard that I think that it might bruise, but it felt good and I knew I had built him up for so long tonight already.

In desperation and relishing the taste of his freedom, he starts slamming hard up into me and I knew he was close but he wasn’t going to say. Just as soon as he thought he had his way again, I tripped that thought away by stopping my movements and using my weight to hold his hips down against the mattress.

“Were you not going to tell me you were getting close?” He tries to use his hands to move my hips, but I wasn’t going to budge. I can feel him twitching like crazy in me and judging by his face he looks as though he’s going to be seeing beyond the stars when he finally releases all i’ve made him pent up. “Beg for it.”

“Sweetheart please i’m so close, this is the third time. You feel so good around me and I just want to cum.” The way he said sweetheart in a sad needy tone just made my heart melt. I release the weight I had on him and a fire ignites behind his eyes. He grabs my waist to hold me in place as he desperately thrusts into me getting faster and faster. I cum for a second time without warning as Q continues pounding into me relentlessly with feverish intent. I feel so oversensitive and i’m hunched over, leaning on top of Q as I whine from the overstimulation. It all came to a quick close with a final hard thrust he releases what felt like endless hot spurts of cum into me with a loud continuous throaty groan.

Finally we both lay there breathless and exhausting from what felt like the best sex i’ve had in ages.

“I haven’t had sex like that in a while.” I tell him as I push the now knotted, sweat drenched hair away from my face.

“I don’t think i’ve had sex like that ever. I don’t usually play sub, something about you got me down on my knees. Wanted you to have your fun.” I felt proud of myself for taking on the role, it felt empowering and a lot more satisfying. I could get used to this. “Y’know, I hope this isn’t just a one night stand because i’d kinda like to take you to a movie.”

“I think i’d like that a lot Quinn.” I say smiling and looking into the mocha puppy dog eyes that had me hooked from the start. Just when I had thought i’d have no chance throwing myself back into the dating ring, the universe drops the most unexpected twists into the tale. My twist: my favorite regular at the bar.

#This was really self indulgent and really long!!#brian quinn #q #brian q quinn #brian quinn imagine #brian x reader #q x reader #smut #suki writes

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 4 years

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Thought about something cute like reader and 5sos singing on the same festival and she’s dating cal 😭 and they switch with her guitarist and drummer boy and at first she didn’t notice but they they start to have so much fun together at the stage dancing together and doing stupid shit them following her around as she tries to prevent herself from giggling too much and actually singing 🥺🥺 and later she walks down when 5sos are performing with crystal Kay and Sierra omg 😳

+ I’m sorry I’m annoying but part two to my last asks!! I just imagine calum being all heart eyes for her minding his own business tho playing his guitar but every time he doesn’t have to use vocals or his bass he caught her hand or keep her close and ahh singing wildflower to her!!’ When at first the girls just wanted to have fun on stage with them but Calum just keeps her close the whole time singing to her and her singing back with him and being all funny and giggly together ooof

Thanks for your suggestion! It took me a minute to get to it. I did combine it with a few other suggestions. One person asked for drama and someone asked for angst. And viola! Here it is.

This is the last part of the Distance series! I’ll do an epilogue if folks want to send in some suggestions for it! HUGE thanks to everyone that sent me ideas! This series wouldn’t be what is it without you guys!

Find the Distance series masterlist here! Here’s my main masterlist! CW: 18+ (Smut). Angst. Lots of Fluff.

Songs I played: Woman and From The Dining Table by Harry Styles!

Here it is at a WHOOPINg 9.6k. Enjoy!

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The release of her album is followed by a tour. At first, she’s excited. Her mind runs wild with possibilities. Her fingers can’t keep up fast enough with every wonder and question she sends to Calum and thankfully, he doesn’t seem to mind the incessant buzzing. He takes each question in stride. It’s nice, in a way, for him to have the wisdom to give her. Like she doesn’t have to go in blind like he did, especially since it’s just her. He hopes he can make her feel a little less alone on the road. It can be a hard road to travel alone.

The glimmer starts to wear off fast. Rehearsals turn her into a zombie. She’s up fairly early stretching, taking her dog for a walk, trying to remind herself that everything’s going to fall into place like it needs to, but the second she walks into the rehearsal space it feels like everything is going to fall apart. That somehow everything she’s ever wanted on tour is just too much, too much out of the budget, too much because she doesn’t have the weight to her name just yet. And maybe it’s a lot of glitz and glamour. Maybe she is asking for too much. Maybe that would be her downfall.

Her phone buzzes. And she pauses, sitting on the floor with her mic in hand, and glances over to it. It’s Calum again. Another message that she won’t actually read until some ungodly hour in the night. He’s got to be up to his throat in worry. She can’t seem to think enough to text him back during the day. Too much is going on. She feels like she’s going to sink, just through the carpeted floor and through the concrete foundation and bury herself into the dirt. Maybe that would be a better fate for her.

She turns her attention back to her notebook, with the crude drawing she made when she was trying to set the stage. “Let’s just,” she sighs. “Let’s start from scratch.”

And it works. Though it’s long and arduous, she’s able to figure out how to set the stage, finalizing the neon design. There’s a rough draft at the video that will be playing behind her for a wardrobe change. By the time she’s able to crawl into her sheets, it’s nearly 1 am. There’s barely enough energy to keep her eyes open to send Calum an apology text. When she wakes, she grins at her dog waiting patiently at the side of her bed. “Ready to go, bubs?”

They give a tiny whine and rest their snout on the covers. She laughs, “Yeah, you’re ready to go.” She manages to brush her teeth and slips into a change of clothes before going out for a run.

Between showering and getting dressed, she checks her messages. Happy to hear that you got things straightened, baby. Reach out whenever you get a breather, reads the text from Calum.

She responds with a good morning text and then switches over to her email. At the top is an email with ‘urgent’ in the subject. She’s praying it’s not more bad news. She doesn’t quite have the heart to withstand more bad news after the progress they made yesterday. It’s details about a festival date in LA. That perfectly lines between her break between the European leg of the tour and the North America dates. She doesn’t even think twice about agreeing to the festival show.

Right as her day winds down, from a shockingly smooth day of rehearsals, Calum calls her. And though she’s drenched in sweat from the light choreography and running it for hours, she stops and answers. “Hey, baby.”

“Oh, she lives!”

“I know, I know. Sorry.”

“Only kidding. I know you’re hard at work. It’s just really good to hear your voice. How are rehearsals?”

“Really good now. Once we got over the hump, it’s like smooth sailing.”

“Good, I’m glad. I was calling. We got word a couple days ago about a festival show right when you’re on break between legs. And I was hoping you had some free time, just to hang out.”

She can’t contain the smile, leaning her head against the window. The evening twilight has already settled outside. “I’m joining that festival too. And we’ll be hanging out in LA for a few days for rehearsals and then shipping out. So absolutely, we can hang out. I miss your face. And Duke. God, I miss Duke.”

He laughs. Of course she emphasizes her longing for his dog over him. But he wouldn’t have it any other way. “I really can’t wait to see you.” It falls from his lips in a whisper, a secret between the two of them that no one else can be in on. But the boys see it. Everytime his phone buzzes he does his best to look at it as soon as he can just in case it’s her. It’s harder to get out of bed, especially when he hasn’t talked to her in a while. “Can’t wait to kiss you again.”

“You’re a sap, you know.”

“But I’m your sap.”

She giggles, softly, watching cars whizz by. “Yeah, you are my sap.”

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Her tour starts off well. And even though it’s her first time being out on the road like this, a constant bouncing around, and completely flipping her normal routine, she manages to cope pretty well. And it helps of course when she calls her friends, or talks to her dog. But it’s still definitely draining, pouring every bit of herself out on stage and then having just enough time to recoup before doing it all over again. There’s value in it, when the lights lift, and she can see the crowd that’s gathered just for her. It’s surreal and makes her feel like she could do this all the time. That the only thing she’d ever need is the sound of a crowd singing her songs back to her.

In her dressing room, she swaps the gold earrings for a pair of acrylic ones, these jade green. “You’re too quiet on me,” she says, flicking her gaze down to her tablet.

Calum picks his head up. “It’s hard to say much when perfection’s staring you in the face.”

She grins, hooking the earring back on. “Thank you, but that’s not what I meant.”

“We just got word about two more festivals in the same week you have your break. One’s in LA still, the other one’s a little ways out.” There’s no need to fake the funk anymore, or hide it away. She has another three weeks of shows before her break. And maybe he expects her to fly off the handle. Maybe he expects her to throw a fit, about how they had made plans, and it’s the only time they’ll get for each other for months.

But she doesn’t. She nods, fingers twirling over her rings. “What are they others saying?”

“They’re itching to get back on stage. And from a business standpoint, it’s money in the pocket of course. But I know we made plans and I feel like an ass. But there’s also the band, too.”

“Our jobs aren’t easy,” she sighs. “Take the gigs.” Calum can see her eyes tearing up just a little. “Mind if tag along on the LA show?”

“Of course not. I’m really, really sorry, buttercup. I’m so sorry.”

She waves her hand, trying to keep the tears back. If they fall, they become real. It’s his job. Just like it’s hers. “I get it.” It’s tight as it leaves her throat. And it takes her a second, plus a few sips of water to get control of her emotions, and clear out all the tears that threaten to fall. He wishes he could say more, or do more. But it’s like the words die in his throat. And he’s left, mouth gaping, wishing and wanting, but unable to do anything.

“Does it look bad if I just forgo my heels tonight from the start? They’re killing my feet on stage,” she laughs.

It’s a small grin, upturns a corner of his mouth but doesn’t keep it up for long. “You usually end up kicking them off anyway, halfway through the show.”

“Someone’s been scrolling through my name on Twitter, huh?”

He does. Watching her is mesmerizing and he’s sad that he can’t get the chance to see it in person, so he resorts to the fan videos. But he’s yet to admit to it. “I do not do such a thing.” And there’s giggles. A fit of laughter as she looks over the outfits and plucks her oversize denim jacket and figures even in the shorts, she can make the docs Calum surprised her with work. So she slides into the worn red leather shoes and starts lacing them up.

Calum whistles, heart racing just a little. He didn’t know those shoes had made the cut. “Look at you.”

She strikes a pose but laughs. “Do I look good?”

“You look fucking amazing, buttercup.”

__________________________

The sound of the crowd roaring before her ears turn on will always make her heart race. Calum said he would try to sneak side stage, but considering that he had to play on the mainstage right after her set on the side stage, it might not be for long. She didn’t mind that. But she hadn’t seen him. Not a blond crop in sight, of course if he hasn’t changed his hair since the last time. Her bassist strums the opening cord and it sends the crowd into a tizzy. With her guitar strapped around, she rolls out her neck, lining up.

As they walk out onto the stage, they launch right into the first song. She feels her fingers buzzing as she strums. But it feels good. The LA sun is hot but she kind of welcomes it versus the heat of the stage lights. There’s still a small breeze. It comes in waves for sure and she can tell that her pits are going to be soaked by song three. “How’s everybody doing?” she shouts into the mic.

There’s cheer in response and she laughs, hearing it reverb for just a moment. “That’s what I like to hear. Just want to say thank you for coming to see me play today. Your support truly means a lot to me.”

She continues on for just a few more seconds and right as she goes to introduce the fourth song of her set, everyone in the crowd starts to get rowdy. She thinks nothing of it, as the song starts. But she knows something is happening and she turns to check her drummer and in her spin, there’s Calum, her bassist’s bass slung over his shoulder, fingers sliding over the frets, plucking at the strings. Not that she doesn’t think Calum would go for a mint green bass on his own, but she hasn’t seen one in his collection just yet.

If it weren’t for the verse coming back up, she knows she would just stare. Singing into her mic, she throws a few glances over to him. Waiting as the harmony comes in and Calum slides up to the music, voice smooth in her inner ears, she almost melts right there on the spot. She hadn’t quite thought about the way his voice would sound with hers, but god, he harmonizes like an angel. She finishes the verse, with a small break before the chorus again. The stage is kind of small but while facing the crowd, she can’t quite see to her sides.

She knows though. She can almost sense when Calum approaches her. She giggles just a little into the mic, watching him smile at her. His head bobbing like it always does when he gets into whatever he’s playing or listening too. Calum plays next to her, watching the way the sweat trails down her forehead, but doesn’t streak an ounce of her makeup. He almost gives in, almost bends in to kiss her on the cheek, but he doesn’t. He lets her voice and the song carry him away, into his spin and up to the drummer’s stand. One foot on the riser, Calum bobs along, laughing at his expression, the raised eyebrow that says it all.

She gets a small break to watch the way Calum interacts with her band. Almost as if he’s known them just as long as she has. And in some ways, he probably has. She talks about Calum to them and talks about her band to Calum all the time. Once the song ends, Calum throws one hand in a tiny wave, before smiling over at her. “Didn’t scare you, did I?” he asks, away from the mic.

She shakes her head, sure that her cheeks will hurt after this. Laughing, she thanks Calum as he walks off stage. And she knows, she knows she shouldn’t. But she jogs after him, as her bassist comes back on, sending a smile over her shoulder too. It’s in that moment that it becomes clear, this was planned. Catching Calum right in the wings, she catches his wrist, tugging him in close before kissing him. It’s quick, but Calum’s heart races in his chest. She runs back out. “Sorry about that guys. I did not expect that.”

And as they get back to their set, Calum watches her for one more song, the way she dances around the stage. Their gazes lock just before he leaves and he blows a quick kiss, before his security are running him down the stage steps and across the festival grounds to get back to the mainstage in time. “How’d it go?” Michael asks.

“Well,” Calum grins, throwing his brown and black bass over his shoulder.

“Get any smooches?” Luke teases, smacking his lips together, while his arm is slung over Sierra’s shoulder.

“And if I did?”

“On stage?” Michael screeches.

“No, side stage. I almost kissed her on stage. But I didn’t want that all over the internet.” Considering that they aren’t official publically in any capacity, it would just cause more headache. Their set begins and Calum knows she has to run across the festival, so he’s not worried when by the time they step out and get three songs in, she hasn’t shown up at the side of the stage. And by the time, Calum regains consciousness enough to check again, there she is, standing off to the side, still in what she performed and breathing hard but she waves, gently from the side.

Out of reflex, once the chords are played, he gives a small wave in return. She returns the blown kiss from earlier and the other girls laugh softly at the action. “God, you guys are so fucking smitten with each other, it’s insane,” Sierra jokes.

There’s no denying it she knows. They’re like lovesick puppies and though it would normally annoy her, it’s nice. Without another word, she sips at her bottle of water and watches Calum, with all the laughs and grins he gives, pouring his soul out onto the stage.

And though the video calls, and the calls, work. They’re not quite enough. Her tour comes to an end, but just around the corner is Calum’s tour with the band. She think she might be able to sneak another week away before she starts working on her album, but then she gets asked to perform at some more festivals in her home country. And, who is she to turn that down? The more shows she plays, the more her name is out there, the more streams, and the merchandise is purchased. It becomes an endless wheel. Things just keep going, and going, and going and the whole time, she keeps looking for the breaks. For the thing that can put her life on pause and let her feel normal again.

Everytime she thinks she can get real time with Calum, it ends up short. He has something that comes up. She has something that comes in. It was the festival in LA and now her festival run. It’s his tour and her sophomore album. Why had she met Calum when she did? Was the universe playing a cruel joke on her? Was it taunting her that it could give her everything she wanted and then threatening to have it crumble? Sitting her hotel room, her phone shakes, another call from Calum. She doesn’t answer it, staring at the fridge in her room. She could get a drink. Wouldn’t be hard just take it from the mini fridge.

Her phone stops shaking. And then a minute later, it chimes, letting her know that a voice message has been left behind. The third one and more likely than not it’s from Calum. She wants this. She wants the relationship, but lately, it felt like there was no time. There was no time for anything. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t pause. And that’s all she wanted. That’s all she wants right now. She doesn’t want to open that voicemail to Calum pleading with her to answer. She wants to get back to when things were easier. And obviously, they were easier because they both had nothing to do.

Swiping her room key and her wallet, she heads down to the bar in the hotel. She orders herself a glass of wine. The glass makes a soft click as it settles down in front of her. She takes one sip. And it’s a little bitter, the red drier than she remembers it being. Soon the glass stares back at her and she can see her warped reflection. Would it just be easier for them to take things down a level? Is she afraid of hard work or more afraid of heartache?

With another two glasses of wine in her, she climbs back into the elevator and it takes her up, floor by floor until it digs and the doors slide open. The room is dark when she reenters like she left it the AC blasting. But she can see the blue light of her phone, on the desk, lighting up that corner of the room. Is it fair? If she wants to bolt, if she wants to cut ties so it makes things so much easier for them? Why couldn’t it be easy?

Calum’s sure he’s going to pull all his hair out. One moment, things are going good. They get a little tight for sure with their schedules never quite lining up to allow them more time together. But this is the third day in a row that he’s gone with nothing from her. No texts, not a returned call. Not even a meme in their Twitter thread. Nothing on her finsta. Her regular account post mainly about her upcoming shows. But he is as closed to being blocked without actually being blocked.

“Hey, I-I don’t know if something’s gone wrong. But please, please call me back. Or text me. Or send me a voice message. Something. Anything. Please? If I did anything, please let know what it was? I’m worried. Am I losing you?”

He ends the recording and sends it. Maybe he ought to stop reaching out so much. Should he wait for her to respond before sending more? But he doesn’t want to lose her? He doesn’t want to lose what they have. He hasn’t found it with anyone else in all his searching and even in his not searching. This fell into his lap and he can’t stand to lose it. Not when there had to be something to do to save it.

His phone sits for another day and half before she calls. He hands shake as he goes to answer it. He almost doesn’t want to answer it. His vegetable stir fry even threatens to come back up his throat. It’s not even burnt this time. But somewhere in his mind, somewhere deep, he had figured she wouldn’t ever call him back. He would be cursed to always wonder what went wrong. “Hey,” he breathes as he answers the call.

“Hey.” It’s croaky, like she might’ve been crying. And then it’s silent. Neither one of them are sure how to bring it up. Neither of them know how to ask what’s lingering between the two of them seems almost too much for words.

“Did I do something?”

“No,” she sighs. It would be easier if he had. It would be easier if she had. It would be easier if both of them were just bad for each other. “It’s just hard.”

“Talk to me. Let me in. We can figure it out.”

That’s the whole crux of her issue. She had let Calum in. She had let him so far in that it was starting to seem impossible to stay in her country and work. She had let him so far in that she wasn’t sure it would be possible to go months without seeing him properly. He was in everything, her bookshelves, her closet, her studio, her lyrics, her studio, in her sheets. Everything reminded her of him. And it just hurt in a way that she didn’t think being in love could hurt. In her silence, Calum continues on, “Let me look at something.” He scrolls through the emails, looking at the dates.

“How? How do we figure it out? On your tour, the only break you have in my country I’m in promo. And after that, you only get a day here or there. Everything’s so mismatched now.”

Calum blinks the tears that are stinging at his lower lash line. “Something’s gonna give.” Something has to give. There has to be something. Calum goes back to emails. What would be the magic code for them?

“I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

His throat jumps at her words, heart racing. “No, don’t say that. If you say that, I know what comes next.”

“Maybe it would just be easier, Calum.”

He is sick of it. Sick of things always blowing up in his face. But he can’t make her do something. He can’t make her take the words back, even if he wants her too. “We said there was an us.” It’s not accusorary as it falls from his lips. It just hurts. Things were going so well for so long, until time proved herself the ultimate judge yet again. “So what now?” The walls of his house start to push in closer on him.

“I’m not saying I never wanted more for us. I’m not saying that I want to cut you completely out of my life, Calum. I wanted so much more for us.”

“Me too. I want more for us.”

“Is now a good time though? Is now going to allow us more?”

Calum wants to laugh, it bubbles in his chest and he knows it’s delivery would be dry but he swallows it back down. “If you’re always waiting for the perfect moment, you’ll be waiting for a long time.”

“Maybe there’s a better time for us. Not a perfect one. Just a better one.”

“Maybe,” he whispers.

“You know, you’re in everything right? When you said to let you in, I couldn’t help but think that was my problem. You’re in my goddamn sheets. You’re in everything. When the sun rises, it’s like watching you smile. If you think I’m shutting you out, that I’m trying to save myself, I want you to know that I’m doing the exact opposite. I am drowning. In everything. In you. In whatever the fuck it means to be a musician. I am drowning and I can’t bear taking you down with me.”

He couldn’t possibly be in everything, not when she was in everything for him. In his journals, in the strings of his bass. When he sits down at a piano, he can’t help but think of the throaty notes that start the song she wrote about him. He can’t help but hear her voice, Brown irises and black tattoos. Maybe they were both drowning and couldn’t see anything but the water invading their own nostrils and lungs. “You’ll always be there,” Calum says, sniffling. The tears shock him, he hadn’t felt them until they’re running down his neck. He doesn’t even know where there is, but he feels it in the cavity of his chest.

_________________

That video is going to haunt him. And it’ll haunt her too. Whenever they see the videos and pictures of when Calum surprised her on stage it always shows just how fucking happy they were with each other. How things really were working for them. But right around the corner, right as she runs behind the edge of the stage, the world doesn’t see the kiss. They don’t see the tears that followed phone calls. They don’t see how schedules always seems to be running in parallel but never fucking intersectiong. That’s all they needed. Just one point to intersect, to meet again at, and maybe they would still be tagging each other in stupid memes. Maybe they would still be talking until crazy hours of the morning. Maybe they would still be writing small poems about each other and always posting them, but never saying who they were about.

Maybe if they just had the one chance to intersect again, her second album wouldn’t be about him. Maybe she could’ve talked about the way the clouds surf in the sky. Maybe she would have pondered the questions of existence without it being tied up in lost love. Maybe Calum would’ve had more to say in interviews. Maybe then, no one would ask him about his love life and it wouldn’t hurt to goddamn bad every time one of the other boys would jump in to save him. Maybe Calum wouldn’t feel like a rock sinking to the bottom of the river and seeing the sunlight just above him, but never having the willpower to push back up.

He hadn’t removed her number. Hadn’t unfollowed her on her finsta. Hadn’t blocked her on a goddamn platform. Because somehow that felt like a harsher step. Like a permanent close, like he was trying to erase who she was and what she had meant to him. It’s stupid, he knows. It’s insane and it’s not helping him in the slightest, but he can’t bring himself to do it. Maybe part of it was that natural and sometimes detrimental curiosity if that person was suffering just like you. He wanted to know if she bled just like him, if her pain was just as vicious as his.

Calum watches the video loop back again. The way she bites her lower lip but runs after him. The crowd is still screaming. They are still cheering. They are still buzzing. After saving the tweet, he drafts a message to her: I know you’ve moved to New York. I hope you’re enjoying it. City makes you feel anonymous doesn’t it? I have two days off during this tour. Maybe we have our better time now? I’m sure by now you know all the best places in town for pizza. I could be down for some cheesy delights.

Should he send that? His fingers shake. What’s left for them after a year and a half? They’ve still supported each other. He retweets about all her singles and videos. She praises the band’s new music in interviews. They aren’t unknown to each other. But somehow they feel like two ghosts. There’s a glass wall between and they look at each other just in passing. They never touch. They never intersect again. Instead, he exits the messaging app, but doesn’t actually delete the words.

When he goes back to the message thread, about a week from their dates in New York, there’s no shock that the app hasn’t saved it. And he feels partially relieved. He exits the app again and goes back to his mindless scroll through Instagram. An app saved him this time.

There is nothing to save him though, when he walks into the green room and spies her shrugging a coat on. The New York mornings are a little cool to the start. His heart is now in his throat. He’s not sure if he should swallow it back down. “We can go,” Ashton says quietly, taking him back his arm gently.

And somehow, like her ears are tuned in on everything, she hears something like her name, something like a soft wisp of a voice. When she looks up and sees Calum, donned in all black, though his long lined jacket has some white stitching and embroidery, she’s sure she could melt into the floor. He still looks good. Still has the same quiet pout to his face that makes him look slightly less approachable but it changes in a heartbeat when he smiles. She grabs the strap to her bookbag purse.

She knows it was her that ended things. She knows that seeing Calum here in front of her, should make her feel embarrassed. But somehow, all she wants to do, all she’s ever wanted to do since that phone call is embrace him one last time. Tell him that he’s still handsome as ever. Promise him that she meant what she said, that he was and still is in everything. “C’mon. We gotta go,” her security tell her.

But all she can do is stare at Calum. Unzipping her purse, she finds the note, the letter she never had the courage to send him and with a deep breath, she walks over. Ashton looks like he could probably murder her. And she doesn’t blame him. She could never blame that instinct to protect the ones you love especially from the ones that hurt them the most. “I’m sorry,” she says, holding out the white envelope. “For everything. And if we don’t ever get that better time, know I’d only ever wish the best for you.”

Calum’s fingers barely grasp onto the note before she’s sidestepping him. The boys circle around him, like they’re just waiting for his word to pounce. She steps through the heavy glass door. And she’s leaving him again. She’s going to slip through his fingers. Again. Pushing through Luke and Michael, Calum swings open the door. “Wait!” he calls out.

She stops, spinning on her heels to face him again. Calum jogs down the corridor. All the offices have windows. Everyone is probably watching. With both hands cupping her face, letter between his fingers and all, he pulls her in close. “You’re not leaving me again. You’re not going to walk out my life a second time. Not without me putting up a hell of a fight.”

“You shouldn’t fight for me. Not after what I did.”

“Meet me tonight. Let’s actually talk about it. I’ve been holding so much inside and if, god forbid, if it’s not now if we had our shoot and we fucking blew it, at least I’ll know for sure.”

“Does 8 work for you?” She tries so hard not to wrap her hands around his wrist, not to slide it up his forearms and tug herself into his chest. And god, he still smells the same. Old Spice and Gain. It feels so right to press herself into his chest.

“Yeah,” he mumbles into the top of her head. It’s still the same scent as before in almost two years, he can’t even believe it.

She takes a step back, patting at her pockets and pulls out a pen. Pulling the envelope from his fingers, she scribbles down a name and address. “If this place is too far from your hotel, just call me.” He watches her, jotting down more numbers. “It’s my new US number.” While handing the infor back to him, she grins just a little. “Don’t lose it now.”

Calum laughs, remembering the first time she delivered that line to him. “I won’t. Promise.”

Dear Calum,

There’s no real way to say this that doesn’t make my chest feel like it’s been punched in. I shouldn’t have let you go. There was a way to make it all work. There was a way so that you and I could’ve pushed through. I was just too scared of things going too right, going too well. Maybe that sounds dumb. Or maybe that sounds insane. But the truth of the matter, I messed up. I’m sorry. And you don’t have to ever forgive me. You deserve the ability to move on. You deserve everything good that comes to you in the future. I want you to be happy. Even if it’s not with me. Even if our better time has passed.

You deserve to be happy.

Calum reads over the letter again. Still not sure how his lungs are still operating because he was positive all the air had been exhaled. It’s the fourth time he’s read it today. Since he had Michael read it out to him in the green room. He would’ve asked Ashton, but knew that Ashton would’ve told him not to worry, to keep moving forward. Because he had, in a way. He had thrown himself into music. He had tried to chase after her in other people. He had read all the books on poetry, and love, and philosophy. But something down in his gut told him that he would never let her go again if he got a second chance with her.

He looks at the date. She wrote it six months after everything went south. Maybe she forgot to send it. It had his name on it--just never fully addressed out though. She could’ve messaged him. Emailed. Called. Literally anything and he would’ve answered. But hadn’t she? What held her back? And just as he goes to read it over one more time, the door chimes open. He looks at his phone. Just as the time ticks over to 8. And when he glances over his shoulder, there she is. In the same jacket from before.

The little pizza shop isn’t too loud. Most people come in just to get their few slices and then dip right back out. She smiles, waving just a little before sliding onto the stool next to him. She points to the letter, that he hasn’t even moved to put up, “Sorry it’s not my best work. I thought about finding a synonym for happy but nothing fit right.”

With a breathy chuckle, Calum folds the letter up, slipping it into his pocket. “What do you recommend off the menu?”

“God, with this place, anything.”

They settle back down on the stools, paper plates not fully supporting the extra large slices and a stack of napkins between them. The grease runs down his chin and Calum feels it rolling too. But his hands are full trying to keep his slice from falling. She laughs, dabbing at his face with a napkin. “I still see you’re the messiest eater around.”

“Hey, hey, it’s not my fault,” he grins. Their giggles dissipate as the bell chimes again, a signal of another patron entering. “What happened?” The question doesn’t feel full enough, doesn’t feel like it fully encapsulates all the confusion he holds. But yet, those are the only words he has.

“A lot started happening all at once. Your tour, my second album. More shows. It just-I felt like I couldn’t breathe. That I wasn’t a person. And maybe part of it was selfish. Maybe I was trying to save myself all along and I was just telling myself and you that I wasn’t selfish. I really am sorry. Like, if I had known, god if I had known that doing that would’ve caused all the pain it did, trust me, I wouldn’t have. If I could go back and tell myself, that crazy shit happens and you just gotta learn how to keep your cool, I’d do it in a heartbeat. It was a mistake letting you go. But at the same time, reaching out felt wrong too. Like I would’ve been ruining the peace you had created for yourself. And I didn’t want to do that either.”

“You know, I felt like we had something different. Like that was really going to be it for me and I had finally figured out this whole being in love thing. That I wouldn’t have to worry about anything. And maybe that was my mistake. Maybe I saw something happening and didn’t do anything.”

“We were living continents away. With everything happening, you weren’t seeing all of it. No need to blame yourself.” She takes his hand, slipping her fingers between his, twisting at the silver band around his middle finger. “I do want you to be happy, Calum. I want you to be so happy it just can’t be contained.”

“I was with you.” He squeezes her hand, willing her to look at him and not the street in front of them, through the glass.

“I’m still not in L.A.”

“But you are in the same country as me now and I will take that.”

“You’d still take me back after everything?” When she looks at him, brows furrowed together, Calum knows he’s a goner. He always was with her.

“I would.”

“You’d be crazy.”

“I am already crazy. Because I’m tempted to ask you where you’re staying and if I could stay the night.”

He’s leaned in to her, just a hair. And she leans in too, resting mostly shoulder to shoulder. “You are crazy,” she laughs softly, taking in the reflection of the neon lights on the street. “But maybe I’m also crazy too.”

The night is cool again. Both of their boots scuff the concrete. She doesn’t stay far from the small diner, a ten minute walk really. With fingers threaded through each other, they walk huddled close up the sidewalks. The wind whips across their faces. They dodge piles of trash on the edge of the sidewalks and they keep their heads down so as to not attract a crowd. “How do you like New York? Got to be a huge shock?”

“It most definitely is. I like feeling anonymous here. With so many people around.”

“I know you said you don’t do well with people and New York feels like the opposite of the place you want to. Especially not in the city.”

“I mean, I still don’t do great with people. I’m in the city for the time being. But I have my eye on a few places further out. But after everything, I felt less lonely here. I don’t know. No one cared about who I was. No one cared what the fuck I was doing here. And I liked it better that way. Back home, everyone knew. Everyone looked at me like I was a broken vase. Here, no one gave a shit. It’s move or be moved here. Forced me to come to terms with everything. Forced me to accept everything I was trying to hide.”

“Do you need to go to your hotel? Grab or bag or something?” She asks just before they pass the opening for the subway.

“I have my roomkey. It’s all good. All the interviews were today.”

“As long as you’re sure.”

He gives her hand another squeeze. “I’m sure.” They reach the door to the complex and she digs out her keys, opening the front door. Calum follows her through the second set of doors. The elevator is a little janky as it carries them up, and definitely tiny. In the space, they’re pressed chest to chest. There are a few extra lines around her eyes, he notices and runs the pad of his thumb over the skin. It’s just as soft as it’s always been. She feels so familiar under his touch, yet so new.

It’s not a far ascent and she laughs when he pouts as she pulls away. “Just like four more steps.”

It’s true to word, when they step out of the elevator, her door is directly in front of it. Her keys jingle just a little as she works the lock and pushes into the chipping red paint of the door. Her dog leaps from the couch, greeting her and then barking just a little when they spot Calum. He laughs, kneeling to hug them to his chest. “You still remember me, huh?” he laughs, as they attempt to lick his face and jaw. “Oh, too long, I know. Sorry, bubs. Didn’t forget about you.”

She takes his jacket, hanging it by the door. “Want anything to drink?”

Calum shakes his head from her couch, working at his shoes. “No, I’m good, thank you.”

She nods, watching as her dog claims Calum’s attention. But she can’t find an ounce of herself to be mad or annoyed. So she slips out of her shoes and puts them up, before getting herself a bottle of water. When she settles onto the couch, she just laughs at the antics. Calum keeps trying to say something but at every twist, her dog is right there, plopping themselves in his lap. Calum eventually gives up and wraps his arms around their body, scratching lightly at their fur.

“Someone missed you too,” she teases, putting her two fingers really close together. “Just a tiny bit.”

His laughter echoes in her head. “Yeah, clearly just a little.” He lifts his head just a little when he feels the wet tongue at his chin. “So, you’re working on your third album?”

“On and off,” she admits. “Playing more shows than anything for the time being. I don’t have to think. Everytime I think too much I end up fucking something up. So I’m just taking it easy for the time being. Taking some brand deals.”

“You’ve got a collab coming out soon, right?”

She nods at the question, laughing as her dog finally settles down. “Yeah, next month. I’ve always lived kind of a boring life, you know that.”

“There’s a lot I don’t know.” He can finally shift, as her dog wanders over to the water bowl, so that he can sit in front of her. It’s a dangerous game. He’s played it before with her. But he takes her chin into his hands. “We haven’t really talked in a while.”

“Is there something you want to say, Calum?”

“Yeah,” he returns simply. Her breath hitches, eyes searching his brown ones for something, anything that tells her what’s going on. “I wonder if your lips still feel the same. I always thought about the way you’d laugh sometimes into a kiss. And it used to haunt me. But right now, I want to find out if anything else has changed.”

She wastes no time, pushing up and sealing her mouth around his. His hand slides to the back of her neck and she pulls at the collar of his shirt. They fall into each other, then falling into the arm of the couch. She exhales her laughter, still pecking at Calum’s lip. Her fingers tease the skin of his upper chest and neck.

“I was right,” he grins.

She hooks her finger around the gold plate. “I guess you were.” She pulls him back in for another kiss, slipping her hands into his hair.

As his lips trail over her jaw and down to her neck, she thinks about the time at her apartment back home, Calum woke her up with kisses down her jaw. They still feel the same. Maybe even a little bit better. His finger push up the hem of her shirt, squeezing at the flesh of her side. She sighs and Calum groans at the sound. It sets off everything in his body when he hears her quiet noises of pleasure.

“Is this okay?” he asks, pulling away to look at her as his fingers brush over her skin. “I don’t want to push you or take things too fast this time.”

Being with Calum feels like no time has past, if she’s honest. She doesn’t have the butterflies, just the comfort of someone she’s known for a year. And it sort of feels like they’re picking back up from where they left off. “I’m okay with it.”

He grins and she sees it--that rising sun in the gleam. His forehead rests against her. “I kinda feel like we have a lot of lost time to make up for.” His lips brush just over hers as he speaks.

She exhales her laughter again, but agrees. “Just a little bit. I really am sorry.”

“We all make mistakes. You just have to communicate with me, okay? That’s all. Talk to me this time. If you feel like you’re drowning, let me help. Please.”

She pushes up and Calum settles back down into the cushion, taking her hands into his. “I know things won’t be like, perfect now. But I guess, it’s really important that we do get to spend quality time together.”

“It is. And I know my tour schedule is pretty packed right now, but there’s another longer break in about three weeks. They’re LA shows. I don’t know if you have plans, but if you do, we can hang out then.”

She has to laugh because here’s the trouble all over again. “Booked recording sessions then.”

“Okay, well, the week after that is the break between legs. What are you doing then?”

“Nothing.” There’s a break between sessions, and she had just planned to use the time to breathe.

“I’ll fly you out then. Just you and I and my rehearsals. But that’s besides the point.”

Laughing, she rests her head into his bicep. “Just you, I, and your rehearsals. Got it.”

“We’ll have to better plan out things, that’s all. We’ll have to look at both our schedules and make sure that there’s sufficient breaks and time together.” He guides her head up. “I want you. And I mean all of you. I can’t stand to lose you again.”

“I just have to make sure Ashton doesn’t kill me.”

“He’s protective, yes. But not an evil. I’ll talk to him. Don’t you worry.”

“He did write a whole song about how he’d bury a body for you. So I think I have a little bit to worry about.”

Calum laughs, shaking his head. “Maybe just a little bit.” Her grin makes him want to bottle it. He wants to carry it with him in his pocket. Leaning closer, he kisses her again. “But right now, it’s just you and I. There’s nothing else but time for us right now.”

She hums. “I like the sound of that.”

Fingers trail back under shirts. She drinks down his moans as they tease, barely touch. Calum’s shirt is discarded in the living room and her is pulled off in the hallway. Calum holds her face in his hands, memorizing the way her teeth sink into his bottom lip in the gentle nip. He moans. Fuck, she feels so good against him.

Her spine shivers as his fingers trail to her back and unsnap the band of her bra. As the fabric falls from her shoulders and she tosses it somewhere, Calum takes a hand just to cup her. His fingers roll the erect bud and she sighs again, mouth falling slack against his. He laughs. “Hmm, that’s right. Someone does like their nipples played with.”

She grins though, blinking open her eyes. “Don’t think I forgot that you don’t listening to rules and like a little pain.”

Finding her waist with both hands, Calum holds her in close. “You wouldn’t dare.”

She bends her knees, just a little and with hot and open mouth kisses she trails down his chest before taking her teeth into the meat of his peck. Calum jolts, a grunt falling over his lips and throat. “I would dare,” she returns.

They fall into her sheets, the same golden ones from before. They’re just as soft against Calum’s skin. It’s warm, as their skin heats up. Her skirt has landed somewhere to the floor and Calum pushes his hips up as she shrugs the denim down. She kisses over his thighs, moaning just a little. Calum lets his eyes flutter close at her soft kisses.

Everything just feels right. Even as Calum takes a nipple into his mouth, tongue teasing her just a little. Or when she kisses over his length. But right now, she tosses her head back when Calum pries her legs open kissing up her inner thighs. “I’ve dreamed of this,” he whispers, watching as she clenches, more of her arousal leaking from her.

She huffs, pulling a hand through her hair. “You sure do know how to make a girl sweat.”

“It’s a speciality,” he laughs with a wink before kissing her clit. She balls on fist around her sheets, stomach completely clenched. The last thing she wants is to have to wait much longer for anything. The anticipation can be a good thing, though she’s doing everything she can to keep her cool. That is, until Calum finally takes the first lap from her and she unravels, a moan leaving her throat as it mixes with a whine.

He takes his time, pushing her thighs and knees to give him all the access he could ever want. Calum licks another stripe over her, before sucking her clit into his mouth. She taste better than he could’ve ever imagined. Every sound she gives--moans, groans, or a whine--rattles in his brain and spurs him on. One of her hands finds it’s way into his hair and she tries to push up with her hips and his face down into her core. But it’s not like he needs the assistance or the reminder. When he trails down to her opening, his nose brushes over her clit and her body is reeling.

“Oh, fuck,” she whines, feeling the coil in her lower gut tightening.

Calum hums at the sounds, and when she praises him, tells him that he’s the only one to make her feel this fucking food, he rewards, slipping a finger into the mix, pushing up into her. “Is that so?” he asks, watching her head dive deeper into the pillows.

“God, Calum,” she huffs.

Another finger finds it way inside, pushing and curling in all the right places. Her body feels like it’s on fire. She feels like she’s a coil so tightly wound she’s going to break. His tongue flicks across her click, lapping at her. And that’s it, that’s the right combination to send her over the edge. Over she goes, with a yelp, her orgasm rocking her frame and toes curling as she cries out for Calum.

He keeps her going, keeps curling his fingers at her. So lost in the way she sounds. And when the huffs turn into a hiss, he pulls back. She beckons him up, kissing him and tasting her own arousal coating his lips and tongue. He’s careful not to settle fully against her, but it’s quickly changed when her legs come up and lock around his waist. “I’m not gonna break,” she laughs, when he finally let’s go and sinks into her.

She swallows his response with a kiss but it doesn’t matter anyway. Her hips come up and Calum rolls onto his back, letting her settle atop him. Her nails rake down his skin and she sucks at his neck, he’s sure it’ll bruise just a little but it’s okay with him. His nails dig into the flesh of her hips, not sure if he wants the friction right now or if he just needed to revel in the feeling of her against him.

“Shit,” he whines when she rocks over him. “I-fuck.”

She laughs, pulling away to reach into her drawer. “That sounds about right.”

Calum delivers a swift swat to her ass at the joke, but laughs anyway. “That is not funny.”

“Then why are you laughing.” When she turns her attention back to him, condom in hand. She stretches down to kiss him again. “Did I ever tell you you’re not the only one that likes a little pain?”

His eyebrows arches and he smooths over her ass before delivering another spank to her opposite cheek. She sighs, eyes fluttering close just a little. “Oh, buttercup, you should’ve never told me that.”

“We can save it for another time? Because right now the only thing I can think about is riding you until the sun rises.”

Kneading at her breast, Calum grins. “Now, that sounds about right.”

There’s a moment, right as she settles down on him fully, that they both moan at the feeling. Calum because of the warmth and slickness, her because of the stretch. Her head is dizzy again with need. She steadies herself with her hands planted on his chest and rocks. All she can focus on is the girth of him, stretching her completely open. It makes her toes tingle and she falters, falling into his chest, but starts a new cadence, pulling up and settling back down on his length.

“Holy shit,” he huffs. She buries her face into the crook of his neck and Calum coaxes her out, to look at him. “You don’t get to hide from me, not again. Wanna see that pretty face when you cum.”

Her hips are still rocking but she nods, eyes fluttering close just for a moment. Calum kisses her, and it’s his turn to swallow down the moan she feeds him. She pushes back up, pulling her own breast between her fingers. Calum loses the top of his head, he’s sure, watching as she rides him. His fingers trail over her hips, up to her stomach. “Why’d you have to be so handsome?” she teases breathy.

He’s not sure how to respond. Unsure of the heat he feels is a blush or the sweltering of arousal flooding his body. She takes one of his hands, trailing it towards her heat. And Calum takes the hint, thumb circling the bundle of nerves. Her head falls back on her neck as a hum builds in her chest. Calum kneads at her right breast, pulling and pushing at every button he can to have orgasm again for him.

A high pitched squeak falls from her. The bed taps against the wall, but neither one of them really cares. Her orgasm washes over it, like a wave crashing into the shoreline. She shudders, clenching around him and falls again into his chest, but pushes up onto her elbows, remember Calum’s early demand. “Fuck,” she whines when he starts to fuck up into her. He pulls her body up and she’s useless, body still like jello from her orgasm. Her words catch in her throat.

“It’s okay,” he whispers into her ear when she bites down onto his shoulder. “You know I like the pain.”

“Feel so good,” she returns. “Calum, shit, you feel so good.” His hips start to stutter, trying to ride out for longer, but knowing that inevitably he’s at the end of his rope. She kisses over his neck. “Cum for me, yeah? Please.”

Who is he to deny her? Who is he she to defy her? He ruts up once, twice, and she clenches hard, taking most of the wind of his third thrust but he cums hard, arms squeezing her to his chest and he knows he’s loud in her ear as he groans. Though, it’s suspected that’s just the sound she wanted to hear as she seals his mouth with hers.

Calum wraps the towel around his waist. She’s already under the cover, with them flipped down for him. She pats the spot in the mattress. He can see some of the hickies covering her chest that he left behind. Without much thought, Calum dries off a bit more and then slips between the sheets. “Hey,” she whispers. “Come here often?”

“My first time actually. But the first of many, I hope.”

Her nose scrunches as Calum taps it. “Yeah, of many. I brought your phone into the room. Put it on my spare charger. And I know that it’ll go off at 5:55 AM. No, you don’t have to turn it off. I know it’s important to you.”

“You--you still remember that?

“I don’t know if you really remember. But when I said that you were in everything, you were everywhere. I meant it.” She turns to her back, the sheets tucked up to her chin. Both of them are bare beneath them.

Calum’s taken up drawing random patterns on her stomach as he holds himself up on his elbow, facing her. “I remember. Could never forget that.”

“Guess we might’ve meant for something more, something better.” Her voice is soft. The blinds in her window let the lights of the city in. Nothing about it is quiet as sirens pass by. Calum lets his head fall into her pillows. She turns, both of them now facing each other again. Her arm slides over his waist. He throws one of his legs over hers.

She’s content like this, where she can kiss across the tattoos on his chest. Though she can’t really see the one just under his peck, she thinks about the question poised there. Why would she choose anything other than Calum? It remains quiet for a while and she thinks he’s fallen asleep until his chest rumbles.

“We were. It was just a matter of getting there. Finding the right path for us.” He’s positive, as she shuffles in a little closer that this is it for him. And if he has to fight hell, heaven, or high water, he’d do it all for her.

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20dollarlolita · 4 years

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A couple of fun things from work.

1) If you bought it four months ago and it worked for four months then you can’t return it just because you broke it after four months.

2) Told two new cashiers that it’s an audit point if they have active paper coupons behind their regs; paper coupons need to be ripped in half and thrown away after they’re used, because it’s actually the customer’s job to bring in their own coupons. Customer heard me say that and responded, “You should tell the manager that that’s a stupid rule.” Did not say, “okay, I’ll get the manager,” walk ten steps away, turn around, come back, and say, “Hi, I’m the manager,” but ALMOST DID. I would like one self-control point.

3) One of my hearing aids broke and I haven’t gotten it replaced because it broke the same day my car got totaled and I picked car over bilateral hearing. I’m holding something in a crinkly package while the customer starts talking to me, so I can’t hear the customer over the sound of the plastic. I set it down and say, “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear that. Can you say it all again?” Customer: “Yeah, it’s the masks. It’s even worse for people who can’t hear well.” Me: *incredibly glad that my mask is hiding whatever o_o expression is on my face right now*.

I’ve got plans to redo the petticoat tutorial, but in a plus size, so that I can troubleshoot it in case it doesn’t scale up well. That project is competing for time with work and a couple of other things (my youtube and the patreon people who pay for that, I’m writing a knitting book, selling a broken car, writing some music, and my cat really wants me to spend a lot of time petting her and less time on the computer) so I don’t have a hard deadline on that. I’m sorry that this blog hasn’t been top priority for a while. I’m trying to get back into the swing, but not going outside and therefore not dressing nice has sapped a bit of the energy necessary to sew lolita. Things go in swings with me, though, and I’ll probably turn out a couple of tutorials once the new halloween trims come in at work.

Because who doesn’t want spider web lace on a detachable collar and wrist cuffs to make any black and white dress more halloween?

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anochuu · 4 years

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injured!Kyōjurō x readers

⤧Fluff

⤧Very Slight Angst (if you squint your eyes)

The fight between Akaza ,the Upper Moon Three was beyond intense with Rengoku himself; even when (y/n) and Tanjirou was there, it seems impossible to defeat him. She didn't get hurt strangely because this particular demon claimed that he never fought a woman nor he will ever be but on the other hand, the Flame Pillar told her to move behind him and watch from the distance as he will take him on.

She believed in him;that the strongest Hashira will be able to win but all that hope turned her world upside down when the blood seeping out from his wounds are staining heavily in his uniform and haori; his face was battered and bruised,he might hit his head somewhere and had a cut whereas the red thick liquid oozes down covering one side of his profile.

That is when she felt the need to step in. So she worked with Tanjirou, guiding him throughout the whole fight.If he said he don't fight women,then she might as well become the bait while Tanjirou will be the one attacking him. She had asked Tanjirou to drag Rengoku away from the fight as it could hit him or even as a target. The order to retreat from him was obvious that Rengoku will chose to protect them both and fight to death.

Something that even in a thousand years she will never allow it to happen.

So She ignored him and continue to wield her sword,buying times until what felt like forever with more blood and sweats to spill,the dawn comes to a break leaving the now strong demon to flee out from the scene to protect himself from burning to death. She panted heavily,noticing Tanjirou who had the guts to ran after him into the woods,cursing at him that Rengoku Kyōjurō is the strongest Hashira will ever have,the irreplaceable Flame Pillar that have the responsibility to protect weak people as it is his job and will never abandon it even if it costs him his own life.

Relieved, (y/n) fell onto the ground feeling like all her energy as if sapped out.Though he said he don't fight women, he still manage to find ways to hurt her indirectly like purposely dodging Tanjirou's forms so it would hit her instead.

"(l/n)-san!" The boy came running back to her side, noticing how she is in pain, "Are you okay? I'm sorry i hit you with my sword! I didn't mean to! But he just sort of moved away so fast--!"

He continue to rant and right now it is not something so pleasant to hear.Don't get her wrong,she admire his spirit but there is more important thing to do.

"It's okay,Tanjirou.I'm alright,go help Rengoku,please."

He nodded firmly with a 'hmph!' and left her side to look after him.Her gaze hues follows him,crouching beside the yellow haired man who is on the brink of unconsciousness.For a moment his gaze travel from the boy and directly towards her but from the distance, she could not make out how is he looking at her.

Heaving a deep sigh,she let herself lie down on the dirt,closing both of her eyes as she overwhelmed with tiredness but later drifted off to a sleep where darkness greets her from the other side.

"Kocho,how is he?"

"Ah,if it isn't (l/n).How are you feeling?"

The perfect timing she met the Insect Pillar on her way inside the Butterfly estate where patients of the Demon Slayer will always be treated and taken care of under her wings along with the caretakers she have.

"I'm fine,i'm not hurt at all."

"Mhm, says your broken arm."

(y/n)’s eye twitched,it is so obvious she can never escape from her sharp eyes she is as if the professional doctor here after all.

"I'm really fine,it doesn't hurt anymore."

"If you say so!" She beams,smiling at her, "I don't know if i should say whether it is a lucky or a bad thing that you two encountered one of the Upper Moon Three considering the outcome."

She sighs, ignoring her remark, a little bit confuse to take it as a sarcasm or she genuinely meant it but Shinobu being Shinobu is a tricky woman after all.

"Can i see Rengoku please?" she averted the subject,

"Impatient to see your lover i see?" She giggles and (y/n) couldn't help but to turn into beet red,

"Whose lover!? Stop spreading such rumour!"

"Now now,no need to be shy.Everybody here already knows anyway."

Ugh

Is it true everybody thought that way? A part of her wanted to correct her but a part of her think it is better to remain quiet. Speaking of the truth, she can't deny how there is a chemistry between him and the Flame Pillar-there were intimate moments where they couldn't keep their hands off each other, the late night talks and the training together doesn't seems like an ordinary friendly meeting.

But at the same time he never had the choice to overcome whatever is between the two and confesses to her his true feelings as the same goes for her as well. So it is rather complicated. However the both latter cannot deny they are very concern for one another; overprotective especially Rengoku himself that despite his patriotic and passionate talks he always lose his composure whenever she is in to a danger mission.

"Don't give me that look,(y/n).It's a beautiful world i still want to live." Shinobu tease.

"Knock it off,Kocho." She groan, "Can i see him or not?"

"Of course of course,right this way please." She led her down the corridor and to the door at the last two of their left.

"We just stitched the hole on his stomach so try not to do anything to reopen them."

"What,like wrestling on the bed?" (y/n) meant it as a joke but Shinobu threw her a smug smirk which made herself panic with her own bidden words.

"I'll leave you two alone.Have fun~"

I swear i will hit her head someday just for her to learn her lesson

(y/n) took a deep breath in before letting out softly,sliding the door open that creaks faintly.Expecting to see him on bed fast asleep, he was sat up with his back adjacent to the frame behind him. Upon her arrival, he notices her and the usual smile on his face appears as if nothing has happened to him,

"Hello,(y/n)!" He greets, "How are you feeling?"

Is he seriously asking her that when he is the one on the operation table few weeks ago battling with death itself?

"Are you kidding me? how are you?" She went inside,closing the door behind her before taking a seat at the edge right in front of him,

"As you can see, it might take me a few more days until i can get back to duty again but i think i will be more than just fine."

Her eyes automatically glances towards his abdomen where the majority part of the wound is under that clothes.

"You have to take it easy.You took the largest blow out of any of us.He is strong but you cannot take him on alone again,do you understand?"

"It was the perfect time to fight him on that night that is what i thought; i won't miss the opportunity easily. I was prepared all of these to defeat them after all."

Her eyebrows furrowed; one thing that she never liked about him is the way he is thinking; his perception of himself to the world.

"You cannot fight him alone." (y/n) repeated,a bubble of anger gurgling within her

"It is our responsibilities to protect the people.The reason why we became a Pillar is to prove ourselves that we can fulfil that duty.He is immensely strong i'll give him that,but that what makes me wanted to fight him again all the more."

Him and his damn patriotic words!

She knows very well that what he speaks are in fact,all the truths and there is no denying that the moment they signed up for this,they are willing to risk their lives to protect the weak,to make the world a better place. However, her heart and mind pointed out completely different currently.

How can he speaks of death so easily?

And who is she to forbid him from fighting? she have no rights at all.She is getting head of her emotions and that is the one thing she despise about herself.

"What if you get injured again? worst,get killed."

The smile never cease from his face,adding the fuel inside (y/n)’s burning heart,

"Then that is the honour i should redeem."

That is it!

"Are you mad!?" She fumed out of a blue,surprising the Pillar at her sudden outburst

"Can't you see that there is no possible way you could win back there!? Didn't you remember the pain of your own wound!?" She shot up from the bed,glaring at the male who had his eyes widened at her,blinking.

"He is the Upper Moon Three,Rengoku! And you insisted back there you wanted to fight him one on one! Were you out of your mind!? Is that how thirsty you are for power and killing? for reputation and image? Or was it because i wasn't even fit to fight alongside with you!?"

"Huh? No,(y/n)—"

"I saw you—you're bleeding,Rengoku.." Her volumised tone slowly fell,feeling the hot tears dangerously sitting on each corner of her eyes and her fingers balled into a pair of fists,clenching them tight until her knuckles turns white.

In the back of her head, she recalls the horrifying images- Rengoku lost a lot of blood,too much in fact that it scares her he might ended up dying because of it. She saw how Akaza's hand with his sharp claws went pierced through his abdomen where Shinobu explained to her earlier if he had moved a tad closer to the left,Rengoku would never survive from it.

"You are a selfish man,Rengoku!" She cries,reaching to clutch the material of his apparel upon his chest whilst her head hung down, not wanting to see the tears eventually stroll down her cheeks briskly from holding back.

"I just—" She took in a deep breath shakily,

"I couldn't watch you die."

His eyes widens; the pregnant of silence hovers in the air but her faint sobbing. In the end, he speaks,

"(y/n),you know i didn't mean it like that." His voice is so gentle that it might break her even more.

"Shut up." She snapped

"Look at me (y/n)."

She gulps down silently,shaking her head without uttering a single word as an answer. Rengoku lifted one hand,pinches the tip of her chin to make her face tilted upwards so now he can fully stare into her pair of golden eyes that went glossy with her tears.

"You know i never mean it like that. I never think of you as someone that's weak but you,are the strongest (element) and (element) breath user i have come to known ever." "I couldn't asked you to fight with me on that night because i too, am afraid he could hurt you."

Her eyes blinking slowly,taking in the words he had just explained to her wholeheartedly

"It is because he is very dangerous that i was too afraid that you will take all the hit for me knowing your characters so well." He pull her closer and she let him be; onto his lap though she do it very carefully as not to hurt his injuries,

One of his hand cradles the side of her face while the other held onto hers, intertwining their fingers. His thumb wipes the length of her cheek in attempt to wipe the tears away before kissing the corners lovingly-drinking the bitterness of her heart and her fear that the two shares

"Forgive me if i cause a misunderstanding and made you feel at fault.It turns out despite we are Pillars,i am afraid of losing you too."

"You are..?" She sniffs, and Rengoku laughs,taking her into his arms deeper

"Still am,my love." He pecks the side of her temple

"I actually tried to talked to Oyakata-sama to get us a separate team because all i do will ended up baby-ing you.I won't actually let you do anything!"

This made (y/n) finally chuckles, "It's your fault for flirting with me ever since we're just Mizunoto!"

"Hm? But it worked,didn't it?"

She huffs,muttering a 'yes' when she bury her nose into his broad chest,inhaling his scent deeper.

"(y/n),can i look at you again?"

"Why?" her voice muffled,not budging.

"I want to kiss you."

She pulls herself away just enough to admire his pair of beautiful sunset hues that always reminds her back then when they first met,she already found him very charming,she couldn't look away from his intense burning gaze.

"May i?" He asks,adding the red tints on her pale cheeks,

"You may.." her small,shy voice trails off.

Rengoku couldn't be more happy,leaning in to close the space between them and finally their lips mashed together,adding his weigh onto her as she arched her back.The kind of kiss that remind her he loves her so much that he would do anything to go through in this world to protect her; the kind of kiss is a clear sign that he adores her,he wants her.

#kyoujurou x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #demon slayer rengoku #rengoku kyōjurō #rengoku kyoujurou #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #fluff

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need-a-fugue · 4 years

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The Most Amazing Thing in the World

Summary: The cold puts Bucky in a mood, leaving you to play out your snow day with a certain blond god – giant cockblock – as your mopey super soldier slinks off to brood.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Author’s Note: Thank you so much to @fanfictionaries for letting me participate in this classic tropes challenge…one of my first ever! And congrats on the 300 followers! My prompt… Snowed In Trope

Warnings: Not a one... just some saccharine sweetness with a mostly moody Bucky.

Word Count: 5.6K

Snow. The whole of the outside world is covered in brilliant, blinding depths of pristine white snow. It’s stunning, dazzling, brilliant. And Bucky absolutely hates it.

Even just the thought of a cold front moving through is enough to set him in a sulk that lasts for days. Weeks. It’s the reason Tony had to have the Weather Channel blocked from their lineup.

Back in March, an early spring nor’easter blew through upstate New York, absolutely pounding the compound, and Bucky spent the entirety of the blizzard either wandering the halls, muttering curses in Russian, or holed up in the common room cleaning not only his own guns and knives, but every single weapon in the Avenger’s arsenal… also whilst mumbling and cursing in Russian.

Steve worried he was suffering some kind of ongoing flashback. Natasha complained that he was simply being a giant damn baby. Sam lamented the fact that they might have to put him down. But you… you simply followed him around the compound with a fluffy blanket to toss over his shoulders, settling in to drink hot tea beside him once he sat down to clean.

The truth is, Bucky Barnes had never liked the cold. Growing up in a bit of a shithole apartment in Brooklyn meant that – more often than not – the boiler would go out the moment winter hit and he’d be forced to sleep snuggled in a tight ball with his little sisters, winding himself into a protective outer layer to conserve all the warmth for them. Walking to and from school in the freezing temps all too often meant giving up his winter coat for Steve – cloaking the frail boy in an extra layer in an attempt to ward off pneumonia – while he shuffled through the snow in old, worn boots and as many sweaters as would fit on his body. And work never stopped for the cold either, all of the odd jobs picked up to help support his family – trudging around town making deliveries for the seamstress, butcher, the guys who ran some sort of business out of the back of the butcher shop – continued despite the bitter city winds and bone chilling temperatures.

And that was all before he suffered through collapsing foxholes in the dead of a European winter – depths of snow obscuring mortars and limbs in the Ardennes – and decades of being languidly pulled in and out of dreamless slumber as he lingered in an ice-filled tomb tucked away in the blindingly desolate depths of Siberia.

Snow was little more than a bitter reminder of the pain he felt so long ago… the pain he was sadly certain would one day return.

Snow most certainly was not… “The most amazing thing in the world!”

His head snaps to the right so fast that a loud crack-pop reverberates through the room, twitching your face into a disgusted grimace, your nose crinkling in revulsion as you turn away from the window and watch him bend his neck awkwardly to release another small snap. He rolls his eyes at your expression and lets out a weary sigh, returning his empty gaze to the window as his breath fogs the glass. “No. It’s not.”

You drop a loud snort and fold your arms tightly over your chest as you glare at him. “You can’t possibly think this is a bad thing.”

He cocks his head towards you, confusion wrinkling his brow. You know how much he hates the cold. You’ve known him long enough – well enough – to understand why. And unlike so many of the others around here – Steve always telling him to quit moping, Sam poking fun and calling him ice princess the minute the weather starts to change – you’ve never once tried to get him to get over it.

Your arms unfurl as you take a step a closer to the man by your side, your hands – warm hands – reaching over and gathering his clenched fists, allowing no more than a breath of a moment to pass before peeling his fingers apart and winding them with your own. “Steve and Nat and Sam are on a mission in Costa Rica,” you remind him subtly.

“Lucky bastards,” he interrupts, bitterness lacing the words.

Your fingers tighten around his as you go on, sly, crooked smile pulling across your face. “Tony and Bruce are at some kind of science conference… somewhere.” The cavernous wrinkle between his brows begins to flatten out, a bit of dreamy blue breaking through the gray of his stormy eyes as he starts to catch on. You take half a step closer, chests not quite touching, but warmth still radiating across the limited space separating your bodies. “Clint took Vision and Wanda into the city this morning, something about testing powers with Stark tech at the tower,” you offer with a shrug before looking up and locking onto his still curious gaze, offering a rather sultry one of your own. “And now… with all this snow… there’s no way that any of them will be able to make it back tonight.”

A small grin tugs at the corners of his lips, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he looks down at you. “You’re saying… for once… we’re actually alone?”

You nod, pulling yourself up on your tiptoes to swiftly swipe the tip of your nose against his, finally pressing your oh-so-warm body up against him. And you whisper, “That’s what this snow gave us. Now, tell me again how it’s not the most amazing thing in the world?”

His countenance cracks even further, no longer showing even a trace of the doom and gloom from just moments before. “S’not,” he murmurs, unwinding from your fingers and dropping his hands to your hips. He gives a small tug, bringing you utterly flush with him, and he gazes deeply into your eyes in that way that makes your insides shudder. “Definitely not the most amazing thing.”

“Ooo,” you intone lightly, playfully. “Such a charmer. What would the rest of the team think if they knew you were such a sap?”

He shakes his head languidly back and forth, the motion extending down to his hands plastered to your hips as well, pulling you in a subtle sway. “They’ll never know. S’not for them to know.” And he leans in, delicately parting your lips with his own.

The kiss is sweet and lingering and speaks of having all the time in the world. A rarity for the two of you – outside of your rooms, at least – being as you’re typically forced into swift and fervid lip locks that knock the breath from your lungs. Fast and aching and yearning for more as one or the other of you presses into the wall in a dark corner of the compound hard enough to pepper your backs with bruises. Stolen kisses take the shape of clashing teeth, pounding lips, desperately squirming hips, all held together by the deliciously perilous threat of being found out.

But now… now there’s no one around. There’s no lingering danger nor press of time. No upcoming mission to prepare for, nor debrief to hurry off to. No Steve about to knock at the door in hopes of an early morning run, nor Natasha silently sweeping through the halls like some kind of ninja ghost. Now, there is only you and him and the silent still of a snow-covered morning offering the sweet, tender promise of –

“Lady Agent?!”

The thick, heavy bellow reverberates in from the hall, swift plodding footsteps echoing behind it. Bucky’s eyes shoot wide and he not only releases your hips – and your lips – but actually shoves you away, setting you to stumble. “Fucking Thor,” he bemoans, swiping a hand over his mouth before shoving it madly through his hair.

“Sergeant Winter?!” sounds from just outside the common room door, the rather jumbled handle pulling a sudden snicker from you and a frustrated groan from Bucky. “Surely someone remains,” the god laments piercingly, his cries sounding almost frightened.

You choke back a laugh – mostly at the mess of a man in front of you, now shaking out his hands and pacing as though trying to rid himself of a years’ worth of pent up energy – and you call out, “In here.”

Thor turns the corner and enters the room with a delighted swagger and such a wide smile of relief on his face that you feel a little tug and pull in your chest. This poor giant of a man – a god – has spent the better part of the past month following each of you around in turn, just trying to break into the rather tightknit group you all had formed in his absence. He trains with the Avengers, fights with the Avengers, but actually fitting in with the Avengers has been proving difficult for the God of Thunder, the scent of his desperation flooding the compound and setting eyes to roll and exasperated glances and glares to proliferate.

Still, as annoying as he can sometimes be – tagging along for debriefs he has no need to attend, showing up for movie nights to which he’s not exactly invited – you see his struggle for what it truly is. He’s a man bereft of family and home, simply searching for a place he might belong. And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t break your heart.

“Ah, most excellent!” the hulking blond enthuses, making a beeline for you. “I was beginning to wonder if it was only I and…” – he flings a haphazard hand through the air – “the woman in the walls.” He positively beams as he steps in between you and Bucky, pressing his nose to the glass of the window as he looks out over the snow-covered grounds. “Have you seen, Lady Agent?! The world is covered in the most blissfully brilliant white!”

Bucky offers an indignant snort from over his shoulder. “No snow where you’re from?” he asks with a low, vexed tenor.

If Thor notices his irritation, he doesn’t let it show, huge grin still plastered to his face as he replies, “In Asgard? No, of course not. It is perfectly temperate year-round.”

“Of course it is,” he mutters.

“I have seen this snow many a time on my travels to Midgard. But rarely so much. And so… undisturbed. It is quite beautiful, wouldn’t you say?”

You nod, the corner of your mouth ticking up in a crooked grin as you shoot a quick wink over at Bucky, only to find that he’s once again taken on the slumped posture and bitter demeanor that he’s managed to become known for around here. “It certainly is,” you tell Thor, your eyes lingering on Bucky for a long moment as you fight off the thick and sudden sense of discontent curling in your gut.

“Are there no others here?” he asks, eyes still plastered to the outside.

You sigh. “Nope, just us. And Friday said that the surrounding roads are shut down for now, so doesn’t look like anyone will be back any time soon.”

“Well, then,” he starts, stepping away from the window and leaving a giant steamy smear from his face. He looks to you with something akin to glee, and you feel your disappointment at Bucky’s mood begin to wane. “What shall we do with our day?” he asks, oozing a sort of childlike enthusiasm.

You smile wide, a massive toothy grin splitting your face in two. “Thor,” you start, slow and drawn out, the name stretched methodically, voice taking on that very specific air that only comes about when you have a plan. Bucky feels his heart drop to his shoes as he hears the shift in tone, watches the impish expression take over your face. Whatever this is – he’s certain – it won’t be good. “Have you ever experienced an old fashioned snow day?

000

Four hours later and Bucky’s barely seen you at all – save for a quick meal of tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches that you used your long-lashed doe eyes to convince him to fix for you and your new BFF – until he peers out the wall of windows in the common room and catches you awkwardly climbing through the foot-deep snow below, holding tightly to the arm and shoulder of a bundled-up god as he trudges alongside. He watches closely, watches as you struggle to find footing, falling and laughing, your face lit with such delight that he thinks he can almost hear your high-pitched giggles from behind the reinforced glass, two stories above. Thor winds his arms around your middle and hauls you to him, only seeming to realize that clomping through the snow as a single four-legged unit is pointless the minute he goes down beside you, faceplanting in the thick, white fluff.

Bucky smirks as the massive blond jerks upright and sputters, shaking the snow from his hair. But his expression changes on a dime – dropping back into that sullen, somber, perhaps even angry scowl that has sat so comfortably on his face ever since that giant cockblock rolled in – when he watches Thor pick you up, plucking you easily from the deep snow, and throwing you over his shoulder before trudging further out from the building.

At some point you stop, demanding that your giant companion put you down, which he does by tossing you into an even deeper drift, the thrill of flying and fun of landing in the delightfully powdery snow causing you to ask him to do it again – several more times – before the laughter finally subsides and you decide to get down to business. You flop backwards, laying flat in the snow and demanding that Thor do the same. And you show him precisely how to move his arms and legs about to create the perfect – just absolutely perfectly deep and symmetrical – snow angel. And while swimming about in fresh giggles and joy and soft, crunchy snow, you look up to the window where you’d caught a glimpse of Bucky perched just moments before, your red face beaming with a euphoric, toothy grin.

But he’s no where to be seen.

By the time you finally come back in – just after a rather disastrous snow ball fight leaves you with what you’re certain is quickly blooming into an angry welt on your ass – the sun has all but disappeared beyond the horizon, leaving the deep blue twilight butting up against the sparkling sheen of pure white. You shiver as you shed your thick winter coat in the atrium – vowing to come back for the sopping mess later lest Tony finds it and blows another gasket about the messy heathens he so graciously houses – the blistery winds whipping through the indoors for a moment before Thor wrestles the door shut. The cold sizzles along the tops of your ears and tips of your fingers, hat and gloves soaked through and thick with slush. You tug them off and drop them on the floor by your coat, order Thor to do the same.

Once in the elevator, you tell him to go thaw out in a hot shower… one of the most integral pieces of this snow day routine. You step out into the hall that leads to both of your rooms and spin to level him with a pointed stare. “When you’re done,” you say, tone terribly commanding despite being punctuated by soft, snotty sniffles, “Come back to the common room and we’ll have hot chocolate. A snow day’s not a snow day if it doesn’t end with cocoa.”

He nods in agreement, but says nothing, the rather enthusiastic yet slightly confused look that twists his features being by now an all too familiar sight. You let out a breathy chuckle and shuffle past his room, not at all surprised when he refuses to stop at his door, instead insisting – wordlessly – on showing you to your room before backtracking to his own.

You thank him with a nod – admittedly charmed by his gentlemanly actions – and slip into your dark dormitory only to be met with a low growl of, “Hey doll,” that causes you to jump and shriek in surprise.

“Jesus, Bucky! You scared me,” you breathe out, hand flying to your chest.

You flip on the light in time to catch his smirk. “Figured an Avenger would have better instincts than that,” he smarts from his spot on the corner of your bed. “I left the door unlocked… not exactly hiding that I’m here.”

You roll your eyes. “First of all, you’re sitting in the dark, so… hiding. And also, I’m not technically an Avenger,” you argue, hopping on one foot as you struggle to free yourself from a soggy boot. “Just… adjacent personnel.”

“Sure,” he intones, rising from the bed and crossing the room to help. “Lady Agent, is it?” he mocks with a scoff as he gives you a gentle shove back into the wall and takes over wrestling the boot from your foot.

You lean back heavily, switching feet to raise the other once he frees you, and let out a small chortle. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

The second boot pops off with a jarring smack and Bucky stumbles back as it almost hits him in the face. He snorts loudly and angrily chucks the shoe across the room before turning back to you with a raised brow. “I don’t get jealous,” he says, a challenging note to his voice.

You drop an indignant snort as you reach down to peel off a single, sloppy sock. Rising, you peer up at him, eyes narrowing as you take in his oddly contemplative stare. He doesn’t seem angry, nor upset in any way, really. He just looks… confused.

“Should I be jealous?” he asks then, the words slipping past his lips in a soft, hesitant tone.

You huff out a breath and throw the sock at him, barking a quick laugh when it slaps him in the cheek, landing with a thick, wet splat. The tentativeness falls from his face, expression filling instead with an irritated sort of impatience. That same scowl he’d been wearing earlier – when you zipped up your parka and pulled on your hat and told him that you were declaring today a snow day – returns full force. “Man,” you mutter, shaking your head as you awkwardly tug off the other sock. “Sometimes you can be a real dick, ya know?”

You stumble a bit, hopping on one foot in a small circle as you try to maintain your balance. Bucky rolls his eyes, purses his lips, and steps over to steady you, one firm hand clamping down on your shoulder to hold you in place while you pull off the sock with a squelch. He doesn’t let go once you regain your footing, instead clenching his fingers tighter as he bites out, “He doesn’t even know your name.”

You shrug. “Doesn’t always seem like you do, either,” you smart, accusatory brow raised high. His eyes narrow suspiciously – confoundedly – and you huff out a long and languid sigh before collapsing forward into him. Your arms wrap around his neck as you let him bear the brunt of your weight – whether he wants to or not – your spent, numb limbs tingling uselessly in your damp clothes. His shoulders stiffen beneath you and you respond by snuggling closer, burrowing your face into his neck and grinning wildly when he bucks at the touch of your bitterly cold nose. “Doll,” you mock thickly, the word nearly eaten up by the flesh covering his bobbing throat as your lips linger near his Adam’s apple. “Baby, Sweetheart, Darlin’.”

His shoulders relax and he sighs out into your damp hair, arms slowly winding around your middle, tugging you close and holding you tightly to his chest. “I can start calling your Agent, if you want. Or, I don’t know, Ice Queen?”

You pull back abruptly, leaning away whilst still penned in by his arms, staring at him in something akin to horror. “I think we all know who the real Ice Queen is here, Barnes,” you snipe.

Maybe it’s wrong – hell it must be because everything he thinks and feels and does seems to be wrong nowadays – but seeing you get riled up, watching that angry fire creep into your eyes, that smug tilt to your chin as you go on to accuse him of being so rude to Thor, well damn if it doesn’t cause a lighthearted rumble of a laugh to bubble up his chest and a crooked smile to spill across his lips. “I just meant…” he interrupts swiftly, cutting off your complaint of just wanted to play in the snow with a shushing press of his metal index finger to your lips, “because you’re freezing, doll face.”

You roll your eyes languidly, irritation still present in your pinched features, but beginning to melt into a reluctant fondness. “Doll face… psh. Why not just call me honey bear or baby cakes?”

“Alright, honey bear,” he intones with a bit of a glint in his eye. “You gonna peel these wet clothes off or just die in my arms from hypothermia?”

You raise a brow. “Those are my only choices?”

He shrugs. “You got a better suggestion?”

A deep and dramatic frown rolls over your face – more than a bit overdone – and you unclasp your hands from around his neck, begin to futz pathetically with the zipper of your hoodie. “My fingers are numb,” you whine “I can’t.”

“Okay.” He unfurls his arms from around you, looks down at your attire and reaches out to languidly tug down the zipper of the sweatshirt, slowly, delicately, inch by inch, while his metal fingers make their way beneath your top and swiftly pop the button of your jeans, single index finger lazily pressing the zippered fly down. Once done, he steps back and stares, blank expression on his face as he raises both brows assessingly and says simply, “There you go.”

You continue to pout, hands rising and swiping awkwardly – pitifully – for him across the nearly negligible distance separating you. “My feet are numb,” you whimper. “Carry me.”

It comes out as a command – a rather whiny, juvenile command, but a command none the less. And damn if that doesn’t cause his whole expression to shift, teasingly aloof demeanor fleeing in an instant as he chokes on a laugh. “Carry you?”

You merely nod in response, wasting no time at all leaping forward, clutching his shoulders and forcing yourself on him, chests colliding and driving a thick oof from his mouth in lieu of the laughter as you wrap yourself around him like an overgrown spider monkey, latching on and locking your ankles at the small of his back. “Carry me,” you say again, once more dropping your face – and that that damn cold nose, those frost-bruised cheeks – into the crook of his neck.

“Okay, baby bear,” he teases lightly, voice soft and melodic and smooth like melted honey as his metal arm sweeps beneath your ass to haul you higher. “Let’s get you in the shower.”

You let him carry you back to the ensuite, clinging to him even as he reaches into the shower to turn on the water, an awkward feat that he manages with a surprising amount of grace and not a word of complaint, a thing that makes your smile burn even brighter as you continue to press into his warm and inviting neck. He settles you down onto the bathroom counter as the water heats up, steam already beginning to billow out and cloud the mirror behind you.

You watch as he makes a move to pull off his Henley, simultaneously toeing off his thick-soled boots. And you settle your still-chilled hands over the tops of his to halt his movements. “Uh-uh,” you hum dully, returning his confused glance with an almost reprimanding one of your own. “You’re not forgiven yet.”

“Forgiven for what?” he bites out, irritation blooming in the corners of his narrowed eyes.

You grasp his face lightly, fingers dragging across the achingly familiar scruff lining his jaw, thumbs scratching lazily at the stubble on his chin. His muscles instantly loosen beneath your fingertips, clenched jaw dropping, lips parting for the briefest of moments before he closes his eyes and shifts in your hold, pressing a lingering kiss to the pad of your thumb.

“You need to go make hot cocoa,” you say then, voice cutting through the rumbling of the running water and steady, swooshing pulse of your blood rushing in your ears. He looks back at you, deep blue eyes darkened with desire, and for a moment you think you may have lost the upper hand. “Please?” you ask primly, sweetly, cocking your head to the side as you continue to hold his in your faltering grip.

“Hot cocoa?” he breathes out, dubious brow raised high.

You nod. “Every snow day ends with cocoa.”

He sighs and drops his head heavily onto your shoulder, his own hands splaying out on the countertop on either side of your hips. “Okay,” he laments softly, patting your thigh as he pulls himself upright. “Hot cocoa.”

He turns to leave, no more than a half a step out the bathroom door when you mention brightly, “And make a lot. You know how Thor gets around Midgardian food and drink.”

000

“The snow people,” Thor begins again, slapping his knee as a loud guffaw spills from his lips. “I had never heard of such a thing! But, so wonderous! Imagine,” he says, vivid stare locking onto Bucky as he reenters the room, “taking that… that… snow and building men!” He shakes his head fondly, wistfully. “Ah, and it held together so well. Like icy clay. Just wonderful.”

“You did a hell of a job,” you tell him, nodding gratefully at Bucky as he hands you another cup of cocoa. “There’s a whole damn army of snowmen out there now. Probably better security than anything Tony could build.”

“Ha!” he barks. “Indeed!” He turns to Bucky accepting a fourth mug for himself. “Have you seen them? Just out the window there… our snow warriors.”

Bucky offers him a stiff, closed-lip smile – all the acknowledgement he’s willing to give – and heads back to the kitchenette to mope.

“It is quite a delicious drink,” the blond god enthuses as he slurps indelicately, turning back to you. “Chocolate, but… hot. Remarkable!”

You take another sip from your cup, feeling your insides warm as the thick, hot treat slips down your throat. “When I was a kid, my mom would always make us cocoa when it snowed. Even when we were all grown up and home visiting from college.” A wistful smile pulls across your face, features softening and glowing in the burning orange light cast by the fireplace as you reminisce about those days long since gone.

Thor watches you closely, his own face relaxing in pace with yours. “When I was a child, my mother would have the servants brew barrels and barrels of mead, which we would roll out to the hills and drink dry.” He chortles a bit as a melancholy air envelopes the room. “Mother would come out to gather us in the evening, hurrying us home as we tripped and stumbled and played.” He meets your eyes for just a fraction of a second before dropping his gaze down to the drink in his hands. “She would always make sure we arrived back home safely, neatly tucked into bed as the mead made our heads spin.”

“Wait,” Bucky, murmurs, suddenly looming above you both. You look up at his perplexed visage from the nest of blankets built up beneath you on the floor. “You were drunk? As kids? Your mom gave you beer?”

Thor snuggles deeper into his own warm cocoon and glances up at Bucky with the smallest – and saddest – of smiles. “She did, yes. A wonderful mother indeed.”

You reach out and lay an open palm atop his fleece-clad knee – one he quickly sweeps into his own large hand to squeeze with a grateful air – while glaring at Bucky with a raised and warning brow. Don’t make fun, it says. He was raised in a different culture.

Bucky sighs and offers a glare of his own – Still weird as fuck. – before dropping heavily onto the sofa behind you.

The three of you sit in silence for several long moments… Thor, watching the flames flicker in the fireplace as he continues to grip your hand in a silent plea for strength, for comfort. You, staring idly at the side of his face, gently tracing your thumb over his knuckles, lending what little solace you can. Bucky, squishing into the corner of the couch, as far from you as he can possibly get, watching the interaction from the corner of his eye, feigning disinterest.

A long, drawn-out yawn pulls suddenly from your chest, causing Thor’s attention to snap your way. “You should go rest,” he says with a soft smile. “I must thank you for such a wonderful day. It did quite a lot to lift my spirits.” He pulls your hand up to his lips and lays a tender kiss upon your knuckles. “Truly. Thank you.”

You beam over at him, a slight blush tinging your cheeks. “Anytime,” you mutter with a small, awkward laugh as you set aside your mug and peel your way out of the blankets nestled around you. Bucky leans over and helps you unwind them, wrapping his hand around your ankle as you stand, foot catching clumsily. He says nothing, just flicks away the offending blanket and sets you steadily back on the ground so you can continue on your way. You give him a quick nod of thanks, blush somehow burning brighter when you catch a glimpse of his lovely face tinged orange by the dancing firelight. And you leave, more than ready to curl up into a heap in your warm bed… and await the subtle press of that other body’s heat that so often curls around you once all the others at the compound slink off to bed.

Both Bucky and Thor watch you go, your thick-socked feet sliding and gliding out the door in an innocent ice dance, pulling a tender, loving smile from one and an amused, low chuckle from the other.

“She is rather wonderful, don’t you think?” Thor asks after a long and silent moment. He turns to look at Bucky with an oddly eager expression. “All of the Avengers have been… kind. But none so welcoming. So… caring.”

He nods absently, taking a slow pull from his own mug of cocoa. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Was she such a way with you?” he asks, words dripping with an almost unprecedented level of solemnity from the typically jovial god.

Bucky stares at him for a beat, silently assessing something about him. Or, perhaps, something else altogether. “Yeah,” he says finally, another nod bobbing his head. “Yeah, she was. Might’ve been the only one, really… who seemed to…” he shrugs vaguely. “I don’t know, care.”

“Isn’t the Captain your dearest friend?”

“He is, yeah.” He clears his throat awkwardly. “But Steve… he’s always looking for the guy I used to be. He’s always looking for Bucky Barnes, the kid from Brooklyn. Sometimes it’s like he looks straight through me, just searching for him.”

“And I suppose the others look for the soldier in you,” he offers with a glaring amount of earnestness. “That is who they need on this team, no?” Bucky glances at him, cocks his head, but says nothing. “They always look for the god in me,” he mutters, shifting his gaze back to the fireplace. “To bring down the hammer, as Stark seems so fond of saying.”

“Yeah,” Bucky murmurs softly, the single word swimming in mutual understanding.

Thor turns to him again, shifting to face him bodily. His expression is impassive – sincere – as he says, “It is late, my friend. Perhaps you too should go.” A tiny, sly smile ticks up the corners of his lips. “Go find your lady and make love to her before she falls asleep.” He offers a swift and telling wink and a, “Thank you. For the cocoa,” before turning his attention back to the fire and nestling down deeper into his blankets.

Bucky says nothing at all, stunned speechless for a long moment before the buzzing between his ears halts and he’s able to climb off of the couch. He silently pads from the room, down the hall – with practiced, measured steps – not at all surprised to find your door left ajar.

He slips in soundlessly, just like any other night, and sheds his shoes and socks in the corner, peels off his jeans and shirt. He drops a knee to the edge of your bed, prepares to crawl in and slink beneath the covers, wrap himself around you, peck softly at your neck until he’s met with that delicate, airy giggle that he so desperately craves. But he stops suddenly as his eyes catch a glare from the window.

He pulls back and crosses the room to tug the curtains shut, a thing you so rarely think to do despite the fact that anyone who wanted could peer right into your room. As his fingers close on the thick fabric, he glances out the window, taking in the reflection of the moon on the snow-covered trees, the blanketed grounds… seeing also the reflection of your face in the window pane, features soft and sleepy, heavy lids blinking languidly as you watch him, patiently waiting.

He nods slowly, gaze arcing out over the pristine grounds below before settling back on the reflection of your barely open eyes. “Yeah,” he breathes out, scarcely a whisper, his breath fogging the glass. The smallest, most tender smile tugs at his lips as he pulls the curtains closed. “The most amazing thing in the world.”

#FanFictionairiesClassicTropeChallenge #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #thor #marvel fanfic #marvel #MCU

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sympathyfortheblinderdevil · 5 years

Text

All is Fair

Oh, Dear God. I’ve had an idea for a fic. Tommy is bored with his OBE, MP life. In an attempt to cheer him up, Ada invites him to a fundraising soiree she has organized, and Tommy becomes horny intrigued by a bright young thing.

“I’ve lined up Picassos, Muchas, a couple of Lalique glass figures — lots of up and coming artists.” Ada paced back and forth before Tommy, counting on her fingers the artists whose work would be shown at the charity auction she’d helped to organize for the Grace Shelby Institute. “I snapped them up for a song, but with the crowd I’ve invited all trying to outdo one another they will bring in thousands…” Ada stopped mid-step and stared at her brother. He had insisted on meeting her before the start of business, and after summoning her at such an ungodly hour he didn’t seem to be listening to a single word she said.

“Tommy. Oi, Tommy! Are you listening to me?”

Tommy had been listening. He absorbed every word spoken in his presence, even while he seemed a million miles away. Smoke from a dwindling cigarette curled in a graceful column before his eyes. He was mentally weighing how much money the auction would bring against the amount in his charity reserve account. Of course, he could singlehandedly fund the Institute with the stroke of a pen and skip this whole event, but that wasn’t the point. Publicity was important, and Ada had arranged for all the right people to be seen at his party. That was the point. He knew the rules of the game, but it weighed heavily on him. He was bored with pretending to care about the issues and opinions of the upper-middle class. He craved the gritty realism of Small Heath; the honest observations of the working class meant more to him than the relentless droning of his new peers.

“Yep, Ada, got it,” he sighed as he stood up from his desk and pulled on his jacket. He crossed the room to where she stood and lit another cigarette, seemingly forgetting the one he left burning in the ashtray on his desk. “It should be a resounding success. Thank you for all of your hard work.”

In the clear light of day, Ada could see the strain of the last few years playing out on her brother’s face. His pale blue eyes used to snap with electricity, but now they were slower, deeper, and more contemplative. Not quite sad, but worn and weary. “I know it’s hard for you to go to these things, Tommy, but I’ve invited some bright young people who will make it a bit more bearable. Who knows? You might have fun,” she shrugged and smiled hopefully.

The energy that it took to keep up the façade of a legitimate businessman and Member of Parliament had sapped every ounce of fun from his life. “That wouldn’t be fair, now would it?” he mumbled as he stepped out into the hall and out the door.

***

“Lia, wake up!”

Sunlight streamed in through the window, painting the backs of Lia’s eyelids pink and warming her face. She had stayed up late talking with her cousin the night before, catching up on family gossip and getting the lowdown on her new job.

“Five more minutes,” she mumbled and pulled the sheet over her face. Her mind lazily drifted to thoughts of the upcoming day. She was to train as an assistant librarian; a position made possible by her cousin’s connections at City Hall. Even though she was grateful for the job, the temptation of a few more minutes’ sleep was tough to resist.

“Now! It takes a while to get across town. I stuck my neck out to get you this job, and I won’t have you being late on your first day.”

The rapidly approaching clacking of high heels on hardwood let Lia know that her cousin Jenny meant business, so she threw back the covers and groaned. “I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”

“You’d better be,” Jenny called. “I’ve got fresh scones and tea.”

Jenny’s two up two down in Small Heath, Birmingham was like all the others in her street, except where the other houses were filled to capacity with large families, hers was all but empty. Her mom and dad had moved back to the country, and her brothers were off with their own families, so in order to stave off loneliness, she wrote to invite her favorite cousin to come live with her in Birmingham. “It will be great fun, and there’s a position coming open at the library. They promised to hold it for you. After receiving the letter, Lia and her family decided that the change would do her good. The country was stifling Lia. If she stayed, she had no prospects for anything other than marriage to a local farmer and a brood of children. Birmingham meant freedom and adventure for the restless young woman, so she went.

The pale yellow frock Lia wore stood in sharp contrast to the sooty dark patterned wallpaper in the kitchen. At one time it must’ve been green with pink flowers, Lia mused as she sipped her tea which was the approximate color of the flowers on the wall.

Jenny laid a plate of scones down on the table and eyed her cousin. “You’ll need to get darker dresses, Lia. The mud and soot of Small Heath will make a hash of that.”

Lia rolled her eyes and smiled, “I plan on doing just that with my first paycheck. In the meantime, maybe I should help myself to your closet.”

“Not with those knockers you won’t,” Jenny teased. It felt good to have her cousin in the house, and despite the early hour, they were both in the mood to laugh.

Jenny sipped at her tea and flipped through the morning post until one envelope, in particular, caught her attention. Her lips moved as she whispered under her breath, and her eyes read and reread the writing on the heavily embossed card.

“What’s that?”

“My boss has forwarded an invitation to me. It’s for an art auction at the Grace Shelby Institute.” Jenny’s eyes were wide. “Oh, my God, I can’t believe I’ve been invited!”

“That’s great! Wait, do you have to go with your boss?”

“No, it’s my own invitation, and I get to bring a guest.”

The name Shelby rang a bell with Lia. Jenny read the look on her face and lowered her voice as if Arthur Shelby himself were lurking just outside her door. “Yeah, those Shelbys. But they’ve gone legit. The leader is even an MP now.”

Lia arched an eyebrow, “Legit? How exactly does a razor gang go legit?”

“The Shelbys can bloody well do whatever they want, and we are going to this event. It means a lot to get invited to these things, and I need to show that I can fit in.”

***

The pale blue dress that Lia wore had a low cut back and fringe at the knee, not at all the stuff of a librarian’s wardrobe. She had worn it to a formal engagement party the year before and had been pining away for a reason to wear it again. In a room full of tweeds and sensible shoes, she was a flash of blue sky on a stormy day. Her cousin dressed to blend in with the crowd—perfect for a work event, and Jenny was certainly all business tonight.

While Jenny circulated around the room, Lia availed herself of several glasses of champagne and studied the paintings on offer. As the daughter of a farmer, she had not had many chances to go to museums and galleries, but she loved art and soaked up everything she could read about it. There was an amazing selection of work at the Institute including a cubist piece by Picasso, but what really caught her eye was a group of Art Nouveau paintings by Alphonse Mucha. She stood, sipping her champagne and smiling at a depiction of a woman in a gracefully flowing gown on a backdrop of stars.

“Spectacular, isn’t it?” A sweet feminine voice with a Brummie lilt drew her out of her reverie. Lia turned around to see a woman with porcelain skin, dark bobbed hair, and piercing blue eyes extend a hand toward her.

“Ada Thorne, and you are…”

“Lia Montrose,” she managed to answer in a relatively confident manner. Jenny had mentioned the Shelby’s sister on the way there, but Lia never thought she’d end up in a conversation with her.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance. You know, at most of these things people only glance at the paintings and then try to make business deals for the rest of the night. It’s nice to see someone actually appreciate the art for a change.”

She held up a perfectly manicured finger in the direction of a waiter who immediately brought over a tray of drinks. “Champagne?” She handed Lia a fresh glass without waiting for an answer and then took one for herself. She smiled conspiratorially and raised an eyebrow. “Have you seen the Max Ernst yet?”

“You have an Ernst?” Lia asked, her mouth hanging open for a moment before she realized and closed it.

“Yeah, it’s in the next room. Come on.” She hooked her arm in Lia’s and led her to the next room where, indeed, the promised painting hung.

“It’s bloody amazing,” Lia whispered.

“I probably shouldn’t say this, but I’m sure you could have it for a song. None of the tossers here will recognize its significance.” Ada gently shook her head, and the rubies around her neck caught the light. Lia blushed and looked down. She had not near enough to even make a starting bid on any of the artwork. Ada led Lia around talking about the various works up for auction. She was genuine and warm. Not at all what Lia imagined a Shelby would be like. When Lia explained that she couldn’t actually buy any of the art because she had just started a job as a librarian, Ada commiserated with her about the low pay.

“I was a librarian myself for a time. If it weren’t for my brother Tommy… well, let’s just say I know what it’s like to live on a librarian’s pay...and much, much less”

Ada didn’t expand on her role at Shelby Company Limited, except to say she dealt in imports and exports, and Lia didn’t pry. Even though Ada spoke with a candid ebullience, it seemed safer not to ask questions. As they were discussing the merits of public reading rooms a man entered by a side door and motioned for Ada to come over. “Oh, dear. If you’ll excuse me, I should go to make sure that everything is running smoothly. It was so nice meeting, you Lia.”

“Likewise Mrs. Thorne.”

“Call me Ada,” she warmly smiled and was on her way.

Lia was positively buzzing. She had lost track of time and of how much champagne she had quaffed while talking to Ada. She squinted across the hall into the main room and scanned the crowd for Jenny, who was nowhere to be found. Unbeknownst to her, someone had been watching in admiration as she strolled along.

Another Picasso caught her eye, and she stood squinting and biting her bottom lip as she looked at it. She was so astonished by the colors and lines that she hardly noticed the gentleman who had come to stand beside her and ask her what she thought of it.

“Vastly overrated. I much prefer his blue period...”

As she spoke, she turned to find herself under the gaze of the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. He took her in with an intensity that was slightly lessened when he raised one corner of his mouth and tilted his head a bit. His voice was a low, raspy rumble and Lia felt it in her gut when he tutted and spoke again.

“If our Ada were here, she’d tell you all about how it represents the chaos of war and the destruction wrought by the powerful…how mechanization renders people obsolete…turns us into interchangeable parts.”

Lia stared at him as her mind lurched toward the realization that maybe she shouldn’t have been so candid. Our Ada? “Are you…”

He turned his whole body to face her. “Thomas Shelby. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs…”

As he kissed her hand her breath caught in her throat. She was toe to toe with the most powerful man in Birmingham, and his warm soft lips were currently on her skin. Tommy did not fail to notice the little shiver of electricity that passed between them.

“Miss… Miss Lia Montrose, and the pleasure is all mine.” The heat from his lips on her hand made its way up to her cheeks. She cleared her throat and swirled the champagne in her glass. ��Great party.”

“Party, event, fundraiser, no matter what you call it it’s all about separating this lot from their money. Since my Picasso is shite, tell me, which ones do you like?” There was a hint of mischief in his voice as he spoke.

Tommy liked that there was something different about her. She was younger than the usual patrons of local charities, but the difference seemed to do more with the light in her eyes as she surveyed the room. Bright. The word Ada had used to describe their special guests sprang to his mind. She was one of those bright young things who Ada invited to try to make him have fun. There was a distinct lack of pretense in the way she carried herself. She had spent the evening looking at and chatting about art instead of business, and her honest reaction to his question did not surprise him in the least.

Lia giggled a little and apologized. “I didn’t mean to insult your taste in art, Mr. Shelby…”

“Call me Tommy.” He lazily caressed her body with his eyes.

“…I didn’t know who you were when you asked me.” Lia’s voice quivered, betraying her surprise at the bold way he was looking at her. After all, he was Tommy Shelby, and she was taken aback by the open way in which he was flirting with her.

He took a step closer and raised his eyebrows. “Had you known, would it have changed your answer?”

Lia bit her lip and fought back a smile before answering, “Well, no, but I would have used a bit more tact.” She looked up through her lashes at him.

Tommy held her gaze and waited for her to answer what he had asked previously. She seemed a bit dazed, so he repeated the question. “Which ones do you like?”

She glanced around the room, gathering her thoughts and began, “I really like the Mucha paintings. They are much more organic in how they reflect the beauty found in nature and…” As she trailed off, she realized that Mr. Shelby was still looking directly at her. His unwavering attention coupled with the champagne made it very hard for her to concentrate.

Tommy could see that she was having some difficulty in expressing herself, and he was having quite a lot of fun teasing her. He narrowed his eyes and ran his tongue along his lips. “What makes you think the Picasso is shite?” he asked in an exaggeratingly sincere voice.

She drained her champagne. Liquid courage could only help her current situation. “Personal preference, I suppose. It’s ridiculous,” She leaned closer to him in a conspiratorial manner. “It’s overwrought and pretentious.”

As soon as the words left her mouth Jenny came into view. Her eyes were huge as she gingerly approached Lia and Mr. Shelby.

“Oh, Jenny, let me introduce you to Tommy. We’ve been discussing his art collection.”

Tommy offered a warm greeting to Jenny, who hid her surprise as best she could. “Mr. Shelby, thank you for extending an invitation to my cousin and me.”

“My pleasure. The fine work you’re doing for our city has not gone unnoticed, and I’m happy to show my appreciation. Do you have opinions on art, Miss Montrose? Your cousin is partial to Mucha.”

Lia giggled and smiled up at Tommy, “Well, yeah, of course, I prefer him to Picasso.”

Jenny’s eyes shifted from Lia to Tommy and back again, as she could hardly believe what she was seeing. There was an obvious attraction between them. Lia was fresh from the country and had no way of knowing the gravity of the situation she’d stumbled into. But Jenny did.

She took the empty champagne glass from her cousin’s hand and placed it on a passing tray, “Thank you so much for your hospitality, Mr. Shelby, but we must be going.”

Lia frowned, and Tommy’s demeanor cooled as he turned to face Jenny. “Won’t you stay for the auction?”

“We would love to, but…” Jenny’s excuse was mercifully cut short by an announcement that the auction was beginning.

Tommy shifted his attention back to Lia and slowly shook his head, “It’s a shame, you know. I could use your expertise to run up the bids.”

Lia looked over her shoulder as she walked toward the door and smiled sweetly, “That wouldn’t be fair, now would it, Mr. Shelby.”

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders fiction #peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby x oc

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excorcismic · 4 years

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YES i caved n’ decided to pick up my boy and YES i’m trying ,,, to right a quick rundown and plotting post while yearning for the sweet release of sleep bc orientation sapped me of all my energy BUT !! i’m , , , so excited . to pick up leon . so excited . i love this man more than anything and i’m OVER THE MOON to pick him up so let’s get on with it before i repeat myself one more time !!

IN A CANON NUTSHELL : so leon is a character originating from resident evil 2 ; he’s considered one of the chief protagonists of the series , but not the first . in his first appearance he’s a rookie cop and his first day on the job , raccoon city is overrun by zombies ( infected humans rather than the undead , though ) and after that day . . . leon can’t do it & because of his heroism for dealing with the raccoon city debacle , he’s made into a government agent instead . in resident evil 4 , he’s tasked with rescuing ashley - the president’s daughter - and ends up uncovering & battling a cult known as the los illuminados as they have their own zombie virus known as the plaga . then . . . in resident evil 6 dude ends up actually . killing the president because of the president getting infected with a zombie virus . long story short , leon’s been through a shit ton of zombie apocalypses ( and other monsters the virus creates ) and he’s exhausted . he tries to go on a vacation and then chris redfield busts in like that dancing paul rudd gif so even THEN homie can’t catch a break . but he’s a very good dude & perhaps one of the most good-hearted , selfless people on the planet - it’s just sad because he started out with so much hope and after witnessing so much horror that hope fades and is replaced with exhaustion & even a bit of cynicism . but not enough as to where he turns into a person that won’t give you the shirt off his back because oh yeah , he is . he’s just maybe a bit more distant and doesn’t smile as much as he used to .

IN AN ALUCARD NUTSHELL : so leon is a former paramedic ( that sometimes still is called to do things ) turned hospital nurse - he was known for being the hero of the story multiple times in horrifying cases , and he’s overall gotten a pretty good reputation as a medic . however , the reason why he moved onto nursing was because the stress got too much for him for those dire situations after his divorce from his wife - miss cordelia chase . and now he’s just kind of trying to get through things but . things aren’t the best on his end even though he’ll try his best to power on through . he’s pretty okay but not great you know ??

BUT OOOOHHHH YOU WANNA PLOT WITH LEON SO BAD OOOOHHH

just to start off by saying idk if this list will be as long as misa’s bc it’s currently shortly after midnight and i’m getting more and more tired & incoherent as the clock just ticks away -

BUT ANYWAY . ppl who routinely come into the office / hospital he works at would be p cool and know him pretty well as a nurse from that . he doesn’t work in the ER most of the time ; though sometimes . he mainly is in the office doing stuff for checkups and all , clinical things . honestly tho it would be a bit of an interesting connection if sb went to the ER for embarrassing / stupid reasons ( party gone embarrassingly wrong , for example ) and leon’s the guy that has to help with it . just a Thought .

also coworkers !! idk if we have anyone from the medical field yet but there’s also that .

again he was married to cordelia so if ppl who know cordelia know him as cordelia’s ex-husband we can run w/ that and make smth out of that as well .

leon is also . kinda . lonely . like misa . can y’all see I Have A Type when it comes to muses AHHH - but anyways he spends a lot of his nights at bars and stuff so maybe some drinking/bar buddies he sticks with or the like . maybe waiters/bartenders who know him pretty well just from the fact he’s a regular , kinda know what’s going on with the dude .

like misa , neighbors . he’s not a spunk twenty-four year-old emo-fashioned mr. rogers like misa is but he’s a caring dude who looks out for them .

speaking of caring - maybe some ppl leon’s saved as a paramedic or in general just patients he treated for a while ?? i just . rly like the thought of leon caring for people on the job and then he finds them outside of it and he subtly cares for them off the job too . maybe even if it’s doing as much as sitting with them or comforting them when a loved one’s in the hospital or something . idk i just . like how much leon cares abt people .

okay so people from high school bc i lowkey headcanon leon wasn’t a troublemaker but he was more of a bad boy/rebel type just for the fact he had a tendency to do things that weren’t . by the rules . by the book . never mean or anything just maybe sometimes would hang out at abandoned buildings or late at night and now he’s significantly mellowed out and maybe that rebel is still somewhere inside of him but ur gonna have to dig it out a bit . and this could rly be anything too like friends , enemies , exes ( leon is bi u can pry that from my cold dead hands ) , etc . prom / homecoming dates , people who only knew him as a kid that got busted once for drinking alcohol in the back of somebody’s truck , etc . let’s have Fun with this .

also in general , just some good friends he’s always had ?? people who’ve known him for a long while and have still stuck with him .

exes !! whether it be pre-marriage or post-divorce . post-divorce i don’t think leon would rly stick in the relationship for long given he more than likely was not prepared at the time ( probably didn’t go past a few months , def some were just one-shot dates ) . again , he’s bi & capcom cannot take that away from me .

maybe a found family of sorts - leon . . . would be a great dad so maybe some younger folks he kinda dads over without meaning to .

AND AGAIN RLY . . . anything i’m sorry if this isn’t as detailed as misa’s bt IF I GET MORE IDEAS I SHALL ADD !!

this is long again i’m so sorry bt again react or like if ur interested in any of these connections !! imma retire 2 mobile n try to get some shut-eye .

#░ ★ abt . ❛ 🇦🇳🇩 🇩🇪🇸🇵🇮🇹🇪 🇪🇻🇪🇷🇾🇹🇭🇮🇳🇬﹐ 🇮·🇲 🇸🇹🇮🇱🇱 🇭🇺🇲🇦🇳 / leon s. kennedy #dhq.plots #alcohol mention

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lognecro · 3 years

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I’m getting job training at Bonehaven learning center

I’m typing this on my phone because I don’t have a computer, but i’m hoping to get one in the next month. Anyways, my name is Logan, and I had no direction in life. I was born on March 22, 2003, so i’ll be 18 in about a month. I have a few interesting things about me that might be important for this blog. I am autistic, I suffer from several mental disorders that cause psychosis, anger issues, and in general destructive behavior. I dropped out of high school midway through junior year, and have been through the process of getting my ged while holding down a job at a grocery store.

I don’t know when but my parents found out about a program called Job Corps, and I filled out an application. I’ll be going to the Bonehaven center in Oregon, where I will be trained in SAPS(Security and protective services). This should be happening in the next few months, but since right now my life is doing pretty poorly social wise, I thought writing a journal might help. I don’t like being trapped in my own bubble though, so i’m doing a blog. Instead of screaming my thoughts onto paper, i’ll be doing it into the void that is the internet.

My hobbies include reading and writing, listening to music, and practicing bass(I’m not very good at it). I’m hoping in the future though to write my own music, or at least perform in a band. My main dream is to become a ghost and monster hunter though, traveling the United States checking out hotspots of folklore and supernatural activity. Sadly I have to focus on reality, and that’s why I am doing SAPS with Job Corps, I’m not an idiot but i’m not the smartest guy either, and despite me having a bit of a weight issue, when i’m working out regularly I have body builder muscles and i’m absolutely swol.

Right now me and my friends are going through a rough patch, I spend too much money and time on my friend Ivy, while I barely spend time with Jenny. It doesn’t help that they hate each other and refuse to be in the same room together. Ivy is super needy and texts me every day to hang out, which makes me irritable most of the time so I usually lie and say I’m working because I need my alone time. Jenny never texts me and I rarely see her cause she lives a couple towns over, and I don’t have my license yet so I always have to ask for a ride.

I’m hoping to get my license soon, but with this pandemic, it’s been nearly impossible to get an appointment set up. I have this old convertible Chrysler that my grandma gave me, it needs a new battery and hood, and before I take it in to get fixed, I have to scrub the inside down with bleach because of all the mold. It’s a really nice car though and I hope to have it running in a couple months. I have a bit of an energy drink addiction and right now I’m in love with these zero calorie, 300 mg caffeine drinks. I get the new red dragon flavor and it’s just a really good and smooth fruit punch flavor.

At my job, I’m the closing parcel, so i’m the guy pushing carts and cleaning the restrooms, though I refuse to clean the womens restroom after I had done my whole *knock knock* “HOUSEKEEPING, ANYBODY INSIDE?!?!?” routine, and nobody answered, so I walked in and in the first stall, a woman was...having some fun I guess, awkward thing was she stared me in the eyes and only did it more furiously, so I just don’t go in there anymore. My bosses are generally very pleasant and easy to work with, except for Big Bitch and Little Bitch, who I will not say their names as to not reference their names.

Big Bitch has no idea how to manage people, and has a thick accent that makes it very hard to understand him. He’s the one that tells me to go vacuum the front lobby when the cart bays are over flowing and people are complaining. Little Bitch has absolutely no empathy or awareness of his surroundings, he generally wanders off to go talk to customers or check his phone, while he lets the assistant manager do all the hard work of managing the front end. The assistant managers are the people I can actually respect, because they’re real people instead of an annoying character that only exists to make my day harder.

In general I don’t have to do much most days, and take long breaks because people often don’t use carts or make massive messes, you’d think they would but it’s only happen a couple times in the year i’ve worked here. At home I live in a repurposed bathroom, where the sink, bathtub, and toilet had all been removed and paved over to turn the room into an exceptionally large storage room, where I have a twin sized bed, a tv, and an xbox that I never play. Often at night, I can hear my parents having sex over my music because the walls are so thin. Getting drunk or high helps, but most days I just turn the tv up high or listen to music via my headphones.

I’m going to be switching to a flip phone, because I want to stop using social media as often, and I just think they’re cool. I love old tech. I’m making the switch after I get a laptop, so that i’ll still have a way to update this blog. Anyways I’ve, recently been getting into the occult, mainly to explain my prophetic dreams that are either random events that i’m going to experience or end of the world scenarios that happen in other universes. My mom had the ability to see and conjure the dead, and my brothers inherited that ability, but I didn’t. While i’m sensitive to the supernatural, I can’t perceive what’s around me, only what’s in my head

I initially thought it was some sort of schizophrenia the voices in my head, but even after taking anti psychotics and getting monthly injections, they never went away. I never told anybody though, because I don’t want to go to a hospital again. I’ve been trying to categorize and place the voices, but they’re not the same every time, and they’re not talking to me. They’re just talking, it’s like eavesdropping on a conversation that doesn’t exist, but yet some how, the information I hear is usually about the people around me, some random stuff, and me. I’m currently in the small break room, with an ear bud in my right ear and two conversations going on to my left.

One is my coworkers talking to each other, and the other one is a man talking to a woman, I don’t really know what it’s about but a few snippets are “Yeah I piss in the milk, they can’t tell though. I’ve managed to open a door, gonna try to do that again soon. I made about 3 kids cry again, honestly if I could I’d make a career out of it”

Just random things like that, in general though the conversation seems to be about somebody named and I don’t know how this is spelt so this is a guess, “Hephitus” I have no idea who that is, but it seems like they’re talking about a person. I hear this name every now and then, but they dropped this name a few times and in general it’s them just verbally shitting on him/her, pretty much what I do when i’m talking about somebody. I typically ignore these convos but right now i’m bored, so I got nothing better to do. I have to go back to work now though, so Imma go. I’m going to try posting daily, so let me know what you think. This has been Logan or LogNecro, and this is my blog

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deniigi · 5 years

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What can I do to convince you to write more Peter B? Peter B in his universe doing Peter B things and in other universes doing Peter B things. Peter B and his MJ and his kid and his wade and his miles and his job and his 40 year old energy.

you do not have to convince me, friend.

I was rereading rippling last night and having all kinds of emotions.

straight up? Peter B is my 2nd favorite Spidey to write.

I glanced through my drafts and found this little piece which I started working on from a prompt someone sent me about Peter B trying to tame his Matt (it got a little too big to post on tumblr, and I lost focus halfway through writing it, but whoever you are–it is in motion! 👍👍👍 Thanks hella for that prompt)

Anyways have a bit of this to tide you over for now lol. I might do some more on Peter B when I’m done throwing myself all over campus this week.

–

“Okay, Egg, here we go. Are you ready?”

Egg settled back on her haunches and started to sit back in anticipation of outsmarting Peter in what was becoming her usual favorite way.

It was looking cute.

Peter was a fucking sap.

“Shake,” he said, holding out a hand.

Egg looked at it, then looked up at him.

“Come on, you did it yesterday. Shake!”

Peter held out his palm. Egg Salad stared at him with huge, empty eyes. She gazed upon his soul.

“Shake,” Peter tried again hopefully.

Egg tentatively stretched out a paw with splayed toe beans to reach Peter’s fingers. She tapped at them a couple of times, then retracted the paw and meowed.

“You are brilliant,” Peter whispered to her. “Many treats. All of the treats.”

MJ caught him on the third one.

–

MJ said that Peter was a chronic child-spoiler and an incorrigible pet-spoiler and so his contact with both ought to be limited or supervised.

Unfortunately, MJ could not be assed to limit or supervise him and he refused to be stopped in his crusade of making babies laugh on trains—no matter how much it annoyed other commuters—so the world at large was just going to have to suffer.

Miles took the brunt of it these days. Between him and Egg, Peter was plenty distracted.

Miles took the cooing with far less grace than the train-babies.

“It is Silent Spidey time,” Miles snapped at him when the two of them were presented with a field full of rabbits and one very harried-looking park keeper.

But there were bunnies.

“But nothing,” Miles said. “Where did they even come from? How did they get here?”

The park keeper didn’t know. As far as he was aware, none of these fluffy white beasties were native to his neck of the woods, and they certainly hadn’t been there the night previous.

“This looks like a job for—” Peter started.

“Silent Spidey,” Miles interrupted.

Peter pouted. Miles ignored him as though he was a wet, empty bag of Doritos on the pavement.

In retaliation for such callousness, Peter began scheming up an attention-seeking plan which could not be ignored and left Miles to chat with the park keeper while he sought out inspiration. The rabbits might be fun. He could steal them and load them up into an attic and then have them all somehow collapse on top of Miles tribble-style.

But would Miles get the joke?

Did kids these days even know what tribbles were?

Had the golden days of Star Trek passed them all by?

Hm.

Well, it might be funny anyways.

His attention caught onto the shape of a man dressed in black, frozen on the edge of the park, staring out into it. His companion in a blue suit pushed him, but the black suit was stuck to the pavement in awe.

Or what Peter was pretty sure was awe; it was hard to tell with Matt Murdock if he was amazed at your apparently bottomless stupidity or if he wanted whatever it was you were presently holding. From a distance, though, Peter was going to go ahead and say that in this case, he wanted a bunny.

Not to eat. Murdock wasn’t the kind of guy to be going around eating dead doves or goats or chickens whatever it was that people left out for the devil occasionally. As far as Peter was aware, anyways. Things might have changed in the last month or so since Nelson came back into the picture.

Nelson over there by the sidewalk, bless him, gave Murdock another gentle nudge in the direction of the street, emphatically away from the rabbits.

Murdock made harsh, flailing gestures at him and Nelson threw up defensive hands and even though Peter was a ways away, he could hear the conversation of ‘NO’ and ‘Jesus, okay, okay’ crystal clear in his head.

Abbott and Costello those two could be, if only they managed not to break up their act every other year.

Oh.

Now there was a vengeance idea.

#fic #into the multiverse #peter b parker #my man #my bro #my dude #ficlet

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owenepierce · 4 years

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Sparks Fly || Para

Who: Sam Evans & Owen Pierce

When: July 4th, 2020

Where Out by the lake, Ozarks, Missouri

Notes: Owen pulls off the prank Sue assigned, and somehow it still winds up being cute af. @sammythedominant @miss-sue-sylvester

While Blaine was off hiking with his brothers (or brother, depending on the state of affairs between Blaine and Eric) Sam and Owen made the decision to head to the beach for their free time during the afternoon. Holding hands, they walked through the trail leading out to the shoreline and set up camp on the beach. It was a gorgeous day. There was a light breeze, but not enough to take away from the heat - meaning it was the perfect weather for a swim in the admittedly cold lake. Dropping his backpack in the sand, Owen wrapped his arms around Sam's middle and pressed a kiss to the man's chest. "I'm so frickin' happy right now, it's ridiculous." It was true, too. This trip was one that Owen knew he'd never forget, and it wasn't even half over yet.

Sam kept his own arm around Owen's shoulder, keeping the submissive close as they walked. He smiled as they made their way to the beach, and then chuckled as Owen pressed a kiss to his chest. "Good. If I have my way, I'm gonna spend a long time making you and Blaine very happy," Sam murmured, as he turned his head and pressed a kiss into Owen's hair. "You didn't want to go for a hike with the Andersons? I bet Blaine would've wanted you to, if you did."

Owen smiled even broader against Sam's chest in response to the other's words. "You're almost as much of a sap as I am, sir." He stated with a giggle, hugging himself a little tighter to the dom before he relented and stepped back a bit, still keeping his arm around Sam's torso as he looked out at the lake. Owen laughed weakly at Sam's suggestion. "Uhh, no. I don't think putting myself in the middle of the woods with Eric is like...the best idea right now. I know we'll get to a place where we can be friends, but right now I think giving each other some space is the best way to go about it. Besides, Blaine should have the time alone with his siblings - maybe it'll give them a chance to smooth over any issues I've caused..." Owen said a bit sadly, his bottom lip pouting out a little bit.

Sam shook his head instantly, and instinctively. "Stop that. You're not to blame here. This is just one of those things that happen when we're all crammed into one campus and expected to find people to live our lives with," Sam said firmly, before he reached out and ran his thumb over Owen's bottom lip. "It's amazing that this kinda thing doesn't happen more. But you did nothing wrong, and neither did me and Blaine, and neither did Eric," Sam reassured Owen gently.

Owen listened to Sam and the more he did, the more it actually made perfect sense. There was no way he could've known how well he'd mesh with Sam and Blaine when he first met Eric. Everything just kind of fell into place so perfectly and almost without any of them noticing there was nothing to be done at this point, and Owen felt like he was just wasting energy harping on it. "You're right," Owen stated with a sigh. "I just have to keep faith that everything will calm down on its own. In the meantime, though - I'm gonna stop bumming both of us out." He turned and pressed a quick kiss against Sam's lips. "Thank you, though. For making me feel better about the whole thing, and for being so understanding." Owen turned his gaze back to the lake in front of them. "We should go swimming soon! I'm a little overheated from hiking out here."

Sam smiled as Owen seemed to understand his point. He cuddled the submissive a little closer to him, and nodded. "I think it will. Eric's not the type to hold grudges, which is good because me and him have argued a few times," Sam admitted, with a shrug of his shoulders. "He just needs some time, which I think is fair," he added, before chuckling and nodding at Owen's promise to stop bumming them out. He grinned as Owen gave him a quick peck on the lips, and nodded at his suggestion. "Well...I don't bring any swimming gear with me, dude," Sam sighed dramatically, not even bothering to attempt to hide a grin.

Owen's interest was definitely a little piqued at the notion that Sam and Eric had argued before - but in the spirit of laying the topic to rest, he figured that it was best he ignore his curiosities and move on. Laughing at Sam's show of faux-dramatics, Owen nudged the dom playfully and rolled his eyes. "Oh no." Owen sighed out with the same amount of grandiose. "What ever will we do, sir? I can't have my king out here sweltering in this heat! I guess you'll just have drop the pants of go out in your birthday suit..." Owen toyed with the waistband of Sam's shorts, very purposefully dipping his fingers under the fabric to trace up the v-line of his hips. "Don't worry, though - as your prince, I'll skip the swimsuit too. As if you wouldn't order me not to wear one anyway..." Owen added teasingly.(edited)

Sam grinned as Owen nudged him, and started to play along. "Oh, no, I guess you're right," Sam laughed, as he Owen began to play with his waistband. His dick gave a little twitch at the thought of both of them skinny-dipping right now, and knew it was going to be a lot of fun. "Oh, I'd definitely order you not to wear one, you're right," Sam laughed, as he took over, and didn't hesitate to push down his shorts, leaving his naked from the waist down. "Come on, dude, let's hit that lake," he grinned eagerly.

No sooner had Owen slipped his fingers under Sam's waistband than Sam took it upon himself to drop his pants completely, leaving him clad in nothing but his shoes - which he quickly kicked off. Owen couldn't help the proud little smirk at the fact that Sam's cock was definitely starting to thicken at the mere idea of being naked together. Granted, Owen was dealing with a situation of his own, but he was always especially proud when he had that effect on Sam. "Alrighty, go wait for me by the water. I'm gonna get undressed - don't go in without me, though!" Owen brushed past Sam, making sure to give his cock a little tug as he did so. Squatting down to open his backpack, he saw the firecrackers Sue had given him earlier and an idea instantly dawned on him. Looking out to the water, he saw Sam standing there - cut, chiseled back, perfect ass, hands on his hips...it was a sight that had Owen melting on the spot. "Sir, you look so good! Stay there, I wanna take a picture... Just...look out at the water. It'll be a candid shot!" Owen called out, quickly shedding off his clothes and snatching up the firecrackers and the accompanying lighter. "St...Stay there, don't move! The lighting's like - perfect right now." Owen said as he hurriedly set up the firecrackers in the sand a safe distance away but close enough for the sound to get a definite reaction. Once the firecrackers were set up, Owen swiftly planted his phone on his backpack, turned his camera on, and began recording. "Just a few more, sir! These are coming out so, so well." Owen called out again, trying desperately not to laugh. Finally, he lurched forward and lit the firecrackers before stepping back and letting them go off with a loud BANG!(edited)

Sam was a little surprised Owen didn't want to just quickly strip off and run into the lake with him, but laughed a little as Owen promised to follow, and played with Sam's cock for a moment. "Eager boy," Sam teased, before he jogged down to the lake. He grinned as he looked out to the water and let Owen take as many shots as he liked. "These better not end up on instagram, Owen! My Mom would have a heart attack!" he called out, grinning to himself as he imagined his mother's scream as she scrolled her regular insta feed of recipes and her children's accounts. He rolled his eyes playfully as Owen promised it was just a few more shots, and was about to finally turn around to call Owen over into the lake, when he heard the noise. Sam practically jumped out of his skin with fright. He let out a yell before he toppled over, and fell, butt-first, into the water. "What the FUCK!" he yelled out, his eyes wide.

Owen brought a hand to his mouth as he laughed, but that technique to keep his giggles at bay was very quickly made useless when Sam completely fell over into the water. Clutching his stomach, Owen doubled over in giggles, his eyes tearing up as he did so. He barely managed to pull himself together enough to end the recording on his phone, slip it into his backpack and job around the smoking firecrackers and down to the shore, where Sam still was - sitting waist-deep in the lake. Catching Sam's bewildered expression, Owen broke out into laughter once more. "I-...hahaha I'm sorry. Oh my god! Your face!" Owen kept giggle, breathing heavily as he tried to regain his composure. "I'm sorry! Sue made me!" He called out, having a sinking feeling that Sam would be paying him back very, very soon.(edited)

Sam was lost for words for a few moments, as he heard Owen giggling. He knew he'd been pranked, but he still wasn't sure what had happened. He was still sat in the edge of the lake, and blinked as he realised Owen had moved, and was now laughing right next to him. As soon as Owen declared he was sorry and that Sue had made him do it, he reached out for the sub's arm and pulled down into the water, making him sit on Sam's lap. "Oh, you are so going to get it, Owen," Sam grinned at the submissive, and shook his wet hair.

Owen squealed as he was pulled into the water and into Sam's lap. "Ack, sir! It's cold!" Owen continued to laugh and giggle in spite of himself, wrapping his arms around Sam's shoulders and leaning back as the taller blonde shook out his soaking wet hair, spraying lake water all over him. Before long, they were both equally wet and laughing together. Catching his breath, Owen leaned in, resting his forehead against Sam's. "I really am sorry... Coach Sue was offering points for us to do these pranks. We get points and a day pass in exchange for doing it, though - and I thought you and I could use the pass to do something fun sometime." He pouted at Sam and shifted his weight so that he was straddling the dom in the water. "Don't be maaad." He drawled out playfully, still trying to stifle his giggles.

Sam laughed as Owen complained about the cold water, and didn't hesitate to hold the submissive close to him. He wanted to be sure Owen was safe in the water, but he also wanted to keep him as close as possible. He smiled fondly as Owen rested their foreheads against each other, and he nodded gently. "It's okay, you don't have to keep apologising," Sam promised. "That sounds like a great idea, we should definitely do that," he chuckled lightly, as Owen moved to straddle him. "Oh, I'm not mad. But I definitely think I'm glad I packed your pretty pink cage," Sam teased, as he reached down into the water to touch Owen's shaft.

Owen's breath hitched when Sam's hand wrapped around his length under the water. Letting out a little huff, he nodded gently, a twinkle of playfulness in his blue eyes. "I guess I totally had that coming, huh?" He rocked forward, tucking himself in against Sam so that the dominant's cock was tucked upwards between his bare ass cheeks. Rutting down a little he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Sam's lips, wrapping his arms around the other's neck and letting out a slight moan into the exchange. When they broke apart, Owen brushed Sam's wet bangs to the side, similarly to the way he had on that first night they spent together, when they talked on the bleachers after cheer practice. Sighing, he smiled down at Sam, taking a moment to really study the other's face. "You're kinda like...beautiful, y'know that?"(edited)

Sam grinned a little, and shrugged his shoulders. "You're not being punished, or anything like that. I want to make sure you know that," Sam said gently, and then groaned as Owen moved, and his dick pressed against the submissive's naked ass cheeks. He licked his lips, as he watched Owen while the submissive brushed his wet hair to the side. "Have you even seen yourself?" Sam asked in a quiet tone, as he reached up to gentle run his fingertips along Owen's cheek. "You're the beautiful one, sweet boy."

"I know, don't worry." He assured Sam, cutely nuzzling his nose against the dominant's. He used to think of chastity as some kind of punishment, but as he got more and more into the kink with Sam, he'd been viewing it more-so as little more than a focus-shift. It was a way of ensuring that every ounce of his attention was on pleasuring Sam. It also tended to make that moment when he finally earned his own pleasure all the sweeter. Owen leaned into Sam's touch, his eyes fluttering a bit as his smile broadened. "When you say it, I actually believe it..."

[fade to black...]

#para #para: sam evans #sam evans #sparks fly #camping

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steve0discusses · 5 years

Text

Yugioh S4 Ep1 Part 2: The Soul Stealing Motorcycle Card Gang With an Australian Accent

So a lot of things that happen at once in this episode, and one of the wild things is something that has been building for 3 entire seasons of Yugioh but because all this other stuff is happening, it’s like...secondary. Slowly, we’ve been watching all of these cards becoming more and more real to the point that yes, they are in fact Physical now--other people are noticing, it’s finally happening. the cards are finally real. Magic exists. This is a very big deal.

Like I’ve seen some of y’alls comments about how S4 is kind of crazy and well...cards becoming real was my one and only guess as to what crazy thing could happen in S4 and that happened halfway through the first episode so...it’s all uphill from here

But what’s crazy about this is that although this has been built up for so long, all our main characters are so freakin distracted, that they look up at the sky and see...youknow...this tapestry here:

And treat it like they’re looking at a flock of really weird birds or something. Like this is world breaking, terrifying, end of the world, Independence Day level red alert and yet instead of the military marching down and shooting lasers at all of these things, everyone is going to just simply walk home.

No one is going to evacuate. Yugi’s Dad isn’t going to show up in a Mad Max style motorcycle in jean cutoffs and be like “I knew it was happening, Son, this is what I’ve been doing for the past 3 years PS, it was worth it now, huh?” no, that isn’t happening.

Instead we’re going to very patiently, and very carefully just not panic and walk home.

Everyone’s just gonna...walk on the sidewalk home, huh? Patiently follow traffic laws? Wait for the light to turn red and everything?

No one even slightly wants to know what any of these monsters taste like? Just me? I mean this is your one opportunity to cook and eat a scapegoat and you know that thing’s got to be delicious under barbecue sauce.

And the funny thing is, people saw this happening and was like “I should call that game company and let them know that there’s real ass dragons that look like their video game flying around.”

Like imagine that Nintendo became real and there’s just...Goombas everywhere. Would I be...calling the Nintendo Hotline?

Hell No. I would be checking all food blogs everywhere for how to roast a Goomba on a grill, because you KNOW those things would be nuts after a few hours in a marinade, draped with fried egg on rice.

But in Yugioh, they’re like calling up Kaiba Corp and hoping that customer service can somehow make the living, breathing dragons and whatever that flying turtle thing was just...stop existing. They’re pretty sure Kaiba can “turn off” the flying monsters.

I think I’m still spelling it wrong, too.

Also, Kuriboh is real now and that...sucks.

That’s a lot of gross hair just flying around and I guarantee it’s gonna give everyone lice. That nasty ass sentient ball of hair you pulled out of your shower drain is just...flying around outside with huge googly eyes.

Freakin sucks. You can’t possibly eat a Kuriboh, it’s way too much hair and I guarantee when you skin that thing it’s like just a meatball to put on the tiniest little skewer and that’s it.

Sorry Bro just informed me that Kuriboh is a ghost??????

???

Also one of the cards is straight up an American Quarter.

I just want to bring up that there’s one (1) cursed ass American Quarter somewhere on Earth and that is going to be a real shocker for the one person that picks up that Quarter and doesn’t realize that when you flip it, it can kill people.

And I just did hunt to figure out what the hell the quarter card is called and I’m starting to think maybe the the show made it up? Wtv my memory is patchy when it comes to the cards.

And for all the cards that are just people but with more muscles, what are they gonna do? Is Dark Magician gonna have to go try and get a reception job to pay the bills? Is anyone going to hire Dark Magician in this economy?

(read more under the cut)

On their pleasurable walk home amongst all the horrible abominations and I guess a couple of bizarre magician hats floating around, they come across...this:

They just left them there in the middle of the street next to this nasty ass Gecko that would ABSOLUTELY eat them.

Also that Gecko...that’s just an alligator that can climb walls, right? Like this is Florida level of insane terrible creature you never want to have climbing walls? That was the one thing we had on alligators--vertical walls.

Youknow, Florida is probably the only place on Earth in this Universe that is actually completely fine.

On the other side of town, Roland is having his best day ever.

I do enjoy that Roland's line was “Mr Kaiba assured me that it’s not their company’s fault” which makes it sound sort of like he had some serious doubts. And might still have some serious doubts. And that he’s so sure that it was Kaiba, that he’s just going to say the “company” isn’t to blame.

And so they decided, well instead of evacuating the city, lets go have dinner at the Muto house. So, they all decided to not check in with everyone else’s parents and family and instead had a fun hang out sesh and watched TV.

They went to school with this guy.

Like they went to school with this guy like a month ago and now he’s giving press conferences in front of a dictator-style tapastry.

The imposter syndrome in Domino High must be pretty wild if you’re always getting compared to Seto Kaiba, is all I’m saying. Maybe that’s why the rest of the class has just decided to drop out.

*Cut to Pegasus’ island where there’s like 80 dead wife zombies running around and Pegasus and Croquet have locked themselves into the bathroom while they watch the zombie wives eat whatever’s left of PaniK.*

It looks like my dream ending of Yugioh, that Seto Kaiba’s company gets sued to hell and back and everyone goes to prison isn’t quite realized yet but it’s looking slowly and surely more real every day.

Kind of surprising that they assume so quickly that Kaiba is lying when they’re sitting next to Pinocchio over here.

So once you think, well...they can’t add more to this episode, no, we’re just gonna straight up knock out Yugi’s Grandpa...again. He needs a life alert. Does Yugi wear a life alert?

And you’d think they’d assume that a monster did this, right? Nah. It’s people. Real ass people did this but not one of the many huge ass monsters that apparently are kind of like Pokémon and don’t feel like doing more than just flap their arms and sit on stuff.

Anyways, the God Cards are gone. Goodbye, Deux ex Machina cards.

Feel a little bad for the one building just directly under the shadow of obelisk, looking up and just seeing a giant, glittery, blue ass.

And then a whole bunch of motorcycles showed up??? Like MOTORCYCLES. And I was like “BRO are they gonna play cards on motorcycles!?” because one of the only reasons I decided “OK Bro, lets actually watch Yugioh” is, and I’ve said this before, because someone mentioned on twitter that they’ll play cards on motorcycles but no.

No one plays cards on motorcycles this episode, they just show up to rev their engines and shine their brights.

Also at least one of them has like the thickest stage Australian accent and it is...rough. He said “bum” once instead of “butt” and you could tell it was just...they said bum to make him sound a little bit more Aussie because we don't really know how to do Australian in the States. We don’t know how this accent works, I’m so sorry.

But anyways, apparently after the God Cards got their energy sapped out, they can now just...be played by whomever? Not entirely clear.

And then they just...drove away.

Like they drove away without even telling them where to go?

And I was like...maybe they just went to that building under construction right there that is...somehow directly across from Yugi’s house which is...directly across from a super wide 12 laned street?

But...that can’t be right, right? I’m sometimes a little confused by the geography of this show but it’s a cartoon and they’re hard to make so we’ll forgive it.

Anyway, while Grandpa Muto counts up the damages to send to the insurance company, they figure out where to go, probably by following the God Cards which are...summoned here like holograms although...they are real? Right?

Like...

...so if there’s monsters just flying around, and it’s all the monsters of the duel monster deck, then there is a version of Slither just hanging out somewhere already, right? Or is the one they summon with the card the real Slither?

The show never thought that hard about it honestly. You can both play duel monster cards which I believe are no longer holograms when you play them and also they just inherently exist now so...Lets not think about it and just go to a brand new fight club roof. You know how much these kids love construction equipment.

Also is this the roof of a freakin IKEA? Look at the size of that thing.

This cultist just begging for Seto Kaiba to run a helicopter straight into him. Which Seto would probably do all over again if Seto were here.

I guess Seto decided to either go the hell to sleep and hope tomorrow will prove today was a bad dream, or he is celebrating the very best day of his life with his brother, sight seeing all the dragons and desperately trying to lure the dragons into his home with carrots under a box trap or something.

This guy ABSOLUTELY does Shakespeare in the park and only gets like minor, very minor roles, right? Like he’s the understudy for King Lear’s manservant who has no speaking lines and just pours water into a cup in one scene? And he takes it VERY seriously?

Yo these side burns.

So bro was like, who do you think would have more product in their hair? This guy or Yugi? And it’s like..well...here’s the thing about Yugi’s hair, he’s got a lot of product, but he has enough scalp to tease the hell out of it. But how do you tease your side burns? How do you tease your side burns so they have the lift of an old timey moustache? you can’t. Those side burns are 90% Elmers glue.

Hello there, offbrand Final Fantasy guy I see you got a Cloud shoulder pad but you wear two of them.

...

It’s a look they chose.

I...there’s a lot going on with all of these looks, especially the guy who is straight up wearing pieces of armor on his shoulders in the middle here for no reason but oh I will get to the looks when we see them in more detail later.

But it’s like, do you think Mr Monocle, who’s only character design trait is a single Monocle, will stay in the show very long? Compared to these guys?

Hm.

I guess we will see.

Thanks, Pegasus.

Thanks for giving us absolutely NO heads up about any of your disaster cards you produced and let loose across the world. Congrats on that. Congrats on printing this freakin card that steals people’s souls and delivering it out there where children could find it in their happy meals.

Like do you think he printed the Orichalcos card before or after the God Cards? Because I’d like to think that he finished up shoving the God Cards onto Ishizu and then was like “phew, crisis averted” and then immediately painted a weird geometric shape and was like “Damn it! I did it again!? Every time I decide not to paint my dead wife I just paint something even worse!”

Anyways, it’s aesthetic takes me back to a much simpler time of my life, and when it shows up the Titanic song pops up in my head? I can’t explain it. It’s just very...very...

It just screams edgy Riverdance to me, maybe it’s just me, but I feel like it should be accompanied by Enya? Just me? The runes just seem very old world Europe.

Bro really wants these to be the runes above Noah’s fireplace and he’s been holding this in for like an entire season, but that’s not going to happen.

Because I have the receipts:

Evidence again that Noah’s fireplace was just what Noah thought art was, since he’s a computer and all. He rendered perfect fire and then got to the art and was like fuuuuuuuuuuu just like anyone else who first gets into Unity.

Anyway, Joey got knocked over, so Pharaoh decided to save his friends and it got him nowhere because, like we already figured out last episode and basically more and more every episode of Yugioh, Pharaoh is a freakin idiot.

So fun fact about the 00′s I’m sure everyone here fondly remembers unless you’re 12 (in which case, why are you on tumblr?) Remember how much we were OBSESSED with glowy blue-green lines and dots on everything in concept art? I really think that trend lasted until about James Cameron’s Avatar when we realized “we took it too far y’all” and then it just kinda died. Still hangs around, but it’s not quite as obvious as the 00′s when it was like “ah I see you have a glowy pastel magicky thingy in your art. A+, lets put it in a grimdark dystopian YA fiction.”

...It was a phase and seeing this shade of green as a glow just really brings me back to the halcyon days of a little less than 10 years ago. It’s very something that would have been in steampunk.

They also get this logo on their head when they use this card, just like Pharaoh but significantly less cool. And it’s on all this guy’s monsters too, so everyone gets the power of branding. With this logo that looks like a joke Portlandia would make about indie logos.

Pharaoh kind of shrugs this off because like...his soul lives in a freakin necklace and he has magic so...whatever.

And then we get the full cheese spread--look at this cheese!

WOWOWOWOW

Look at Dieselpunk Amelie! Here I thought that now Marik wasn’t around we’d have no more stupid crop tops, but it’s back and man I am so happy it’s back. Damn. Everyone has a popped collar covered in as many square inches of belts as they could fit on em. Belts just hanging off willy nilly in every direction so you can barely walk through a hallway without your belt slapping on the edges. Them walking through a revolving door must be the most dangerous game outside of Duel Monsters.

woah.

Oh man, and I didn’t even noticed that they made the middle guy ripped as hell for no reason. His arm looks like a Payday candybar.

But MAN.

Someone give that guy on the right a sword the size of himself because...holy hell his jacket is so massive that it has an accordion shoulder pad for some reason???

Oh shoot I didn’t even realize guy on the right has about 6 rivets on his fingerless gloves, too. Wow.

Oh man it’s a lot to take in.

Do you see em? Do you see how many weird ass accessories are all over these characters these underpaid animators will have to draw SO MANY TIMES?

Oh man, the poor cosplayers! It must be so hard to go from Bandit Keith--a fairly easy cosplay--to the Accordian shouldered 11-belted jacket on Mr I-Dare-You-To-Cosplay-These-Sideburns.

And then this guy screws himself:

I’m not gonna add him to the Yugioh Death Counter yet, but I have a feeling, especially after seeing how few belts this guy has on...I just have a really strong feeling he’s absolutely going to die.

Goodbye, normal guy, you were too normie for this bizarre world.

Anyway, feel free to leave in the comments, if Yugioh cards became real, which one would you immediately eat and how? (and we can count plant cards as actual plants for the vegans, even if they can talk or whatev--them’s plants, they’re kosher.)

(realizes I have no idea if there’s even plant type cards in Yugioh or if that’s just a pokemon thing)

Anyway that’s all for now but if you just got here, this is a link to read all my Yugioh recaps in Chrono Order, fair warning...this is S4.

#yugioh #ygo #yugioh recap #photo recap #S4 #S4 ep1 #gurimo #yugi muto #joey wheeler #grandpa muto #tea gardner #tristan taylor #I don't know the name of the three new dudes yet #but wow they have more belts on than my local old navy #cameo by Seto Kaiba #who is somehow not seeing a lawsuit yet

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themadlostgirl · 5 years

Text

Not Dead Yet (Part 70)

Pairing: Reader x Peter Pan

Warnings: language

“I don’t see how this will help my situation.” Peter grumbled as we waited on the shore. It was early in the morning. I hated to get him up so early when he should be resting but this needed done sooner rather than later.

The Jolly Roger was waiting in the lagoon. The long boat made its way towards us. I had dropped by last night after talking at length with Peter and told Hook to come to the island. Alone. No weapons. No surprises. We needed to talk. That was it. He was also to bring the lantern Peter had enchanted years ago with him.

“Good morning, Killian.” I greeted him as he stomped through the wet sand towards us.

“May we skip the pleasantries and get to the point of this meeting?” he snapped.

“If I were you I would be nicer to us or did you forget exactly what we can do?” I smirked and he glowered.

“Morning,” he muttered, “What do you want?”

“Always so pleasant.” I sighed. “We’re here with a gift, captain.”

“I’m not interested in any kind of gift you two threw together.”

“I think you might once you see it.” I held up a magic bean. “Interested now?”

“You need an errand?”

“No.” I stepped closer to him. He made to draw his sword but only grabbed air where the hilt should be. “This isn’t a game or a joke or a job. We’re letting you go.”

He eyed the pair of suspiciously. “No. It’s too easy.”

“I understand why you don’t trust us. There isn’t anything to trust. But I swear this isn’t a trick.” I dropped the bean into his hand and curled his fingers around it, “You and your crew are free.”

“Why? Why now? Why’d you want me to bring the lantern?”

“We’re bored of you. No point in keeping old drunk pirates around anymore.” I shrugged, “As for the lantern, that is for your benefit. A final assurance that we mean what we say. You’re not in our employ anymore.”

I grabbed the lantern and handed it to Peter. He waved his hand over it and the constant flame that alerted the captain to where we need him finally extinguished. “There. You gonna leave now?” Peter said.

Hook looked between us, the lantern and the bean before turning around and heading back towards his ship. “Feel better?” I asked Peter.

“Physically or mentally?” he dropped the glamour he had been keeping up. He was still weak but there was some more life behind his eyes.

“We agreed this was for the best. No unnecessary magic.” I looped his arm around me, “Now that that is over with let’s go back to bed.”

After Hook left things got better. We continued to cut out any uses of magic he didn’t need. No teleporting, healing, lighting fires, and the like. We were no longer bringing boys to the island since Peter’s shadow on the island gave him more energy. Most days he would sleep in the highest branches of his Thinking Tree. Felix and I were keeping the boys in line while he was resting. Peter was looking much better and wasn’t puking up blood. Even the island seemed to be healthier. The fruit was riper and the skies were clear.

The only problem was strangely Peter himself. As well as he’s been doing he has been so incredibly annoying. Staying in his tree and resting and having to walk everywhere and do everything manually was driving him crazy. He wanted to run and have fun but if I caught him over-exerting himself I was able to firmly guilt him back into cooperating.

I wasn’t proud of using guilt to keep him complacent but there was no other way. I’d see him at the training grounds trying to fight with one of the boys and we’d get into a fight about it. He’d insist he was feeling better and that I wasn’t in charge of him and to stop bothering him. Then I would apologize and say I was just being overprotective because I’m scared that I’m going to lose him and suddenly he couldn’t wait to go back to his tent and sleep.

Was it cruel? Maybe. Was I actually being too protective? Probably. But I stood by it.

We were sitting in the camp. For over a week now I had gotten Peter to not do any training and simply rest. He was looking great for it but the boy I loved wasn’t around anymore. He was so subdued. It was like he had given up on trying to be mischievous and it wasn’t right.

“Hey Peter,” I pulled him back so his head was resting in my lap, “You wanna do something?”

“Like what? Take another nap?” Even his sass was dulled.

“No,” I kissed his forehead, “I was thinking something else?”

“Were you? Sure I’m not too weak and fragile for something like what I’m sure you’re thinking?” a smirk started to tug at his lips.

“And here I would have thought you’d like something to do.” I sighed heavily, “I guess I was wrong. Suppose we’ll just stay here and I’ll placate all my bundled up energy and clawing need by playing with that mess you call hair.”

“Wait a second--” he tried to speak but I put a hand over his mouth while the other combed through his hair.

“It is a cross I will have to bear but I will do it. For your health and the good of Neverland I will not--ugh! Did you lick my hand?”

“You wouldn’t let me talk.”

“But talking takes so much energy.”

“Wanna know what takes more?”

“I’m sure you’re gonna show me.” I chuckled as I continued to play with his hair, “You should really think about combing this mane once in a while.”

“Like a lion mane?” That devious little grin was back and my heart started to race.

“Oh yes,�� I bit back my own grin as we started shift. “As wild and as messy as a lion.”

He reached to grab me but I was quicker. We were both on our feet. The playful gleam with a hint of lust was back in his eye. There’s the Peter Pan I know.

“You know how this ends, pet. Best not make a big scene of it.”

“Not a chance. You live for it.” I bolted into the jungle.

“Come back here! The king wants to play!” Peter shouted as he tore after me.

“Do not start calling yourself the king of Neverland again.” He blinked in front of me and caught me easily. “Ahh! Peter!”

“You dare defy the king?” he said with a look I knew all too well.

“Peter no, don’t you dare--” he started to tickle my sides. I burst out laughing and pushed away trying to escape but he just held me closer. “Quit-Quit it!” I was able to blurt out.

“Never! You defied the king!” he laughed. I lost balance and we fell to the ground. His hand slithered underneath my shirt. I quieted down as he stopped tickling me and instead started to kiss me.

“Is this also because I defied the king?” I chuckled lightly.

“No,” he touched his nose to mine, “This is for being my queen.”

“You are such a sap.” I rolled us over so I was on top and slid his shirt off him. “A very attractive sap.”

“You know it.” he pulled me closer so I was pressed flat against him.

“Actually…” I sat back up and he whined, “I’m not sure you deserve this. You did use magic when you shouldn’t have after all.”

“Pet, you’re killing me,” he groaned.

“You’re killing you, chief,” I smirked.

“Yeah yeah, come here!” he yanked me back down to his level. I let a small squeal escape before his mouth was on mind and suddenly I didn’t care about the use of magic or the timer on his life. I wanted this too. So of course it had to end almost immediately.

“Is there anytime you two aren’t going at eachother like a pair of jackrabbits?” we heard a voice remark. We looked over and saw Tink standing in the pathway with various plants loaded in her arms.

“Hello Tink,” I sat up straight, “What brings you to our neck of the jungle?”

“And can it please wait another fifteen minutes?” Peter growled at her.

“Since when do you need more than ten?” I smirked and he pinched my side.

“Horny teenagers, please, focus for a moment and listen to what I have to say.” she rolled her eyes, “It’s important and regards a certain someone not dying within the next couple months.”

“What is it?” I climbed off Peter’s lap, “What did you find?”

“A potion. Very old magic, it might just be myth but it could keep dying boy here alive for a good many years if made correctly.”

“How’d you find this?” Peter had pulled his tunic back on and was now standing with me. “I know all sorts of magic but none like a potion that could stall my curse.”

“Like I said it is very ancient sorcery. So much so that it might not even be real. I thought it may be worth looking into though. What else do you have to lose either way?”

“Fine, what do we need for this potion?”

“There are quite a few ingredients I’ve already found here on the island but others are going to be harder to acquire. It will take time and a lot of hard and precise work but I think we may have a way to stall your curse.”

“This is great!” I hugged Peter, “We’re going to save you!”

“Hopefully so,” he looked back at Tink, “What are the ingredients?”

“I wrote out a list. You should be able to find them all in the Enchanted Forest.”

“There’s no time to lose then.” I grabbed the list in her hands. Scanning over it I knew that this was going to be a laborious task. If it could save Peter though…

“I’ll get some boys on it right away.”

“Actually,” Tink took the list back, “I think Y/N should go.”

“Just me?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Why? Wouldn’t it go faster with an entire team?”

“Not necessarily. Very few know that Pan is practically dead already and sending out a team would raise a lot of questions I’m guessing you’d like to avoid. Besides, you’ve traveled far across the realms and the Enchanted Forest. From what I hear you’re prone to leaving the island for long stints of time so your absence wouldn’t be seen as irregular. If you want to keep the peace here as well as find the ingredients quickly, sending her solo is your best bet.”

“She’s right,” I nodded, “The boys are already on edge because of the disasters that have been happening as of late. Even if this potion does work, you’re in no state to handle a mass panic if they think we’re all going to die soon.”

“You sure you’ll be okay on your own?”

“Do you actually believe that I won’t be? Peter, come on.”

“It isn’t just that,” he turned us away from Tink and whispered, “I said that I want you here. Now Tinkerbell comes in with an all too convenient plan that takes you away from the island for an indeterminate amount of time?”

“Peter--”

“Promise me that this isn’t some escape attempt you concocted to get away. You promised me you’d stay here no matter what happened. Please, Y/N, don’t disappear on me.”

I kissed him.

“This is not some plan I came up with to get away. I promised I’d be here and I will be. A couple of days scavenging the Enchanted Forest for some ingredients doesn’t equal forever. I’ll be back before you know it. I promise.”

“On your life?”

“On yours.”

He nodded. I turned back to Tinkerbell. “So, what am I looking for?”

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#slowburn #ouat #ouat peter pan #peter pan ouat #neverland #peter pan imagine #peter pan x reader

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