#4+1 things

[because-i-am-barely-even-human]

4 times Buck and Eddie pretend to have sex to get rid of someone + 1 time there's no need to pretend

prompt

1) Shannon Diaz

You see, the first time it happened it was totally an accident and misunderstanding (not that Eddie complains how the things turned out in the end).

Shannon just showed up after leaving Christopher (and him) a few years ago. And it seems like she not only wanted to see Chris but expected to get back together with Eddie like there’s no bad blood between them. And that was a firm Nope. No, he does not want to have anything to do with her. He’s not sure he wants to let her into Christopher’s life after her abrupt leave. For Christ’s sake, she didn’t even call to check how their son is doing! What did she expect? A warm welcome? He ranted about this to Buck.

So, the second time she shows up, unannounced, might he add, Buck is conveniently at Diazes’ house. Both of them just came back from 24 hour shift. Chris is at Abuela’s still. So when Shannon comes over she did not expect the half naked guy to open the door to her (technically) husband’s house. He looks like he just came out of the shower and before she can say (yell) anything (like “who the hell are you and what are you doing here undressed like that?”) Eddie comes from down the hall in only a fucking towel.

Eddie: Cariño, who’s there?

Shannon is speechless. She knows enough Spanish to understand this. In all the time that they were together Eddie never called her sweetheart. And by the looks of it she does not need any context here, it’s pretty much obvious what they were doing.

She leaves abruptly without a word, forgetting to ask after Christopher. It is obvious that their marriage is officially over.

Both men quickly guessed to what conclusion she might have came. It was hilarious. And incredibly convenient for Eddie. Buck didn’t mind the assumptions at all.

2) Taylor Kelly

The second time it happened because Buck panicked. Taylor Kelly was at the station. Eddie is not a fan, Buck is not as well. She shamelessly flirts with Buck ignoring the fact that he looks extremely uncomfortable because of her attention. The reporter just does not get a hint. Buck hides in a locker room, that’s where Eddie finds him. He’s freaking out and practically begs Eddie to help him to get rid of Taylor. And Diaz is totally on board with that (not to mention that he might have sought Evan with familiar suggestion).

Eddie just finished working out which helps to reinforce their act. His hair is sticking out like someone ran their fingers through it. And he’s flushed and sweaty, perfect. Buck, though, doesn’t look convincing. So Eddie has some ideas™. They’ve been friends for a few months and they got close quickly. Some might say they ended up real close. They liked to kid around and were shameless and sometimes had no boundaries concerning each other. It felt natural. So Eddie gave Buck some hickeys, both of them giggling the whole time while doing it. Buck gave Eddie some too, you know, to make it look real.

After the dynamic duo’s impromptu departure and then their sudden appearance, firefighters of 118 took a note of how Taylor Kelly was pissed and acted even more bratty than before. She stopped chasing (because that’s what it looked like) Buck and left station with her crew soon after. The team sighed in relief.

No one said anything about hickeys because everyone is used to Buddie’s weird behavior.

3) Abby Clark

The third time, Buck was a bit oblivious when it happened. After Abby came back to LA, and with a fiancé no less, Buck was moody. Not because he missed her (that ship sailed a long time ago), but because he was annoyed and pissed at her behavior. He talked at length with Eddie about his abandonment issues and how Abby contributed to it.

She wanted to talk. Buck did not. Abby kept calling Buck a few times a day but he never picked up.

Then one evening, after a long shift, Eddie and Buck were hanging out at his loft. Evan was a bit distracted at the moment. You see, his bad leg was hurting so Eddie was giving him a massage, it was a normal occurrence. So when Abby fucking Clark called again Buck wasn’t mindful of what kind of sounds he made or what he was saying while answering.

Eddie: Is this ok?

Buck: Of course it is! Fuck, don’t stop, Eddie.

Buck asked what did she want and please, stop calling me, I’m busy.

Abby was mortified. She finally left Evan Buckley alone. Her apologies were too late and not needed anymore.

Though Buck was oblivious at first, Eddie certainly knew what he was doing and how did it sound to Abby. He was a little bit petty, so what? Plus when Buck realized what did they sound like they lost it again. It was like that time with Shannon. When they told the team about it they lost it too, for different reasons though.

4) Ana Flores

The fourth and last time it happened, it turned real.

Eddie was seeing Ana for a few short months, frankly speaking, he didn’t know why he asked her out. She was pretty (not completely his type tho) and nice at first, then she started to act snobbish. They had nothing in common, and she creeped him out after their math date™ or whatever the fuck she tried to turn it into. Ana was pushy about being intimate when he hadn’t felt any sort of attraction to her. He thought maybe it was because she was practically a stranger and they needed time, but she was adamant on getting into his pants and he noped right out of this, because fuck if he was going to let someone to pressure him into doing anything he didn’t want to.

He told Buck about this shit and he suggested to break this thing off and fast, this is not healthy.

So Eddie broke up with Ana the morning the shooting happened after she snooped around on GoFundMe site. Evan was aware of the break up.

So imagine Eddie’s frustration when he was getting discharged and Ms Flores thought it was a brilliant idea to show up and try to convince him to start over.

Eddie got the message from Hen that Ana was coming to his room at the hospital (let’s say Hen was there restocking the ambulance when she noticed her). Buck was trying to help Eddie dress into sweatpants when the door opened and Eddie had a second to come up with their usual plan of making people to fuck off. He put his hand on Buck’s neck and quietly asked him to play along.

Ana determined to make Edmundo see reason and get back together was quite shocked at what she saw. Evan (his best friend, she should have known) was on his knees before Edmundo who definitely wasn’t wearing pants and moving his head quite enthusiastically, while Edmundo looked down with the dark eyes and the hottest expression on his face (she wished he looked at her like that). She should have known this was the reason he was so harshly refusing to get intimate with her. Edmundo was fooling around with Evan this whole time! How many times did they do this behind her back? How dare they?

And yeah, Ms Flores never entertained the thought that she might have been the problem all along and she had some creepy vibes (many of her exes can attest to that).

Embarrassed and angry that another one of her relationships ended in disaster, she stormed away.

The thing is that during their little play Buck actually slipped Eddie’s boxers off, not that Eddie minded. They promptly forgot about Ana or anything else.

----

If someone’s interested in writing this, please tag me when you’re done.

[forthegodsandtheghosts]

The Four Times Virgil Was Sleepy Around The Other Sides and The One Time He Fell Asleep

Link to AO3 version

Post the inspired the concept

Post that helped me with scene 4

Virgil doesn't have a good sleep schedule. That fact absolutely affects him in his everyday life. Just a bunch of Virgil being sleepy and defensive about it.

This is honestly just very self-indulgent because I just absolutely love Virgil Sanders and can't exist without thinking about the Sides for five seconds

It had been a long… day? Week? Month? Interval of time. I had been a long interval of time for the resident mindscape emo who just couldn’t seem to catch a break.

Letting out a long, drawn-out groan of agony, Virgil flopped down onto the couch, fully planning on just being a general nuisance by hogging it. Though, as soon as he stilled, hands resting on his stomach, he noticed just how good laying down felt. Arching his back off the couch, he heard those satisfying clicks before dropping back down with a sigh.

He could almost sleep here. There wasn’t exactly anything stopping him. The other Sides are off doing their own thing and Thomas probably wouldn’t miss a wanna-be vampire hollering in his ears. Besides, he needed the rest. So, slowly he allows his muscles to relax further as his eyes slide shut.

Then he hears footsteps.

Virgil shoots upright, scooting to lean on the arm of the couch his head was previously next to, trying to look natural. His gaze goes to the doorway just as Patton enters the room.

He startles when he notices Virgil’s presence, legs sprawled out, still taking up the couch. “Anxiety! Hi, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Patton’s shocked expression quickly changes to show his typical cheerful smile, confusion about Virgil being there present none the less.

“I could say the same, but we live in the same mindscape and are bound to see each other most of the time, so I can’t.” Virgil’s sass is prominent no matter how deadpan he sounds and Patton’s smile almost wavers.

“Of course, kiddo! I didn’t mean anything bad by you being here, just got a bit surprised. Well I’ve got something to do, I’ll see you around, Anxiety!” he called as he went back down the hall he just entered from.

--

It was about a week later; Virgil had managed to get one (1) almost full night of sleep – he got maybe two hours – and was once again extremely tired and considering just saying fuck it and going back to bed for the rest of forever. So how exactly did he end up dragged into a movie night with the rest of the Sides? Pure dumb lack of luck.

He was placed on the couch, sandwiched between Patton and Logan – Patton who just wants to give the newest member of their little group the most love he can and Logan who would probably implode if he had to sit on the ground – Roman sitting at Patton’s feet on the bean bag he dragged over. Virgil could already feel himself fading, with the lights off and all the warmth and the shockingly comfortable surface that is Patton’s chest he was being pulled into. Honestly, it’s as if the guy was made to be as huggable as possible.

Virgil soon reached the point of having to force his eyes to stay open barely halfway through the first movie. He couldn’t fall asleep. He’s tough and dangerous and they can’t know he sleeps and becomes defenseless sometimes, it’s far too dangerous. Who knows what could happen to him, what they could do–

His own internal ramblings were cut of as he let out a wide yawn, half burying his face into Patton’s chest. Patton released a small sound that definitely caught the other two’s attention if the yawn didn’t. “Are you tired, kiddo?” Patton quietly asked, hand soothing through Virgil’s hair.

Virgil quickly pushed himself off Patton’s chest. “No. I’m just getting bored of sitting here, watching a bunch of singing animals.” He stood from the couch and made his way quickly to the doorway, ignoring the disappointed expression on Patton’s face and relishing in Roman’s offended one. “See you tomorrow maybe.” Then he disappears up the stairs.

--

It’s a quiet day. Not the odd kind of quiet.

Rather, the kind of quiet that is achieved when everyone is relaxing in the common room doing their own thing. It’s not as if a vacuum sealed chamber, there’s still the sounds of Logan flipping pages in his book, of Roman’s pencil scribbling away in his notebook, and of whatever show Patton decided to watch. A good quiet that everyone could enjoy. Everyone that was fully awake that is.

Virgil sits on the couch, between Logan on the armchair and Roman on the middle cushion, staring blankly at his phone's home screen. He considered finding another app to entertain himself on but as soon as he hit the home button the fatigue of a poor sleep schedule hit like a bus. At this point, he might as well be sleeping with his eyes open due to his complete lack of responsiveness to anything around him.

Logan glances at the seemingly spacing Side. Eyelids slightly drooping, the lack of spare eyeshadow particles to suggest usage of makeup – which was concerning on it’s own as it almost looks like he is wearing makeup, the heavy lean on the armrest. Anxiety is not doing okay is the conclusion he comes to.

As most should know, Logan is not one to sugar coat or delay, so it’s easy for him to decide to get the current predicament dealt with as soon as possible. “Anxiety,” he starts, closing his book and causing everyone’s attention to move to him, including, just barely, Virgil’s, “from what I have observed, you seem tired. Have you been having issues sleeping?” Right to the point.

Everyone’s attention is now on Virgil, even as he still seems to be processing what Logan said, a confused expression on his face and half-asleep glaze to his eyes. “Wha’?” He says after a few more moments, blinking dazedly at Logan.

“Alright, that is everything I need to know.” Logan stands and moves towards the closet they keep spare blankets and pillows, A.K.A the Pillow Fort Closet™. He pulls out a soft blanket and pillow and carries them back into the common room, setting them down on the armchair. He quickly shoos Roman and Patton off the couch while Virgil watches, barely processing anything. “Anxiety, can you lay down for me?”

Virgil barely registers when he complies, lifting his head when he’s told to as Logan slips the pillow under it and drapes the blanket over the rest of him. It’s only after Logan sits back down that Virgil realizes what just happened and is sitting, standing, and sinking out in quick succession.

--

Months later, a few days after Virgil revealed his name and everyone got a dandy style change, things had returned to relative normativity except Virgil was marginally more included in many things the other Sides choose to do than before.

It’s currently night, a particular night in which Roman has been up even into the morning so late he decides there’s no point in sleeping. Roman decides to head downstairs and get a cup of coffee with the promise he’ll actually sleep tomorrow. What he finds isn’t not normal, but definitely not expected.

When he rounds the doorway into the kitchen, he catches sight of a large mass around counter level. He’s immediately flicks on the light, earning a startled hiss from the mass, now revealed to be Virgil sitting in the sink, the Side seemingly just woken up by Roman’s entrance.

“Virgil?” Roman asks. “What are you doing in the sink?”

“Sleeping. What are you doing up?” He rubs harshly at his eyes with a wide yawn.

“I got… busy and came to get some coffee. Why are you sleeping in the sink?”

Virgil only responds with a shrug, slumping further into the sink though his gaze doesn’t leave Roman.

Roman only nods and gets to work on making his coffee. “Well, it’s not my back that’s gonna feel like a dragon hit me with a tail whip later.”

“Whatever.” Virgil, still annoyed and tired from being so abruptly woken, continues to watch Roman with a slightly dazed stare until he finally leaves the room, turning the lights off as he went.

As soon as he's gone up the stairs, Virgil falls right back to sleep.

--

It was yet another, apparently mandatory now, movie night, and Virgil isn’t complaining. He is, once again, being cuddled by Patton and is happy to cuddle back with the easy bribe of hair petting being offered. Logan sits on his other side holding one of his hands as it had soon after his acceptance been revealed that Logan was actually very lenient about – if not openly welcoming – of physical contact. Roman sitting at their feet as per usual in regard to movie nights.

Virgil’s relationship with the other Sides had quickly developed into one of relative familial comfort.

Leading to a very similar predicament to earlier that year.

Sitting for more than an hour in a dark room, surrounded by warm bodies, with plenty of comfortable pillows and blankets surrounding them – a requirement set by Roman and Patton – the perfect movie night and napping environment. So, it’s simple to say that, while Virgil had been getting better sleep as of late, he is pretty sleepy.

There is one difference though. Instead of running out of the room the second his eyes start closing, he relaxes more against Patton’s chest. With a sigh he tries to bury his face further into the body, causing Patton to let out a low, small laugh.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart. You’re safe.” He whispers to Virgil.

Virgil hums in contentedness as Logan slowly rubs the back of his hand and Roman wordlessly lowers the volume of the movie. As he slowly drifts into sleep, he can’t help but think one final conscious thought.

Man, I love my family.

------

@sleepyvirgilprompts

[arata-is-a-dunce]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/5

Fandom: 真夜中のオカルト公務員 | Mayonaka no Occult Koumuin | Midnight Occult Civil Servants (Anime)

Relationship: Kanoichi Satoru/Miyako Arata

Characters: Kanoichi Satoru, Miyako Arata, Shimizu Shota, Kanoichi Akane

Additional Tags: Misunderstandings, Pre-Relationship, Jealousy, Kanoichi Satoru is Bad at Feelings, Developing Relationship, Mild Language, Mild Hurt/Comfort, 4+1 Things, Miyako Arata is Bad at Feelings, Miscommunication, Slow Burn, Pining, Unhealthy Relationships, at first, will get better, Prejudice Against Anothers, Shota and Akane just need a break from mediating, Denial of Feelings, Feelings Realization, Unreliable Narrator, POV Third Person Limited

Yes, this is something I ship. You don't have to like it, but they're both consenting adults and I will go down with this ship. :)

[alit0my]

You know those fanfics, 5 times (something) plus 1. So five times someone on the team taught Booker something. And since it was he who taught. (maybe with OT3) {for example: teaching a language, cooking, fighting with a sword}

hello anon! idek if you still want this fic bc its been so long... but i have finished it! no ot3 this time im afraid, just didnt fit well with where i took this... hope you enjoy!

~

1 - Russia, 1812

When they first found him in Russia, they barely understood one another and had to use Andromache’s passable French to communicate. The Asian woman beside her named Quynh stared at him, as if looking into his soul as he gasped out words of conversation as he recovered from another hypothermic shock. The two men were paired off, keeping a close eye on their surroundings and ignoring the conversation altogether as they did not understand.

”The first thing we will do,” Andy said, handing another wooly coat his way. ”Is teach you a language we can all speak.”

”Like hell you will. I’m to return to my family,” he replied, wrapping the coat around him tighter. Andy shook her head and huffed, glancing at Quynh beside her.

”When you return in fifty years, when your family is dead, we will teach you Russian.”

”Or you could learn better French,” Booker snapped, cursing the entire world under his breath as his limbs shook uncontrollably.

The corners of Andy’s lips curled upwards slightly.

(Back then, Booker paid no mind to this. But now, he knew it was the introduction to Andy’s competitive side.)

It was thirty-eight years later when Booker returned. Andy had gotten better at French, and Booker grumbled at the fact that he now had to learn Russian, as per their unofficial agreement.

He wasn’t half bad at Russian, but he wasn’t particularly good at it either.

~ 2 - Italy, 1850

As he returned to the group after the passing of his son, the last of his true family, Quynh pulled Booker aside and placed a bow in his hands. She watched as he pulled the bow string back slightly, testing the recoil of the weapon as if he was examining its limits. Booker was just trying to not break the thing.

Quynh was scary, and Booker did not want to mess with her.

”Now aim at the target,” she had told him, nodding her head to the tree as she placed an arrow in his other hand. ,em>”Aim, and fire.”

Booker did as he was told.

Booker missed the tree by a mile.

Quynh tutted and put her hands on her hips, before taking another arrow out of the quiver on her back.

”Try again,” she said, almost encouragingly. ”We have time. I’ll make sure you can handle a bow almost as good as me.”

Booker ended up being half as good as Quynh, which they both saw as an achievement.

(He could never be as good at archery as Quynh, but it was the thought that counted at the time. Really, Booker should have been grateful for the distraction.)

~ 3 - Japan, 1894

Nicky was sitting at the kitchen table cleaning his sniper rifle when Booker walked in, still half asleep. Pausing in his tracks, Booker rubbed at his eyes and looked at the weapon on the table, never having really seen it out of its case which Nicky kept stored under his bed in their various safehouses.

Nicky looked up at locked eyes with the youngest, beckoning him over to sit beside him.

”I will show you how to clean this, and then if you want, how to use it,” Nicky said, picking up the scope and rubbing the rag gently across the glass. Booker nodded and watched silently before Nicky handed him a part and a new rag. ”Gently, don’t rush or you may scratch the metal.”

Booker wasn’t sure how a piece of cloth would scratch metal, but he dared not say. Nicky was allowing him into his space, to help clean his most prized possession.

When the weapon was cleaned, Nicky showed Booker how to reassemble the rifle before picking it up and beckoning him outside.

”We will set up here, and I will teach you how to shoot,” Nicky explained as he set up the tripod that would hold the barrel steady. ”Come, look down the scope.”

Booker could not see a thing, and Nicky gently nudged his head until he gasped, suddenly seeing the tin can in the distance.

”Now line it up, and shoot.”

Booker missed, but Nicky’s eyes gleamed.

(It was something that Booker looked back on fondly as he sat in his French apartment surrounded by booze.)

~ 4 - Egypt, 1948

”Where is your sword, Booker?” Joe exclaimed whenever they were gearing up for a mission. Booker looked at him then the others, who all had a sword strapped to their bodies whereas he only had an assault rifle and a handgun.

”I.. Don’t have one?”

Joe scoffed. ”I will change that. When we are done I will teach you how to wield a sword.”

Booker objected, which fell upon dead ears as the team went back to gathering their gear. Furrowing his brow, Booker looked down at his assault rifle and started to feel anxious. Was knowing how to wield a sword some kind of necessity to be in this strange team of immortals?

(He found out later, the next day in fact, when Joe had woken him up at the break of dawn with his scimitar in one hand and a longsword in the other. Joe was always the early riser, and the most energetic. Booker missed him the most.)

”Here, I will train you the art of the sword,” Joe smiled, but Booker could see the excitement shining through his eyes. ”Try to strike me.”

Booker looked at him incredulously, but swung the blade at him.

He ended up on his ass with Joe standing above him, scimitar pressed lightly on his throat.

”You take too big of a swing, leaves too much gap for the enemy to strike,” Joe explained, removing the weapon from Booker’s neck and holding a hand out to help him up. ”This will be fun. Bonding, if you will.”

”Joe, no one even uses swords anymore?”

Booker ended up on his ass again, in record time.

~ +1 - France, 2020

Booker hadn’t heard from them in six months, as per their non-contact rule, but he hadn’t expected a package to arrive at his front door with his alias on it. Curious, he placed his glass of water (which still tasted of whiskey from the night before) on the counter and picked up the box, setting it down on his kitchen table.

He stared at it for a while, not sure what to make of it as he decided to rip open the box before he could change his mind. Inside were a bunch of letters each with his name written in different handwriting, a few pictures and five small magnets that represented each member of the team.

Booker picked up the first letter from Andy, skimming through the words quickly before the tears fell on the paper and ruined it for good.

’...miss you Book…...Nile’s idea to……..considered your biological family……….struggling to cope……..should have listened to you more, and for that I’m so sorry. You taught me that there is more to life than what we do, and I should have seen that back in the 1800’s and not belittled you for it. I love you Book, see you soon.’

Quynh’s letter was short as sweet, but mainly contained phrases in many languages calling him a dumbass and pictures of him practising with the bow.

’Next time, maybe try to be a perfect shot before you decide to cross us you moron…….I hope you have improved with your bow I gave you, oh wait you left it in England and some historian took it to the museum because it is so ancient…..You better get me my bow back you absolute- Nile has been reading over my shoulder this whole time and now I’m going to write some good things about you…

‘How to start? What is good about you, Booker? You reminded me that not everyone is good at something first go, and that they deserve the effort and time you put into them. You ended up being a good shot and it only took you ten years! The others took twice as long. We will have a competition when you return, so keep those archery skills sharp, my friend.’

The next letter was from both Joe and Nicky, and Booker smiled softly to himself. Never to be separated, those two, and he was a fool to think otherwise.

’Nicky does not want to write you a letter, so I will write for both of us. This was Nile’s idea, sending you this little ‘care-package’ as she called it, but do not think this is an olive branch. We are grateful for you, Book, and since you turned up our lives have been somewhat exciting. Our separate and joint experiences in teaching you things has brought us both enjoyable memories, and though somewhat tainted by your actions, upon your return we would like to teach you more new things as we teach Nile. Maybe you might actually improve on your skills for once.

We both love you dearly.’

Booker sniffled and separated the picture enclosed within the letter. It was a capture of when Nicky was teaching him how to cook proper spaghetti bolognese, after he found out that Booker was using jar sauce and packet pasta. Booker remembered getting scolded all night in Italian, and when he told Nicky he understood, the response he got was ”Good. I should hope so."

Nile didn’t write a letter, but she didn’t need to write one. They only knew each other for two weeks before shit hit the fan and Booker was sent away. Instead, in Nile’s envelope was a tiny slip of paper with a phone number on it, along with some fliers for activities to do around Paris.

’Call me anytime, I’m here to chat. Also, don’t mope about for a hundred years, do something! Learn a new skill! (Okay, that might be hard but just do it, maybe bake some sourdough? You love that stuff!)’

Booker took the magnets out of the box, walked over to his fridge and placed them in a circle with a small click!, his heart panging every time.

Bow and arrow, two swords, a labrys, and a handgun with a US flag.

~

AO3 Link

[angela-feelstoomuch]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Julie and The Phantoms (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Julie Molina/Luke Patterson Characters: Julie Molina, Luke Patterson (Julie and The Phantoms), Alex Mercer (Julie and The Phantoms), Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Flynn (Julie and The Phantoms) Additional Tags: 4+1, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Everyone Is Alive, Soft Luke Patterson (Julie and The Phantoms), Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Smiles and Sunshines, I Don't Even Know Summary:

Luke collected guitars, he loved them, like if they were his children. Nobody could touch them, Julie knew that… But she craved to touch.

Or

The 4+1 that nobody asked for.

[orange-waterfalls]

I Couldn't Come Up With A Title So Have A Late Christmas Fic

Alternatively: 4 times Illinois could've kissed you under the mistletoe and 1 time he did

Illinois x gender neutral!reader

@speedyprofessionalpandaweasel ty for the request

A/N: here it is guysssss I ain't dead yet fuckers ahaha. I meant to finish this at Christmas and then I dislocated my shoulder. so. Illinois x reader, Christmas Fic. 4+1 things(I'm too lazy for 5+1) uhhhhh i didn't feel like going through and finding a screenshot so yeah no picture this time. Fluff/comedy. Yeah. Enjoy.

Word Count: 2.8k

--

#1

Illinois sighed in annoyance. He was spread out on your couch, taking up as much room as possible, yet still acting like he was upset. You had refused to go on an adventure with him because you wanted to spend Christmas with your friends and family. Sure, Illinois was your friend, but you didn’t exactly want to spend your holidays running for your life.

You were decorating your living room and Illinois was being whiny and refusing to help. He just kept complaining to you.

“Come on, Y/N!” He groaned. “I’m so bored!”

“Then go on an adventure.”

“Well, there’s no point if you’re not going!” You rolled your eyes.

“Then stop whining!”

“I refuse.”

“Fine! Can you at least get me the wreath from the box upstairs?” Illinois whined but got up.

He walked up a flight of stairs to the attic of your house. Normally, you wouldn’t be able to afford this, but the price went way down after someone was “accidentally murdered” there. At least that’s what Wilford said.

Illinois dug through the box of decorations. He found lots of ribbons and lights, but no wreath like you’d asked. He frowned and dug through again. Still nothing.

“Hey, Y/N?” He called, “I can’t find any wreath…”

“What? I just bought it yesterday!” You groaned. Just then, Illinois saw red out of the corner of his eye.

“Hang on…” He heard you stand up and begin to walk over. He pushed the box to find a new wreath with a red bow. “A-ha!” He stood and walked back down the stairs. “Y/N, I found the--” He cut himself off as he saw something hanging above the doorway.

Mistletoe.

He panicked for a moment, rushing to tear it off of the doorway and hide it behind his back. You showed up at the doorway not a second later. You stared at his strange expression with a sort of curiosity.

“You good?” You asked slowly.

“In more ways than one.” He winked. You scoffed and snatched the wreath from his hand, walking away.

“Haha.” You said dryly.

“Oh, come on! You always blush at my flirts!” He complained.

“Not anymore, I’m immune!” You called back. He smiled and chuckled softly. He looked back at the mistletoe in his hand and then at the doorway.

It hadn’t been there before… had it?

No big deal. He got it down, that’s all that mattered.

Now to make sure he got all the other ones that were destined to show up…

#2

You started decorating the outside of your house the next day. Since it was so close to Christmas, you only went with a couple of colorful lights and a blow-up snowman. You were on a ladder putting up lights while Illinois put air in the snowman and watched the ladder to make sure you weren’t gonna fall.

“How long’s this gonna take?” He asked loudly. The air pump was very loud and he wanted to make sure you could hear him.

“Not long,” you said, knowing fully that this was going to take a long time for Illinois’ standards.

“You sure?” He asked, suspicious.

“Yep,” You lied, “Just these lights. Pretty simple.” Illinois nodded and focused on the snowman in front of him. He sat and watched it inflate, resting his chin on his palm.

His thoughts drifted to the day before. Where did that mistletoe come from? You had told him that you didn’t really like mistletoe, forcing people to kiss when they didn’t want to seemed kind of scummy. He agreed, but what if they did want to? What if the mistletoe let them discover their feelings for one another in a hesitant yet tender kiss?

God, he was watching too many of those Hallmark Christmas movies…

Illinois let out a slightly sad sigh, and you paused your decorating. You turned to him, an eyebrow raised.

“What’s wrong, Illy?” You asked gently. He shook his head.

“Nothing, I’m alright…” He said. You frowned and started climbing down the latter. Illinois turned to you and glanced up for a moment. His eyes widened as he scrambled to his feet.

Again? Where did it come from?!

“Stop!” He yelled and held a hand out. You blinked and froze. “Don’t come any closer!”

“Illy, what…” you began to look above you

You were hit right in the face with something cold and wet. You shouted in surprise and slight pain. You shook your head and wiped your face. Did he really just throw a snowball at you? You narrowed your eyes at him. He smiled awkwardly back.

“Uh… snowball fight?” He said in a small voice. You looked so angry. He thought you’d explode.

Suddenly, you started to laugh. It started with a small snicker and grew into a roar of laughter. Illinois stared at your happy face and felt himself begin to chuckle as well. You both just stood there for a moment, laughing, before you bent down to scoop a handful of snow. You packed it into a tight ball and smiled widely at the adventurer. He quickly grabbed his own handful and dove behind a nearby bush. You had thrown your snowball and barely hit his thigh.

You two laughed and threw snowballs for ten minutes. You both stood panting after a while, faces red and covered with snow. You wiped your face with your sleeve and sighed.

“I uh… I think we should head on inside,” You suggested. Illinois nodded and followed you to the door. He paused at the doorway and looked back up at the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. He squinted before grabbing a bunch of snow, packing it into a ball and hurling it at the small plant. He hit it dead on and it fell to the ground.

“Illinois?”

“Coming!”

#3

Illinois smiled as he looked over at you while putting ornaments on the tree. You were intently watching an ornament swing back and forth, hoping it didn't fall. He chuckled quietly and picked another one from the box.

"I have never seen someone so serious about Christmas," he commented. You hummed, but didn't take your eyes off of the tree as you picked up an ornament. He let out a breathy chuckle and stepped away from the tree.

“How long have we been doing this?” He yawned. You shrugged in response. “Okay, what time is it?” You glanced up at the clock.

“1:00 a.m.”

“1:00 a.m.?!” He shouted. You turned to him.

“That’s what I said, 1:00 a.m.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!” He groaned and grabbed up his satchel, along with his coat.

“What’s the problem?” He froze with his hand on your doorknob and slowly turned to you. You sat there, blinking in confusion.

“The problem is it’s super fucking late and I’m going home!”

“Wait! Wait, wait, wait!” You called out. You scrambled to your feet and grabbed his hand. He snapped his head towards you and you pulled away. His hand twitched, missing the feeling of your hand in his already.

“It’s… it’s really late… you can stay here if you’d like?” You suggested. He raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t… have any clothes…”

“Wilford left some of his pajamas, you can wear some of those!” Illinois squinted, wondering why you had Wilford’s pajamas.

“Where would i sleep?”

“You could sleep in my bed!” He widened his eyes. “J-Just as friends, though!”

“I don’t know…” He said hesitantly. You took his hand. He flushed a bit.

“Come on, Illy. I don’t want you getting hurt…” You said. He sighed and looked down at your hand clutching his. You were worried, he supposed that was a valid reason…

“Alright, alright,” He sighed. You grinned and went to your bedroom, Illinois following.

You let him change into pajamas before reentering your room. You both climbed into the bed and tucked yourselves under the blanket.

“Night, Illy…” You whispered. He nodded. You turned your lamp off and turned on your side. Illinois sighed and stared up at your ceiling with his arms folded on his stomach.

He was about to sleep in a bed. Your bed. In which you were sleeping as well. He thought he was dreaming. He couldn’t let this go to waste. Maybe he could…

“What if we… cuddled…” He said after five minutes. You turned towards him and, even in the dark, he could see the confused look on your face. “Kidding… unless?” You snorted and laid back down. He let out a small sigh and went back to staring up.

“It was worth a shot…” He mumbled and closed his eyes. He suddenly felt something wrap around his torso, so he opened his eyes and looked at you. You had your arms around him, and were snuggling into his side. You looked… content. And very, very cute.

Illinois wasn’t sure if he could take it anymore.

He smiled a bit and settled in, closing his eyes.

And then he snapped them back open. He saw a hint of green on the bedpost. He slowly took a knife from his satchel and cut it down.

“Illy, whas wrong?” You mumbled. He pet your head.

“Nothing, it’s fine…” You sighed and snuggled further into him. He smiled and put the knife back in his satchel. He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of your body against his.

He really liked the feeling.

Maybe you could do this more often...

#4

Illinois yawned and leaned back on the couch as you sat on the floor, wrapping presents. You had wanted to get each of the egos something that year, so you had a lot of presents. You just got back from the store, where Wilford tagged along to help.

Illinois had gone with you two and acted a bit weird the whole time. He crossed his arms and huffed when you started gushing over a teddy bear in a suit you’d buy for Dark. That was only the time you noticed him.

You dropped Wilford back at the mansion on the way back to your house, and the man had kissed you on the cheek. You flushed a bit and chuckled in response. You were aware that Wil was very affectionate and it didn’t mean anything. Illinois, however, was extremely pissy about this. He folded his arms and stared out the window. You laughed at the action.

“What’s up with you?” You had asked. He didn’t answer, so you left it alone.

When you got home, you took out many different patterns of wrapping paper and threw them on the floor, wanting to get the wrapping done as soon as possible. Illinois refused to help, so he just laid on the couch watching Christmas movies.

“Illinois, help me with the presents,” you commanded after struggling for five minutes

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m invested in this movie.” You turn to the TV to see what he was so invested in.

“The credits are rolling.” You point out.

“I don’t see your point.”

“Can you at least get Wilford’s present from my room?” You asked. Illinois furrowed his eyebrows. Why were you keeping his gift in your room?

He scoffed and walked into your room, picking up a cardboard box from the nightstand. He scowled at the box, wondering what you got Wilford that was so damn big. And probably expensive.

His mind drifted to what you got him… it probably wasn’t nearly as good as what you got any of the other egos. This was the only package you said you got delivered and everything else you bought with him and Wilford. Maybe you got him something unimportant, something you wanted to get rid of. Or maybe you didn’t get him anything at all…

Or maybe you were the one putting up all the mistletoe and his gift would be a kiss from you…

Absolutely not. You would never.

The adventurer brought the box into the living room, dropping it in front of you and making you yelp. You stood up and crossed your arms while standing directly in front of Illinois.

“What is your problem?” You asked exasperated. He looked up to avoid eye contact but noticed mistletoe stuck to the ceiling. He opted to look to the side and hope you didn’t notice it too.

“Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Illy, you’re obviously not.” He frowned at the nickname, knowing you were trying to butter him up. He glanced at you, seeing your worried face, and began to feel bad. Why was he jealous? He had no right to be. You weren’t dating him…

He sighed and smiled at you softly.

“I’m okay,” He lied. You tilted your head at him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now," you stepped back and pointed at the pile of items on the floor, "help me with these." He smiled warmly.

"Will do."

#5

Christmas Day, you went to Markiplier Mansion for a party. A lot of the egos showed up, which made you really happy. The ones who didn’t, you’d just tell someone to give them their present at a later time.

You and the egos sat in Wilford’s living room. None of them had really brought any presents, except for Eric, Bing, and Wilford. Once all the presents were passed out, they were instructed to open them by Dark. All of the egos were so happy with their presents, and you felt so proud of your choices. Wilford helped too, but that doesn’t matter.

After opening presents, everyone scattered across the mansion to mingle, eat, drink, or just watch everyone else. You slid up to Illinois, who was holding a glass of eggnog, with your own mug of hot chocolate.

“Did Wilford put something in this eggnog too?” You asked.

“No, “ Illinois laughed, “Bim made this.”

“I’m not sure that’s better…”

“Yeah, me neither…” He said, drinking some more. You chuckled at him and turned to the crowd.

“You think they could get along like this normally?” You voiced a thought.

“Ha, never.” You turned to him, a curious look.

“Why not?”

“Eh… too proud. Too selfish. Too annoying…” He named traits present in almost all of the egos.

“Yeah… you’re probably right…” You sighed, looking down at your drink. Illinois, noticing your falling mood, decided to try and bring something positive to the conversation.

“I mean… if you got Eric and King and Bing, Yancy, even Mark, then… maybe.”

“Yeah… maybe…” You smiled a bit. You both stood, watching them all interact. It was nice to see nobody fighting, yelling, killing… Just friends enjoying each other’s company.

“Oh!” You gasped, making Illinois jump, “I almost forgot!” You turned to him with a grin and took his hand.

“Wha-” He began to protest.

“Come with me,” You demanded. He nodded and you dragged him through the mansion, upstairs and into a room.

The room was dark, the light being very dim, and he saw a bed with a box on it. His heart started to race.

Oh God, oh God. Is this it? Is it really happening? His thoughts raced through his head as you brought the box over to him.

“Now…” You stopped in front of him, “Close your eyes.”

“Uh, Y/N, I-I don’t know if…” He stuttered. You rolled your eyes.

“Trust me, Illy…” He sighed and nodded, closing his eyes. He heard the sound of a box opening, and his hat being taken off. It was replaced by some sort of headband. He was very confused.

“Alright, open ‘em.” Illinois opened his eyes. They widened at the mistletoe in front of his eyes. He looked up even further and saw that it was coming from the headband on his head. His face flushed and he looked back at you. He opened his mouth to say something, and was cut off my you pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. It only lasted a couple seconds before you tried to pull away. Illinois grabbed your waist and pulled you forward, making you squeak. You laid your hands on his shoulders, and he tilted his head. He kissed you deeply, wanting to savor the moment and never wanting you to pull away. Yet you did, when you heard giggling and gagging from behind you. Illinois turned around, seeing most of the egos peeking through the door.

“I told you the headband was the perfect gift!” Wilford said proudly from somewhere in the crowd. You kept your hands on Illinois’ shoulders and pushed him back, towards the door.

“Yeah, you were right,” you said impatiently. Illinois’ back hit the door, forcing it to close as he was pushed against it. “Now…” you locked the door and looked up at Illinois, his face red from your confident demeanor.

“Where were we?”

[perhapsthatsenough]

4 Times Tony Saw Thor Get Pranked by Loki and 1 Time Loki Pranked Him

Summary: 4 times Tony sees the aftermath of Loki pranking Thor, and 1 time Loki pranks him

Word Count: 980

Rating: T

A/N: Yeah it's me, writing a whole new almost 1,000 word fic instead of writing the next chapter of one of my WIPs. Enjoy this crack I wrote while I had a headache.

Read it below the cut or on AO3

1

Tony was sipping on his coffee when Thor walked into the kitchen, he thought nothing of it until he saw that Thor had a piece of duct tape on his mouth.

“Hey Thor,” he called, Thor turned around, “what’s that on your face?”

Thor hummed and pointed to his mouth, right. Thor couldn’t speak.

“Oh yeah, I’ll get you something to write with. J? Where is something to write with?” 

His A.I. pointed him in the direction of a drawer which held a notebook and some pens, (Where did he get paper from in the first place?) and handed them to Thor. Thor opened the notebook to an empty page and began to write. He turned the notebook back to Tony and it read, “My brother told me that there is a Midgardian creature which steals your teeth as you sleep, and I wish to keep my teeth.”

So Loki was pranking Thor. Well, he’d hate to ruin a good prank.

“You’re never heard of the Bone Snatcher?” Thor shook his head. “He steals your bones while you sleep, usually he takes your teeth because they're easy to steal, but one time I heard this kid got his entire arm stolen.” 

Thor’s eyes widened, and he wrote furiously in the notebook. Turning it to Tony he read, “I knew not Midgard had such an awful creature.”

Tony shrugged and took another sip of his coffee, “well you haven’t been on Earth very long.”

Thor left, a look of grim determination on his face. 

Weird. Tony thought, as he took another sip from his coffee.

2

The next time Tony saw Thor his face was covered in whip cream. 

“Ah, Thor, you okay?” He asked.

Thor sighed, “my brother always was fond of tricking me, but now he has learned the art of the Midgardian ‘pranks’ and he wishes to use me to test his ‘pranks’.” 

Tony snorted, “well, I hope he’s only pranking you.”

“I merely hope his ‘pranks’ do not turn malicious.” 

Tony shook his head, “Earth pranks aren’t based on being mean, they’re just annoying.”

“I hope.” Thor said solemnly, and left.

Tony grimaced, he hopes too. 

3

Thor stomped into the living room looking like he was going to murder someone, and Tony sure hoped it wasn’t him.

“Who did this!” He demanded, pointing towards his hair, which was now a hot pink.

Clint bit his hand to stop from laughing, “I don’t know Thor, how about you ask the only person who’s brave enough to enter your rooms.”

Thor narrowed his eyes, “where is Loki?”

“I have no idea.” Said a voice to his left, he was sure no one was sitting next to him.

“Loki,” Thor growled, “change my hair back.”

Loki grinned, “I used the Midgardian way to color your hair. I believe the box said it will last four to six weeks.”

Thor lunged at Loki, who was an illusion, and fell to the floor.

Another Loki appeared behind Thor. “Honestly, I think you look much better.”

Thor’s hand went to touch Loki’s leg, only for the illusion to disappear. He grunted and stood, leaving the living room and making his way to- Tony assumed- his bathroom.

4

“MY POP-TARTS!” Thor yelled, slamming the fridge door, “WHERE ARE THEY!”

Steve, the good natured guy that he is, tried to calm Thor down, only to get pushed out of the way. Like Steve, Thor pushed over every chair, couch, and table looking for his Pop-Tarts, only to come back to the kitchen looking defeated.

“I cannot find them.” Thor sighed, as he walked over to the fridge. “I have checked everywhere-” Thor froze.

“What?” Tony asked, craning his head to look at what Thor was looking at.

Thor grabbed whatever was in there and threw it onto the ground, slamming the fridge door for the second time that day. 

Once Thor was out of the room Tony walked over to where Thor threw what was in the fridge, it was a box of Pop-Tarts with a sticky-note attached to it. Tony leaned down to read what the box said and laughed.

“What is it?” Bruce asked from where he was sitting at the table.

“Look!” Tony said once he was able to take a breath.

Sighing, Bruce walked over to where Tony was laughing, and then got a box of Pop-Tarts with a sticky-note attached to it shoved in his face. Picking up the sticky-note, he read;

I believe you were looking for these.

-Loki

+1

Thor was grinning ear to ear when he walked into the kitchen.

Tony glanced around to everyone else at the table who was looking pointedly away, fine he’ll ask. “Hey Thor, what’s got you happy?”

“Loki gave me Oreos!” He said brightly, waving a box of Oreos in Tony’s face.

“Oh,” He eyed the Oreos, “can I have one?”

Thor frowned, “but only a few, my brother got these as a gift for me.”

“Alright, yeah.” He said distractedly, picking Oreos out of the container.

“That is enough.” Thor said tightly, eyeing the seven Oreos he took.

“Okay, okay,” he placed six Oreos on the table, and took a bite out of the last one in his hand, “there your Oreos, I get that- OH MY GOD WHAT IS IN THIS!” He spit out the Oreo, dropping the one in his hand. “WHAT IS IN THAT!” He looked up to see Thor with a shit-eating grin, “wait, Thor you said Loki gave you these-” he nodded- “then…”

Thor chuckled and slapped his shoulder, “you have been ‘pranked’!”

He couldn’t believe this, Thor pranked him, Thor. 

Seemingly able to read his thoughts Thor said, “I had not done it alone, in fact it was Loki’s idea.”

So it was Loki pranked him then, let’s see how he likes to have his tea with salt in it. 

[biaswreckmepls]

the one about crushes and awkwardness

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14238852

Author: yoonkookx

Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: Jeon Jungkook/Min Yoongi

Status: Completed

Chapters: 1/1 (5692 words)

Tags: College AU, 4+1 Things (i’ll tag it as 5)

Summary:

jeongguk just wished he was normal around min yoongi.

or; the four times jeongguk managed to embarrass himself in front of his crush and the one time he doesn't.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14238852