#I think it just came off my towel which I'm really annoyed about

[drbased]

i

did a moth just literally fly out my of vagina

am I in a cartoon

[novvabee]

And They Were Roommates

My first time writing so here we go

Summary: How you end up as their roommate

Walking up the steps to the lovely little house on a lovely little street shouldn’t have had you as nervous as it did. The house was exactly as Lily described; charming. It wasn’t new by any standards, but it was a well lived in home. Sure the little garden needed tending to, and there were some cracks running up the walls, but it seemed so warm and inviting. It is better than nothing.

Lily, lovely, kind, sweet Lily was the one who offered up this place. You had come into work that day with a tear-stained face and a stressed demeanor, and Lily knew something had to be off. During your break, she asked what was wrong and you instantly fell apart yet again. You told her about all the horrid circumstances about your apartment. “My roommates are insane, the rent is way too expensive, it’s all the way across town, there’s mold in the shower, I have noisy neighbors, and the landlord is an asshole and a creep,” you rattled off, still teary and frustrated. Lily nodded, listening, thinking of some way to offer up a solution. Hesitantly, she told you about one place she knew that had an extra bedroom available. “Now I have to warn you, there is no guarantee that the people who live there won't be less crazy than your old roommates, but they are nice! I’ve known them for years, they're really cool.” And with that she wrote down an address and told you to meet her there after your shift. 

Which is where you are now, following Lily up the brick stairs to your new potential place to stay. She knocks on the door and waits for it to swing open revealing a young man with long black hair, tied back messily. He was tall, and handsome, his blue-gray eyes sly and gleaming. “Ah Evans, lovely day to you. What brings you ‘round?” His voice was melodic although a tad gruff. She didn’t answer, just pushed her way through, as if she’d done it a million times. You made to follow her and he opened the door wide for you allowing you to walk through. That's when you noticed the tattoos littering his hands. His sleeves cut off what you could see, but you assumed that the tattoos stretched further up his arms. You looked up at him, smiling awkwardly as he tilted his head at you. You’d been caught admiring the markings.

“Where’s James? I texted him.” Lily called from the living room. You followed the sound of her voice into the open living area. It was cozy, a mix of large plush armchairs that matched a big squashy brown couch. There were a couple bookcases filled with books, gadgets, and plants surrounding the tv. A record player to the side. The area was so inviting, not at all like your old apartment.

“I don’t know, I just woke up,” The boy said a tad bit annoyed “Care to introduce your friend?” he gestured over to you

“This is Y/N, my friend from work. She needs a place to stay- I texted this all to James I thought he would’ve told you.” she said in a rushed tone. “Where is he? I specifically-”

“-He’s in the shower Lils” called another voice from a boy now entering the room. He was much taller than the first boy. He had sandy brown hair and light eyes, just as handsome as the first boy, but in a softer way. You noticed a scar running across his face that made him more attractive if you were being honest. He smiled kindly at you and said, “I'm Remus, and that’s Sirius.” He nodded to the black haired boy.

Someone came bounding down the steps, another boy with brown hair and green eyes. He was dripping wet with only a towel wrapped around his waist. He was just as attractive as Remus and Sirius, and well you couldn’t help but… admiring… how fit he was. How could you when it was so graciously on display.

“James! Did you not tell them about Y/N?” Lily yelled at James, annoyed but slightly playful.

“I forgot?”

Lily picked up a pillow from the nearby oversized armchair and threw it at James who dodged it and ran back up the stairs laughing. “Get dressed and come back down here!” she called after him.

She whirled back to you and the two other boys, singing and making her way over to the couch, beckoning you to join her. “These boys” she rolled her eyes “It’s a wonder how this house is still standing” she joked with you.

“We can hear you Evans.” Sirius said sliding into an armchair, Remus casually leaning over the back of the same chair.

“That's the point Black” she debuted.

The dripping wet boy, who you guessed must be James, came back downstairs in more than just a towel this time, but donning a pair of glasses.

He walked straight up to you. “Hi I’m James,” He said, shaking your hand heartily. He was quite warm. “Lily told me about your situation and it sounds shit. I, for one, would be perfectly fine with you staying here, but you see this is a democracy and Remus and Sirius also get a vote.” His words left his mouth at a mile a minute, he seemed to have energy like bottled lightning.”Oh by the way,” he turned to the other boys “this is Y/N, she needs a place to stay.”

“Yeah, we got that much mate, thanks.” Remus chuckled.

“You’re frightening her James, you’ll scare her off” Sirius joked.

You laughed slightly, your nerves easing slightly. But the small noise made everyone turn to you for some input.

“Uh- I don’t want to impose, it is totally fine if you decide that you don’t want another roommate, I mean, you all seem very close and it might be awkward adding another person to the mix, so If you don’t want me to live here I get it, I mean, it is your house, I’d just be staying as a guest I guess,” you started playing with your fingers. The boys shared a look.

“I'm gonna stop you right there love,” Sirius interrupted. “We wouldn't mind another roommate at all.”

“Yeah,” James agreed, ”I’m sure you'd fit in perfectly with us lot. I mean, any friend of Lil’s is a friend of ours.” He smiled at you reassuringly.

“Are you sure? I mean it would only be a couple of months until I can find the right place and-”

“No need. Our house is always open to friends. People are always in and out. Lily has stayed here I don’t even know how many times.” Remus interrupted. “You’re fine to stay however long you need, forever if you want.”

“Really? I- I-Uh. Thank you. Really I mean it, I really appreciate it. I’ll be the best roommate ever, I promise! I'll cook and clean.”  At that, the boys smiled back at you. You felt a wave of relief wash over you. “I can get you guys the rent once I'm all moved in.” You were very excited now, Lily sharing your excitement pulled you from the couch and up the stairs to show you your new room.

“Oh no need” Sirius shouts after you but you didn't hear. They could hear the two of you giggling and talking about decorating.

“Ok we're going to need a new list of house rules.” Remus spoke up to the other two boys. 

Sirius looked up at him shocked. “What, why?”

“Well one, she's a girl. That means put clothes on when walking around the house,” he directed at James. “Two she obviously needs to come out of her shell a little, we don't wanna scare her now do we?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” James asks.

“She's not used to the chaos that you two seem to feed off of so, maybe just tone it down slightly.” Remus replied.

“No promises,” Sirius mused.

Remus just brushed him off and said more serious now “She’s also…” he paused making sure you and Lily were still upstairs and couldn't hear, ”a muggle.”

The other two boys nodded understanding this important rule. “So no magic? What about quidditch I can’t just stop- Moony what about you?,” James asked.

Remus thought for a moment. This may be harder than they thought, but they weren’t going to go back on it now. “Ok, just no magic out in the open and be careful about it when you do use it. Agreed?,” the other two nodded. “And as for me… we’ll just figure that out when it comes time.”

Sirius looked at the other two. “And what about when she finds out about…” he motioned between all three of them “Us.”

The three of them shared glances and started thinking of how much they had to keep from you. This was definitely going to be harder than they thought.

[mr-yuugo]

Find Out For Yourself

-Lilia Vanrouge x Reader [Gender Neutral]-

Words: 1,597

Summary: After a few frights, the reader finds out that Lilia really isn't a girl.

Posted this on my AO3 account as well as Wattpad!

Rain poured down from the thundering sky. You, Grim, and the two heartslabyul freshmen ran to the ramshackle dorm. "Myah! Henchman hurry up!" Grim growled in your arms. You were currently carrying him, shielding him as best you could from the rain. Beside you, Ace scowled. "Shut it Grim! Or I'll make the prefect put you down!"

At Ace's words, Grim shut up only letting a few grumbles leave his mouth. Finally arriving at the dorm's porch, Deuce was quick to open the door. You all hurried inside. "Augh finally out of the rain." Ace cheered. You nodded your head putting Grim down on the floor. "You boys stay here I'll go get towels for you to dry off."

Heading to your bathroom you reached for the towels you would need and quickly headed back to the lounge. You saw them taking off their coats and placing them messily on the floor. Handing them the towels you took the liberty of drying grim off before doing so yourself.

After you were all dry you all sat in the lounge. A sigh left Ace's lips as he pouted. "Great now we're stuck here..." Grim simply rolled his eyes. "You saying you rather be outside in the rain? Be my guest!" Grim said sticking out his tongue.

"Calm down you two." You groaned in annoyance, Deuce nodding his head. "Do calm down, I'm sure Y/N wouldn't care to throw both of you out if you kept being annoying." Deuce grinned.

"You wouldn't do that right Y/N..?" Ace mumbled as he slowly turned to you. Chuckling you hummed. "Who knows? Keep it up and I just might have to." Ace shivered at your words, deep down knowing you could if you really wanted to.

...

Thunderstruck as all of you talked in the lounge. Grim in your lap as you both shared a blanket. You and Grim had your backs turned to the window, sitting on the carpet resting your hands on the table in front of you.

Deuce and Ace shared another blanket as they sat on the couch. You all took turns telling scary stories. "Okay okay, have you heard about the ghost that haunts diasomnia?" Ace whispered to which Grim let out an annoyed grumble. "Please ghost stories? I thought you could do better than that. Me and Y/N literally live with them!"

"Hear me out, have you guys even been to their dorm?" Ace asked, you all shook your head from left to right. "Well, they say that when you first get sorted into diasomnia you always have trouble sleeping the first night..."

"Why is that?" Deuce spoke his voice quiet as he clung to the warmth the blanket gave him. "Well, there is a mysterious figure that watches them from the windows. Watching their every step to ensure they're fit to join diasomnia. And well you know how diasomnia is, it's so creepy and dark."

Thunderstruck once more as Grim jumped slightly in your lap. Grinning you spoke, "So do you think this ghost might terrorize other dorms?" You asked. "Eeek! Don't even say such a thing!" Grim scolded you as he clung to you. Ace laughed creepily as he nodded slowly. "I'm sure Y/N! I remember you saying that you would sometimes wake up to see stuff in your mirror right?"

You nodded and Deuce sat up straight. "You don't think it has something to do with the diasomnia ghost do you..?" Ace raised a brow, a teasing smirk on his face. "Is Deucey scared?" Deuce furrowed his brows. "Am not!" He said angrily. "Anyway, they say the creature appears upside down, almost like a bat. Just like tonight, thunder strikes causing a very small light to shine on the creature."

When Ace said that, your mind drifted. "Upside down like a bat..." You hummed. "Ah, that reminds me of that vice house warden..." You mumbled. Grim's ears perked up. "What vice house warden?" He asked.

"I'm not sure you remember but I first encountered them when we came back to the dorm after the whole scarabia showdown. They appeared out of nowhere, floating upside down. I believe their name was Lilia." Deuce let out a hum "Oh that is the name for diasomnia's vice house warden right?" Your memory came back to you as you eagerly nodded your head. "Yeah, that's it! Actually, I wanted to ask if-" An exceptionally loud thunderbolt halted your words.

Deuce's eyes widened as he nudged Ace. "D-did you see that?" He asked with his eyes going wide. "See what Deuce?" You asked him. You saw him nervously gulp. "On the window! I saw something floating around and I'm already telling you it was no bird or animal!" Grim crossed his paws, an annoyed look on his face. "Did the story really mess you up that bad?"

"No! I swear I saw someone! Did you see it, Ace?" Deuce asked. "No, I didn't stop messing around Deuce," Ace grumbled. "I promise I am not-"

BANG

Grim shrieked at the sound. "What was that?!" He yelled out, his claws going into your skin. Wincing you scolded him. "Stop it Grim! And Deuce it was probably nothing how about we all just calm down?" You saw something from the corner of your eye. Leaning your body back slightly you notice the previously closed door to the lounge is now open.

"Wasn't the door closed?" You asked as you got up from your spot on the carpet. Carrying Grim in your hands you left the blanket on the floor. "Oh please Y/N not you too. I swear it's probably nothing like you said." Ace rolled his eyes.

Getting closer to the door Grim clung to you tightly. "Why are you investigating it!? Haven't you seen the movies?" You stood in front of the open doors, looking to your right you quickly glanced up the stairs. Noticing nothing you walked through the hallway that led to the front door of the lounge.

"Y/N wait up! Don't leave me behind!" Deuce hurried up and began walking next to you. Ace also coming to walk with the three of you. "Look! The front door is open." Grim shrieked. Giving Grim to Ace you slowly walked up to the door and opened it fully. "Weird...there is no one here." You quietly said.

Deuce let out a sigh of relief. Turning your body to walk back to the lounge you came face to face with someone. "Hey there!" You heard the voice in front of you speak. "Ahh!" You all screamed as you put a hand on your racing heart. Floating upside down was the dripping wet house warden. "You did it again!" You yelled as you calmed down.

You heard Lilia laugh as he floated down landing feet first onto the wooden floor. "Mind if I stay here to dry?" He asked you, an innocent smile on his face. "Sure you're more than welcome too." You smiled at him as you began to look him up and down. "They really do look like a girl...but that voice says different." You thought with a sigh. "Well, it's useless to think about it."

"I'll get you a dry towel." You told him before turning to the boys who looked kinda of nervous. "Mind taking Lilia to the lounge? I'll be right back."

...

Lilia was now dry and you were both enjoying some late-night snacks. The rain hadn't given up as you smiled at seeing the sleeping figures of Ace and Deuce sleeping comfortably on the couch. Grim had already retired to your shared room as it was just you and the fae talking quietly while eating your snacks.

"Didn't you teleport last time we met? I'm sure you could have made your way to the mirror chamber just fine." You raised your brow in suspicion. Lilia chuckled and slowly nodded his head. "I suppose I could but I just happened to see you all having so much fun, I wanted to join in too."

"Ah, so Deuce wasn't going crazy..." Giggling quietly you looked at Lilia from the corner of your eye. Your eyes wandered around his figure almost as if you were analyzing him. His eyes met yours, catching your attention.

"Hm? What is this? What is it that you hope to do by undressing me with your eyes?" He said, sending you a teasing smirk. You blushed in embarrassment, "I'm sorry it's just that you look so much like a girl. You're very pretty you know?"

Lilia's eyes widened for a second before closing, the teasing smirk finding its place on his lips once more. "I suppose I am huh? Well, it's all just part of my innocent look." He stopped talking for a second before he turned his body fully to you. "Would you like to find out for yourself?" He asked. You tilted your head in confusion. "What do you mean?

Lilia reached for your hand, an innocent smile on his face. You saw him slowly bring your hand up placing it on his chest. His palm was on the back of your hand as he moved it around in a circular motion. You gasped in shock but didn't dare move away.

You heard Lilia let out a pleased hum. "So?" He asked as he let you pull your hand back onto your lap. You stared at him, no words leaving your lips. You're face turning redder than a tomato.

He just sent you a cocky grin as he watched steam blow out from your ears.

[possiblyreallyme]

Oooo headcannon’s…If possible can we get Ace with a reader who’s fire resistant due to a devil fruit?

Hello!!! I love love love receiving your asks! i'm so sorry this took so long, i finished writing it at the start of november but it got deleted when i went to post it😭

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He is a silly goose at heart, and if you're his friend, you'll need to be ready for a few pranks once he finds out about your fire-resistance. For example, setting you ablaze when meeting strangers because their reactions are priceless, or annoying you with little fire-punches that have flames licking at your cheeks when sat next to each other at dinner (his fist never actually came in contact with your skin— he's not that stupid), or anything else he can come up with.

Also, expect a lot of testing. Like, constantly bothering you and begging you to be a guinea pig for the new move he's been wanting to try, or seeing how hot he can make his flames by slowly trying to burn your palm, things like that. Of course he'd be careful if you were unsure of it, but he would trust you enough to be 100% confident that you'd be fine if you told him that there was no way he could burn you.

If he had a crush on you though, he's a little bit more careful. Yes, he knows that you won't get burned no matter what, but with the added complexity of having feelings for you, he doesn't really want to risk anything. That doesn't mean he won't show off though, because trust me, he loves to do that.

He'll create firework shows just for you, or come up with excuses to use his powers whenever he can— including warming you up by making himself a human bonfire.

Now, if you're his lover, the whole game changes.

If you were a badass, cool, tough kinda babe, he has little issue with creating small flames in the palm of his hand and letting you play around with them, but that's about where he draws the line before he gets too worried. If you were the sweet, kind, shy type however, I don't think he'd be able to bring his flames anywhere near your skin.

He'd be WAYYYYY too paranoid to set his sweetheart on fire— what if he burned you?? What if your devil fruit powers worked differently then you thought???? WHAT IF YOU HATED HIM AFTERWARDS????

"Ace, come on, stop being a party pooper!" You whine, wanting to test out your abilities. And what better way to do so then with your fire-fist boyfriend? "Babydoll, I'm not gonna set you on fire..." He murmured uneasily, as if the thought made his skin crawl. "Fun hater😒" "Love you too, angel-face!😚"

For afab readers, he most definitely works as your full-time heating pad when you're on your period.

It wasn't even your idea— he just asked Marco how to ease your cramps (tearfully, might I add, mans was terrified for you), and he just about jumped with joy when he found out that heat makes it better, skipping back to your cabin to fulfill his God-given duty, which was cradling you like a baby to his chest and heating your back and stomach.

NSFW HEADCANONS BELOW! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

While on the topic of periods, hear me out: heated period sex.

My man loves him so good period sex, especially if you let him act as an internal heating pad by warming his cock. He'll keep his large hand on your stomach to feel the bulge of his cock and heat up his palm to ease your cramps, whispering sweet praises into your ears while he keeps himself to the hilt, letting you adjust to his large size while he himself tried not to cry out in bliss.

Mess? What mess? You think the Fire Fist Ace is afraid of some blood? Honey, we have towels for a reason, don't even worry about it.

100% into temperature play, but again, only uses real fire if you're the tougher type or you beg. Though you'll never forget that one time he teased your nipples with a flame on the tip of his tongue...

In summery: Ace is a complicated guy, so your personality and role definitely change his opinions a lot (sorry if the way i'm writing it is annoying tho).

[pensat-i-fet]

Loss of trust (Rúben Dias x Reader)

**Finally back with another imagine. This was requested alongside one for Dušan Vlahović you can read here. The idea was to do the same premise for both but differently. Hope you enjoy it ❤️**

Word count: 1177

Masterlist

Wattpad

One of the most important things in a relationship, if not the most important, is trust. It wasn't always easy to get someone to trust you but it could be very easy to lose that trust one worked so hard to achieve.

Rúben knew it hadn't been easy to get you to trust him. However, he didn't know why. But he had multiple theories about it. Maybe you didn't trust him because footballers had a reputation and could he really blame you? Maybe you had been hurt by other people you trusted and developed trust issues. Or maybe that was the way you were and it wasn't anything wrong.

But not knowing the origin came with the problem that it made it way easier for him to mess up without even knowing he was messing up.

“I'm just saying that guy was a bit too friendly”.

“And you think it's my fault?”, you told him back, tired of how he had spent the night sulking because a guy talked to you.

“I didn't say it was your fault”.

“You didn't need to, Rúben. I know the speech already”.

“It was him. He was all over you and I just waited for you to tell him to go away…”.

“So it is my fault”.

“No”, he said, hands on his hair. “But you're too nice. And he took advantage of that and…”.

“Too nice…and maybe my dress is too sexy too. Find more things I did wrong while you're at it”.

Rúben grew frustrated by your reaction. You wouldn't listen to him and he just wanted to explain to you why he was so annoyed. So when you kept interrupting him, he hit the table. It wasn't in an aggressive way. He just placed his palm with more force than usual and it made a louder noise. And you flinched.

“Just listen to me, please…”.

But when he looked up at you, he frowned. You went quiet all of a sudden and not because of his request. He noticed you looking down at your lap and shaking slightly.

“Are you cold?”, he asked and you shook your head. “What’s going on? You look really pale”.

“I’m fine”.

“You’re not, you’re shaking”.

Rúben lifted his hand to touch you and you moved back. What the hell?

“Why are you acting like this? You're scaring me”.

“I need to go”, you said, picking up your bag and making your way out.

“Go? We have to go home together. I'm the one driving…”.

“Please, Rúben. Just let me go. I need to be alone”.

The last thing he wanted was for you to leave alone when he wasn't sure you were ok but he saw the plea in your eyes and nodded. He didn't know what was going on but he realised pushing you to tell him was not going to end well.

“Text me when you get home, please. I'll be back soon too if that's ok”.

You just nodded before leaving. Rúben didn't know which one of his requests you agreed with or if you were even listening to him. But he let you go.

The moment you got home, you took your coat off and walked to the room. You needed to get the dress off too. It made you feel trapped. And you needed a shower because you felt dirty.

“He's not like him”, you whispered. “I know Rúben is not like him”.

The hot water relieved the tension of your muscles and allowed you to relax for a second. Picking up your lavender-scented shower gel, you washed your skin and inhaled the calming scent, trying to calm your nerves down.

Rúben made it home when you were still in the shower. He wasn't planning on being back so early, wanting to give you more time, but you didn't text and he was worried. He sighed, relieved when he saw your coat on the floor and picked it up.

He heard the shower and sat down in your bed, trying to think how to approach this conversation.

“Oh…hi”.

He turned to look at you, wearing a towel around your body and brushing your hair.

“You ok?”

You nodded. “I’m better”.

“Can I ask what happened at the party? I'm sorry I got jealous but…I didn't expect that reaction. I wasn't blaming you. I swear”.

The sincerity of his words hurt. You had been unfair with him but you didn't mean to.

“Let me put some clothes on and then we talk, ok?”

“Sure”.

He just sat on the bed, looking at you moving around the room picking up some pajamas you could wear and waiting for an explanation.

“I haven't been fully honest with you, Rúben”, you started, sitting down next to him.

“In which way?”

“You know how I never wanted to talk about my previous relationships when you asked me?”, he nodded. “That’s because it's hard for me to do so”.

“You don't have to then…”.

“No”, you told him, placing your hand over his. “It's the only way you can understand me fully”.

Telling the story was too similar to reliving it in your head, which was something you tried to avoid as much as humanly possible. But Rúben deserved the effort.

“My ex was very controlling. That's how it started. No other man could ever talk to me and if they did, they were clearly flirting with me and it had to be because I was leading them on”.

Rúben closed his eyes, now understanding why you felt like he was blaming you for his own jealousy.

“I was too friendly, of course guys would misunderstand that. I was wearing clothes that were too sexy, so guys were bound to think I was easy and willing to cheat…the list goes on. You can imagine how it continued”.

“Yes”, was all Rúben said.

“And then controlling me with words wasn't enough…”.

Rúben didn't need to hear more to understand what had happened. “I'm sorry you went through that”.

“Yeah…and I'm sorry you pay for it too. My trust issues affect you now too”.

“I don't mind that. Honestly…”.

“When you hit the table, I thought you were going to hit me, Rúben”.

The admission hurt him but seeing the tears in your eyes hurt way more.

“I would never…”.

“I know. That's why I had to leave. Not because I was afraid of you. Because I felt sick for comparing you to him in my head when I know you're nothing like him. I'm sorry I did that but the noise triggered something inside of me I can’t control”.

“You've got nothing to apologise for”, he said, bringing you closer to him to hold you.

He just wanted to hold you for as long as it took to remove the pain that was still inside of you.

“I trust you, Rúben. I really do”, you said and those words made him so happy.

“Thank you for telling me. And for finding me deserving of your trust. I'll prove to you I'm worthy of it”.

[roosterforme]

Old Habits Die Hard Part 2 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Bradley is interested in you, but so is his fraternity brother. And even if Bradley can get you in his room again, you can't seem to get past his door.

Warnings: Angst, swears, mention of sex

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (fuckboy college student Bradley)

Check my profile for my masterlist

When Bradley woke up with Phoebe pressed against him for the second day in a row, it made him feel annoyed above all else. He shouldn't still be calling her to come over like this. It had been three years already, and they should either be dating or nothing at all.

"Pheebs, it's late," he told her, even though it was barely nine o'clock. He just wanted her to go. So he got out of bed and grabbed a clean towel. "I'm going to take a shower," he told her as he threw away the condom wrapper that was on his floor. As he walked out of his room, he tried to ignore the writing on his door, and he hoped if he took a long enough shower, Phoebe would be gone when he got back. 

The bathroom was still filthy, but the shower was hot, and it felt good. He would clean up the house this week, and he'd make Tyson and Jeff help him. He briefly wondered if he could get any information about you out of Jeff. God, you were so cute, and cute girls really got him going. You were wearing actual clothing, jeans and stuff that would have been fun for him to remove. You didn't seem like the high maintenance types that favored his fraternity parties, and he liked that about you too. 

Your lips were pouty and your words had kept him on his toes the entire time he was with you. He'd thought about your hand while Phoebe's was on his dick last night. He'd thought about your body while he was inside her. He wondered what kinds of noises you would make, and he wanted to be the one coaxing them out of you. Not Jeff. He wouldn't do a good enough job. But Bradley would.   

And now his dick was hard. "Fuck," he groaned, stroking himself. This had to be a brand new low for him, jerking off in the shower to the thought of one girl while a different girl was still in his bed from the previous night. 

But he could picture you licking your lips and calling him Beer Boy. He could remember exactly how your voice sounded. And he came as he whispered your name. 

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

You woke up still thinking about Bradley. Jeff was the one who walked you home, and you'd even kissed him on the cheek, but you had been thinking about his taller, feistier fraternity brother the entire time. 

What was wrong with you? Bradley's door was literally covered in girls' names and phone numbers! And whoever Phoebe was... well, she made it clear she was his number one. 

You decided you would spend Sunday getting Bradley out of your system, and then on Monday you would start fresh. You were going to ask Jeff out. When you were alone with him in the library, you were going to do it. You thought he would say yes. He had seemed a little concerned last night when you told him you went upstairs to check out Bradley's room.

"You and every other girl," Jeff had remarked with a scowl. 

But Bradley had actually been pretty sweet. He'd even held your hand. The only reason you asked him to stop was because he promised he wouldn't touch you without permission, and you wanted to see what he would do. But part of you wanted him to keep holding your hand, and maybe touch you in other places too. And if Jeff hadn't called your phone to see where you went, you would have gladly stayed in Bradley's room longer. 

When you took a shower, you had to physically force yourself to stop thinking about him. It looked like you had the apartment to yourself for the morning after Janessa texted you to say she was going to stay with Tyson. Apparently he had been the one to win Janessa's attention. You couldn't help but wonder which Beta guy had been the one to lose out to Tyson. It certainly seemed like it was Bradley. Could it be because he was paying attention to you instead of her?

You spent the entire afternoon studying and getting ready for the week. And when you got to class and saw Jeff on Monday morning, you forced yourself to remember you had a crush on him. 

"Hey," he said, dropping down to sit next to you in your calculus classroom. "We studying in the library after lunch?"

"Sure," you replied, but now that you really looked at him, maybe he wasn't as cute as you had originally thought? You used to love blonds. Not that you had a ton of experience, but pretty much all of your crushes and hookups had looked similar to Jeff. Bradley looked completely different. Dark hair, smirking lips, intense brown eyes. 

As class started, you let your forehead rest against your textbook. You couldn't stop thinking about Bradley, but you really needed to. 

And it didn't help that he showed up to the tiny study room you were sharing with Jeff that afternoon.

You had almost done it. You had almost worked up the nerve to ask Jeff if he wanted to go to one of the basketball games with you, when Bradley poked his head inside the room and said, "Hey."

With one word, your mouth went slightly agape and you couldn't think up a single response. He was wearing a backwards cap and an adorable grin.

"What are you doing here?" Jeff asked, his voice laced with suspicion. "You never come to the library."

"First time for everything," Bradley replied with his eyes on you as he said it. "How are you?"

"I'm doing just fine, Beer Boy," you replied, trying your best not to smile. 

"I'm still Beer Boy? Come on, I told you my name," he replied, plopping into the third chair at the tiny table. 

"If you're not going to study quietly, we'll kick you out," Jeff told him with a warning tone. 

Bradley shrugged at him and pulled a novel out of his bag. "I told you yesterday when we were cleaning the house that I had to read for English," Bradley replied, but he was still looking right at you. "Don't you remember? It was right after we were talking about Y/N."

Your eyes went wide. "You were talking about me?"

You saw Jeff grimace at the same time Bradley grinned at you. "Yeah," Bradley confirmed. "You're the talk of the town."

An embarrassed heat crept up your neck. "What did you two say about me?"

Jeff cleared his throat loudly. "Dude, let us study or get out."

With one more grin in your direction, Bradley switched his focus to Ernest Hemingway, leaving you and Jeff in the requested silence to get your work done. But your heart was still pounding, and Bradley's knee came to rest against yours under the table.

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

Bradley was being an asshole. He knew it. Jeff knew it. You probably knew it too. But he didn't really care, because he had just made you blush. He didn't spend time with girls who were even capable of blushing anymore, and he really wanted to reach out and feel how warm your cheeks were. 

When he had been cleaning the Beta house with Jeff and Tyson yesterday, he asked Jeff what the deal was with you. When Jeff waffled a bit, Bradley announced that he thought you were fucking adorable. He watched Jeff's face fall, and he heard Tyson snicker. 

Then Jeff glared at him. "Don't even try it. I'm begging you. She's a nice girl."

Bradley felt his hands clench. So the guys thought he wasn't deserving of a nice girl. It wasn't that he didn't agree with them for the most part, but that still stung a bit. It's not like he was going to try to fuck you and never talk to you again. It wasn't like he was going to ignore you or hurt you. Shit. He liked you.

He had dropped the conversation after that. But he knew you and Jeff spent a lot of time together at the library on campus. So he decided it was time to pop his library cherry and pay the place a visit. And from there, it wasn't hard to find your study room. 

He wasn't really reading The Sun Also Rises, because he had finished it last week and already completed his essay. He was silently studying you as you ran the eraser end of your pencil along your bottom lip. Jesus, he'd love to put his cock there. He'd been thinking about you a lot, in every position imaginable. Now he wondered if he could make you blush all the way down to your tits. 

Your eyes met his over the book, and you smirked like you knew what he was thinking about. He was kind of hoping his thoughts were transparent to you. He would love it if you knew how he imagined you, looking all fucked out in his bed. If Jeff wasn't sitting there, Bradley would have made a move. You should be sitting in his lap by now in an ideal world. 

When Bradley felt your knee rubbing his, he had to bite back a moan. He was sure you did that on purpose, but when he reached for your leg, you were already out of your seat. "Shit, I'm going to be late for my lab!" you said, tossing everything into your bag and looping your arms through the straps. 

Bradley was instantly out of his seat as well. "I'll walk with you. I need to get lunch anyway." He took one last fleeting look at Jeff's pissed off expression as he followed you out of the study room. 

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

You kept glancing over your shoulder as you practically ran out of the library, but Bradley was right there with you. Your smile grew each time you glanced back, and he was smiling at you, too.

"You don't have to walk with me, Beer Boy," you told him as you rushed past the circulation desk.

"What if I want to?" he asked, waving to a group of girls who looked surprised to see him in the library. 

"It's a free country. I can't stop you from walking across campus." 

"God bless America," he mumbled as you both stepped onto the sidewalk side by side. "You know, it's only fair if I give you a nickname too, since you won't use my real name."

You couldn't help but giggle at how ridiculous he was. "Maybe that's fair. But I've already been called every iteration of nerd out there, so hit me with your best."

"Nerd? That's the furthest thing from my mind when I think about you," he said as you led him through the quad toward the science building. 

"So you've been talking about me and thinking about me?" you asked, trying to focus on where you were walking. 

"Hmmm," he hummed in response. "I'm going to call you Pretty Miss Decimal. No, wait... Mesmerizing Mathlete. You were a mathlete in high school, weren't you?" You just rolled your eyes in response, and he said, "Yeah. Thought so. I can tell by the way smart girls make me feel." 

You had reached your classroom door with one minute to spare, and now you were gaping at him. No wonder he had so many phone numbers on his bedroom door. "How do smart girls make you feel, Beer Boy?"

The grin he aimed your way was lethal. "I'll tell you later, Sugar. Don't want you to be late for class." He ran his fingers softly through your hair, and then he was gone, and you were still standing at the door like an idiot as your professor came over to close it. 

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

On Wednesday afternoon, Bradley sat in the living room of his fraternity house, ignoring calls from Phoebe and trying to study. He needed the best grades possible to still have a chance at naval officer training. Not that he'd ever told anyone that. 

Jeff tried to walk through the house without Bradley noticing. He'd been trying to avoid Bradley since the party on Saturday night. The party where Bradley met you.

"Why are you ignoring me?" Bradley called to Jeff before he could disappear into the kitchen. "It's about her, isn't it?"

Jeff tossed his books onto the armchair and came to stand right in front of Bradley where he sat on the couch. "Of course it's about her."

Bradley sighed. "You want me to back off because you like her, or because you think I'm a scumbag?" he asked. 

Jeff just looked at him, and Bradley had the growing urge to punch him in the face. Maybe a fight would make him feel better. It's not like his face could get more fucked up looking than it already was. Having Jeff hit him back would probably feel cathartic. Fighting over a girl who would probably only ever call him Beer Boy and tell him not to hold her hand would be good for him. Help him remember his place. 

Just then his phone rang again, vibrating across the coffee table, illuminated with Phoebe's name. 

"Why don't you answer your booty call?" Jeff asked him, picking up the phone and handing it to Bradley. "And leave the nice girls alone."

Bradley ignored the call and stood abruptly, towering over Jeff by a good few inches, but his friend didn't back down at all. "You afraid she might like me better? You afraid she would rather fuck me than go on a date with you? We could always just ask her. She's smart, you know. Probably knows what she wants."

"You do enough damage around here. Just stay the fuck away from her," Jeff warned before storming off.

But Bradley could not. He crashed the study room again on Thursday. Jeff glared when he arrived, but you smiled brightly at him. 

"Beer Boy, what brings you by?" you asked softly. Bradley sat down in the empty chair after pulling it a few inches closer to you. 

"Just wanted to check on my favorite Mathlete. How was your lab the other day?" 

"It was good. But you never finished what you started to tell me," you whispered, and Bradley saw you glance at Jeff. 

Bradley smiled at your pouty lips. "About how smart girls make me feel?"

"Time for class!" Jeff announced, even though Bradley knew you had at least five more minutes before you really needed to leave. "You coming?" 

You started to pack up your books. "Yeah," you told Jeff. "Go ahead, I'll catch up." 

Jeff looked between you and Bradley before turning and walking away slowly.

Bradley didn't waste any time, leaning in close and telling you, "They make me want to kiss them until they sound stupid. Touch them until they sound so fucking dumb."

When your teeth sunk into your soft bottom lip, Bradley almost grabbed you and kissed you. You were stuck in his mind, and he couldn't even distract himself with Phoebe. He could make you want him back. He knew he could. 

"I gotta go," you told him breathlessly, staring at his lips. "Maybe I'll see you tomorrow night? Jeff invited me to the house for the party."

Bradley nodded his head. "I'll be there. Come find me if you want." There, he'd firmly put the ball back in your court. He'd let you know exactly what he thought about you. If you wanted Jeff, so be it. He could probably make himself want Phoebe again. Or he could find someone else. But he knew he would still think about you.

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

Apparently Janessa and Tyson were a full blown thing now. You walked to the Beta house with her, and listened to her rambling on about him.

"He's so sexy, don't you think? He's got that flawless face with the squared jaw. He's actually almost too hot, if that makes sense. Just a totally different vibe than Bradley. Not that he's not cute in his own way, even with all the scars, but I think Tyson was a way better pick for me, you know?"

You paused. "So Bradley was the other guy you were trying to hook up with?" You'd had that suspicion all along, since he was the other one Janessa was hanging all over last weekend. 

"Yeah, but he hadn't been paying me that much attention. Stopped wanting to hang out with me, probably because of Phoebe."

Your heart lurched as you thought about the name in big, bold handwriting on his bedroom door. "Who is she? His girlfriend?" Now you felt awkward, like you wanted to turn around and head back to your apartment. Why was he flirting with you while he had a girlfriend? And if he was flirting with you, then he was probably flirting with anyone who would give him the time of day.

"I'm not sure what they are," she replied as you both walked into the house with the music blaring. Just when you decided that you definitely wanted to turn back, you heard Jeff calling your name and waving you over to where he stood with a group of people. 

"Go have fun," Janessa told you with a wink, and you headed toward Jeff. You'd barely thought about him at all this week, only really paying attention to him when you studied together. And the two times that Bradley had been there as well, your attention was definitely on him and not Jeff. 

"Hey!" Jeff called pulling you in for a hug that you barely reciprocated before backing away. Bradley's words were echoing in your mind. He had invited you to come seek him out. You wanted to find him and hang out with him again. You wanted him to know you'd be okay with him kissing you stupid. You wanted to hear him tell you Phoebe wasn't his girlfriend. 

"Hi, Jeff. Hey, I'm just going to grab one of the good beers out of the kitchen fridge, okay?" 

You made your way through the house, trying to remember how Bradley had led you to the kitchen last time. You stumbled upon Tyson and Janessa kissing, and then you saw a few people you knew from class. When you finally found the kitchen and strolled inside, you noticed how much quieter it was back here. You also noticed Bradley, sitting on the counter next to the refrigerator with a beer in his hand. 

You couldn't help but smile as he hopped down.

"Were you looking for me?" he asked you softly before reaching into the refrigerator and pulling out the same kind of beer you drank last weekend. 

He opened the bottle and handed it to you. "I was just looking for the beer fridge," you told him with a shrug.

"That's why I was sitting next to it, hoping you'd find me too."

You tried not to smile as you took a sip. "Maybe I was looking for you too, but you were definitely my second priority after the beer."

He nodded solemnly. "That makes sense. I can live with that. Come upstairs with me?"

You licked your lips nervously. Jeff was the one who had invited you here. Jeff was the one you were still meaning to ask on a date. Jeff was waiting for you at the other end of the house. But when Bradley held out his hand, you took it. 

"Are you giving me permission to hold your hand tonight?" he asked, lacing his fingers through yours as he led you toward the stairs like last time.

"For now," you told him. 

"I can live with that, too."

His room was just the same as last weekend. His economics book was open on his desk, and his US Navy desk lamp was on.

"Your room is very tidy," you remarked walking past him, barely brushing against him with your shoulder. 

"Always been a bit of a neat freak. Living in this house is frankly quite disgusting at times."

You giggled and stopped to look at the collection of novels on his bookshelf. He had a lot of your favorites. You felt him standing directly behind you, the heat from his body was radiating and warming you.

"What's your major?" you asked him, setting down your beer and flipping through his notebooks. His notes were neat and orderly.

"Political science," he replied, stopping right next to you. "I tried to pick a major where I could guarantee good grades, but I actually really enjoy it."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Why didn't you pick your major because you wanted to study it?"

Bradley shrugged before taking a sip of beer. He seemed hesitant to answer you, but he did anyway. "My dad died when I was a little kid, but I want to have the opportunity to be a naval aviator like he was. Since things didn't work out how I had originally planned... I know I will need a really good GPA to get into the program this late in the game."

"You kept all of your dad's stuff?"

Bradley nodded. "Yeah."

You glanced up at him through your long eyelashes. "Sorry you lost him so young." When Bradley just shrugged in response, you continued. "You want to go to flight school? No wonder your GPA is so high. It's competitive, right?" you asked, softly touching the dog tags again, just like last weekend.

"Very competitive. But I don't mind working hard for something I want," he whispered, leaning a little closer to you. "And now you officially know more about all of that than anyone else here."

"Oh," you whispered, eyeing him carefully. "Even more than Phoebe?"

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

Bradley watched you glance toward his open bedroom door. He didn't have to turn to know you were reading her name where it was written in sharpie. 

Bradley had given Jeff ample time to make a move. Really, he had been more than generous. Jeff had known you for a long time, and it wasn't Bradley's fault if he hadn't sealed the deal with you yet. It wasn't Bradley's fault that Jeff should have already been dating you by now.

But it might have been Bradley's fault that you were in his bedroom, looking at him like you couldn't remember who Jeff even was. 

"Yeah, Sugar. You officially know more about my career ambitions than she does." 

You looked pleased with yourself as you tried to casually drink your beer. Bradley wanted to keep feeding you information if it meant you would stay in here with him.

You turned to face him fully and took your time examining his scars. He was bracing himself to hear you ask about them, but you didn't. "Phoebe? Is she your girlfriend?"

"No."

"Would she be upset if she heard you say that?"

He laughed. "No."  Because truthfully, she would not. 

"And all of those other girls?" you whispered, your eyes on his door again.

"Don't look at that, Sugar. They don't matter." His voice was pleading, even to his own ears. 

"Okay," you told him, and you walked across the room to gently close the door, effectively keeping the names on the other side of it out of the conversation. 

And now it was even quieter in his room. And God, he wanted to taste you. He wanted to fuck you. He wanted to talk to you all night. 

You inched closer to him again. Bradley watched you examine his scars some more. You made no move to be discreet about it.

"You going to ask what happened to me?" Everyone always wanted to know why he looked this way. He wished he could go back, before he'd ended up crashing headfirst through the glass table.  

You shook your head. "No. You can tell me about it when you want to. Or not. You still look hot."

Your eyes went a little wide like you couldn't believe you had said that to him. 

"Oh yeah?" he asked with a grin. "I don't get that as much these days."

You turned away from him again. "Well, that's just because you don't get to hear what people say about you behind your back. Janessa was plenty interested in you before she decided on Tyson."

He didn't really care who else thought he looked good. You just told him you thought he did. 

"I don't care about Janessa," he told you. 

"Good," you said, setting your empty beer bottle on his desk. Bradley loved the way your torn jeans hugged your ass. His body was absolutely begging his brain for permission to touch you. 

"You gonna go out with Jeff?" he asked you, voice raspy as you turned to face him and moved closer.

"He hasn't asked me," you confirmed with a shrug. "You think I should just ask him out?"

"No. That's not a good idea," Bradley told you, touching the ends of your hair. 

"Why not?" you asked softly. He watched your chest rise and fall as your breaths grew shallow. He needed to taste you.

Bradley leaned down and kissed you softly one time. "Because, if you did, he would be so mad that we're kissing right now," he whispered.

You licked your lips and ran your fingertips along his scarred cheek. He was going to lose his mind. 

"Okay, Beer Boy," you whispered, and Bradley's hands were immediately on your hips, pulling you against him. 

Bradley pressed his lips to yours again, and you wrapped your hands around his shoulders and slid them to the back of his neck and into his hair. 

He parted your lips gently with his and tasted your tongue. Sweet. You were so sweet. And you felt so pliant in his hands. He threaded his fingers through the belt loops of your jeans and pulled you even closer.

"Bradley," you moaned, and his cock throbbed for you. 

"Oh, so you do remember my name," he groaned as you ran your hand down the front of his tee shirt. 

You looked up at him, pupils wide and cheeks flushed, running your fingers along his abs. 

"I do," you confirmed. "You gonna kiss me stupid? Make me forget it?"

Bradley grinned. "Now that's one thing I want you to remember, Sugar." 

You bit your lip, and just when Bradley ran his hands under your shirt, touching the soft skin of your waist, his phone rang loudly on his desk. 

You both turned to look at Phoebe's name illuminated on the phone screen. 

"You know what? That's okay," you said, taking a step away from him. "You should answer that, and I'm gonna go." 

"Wait," Bradley said, reaching for your hand. But you pulled it from his grasp and left without another word, eyeing his door as you went. 

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

Thanks for reading this fic! I hope you enjoy this version of Bradley as much as I do! Thanks again to @mak-32 for everything! This fic is for you!

PART 3

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[ineffablesuffering]

Read to Me (Aziraphale X Reader)

So I'm back with a self indulgent fic. I love War of the World's and as I was reading it I thought this up. I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Aziraphale x platonic!reader

Warnings: none!

Word Count: 1281

Masterlist

–------------

It had been a long day. Everything that could have went wrong, went wrong. It started when you missed the bus and had to get a taxi to work, then your interactive whiteboard wouldn't turn on, the children wouldn't listen and then to cheer yourself up, you bought a coffee and proceeded to drop it within 5 minutes of buying it. It had been a long day. The knowledge that it was Friday and you had the weekend to recover was your only comfort.

You walked along the streets of Soho, the sky's darkening as you clutched your bag close to you, focusing on trying to get to your destination before the rain came down, but it was no use. The heavens had opened and rain beat down from the sky above. You would have laughed if you weren't already having a bad day, because to top it off, you had left your hooded jacket at home. Angrily, you swipe at the tears falling from your eyes as they mingled with the raindrops that glided down your skin. You could see the old bookshop on the corner, you prayed that Aziraphale was at home.

You had met the angel of a man in the cafe across the road from his shop one Sunday afternoon. The cafe was brimming with people and seats had been scarce. You had left your planning to the last minute again and all you wanted was a seat and a small space to plan your lessons. You looked around and  spotted a man sitting alone at a larger table with a cup of tea and a book. You made your way to him.

"I'm so sorry to bother you, but is it okay if I sit here? I promise I won't disturb you it's just that there's no more seats," you had said clutching your laptop to your chest.

"Of course," he had said "It's not a problem."

"You're an angel, thank you so much!" you said taking a seat at the table, making sure to give him enough space. You opened your laptop and began to type away.

"Are you a university student?" the man enquired.

"Uh no," you started finishing off the sentence you were typing. "I'm a teacher actually, this is my first year so I'm still getting the hang of things, I've not long graduated."

"A teacher you say? Very amicable. Although you seem rather young to be a teacher?"

"I get that a lot," you chuckle, "I'm 23 so I guess in some ways I am. My kids, my pupils, are only 11 years younger than me which is nothing in the grand scheme of things."

He smiled, "It really isn't."

"I'm Y/N by the way," you smile holding out your hand.

"Aziraphale." He replied shaking your hand.

After that day, you seemed to find yourself in that cafe more often and more often than not, Aziraphale would also be there too. You often sat together and he would sometimes help you plan your week. It was miraculously easy to plan when he was around, you could find everything you needed to on the first attempt. He had become a fast friend and soon you were invited over to his bookshop where he would often let you work if you needed a space to.

So that's where you were headed now, desperately seeking the comfort of a friend and there's no one you felt more comfortable around than Aziraphale. Sometimes, it was nice just to rant about teaching to someone who would quite happily sit and listen to you, rather than tell you how to fix your problems. You got to the door and saw the closed sign but battered on the door anyway. A few moments later a slightly annoyed looking Aziraphale was at the door unlocking it and pulling it open but the minute he saw your drenched figure his face softened.

"My dear! Come in," he said, stepping aside to let you in.

You brush past him quickly, trying to clear your face quickly so he doesn't see you crying. He's quick to your side suddenly with a towel in his hand but you were too upset to even think about where he got it from. He handed you the towel with a sympathetic smile on his face. You mumble a small thank you before taking it off of him using the warm towel to take some of the moisture out of your hair.

"My dear, whatever is the matter?" He asks guiding you towards a chair, but his kind words make you stop and a sob wrecks through your body. "Oh dear," he says bringing you into a tight embrace, stroking the back of your head gently, "Shhh," he hushes trying to calm you down "it's going to be okay." You clutch on to him and let the tears that had been building fall freely down your face. The pair of you stand like that for awhile, you holding on to Aziraphale like your life depended on it while he stroked your head and back whispering soothing words into your ear.

You rear back after awhile, but stay close. The emotions of the day clear on your face. "I'm sorry," you whisper hoarsely.

"Whatever for?"

"I got you all wet"

"Don't worry about it, you're being silly." he smiled softly at you. "Come sit with me and tell me what has gotten you so upset" he took the towel out of your hand and placed it on a table, walking you over to the sofa tucked up the back of the shop and sat down beside you holding your hand.

You told him about your day, everything from missing your bus to dropping your coffee and everything in between. He sat and listened patiently, never interrupting just nodding softly when required. You let out all your emotions and stress of the day, hell the week, and he listened.

"Well," he said when you had finished your rant. "You clearly haven't had a great day."

"You can say that again," you mumbled looking at the floor. "I'm sorry for barging in like this, I just didn't know where else to go."

"You never have to apologise my dear, I'm happy you can seek comfort in me." he said softly brushing a stray tear from your face as you raised your head to look at him. "Now what do we say to a nice hot chocolate and a book." He said reaching for the tartan blanket that hung on the back of the sofa wrapping it around you.

"Yes please," you reply, nodding meekly, "but only if you read to me."

"Of course." He said, standing "I'll be back in just a jiffy."

Before you knew it, he was back holding a steaming mug in one hand and a book in the other. You took the mug off of him whispering your thanks as he sat down beside you again. You took a slow sip feeling the chocolatey deliciousness warm you from the inside out. You rested your head against his shoulder so you could see while he read to you. He glanced down at you, a soft smile gracing his lips once more before opening the book.

"No one would have believed in the last years of the nineteenth century that this world was being watched keenly and closely by intelligences greater than man’s..." he read, his voice silky smooth and deep, and just loud enough for you to be able to hear. You closed your eyes as he read to you allowing your friend to soothe you with his words and take the emotions of the day away.

[lutawolf]

The Sign Commentary Review Ep 4

We start off with a bang, staring at a woman's scared face. Ah, she's being interrogated by Phaya. Okay, so the whole investigation is a bit triggering for me, so I'm watching, but my only commentary is if he sexually assaulted someone and then is being victimized himself. Well, I'm okay with that.

Yai and Sand! Yai is such a drama king and I adore him for it.

Oh, someone is still playing hard to get. And apparently that is not limited to just Tharn, but also Thong. The way Phaya grabs Tharn and drags him is cute.

This just looks yummy! Haha! The way Phaya is getting annoyed about Tharn talking about the case is hilarious considering how one tracked mind he used to be. Now he is just trying to go on a date with his baby and Tharn is drawing a line. Business only.

Who is this woman that Tharn has bumped into. She's wearing Naga jewelry.

"Your life is short. You were supposed to be dead since when you were young. But your parents gave you to the Abbot... To extend your life and try to change your destiny. That’s why you’re still alive today. But young man, I warn you. You must look out for those whom you’ve wronged in the past life. They are very near. They are coming to take your life."

I love how Tharn's face says, tell me shit I don't already know, lady. She then turns to warn Phaya who had been doing an amazing job of looking like he wasn't there. He's like, I just want to eat. Why won't anyone let me eat!

Woman disappeared. Just poof. But then we see her and she is clearly Naga.

Phaya are you really concerned about Tharn or are you trying to get in his room? Him thinking over what the woman said and it's matching the Abbott. And to be honest, it matches with what he wants, soooo...

Oh, Tharn has a vision of Phaya getting stabbed right when we hear the doorbell, which we all know is Phaya. His excuse is his bike isn't working. You're a cop dude and that's the best you could come up with. I hope you at least let granny know.

I love the way Phaya pushes the envelope and always causes Tharn to back up. These two are hilarious. I really enjoy the clearly macho humor thrown in. I enjoy shows where one love interest isn't macho, but this girl likes variety and is enjoying the different nuances to this show.

Poor confused Tharn. What wait, is this real? It has a dream like quality. Daaaaaaaaaaaaaamn, good dream Tharn. Go back to sleep! Go back to sleep and finish it!

Haha! The dream got you so rattle Tharn it has you covering up Phaya with a pillow!!! Damn, his picture cracked. Which means someone is secretly watching him. That's not creepy at all.

Yes, Tharn, let's go back over that dream. *Nods head in pleased mode.* Haha, the way Tharn jumped back when Phaya took off that towel. What I find hilarious is that Phaya wore the towel when he clearly had that on underneath. Tease much Phaya.

I think this smile says it all. He did not stick his finger in the yoke! That's it, throw him out! Yeah, stick it in your mouth like you're a sexy bitch, but Tharn and I are on the same page. Phaya's face clearly saying that this did not go according to his plan.

🤣🤣🤣 Poor Phaya was trying to hard to bring sexy back and gets this instead. 🤣🤣🤣 He probably woke to those pillows covering his crotch and came to the sensible conclusion that with a little push he could have Tharn. He's just not as smooth as our baby is, klutzy.

Phaya, just take the enjoyment out of it that you can. Tharn cleaning up the ketchup for you. Tharn's solution to this whole mess. "Just go to work naked!" I can absolutely get behind this. Like literally... hahaha. These two coconuts are hilarious.

This dumbass, oh look, the bike is fixed. Magic! 🤣🤣🤣 Yai, God, I love Yai. He's just asking some innocent questions that Tharn is trying to cover up. Which Phaya is not having. He has been walking perfectly fine, but when he hears Yai, he starts yanking at the pants and acting dramatic. Then, when Yai ask HIM an innocent question, he tells him the pants are Tharn's.

Which leads to this beautiful interaction.

OMG... Apparently the pants were really too small. Hahaha!

Wait, doesn't that girl look familiar. Isn't that the Naga lady?

Maybe not, maybe just similar looking. Either way, Phaya catches the significance of the conversation and goes to ask them abut the influencer. They've got a clue now!

Woot! I love all the strong females. Mayris is a hoot. Here comes Phaya sparing no feelings. I suspect Singh. With absolutely nothing to go by as yet.

He sees the future, though, not the past. Hmm. Tharn only had a seconds warning, now they are stuck and Phaya is running after the fire starter.

Tharn picks up Phaya getting stabbed. Gets them unstuck somehow with a chair. And is now going after Phaya.

Phaya, you are once again saved by Tharn. Why is Tharn playing doctor to Phaya instead of medical staff? I mean, he got hit in the head. I know he is hard-headed, but I'm just saying. Phaya being short-tempered and so confused about Tharn acting like he cares when he usually doesn't. Then Mayris reading the room and having fun with it. 🤣🤣🤣

Sneaky Phaya listening to the convo.

Tharn's face says it all.

Who is Dao... I'm sure this won't cause misunderstandings at all. Oh, I called it. Tharn is jelly! So jelly! Yai don't look happy either. You fucked up, Phaya. Hahaha! Of course, Yai is also going to take the opportunity to poke the sore spot.

Revenge has shown up in the face of Dr. Chalothon. OMG, that was so classic and yet still Beautiful. Chalothon asks Tharn if he is hungry and if he wants to eat before going home. Tharn looks right at Phaya as he says yes. Phaya has his priorities in order though and chases after them. But not smart enough to clear up the misunderstanding. Oh goody, when we incorrectly diagnose Schizophrenia without any data. Schizophrenia exists on a scale, the more extreme cases that refuse medication can be a danger whether to themselves or others depend on environmental factors. Also, Schizophrenia isn't as common as people think. On a global scale, it's 1 out of 300 people. 1 out 3 Schizophrenics can successfully get treated and recover enough to live independently. Ahh, there we go, he is using it to point fingers at Phaya.

Nobody told the good doctor this. You fell for that Phaya???

Aww, Tharn was so happy to see Phaya, but Phaya is not happy.

So much excitement about finding genitals. Oh, they might have found him. I'm not holding my breath yet.

Phaya looking at Cap while everyone else is looking at Tharn...

Ahhh, please let the scene in the preview not be a dream! Woot! Can't wait!

[dilanmoodboards]

Loving is Much Better Than Being Right

Paring: Bret Hart/Shawn Michaels

NSFW; +18; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: Bret is sick of Shawn's little games. After Shawn kisses Hunter live on Raw, he decides to do something about it.

Tags: PWP; Jelous!Bret Hart; Possessiveness; Top!Bret Hart; Bottom!Shawn Michaels; Light Angst; Praise Kink; Blow Job; Anal Fingering; Anal Sex

Notes: Aroace guy writing smut? It's more likely than you think. Also aparently I'm incapable of not writing angst into fics. English is not my first language and I'm dyslexic af, so feel free to correct anything. Comments are always welcome.

Word Count: 2,356

Bret Hart hated Shawn Michaels. He hated everything about the younger man, the way he strutted around everywhere as if he owned the place, the fact that he was getting a push from management, the way he and his friends used their influence backstage to get whatever they wanted, the way he danced around the ring and his shiny clothes full of mirrors and glitter. He was loud, obnoxious and seemed to find some sort of special pleasure in annoying Bret specifically. 

Deep down Bret always knew that a lot of his annoyance came due to his own feelings towards the blonde, feelings he would really like to ignore. 

Bret tried his best to completely ignore anything Shawn did that didn’t directly have to do with him, but tonight on Raw Shawn went too far for Bret’s liking. When he watched Michaels kiss Hemsley on the lips the moment Raw had gone back live, Bret felt that green little monster inside him rear its ugly head.  

Bret left the area around the gorilla and made his way to the locker rooms in the arena, his mind constantly replaying the kiss. Bret decided he was going to do something about it, he was going to teach Michaels a lesson. The Heartbreak Kid would learn not to play with fire.

Shawn was happy with how the show had gone, his match with Ken Shamrock had gone exactly how they planned, with all the spots being hit perfectly. He also got to piss off Vince when he kissed Hunter live, which got him into an impromptu meeting with Vince and Pat, that boiled down to Vinman chewing him out for ten minutes. It’s not like he really cared, but he really wanted to hit the showers and go back to the hotel. When he was finally able to leave the makeshift office, most people had already left. 

Once he got to the DX locker room he found a note from Hunter saying him and Jonnie had already left for the hotel. Shawn decided to shower in the arena to give the lovebirds some time for themselves. 

He was too focused rummaging through his bag for a towel and shower supplies to notice someone entering the room.

Bret watched as Shawn looked through his bag, his black and blue gear calling his attention to Shawn’s leg and butt, causing Bret to blush a little. He shook his head, if he was going to do this he needed to let go of his shy side. Bret cleared his throat to call the attention of the blonde, Shawn whipped around looking a little startled, but soon recovered and smiled at him.

“To what do I owe the honour of having the champ in my presence.” Shawn ended his little tirade with an exaggerated bow. Bret just rolled his eyes, Michaels truly had a way of pissing him off that should be commended.

 “Just came to see what Vince and Pat wanted with you, since our match is this week”. Bret answered. 

“Oh, it had nothing to do with that, Vinman was just pissed that I kissed Hunter during ‘family time’ or whatever it’s called.” Bret gave a hum, but did not make any effort to move. Shawn was getting increasingly more nervous, the last time he and the Hitman had been in a locker room alone they ended up having a fight, one that Bret had gotten the better of the blonde, and even took a little of himself with him. The bald spot in Shawn’s scalp hadn’t completely grown back yet.

After a while Bret finally said something: “That was a stupid stunt you pulled, this is a family show after all, we already have to deal with you and your little crew of degenerates running around with your stupid jokes and obscene gestures, ruining the show's reputation.”

Shawn laughed at that and started getting closer to Bret: “Me and my little crew of degenerates are the only thing keeping the Fed going and you know it very well, sorry that we don’t subscribe to your puritanical ways.”

Deep down Shawn knew that aggravating Hart wasn’t a good idea, but he couldn’t help it, ever since his relationship with Bret had turned sour he couldn’t help but want to make the older man hate him even more. If they weren’t friends, then he would make sure they would be the bitterest of enemies. That train of thought is what prompted him to say the next words.

“Why, I think you’re just jealous Hitman, but you don’t need to worry, Hunter is okay with sharing.” Shawn was now up in Bret’s personal space, their bodies almost touching. The Heartbreak Kid noticed something shift in the brunette's eyes, and prepared himself for a blow. But that never came. Instead Bret got even closer to him, effectively touching their bodies and trapping Shawn between him and the locker. 

“But I’m not.” Shawn didn’t have enough time to process what Bret had said before their lips were touching. Bret gave him enough wiggle room to allow him to escape in case he wanted to, but Shawn didn’t, kissing Bret with just as much vigour. As the kiss intensified, Bret grabbed his hair and pressed him against the locker, while Shawn started to slip Bret’s leather jacket off his shoulders. Years of pent up tension finally being released at that moment.

Once they separated to catch some air, Bret started to trail kisses along Shawn’s neck and collarbone, making the blonde whine. Bret noticed he was particularly sensitive in that area, something he filed in his mind for later, as he bit into the pulse point on Shaw’s neck. “Vince will kill you if you leave a mark” Shawn breathlessly said.

“Say it was Hunter or some ring rat. I’ll know it was me and that’s all that matters.” Shawn whined at Bret’s words, all the while the older man continued to kiss and bite almost every inch of flesh available to him. Shawn Michaels was loud, but Bret didn’t really care at the moment, anyone could walk in on them, but right now all he wanted was to draw out every single noise he could from the blonde. His ego swelling knowing he was the one that was making the Heartbreak Kid writhe and moan.

Shawn reached for Bret’s tank top, finally exposing the Hitman’s muscular and tanned chest for him to explore. When Hart finally let up on his marking of Shawn’s body, it was his turn to start kissing the expanse of Bret’s chest and stomach. Paying special attention to the older man's pecs, that always caught Shawn’s eyes. 

As Shawn went down kissing and licking the Hitman’s skin he finally reached what he was looking for. He nuzzled his face against Bret’s crotch while holding his strong thighs, and heard him let out a groan. Bret took him by the hair and they stared at each other for a moment. “Go on then, how do you and your friends say it? Suck it.” Bret said giving a slight thrust of his hips in imitation to the chopping motion DX would do after saying those words. Shawn rolled his eyes, but went for it anyway, he had waited very long for that and he didn’t need to be told twice.

He opened Bret’s jeans and fished out his dick from his underwear, the Hitman was already at full attention, with his precum dripping from the tip. Shawn licked it while staring at Bret from under his lashes, Hart let out a moan and closed his eyes. The Heartbreak kid continued to lick the entire length of Bret’s member, giving special attention to the tip.  Then without warning he swallowed his entire length without much difficulty, which earned him a moan from the man above him. After a while Shawn started bobbing his head and hollowing his cheeks. Bret then started thrusting into Shawn’s mouth, accidentally choking him from time to time.

Bret was getting closer by the second, he had heard the rumours about Shawn’s ability with his mouth, but until that moment he had thought they were just rumours, right now he wasn’t so sure. When he felt his orgasm approaching he pulled the blonde off of him. Shawn looked downright sinful, with his pupils blown so wide you couldn’t see his blue eyes and his lips swollen and darkened by a mix of saliva and precum, that dripped to his chin.

Hart pulled the younger man up by his hair and kissed him, tasting himself in Shawn’s tongue. Michaels let out a whine at that, and pulled Bret closer by the shoulders. They continued to kiss as Bret backed them both up against the bench, Shawn appeared to guess what Bret was getting at, because the moment the back of his knees touched the edge of the bench he stopped the kiss and laid down on his back.

“Do you have…” Bret began to ask, but Shawn answered before he could finish: “Inside the small pocket in my bag”. While Bret grabbed the lube from Shawn’s bag, Michaels worked on getting off of his tights.

Bret put a little of the lube on his fingers and caught one of Shawn’s thighs in order to expose his entrance at which point Shawn wrapped his other leg around Bret’s waist. He started to kiss Shawn once again before slowly inserting his index finger in. He started slow, making sure his finger could move without impediment before inserting a second one and scissoring them in order to open Shawn up. “Fuck Bret… just do it already”, Shawn said between moans trying to thrust back into Bret’s fingers while using his leg as leverage to pull Bret close, but Bret just tsked and continued at a slow and agonizing pace, holding Shawn’s hips in place: “Patience, I’m in charge here. Be good, unless you want me to stop”. Shawn whined at that, but stopped protesting.

 As he continued to stretch Shawn out, he found the little bundle of nerves inside him, which earned him a surprisingly high pitched moan from the younger man underneath him. Shawn once again tried pushing his hips into Bret’s finger, but he stopped moving them completely and held the blonde by the hips. “Come on, be a good boy and behave yourself.” Bret whispered directly into Shawn’s ears, earning a shiver from him. 

After a couple more minutes Bret finally decided that was enough teasing and pulled out his fingers. Shawn whined at the empty feeling, but soon was moaning as Bret slowly sank inside him. 

Bret almost came the moment he bottomed out inside the blonde, having to give himself some time to breath. “Please Bret, move” Shawn whined with tears starting to form in his eyes, he felt like he had never been more turned on in his life. Bret couldn’t deny him any longer and started setting a slow but hard pace that seemed to hit all the right places.

“That’s it. You take me so well.” Bret rasped in Shawn’s ear. He once again started to kiss his neck and collarbone, while also pepering smaller kisses on his lips and cheeks, all while maintaining his rhythm. Shawn was down right crying from pleasure now, as every single thrust from the Hitman seemed to hit his prostate.

Shawn was pulling him in even deeper using the leg that was wrapped around his hip as leverage, while also holding onto Bret’s strong back. Bret was certain he would have scratch marks the next day. The hitman picked up his pace, going faster and harder as he approached his climax.

“Please Bret, may I come, please, please, please.” Shawn asked, which surprised Bret. But he wasn’t going to deny him when he sounded so pretty begging. 

“Good boy. Cum for me.” as he said it, Hart reached between their bodies and stroked Shawn. 

Shawn arched his back as he moaned a string of inteligible curses mixed with Bret’s name, tensing up his entire body only to fall limp a second later. Bret also couldn’t hold on much longer after feeling the effects of Shawn’s orgasm from the inside. He allowed himself to let go, his rhythm becoming erratic as he reached his own climax, falling on top of the younger man.

After finally catching his breath Bret pulled out of Shawn and slowly lowered the blonde's leg as he stepped away from him. Shawn had one arm draped across his eyes as he breathed heavily.

“Damn Hitman, if I can’t fight on saturday it’s going to be your fault.” Bret laughed at that. Of course Shawn’s first response was to make a joke. “Come on let's get you dressed, I’ll give you a lift to the hotel.” Bret helped Shawn to sit on the bench and went inside the bathroom to get something to clean them with.

After they were both dressed they made their way to Bret's rental car in silence. But surprisingly the silence felt comfortable, they had never been good with words after all. 

“Can I sleep in your room tonight?” Shawn asked and Bret was almost certain he heard doubt in the Heartbreak Kid’s voice, as if he was scared to ask. “It’s just that I don’t know which room Hunter and Jonie are in and it’s late and I really…” Shawn was nervous and starting to ramble, Bret seemed to sense it and stopped him.

“Shawn you don’t need to ask, of course you can, whenever you need I’ll be here.” And Shawn wanted to believe him. But he knew the truth, Bret was leaving after Survivor Series, leaving just like Kevin, Scott and Sean had. But at least for this week he could pretend that everything was going to be okay.

That he wasn’t going to betray the one person he always wanted to be respected by, the person he had been madly in love with ever since he joined the Fed, the person he thought hated him until today.

He had a week to pretend everything was going to be alright.

[littlelesbinonny]

The Devil's Den

Chapter 37: In Which The Rabbit Hole Is Deeper Still

You can read this also on Ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46831621/chapters/117962293

Alcina leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes, savoring the slight burn of the blood-wine trickling down her throat.

"At this rate we're lucky we're not humans," Donna mused from the neighboring table, "we'd have blown through so much money in these vain military efforts we may be stricken down by our people."

"Have you paid much attention to the human world above recently?" Alcina asked flatly, "their idiocy knows no bounds for the make believe thing they call money that 'makes their world go round', we'd likely get away with much, much more if we felt the need."

Donna smirked, "well then I guess this will continue until we bare fruits from our labor?"

Alcina huffed heavily and shoved herself from the wall, rejoining her comrade at the table, "I'm growing as tired of this as you are," she slumped, in a very un-Alcina like fashion, "though I can't come to terms with giving up either. I don't know what else to do but to stay stationed and wait."

"I don't believe anyone else has any better ideas. Mother Miranda remains silent and I'm resigning from reaching out to her any longer. It's pointless. There's still no word of Angie. And Karl, your girls, Dmitri, Sylvia, and the myriad of other eyes and ears we have set loose remain... empty handed."

Donna's verbal vomit continued, and try as she might, Alcina wasn't much able to remain present for it. She was still very consumed with you and what had happened the other night. She still didn't quite feel right, or normal, or whatever she was supposed to feel. With everything going on, which was largely underwhelming, yet just as stressful and annoying, Alcina felt pulled in far too many directions than she liked and that her control was still dangling on a thin thread. She was beyond her threshold for anymore 'what if's', and preparing for an impending unknown, that she was ready to throw in the towel all together and let whatever happens, happen. 

And you. What would become of you?

"Uh... Alcina?"

Came the inevitable tug from her own thought vomit.

"Hmm?" she replied lazily.

Leaning harder on her elbow, Donna propped her chin in her palm and mused over her friends mental absence, "it's none of my business, and I made a promise with myself to never ask or insert myself, but... do you want to talk about what happened yesterday?"

Alcina didn't look at Donna right away, in fact she took another long swallow of her wine and adjusted her poor posture mindlessly.

Finally her icy grey eyes met her friends and she took a deep breath, "what makes you think something happened?" she deflected almost pitifully.

Donna scoffed, not lightly, "I've only seen you that ragged and disjunct maybe a handful of times in the long, long time I've known you. You were very much off when you came back last morning... very off. So, while it's still none of my business, you and your wellbeing are, therefor I can't help but wonder and have a little concern about you."

Their gaze remained fixed to each other and Alcina chose her next words very carefully; "she is... special, Donna. Very special. And no, not in the way I have viewed all my lovers. I'm beginning to fear..." her voice continued, betraying her inward caution, "that I may be in a bit over my head. At least with everything happening. I don't do well with fear... or uncertainty."

Her response was so calculated Donna nearly dared to roll her eyes, but at least Alcina had given her that much, though she knew she would likely not be getting much more.

"I know you dislike being open and vulnerable, even to me, but I hope you know you can always confide in me if you need someone to lean on. And I know telling you you can't always be the unbreakable pillar means nothing, but you really ca-"

"She's got powers of her own, Donna."

Donna became very still as she watched the deadly concern deep in Alcina's eyes urging to be released. That was not something she had expected to hear. Now, more things suddenly made a lot of sense.

"What kind?" she asked timidly.

"I don't know. But I was overcome by a blood-rage I've never experienced before yesterday because of her, her blood, her power, and she witnessed the whole thing."

Oh how the silence was painfully deafening.

"What are you going to do?" Donna asked.

Alcina shook her head shortly, "I haven't the faintest. I feel like I'm caught in a mangled net I can't escape from. My biggest fear, which I have no real concrete evidence for, says that she could be in danger. And, the more I go to her, the more I see her, the more I may risk her safety... and I... don't know how I could live with myself if..." her voice broke off with a crack as she stared down now at the table, reliving her painful past with a bitter bile in her throat.

She huffed, breaking that thought off, "simultaneously, I'm fighting with the guilt that I should be protecting her, keeping her by my side in case something were to ever happen, all the while battling the very infuriating reality none of this would be taking place if it weren't for me, doing exactly what I shouldn't have done," her eyes, now coated with the deep sea slate, locked on Donna once again, "she is my undoing as much as she is my long lost home of comfort and love. She's given me a breath of life I never thought I'd feel again, and I am riddled with guilt and shame for loving her, for not being all she deserves, for knowing with such likelihood our lives will never coexist the way she deserves them to. I... should not love her the way I do, I never should have loved her, but I cannot fathom letting her go now, as selfish and devastating my ignorance may be. Whatever powers she holds, whatever gifts hide in her soul, I feel them in me now. I feel her in every waking and sleeping moment. I am petrified, Donna. Petrified. I don't know how to save everyone."

Her last admission made Donna wince.

She reached for Alcina's hand and grasped it firmly, scooting closer to her at the table, "Alcina... you don't have to save everyone. No one is asking that of you -"

"It's my job, Donna! Am I not the Matriarch? Am I not the Figure Head of the underground?" she jerked her hand away and rose from the table with haste, "Is it not I that everyone looks to when it all goes wrong? Am I not the one who makes the final decisions, has the final say, and ultimately is held responsible for everything that goes on down here?" her eyes and features grew sharp as she continued, "I never wanted any of this, I never asked to be made the ruler of the tiring, undead, caught and lost in time world that we're forced to live in! But here I am, doing a better job than Mother Miranda or any of my predecessors ever did - so yes, dear Donna, it is my responsibility; it is my job; to save everyone from whatever inside and outside threats we face."

She'd paced at least nine times along the floor by now, rubbing her forehead with her plight of anger and remorse, huffing one last time before she stopped, dropped her head back to look at the ceiling and release the breath that had another pending slew of upset words.

"I'm sorry..." she offered softly, "my emotions have been burdensome. I feel more than I have in a long while. I'm not used to having no control."

Alcina found Donna at her side with a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sure it means little now," Donna also offered, "but I'm in your corner. Always have been. You won't weather this alone. And we will nail this bloody problem to the fucking cross, and things will get better. I'll fight tooth and nail to see it through."

She smiled genuinely down at the brunette and relaxed, "they say the quiet ones are those to really be wary of... I have no doubt in my mind you'll make good on your threat."

"When have I ever not?"

Alcina chuckled.

-

Currently, you were laying sprawled out in your bathtub; leg hanging over the side as you were half submerged and resting, recuperating from the exhausting morning you had spent 'working your magick'.

The baby fern Malka had given you was now on the kitchen counter in the largest bowl you owned since you'd overgrown it far too much and it burst from the tiny pot it had come in. You'd be needing to get some more soil and a proper planter as soon as possible. After you'd successfully grown it Fern Gully style, you'd grabbed the next item you could think of to manipulate; a candle.

This time you used your greyer magick. Melting it. Burning it. Reforming it. Lighting the wick with no flame. It was... excruciatingly exhilarating. And, utterly draining. Malka said practice was key. Little by little, you'd figure all of this out.

You'd also been up till around 3 in the morning reading over your books. The book on magick was as interesting as it was vague, cryptic, and a little oddly written. There was no doubt the books age just by the language and spelling. It covered mostly Celtic and Norse witchcraft; history, practices, etc., and gave a good index of symbols and deities. You'd not yet gotten to the chapters containing folklore of Fae, Fairies, Nymphs, Dryads, and the like, but were itching to get there.

You'd also gotten a few chapters into the vampire book when you woke. So much of the lore about the myths of them, oddly enough, were written as debunked as Alcina had told you forever ago upon your many nights of incessant questioning. You found it strange since this book was also quite old, and wondered if perhaps a vampire himself, or herself, didn't write it. The wives tales and superstitions around vampires lasted long into the 1900's, and this book easily predated that. It gave you a little bit of a warm feeling to think a vampire author had gotten some of their truth out there.

Secretly, you were hoping to find names, lineages of the vampire bloodlines, and see if you could track down this Mother Miranda that had wreaked havoc on Alcina, and certainly many others. But to your disappointment you'd found nothing. Yet. There were still many chapters to go.

The bath was helping you regain some energy but your fingertips were still uncomfortably tingly. 

You were finding your magick a very physical thing. Malka had introduced you to learning how to feel it out, locate it and harness it, and you found so many certain sensations went with each emotion and intention the more and more you focused.

Helping plants grow was a warm, soft sensation deep in your chest. The tingling in your fingers gentle but thick, the lightheadedness that came after was bright and intense. 

Burning down the candle came from below your lungs, deep in the pit of your core. It wasn't anger or rage, but pure intent to control and manipulate. The tingling from that was hard, firm, and a little steely. And you felt breathy afterward.

Lighting the candlewick was in the front of your face, like an Icy Hot mask on your cheeks and forehead. That tingling sensation was liquidy, silky, and prickly. It gave you jitters after and you felt startlingly awake.

As much as you wanted to revisit the darker of everything you'd done, you didn't dare without Malka present. Lighting your apartment complex on fire or something wasn't anything you wanted to risk.

It was now a little passed 2 PM when you were trying to read the book on magick while simultaneously making a plate of cheese and crackers to munch on on the kitchen counter. Unfortunately, as you were reskimming a paragraph you'd read twice, you slipped and sliced part of your finger with the cheese knife.

You reached for your paper towels, but in the process dripped three drops of blood on the way.

"Ah fuck," you blurted, quickly wrapping your finger and rushing to wipe off the little red droplets on your book.

But something caught your attention, vividly.

There where the text was as stark against the aged paper as you blood, hovering above and over said text was another text; glowing, violet, and in markings you did not recognize, but even odder still is that you could unmistakably read and understand it.

You blinked several times as the realization that you were clearly looking at archaic symbols, yet they translated in your brain as simply as regular English set in. Your heart sunk to the pit of your stomach as your eyes read on:

Of this point in your crooked journey, there are many things to find; the Courts are vast, but none too far -  be true of heart  and sharp of mind.

The truths you seek shan't escape you long; for the Courts call home those who've been gone - through troubles unnumbered, and hardships unmatched - slithy toves wicked games, both brutish and strong.

Darkness endures while you brave the new sea;  uncharted and rough may these deep waters be. Fear not the voyage for you'll be lead through the mist, on the backs of your lineage you'll be able to drift.

The path you've found, is but only the start.  Be swift and be brave,  keep faith of the heart. Come back once more when time gives you wear - as the Courts do not dabble, not here or to there, for Magick is not born of the weaklings to bear.

What... the... fuck did this mean?!

You slammed the book shut and rushed for the door.

~

"Malka!" you called as you burst your way through the shop entrance, "Malka! I need to show you something!"

"Aye aye aye," Malka replied from around an isle, "ketzeleh! I'm just closing shop, lock the front, will you? Come meet me behind the counter."

You did as instructed and hastily made your way to the counter, nearly beating Malka there.

"What has you so spun up?" she asked wiping her hands on her apron, "out with it."

Without another word, you gave her a wide-eyed look of 'please tell me I'm not insane', plopped the book down on the cluttered counter, and opened to the pages where your blood stains were.

"I - I bled on the book by accident - and this text, this floating, purple writing appeared and it was some weird riddle and -"

"Oooyyy vey, ketzeleh," Malka interrupted, gently pushing you out of the way grabbing for the book, her bright eyes staring hard at the pages, "how did you get this?" she asked as her hues shot up to you.

You were stumped, but now very concerned, "uh, Louis, I asked him for books of magick and he gave me this."

The older woman eyed you closely and held the book tighter, "do you know what this is?"

"Clearly not," you stated quickly, your eyes just as wide as ever.

"This is a Blood Arcane."

...

"A what?"

"This is a book of magick, not just a book about it. How this Louis got possession of it I would very much like to know. There are not many left in the world," Malka's voice dropped lower and she came closer to you, "a blood arcane is quite literally an enchanted book made from the old lines of witches and shamans to hide their secrets in plain sight. The red leather binding is a hint to those who knew the old code; this dark stain of red indicates that to unlock it's secrets you must spill your blood to reveal what it has to share with you. Inadvertently you did just that!"

You couldn't help your slacked jaw as Malka, now beaming with glee and intrigue, explained this to you like a school child.

"What did it say, what did it say to you?!"

"I, uh, it was, uhm, it was some kind of riddle? Or poem? I - I don't really remember al of it, it wasn't very forward."

Malka put the book back down on the counter and tapped her finger to her thin wrinkled lips, "I see... but you could read it?"

"Y-yeah, but it wasn't English, it was like -"

"Symbols, yes. Each book is filled with various teachings from various walks of magick, all set to a language special to each reader."

"If I bleed on it again will you read it with me?"

"No, no, it doesn't work like that ketzeleh," she said softly, smiling up at you, "the message you receive will not translate to me, nor would my blood translate for you to read, that's the true magick of these texts! So intricately designed and woven, they are so rare and truly special. This book... it was meant for you, and you were meant to find it. Keep it close. Don't tell anyone you have it, and don't let anyone see it, you understand?"

You nodded mutely and relaxed a little, leaning on the counter while looking back to the book, "it told me to come back after time had given me wear... whatever that means, that part I remember pretty well. What does that mean, though? And how could I read it and understand it even though it was just weird markings?"

Malka grinned, "it means you're not quite ready to read all of it's secrets, but don't be discouraged. Many witches and others gifted with magick cannot read these even after years and years of practice and guidance by elders. As for the understanding; when the book chooses to be read by the reader, it will come through as normally as you and I are speaking now, another impressive mystical trait. I would consider yourself very lucky dear, this is extraordinary!" she turned to face you again and placed her hands on your arms, admiring you with those twinkling eyes, "the more and more you learn about yourself, and the more you learn your magick, this book will bare itself to you in no time. The secrets you find here may have many of the answers you are searching for."

With a gentle sigh, you slumped your shoulders and returned her grin, "life just keeps getting weirder and weirder, Malka," you chuckled, "I'm starting to feel like Alice In Wonderland; next thing I know Leo will be grinning from ear to ear and telling me the Red and White Queen are in the kitchen ready to take me to my coronation to be Queen myself."

"Well, let me know if Sid Caesar shows up dressed as the Gryphon - he's so handsome!"

You laughed out loud and wrapped her up in your arms for a hug.

"If I end up battling the Jabberwocky and jump through the mirror, do you think this craziness will end?" you asked through the hug.

Malka hummed, "do you really want it to, ketzeleh?"

-

"You know if we had cellphones this wouldn't be nearly as difficult," Cassandra said from the other line of the old rotary phone, "we could just call you at any given time at any given place, then you wouldn't have to worry about where we are and the like -"

"You know mother is never going to agree to cell phones!" Dani's voice interrupted, "But we love you all the same, mother!"

"Oh for heavens sake, give me the phone - let - go!" Bela clearly struggled.

Alcina allowed herself a heavy blink and blew cigarette smoke from her red lips, arching back into her chair while tapping some ash into the tray.

"Hi mom, sorry about that."

"Don't worry, I'm sure this argument about cell phones will follow me to the very grave."

"That'll be a long, relentless endeavor."

Alcina chuckled at Bela, "it is your sisters we're talking about."

"Well, I - "

Bela was rudely interrupted once more and Cassandra's voice came chiming through; "Mother, you know the human city council is scared shitless of you, I know the coverage down here isn't ideal but I have no doubt in my mind you can convince them to install a tower -"

Cue Daniella and her boisterous agreement; "Yeah! But then we'll lose Cass entirely to the internet; she'll be on bookface and twatter and god forbid one of those dating sites! Easy pickings for blood though I guess."

"Oh shut up, Dani! You know it's called FACEBOOK and TWITTER, my god don't act like such a dunce."

"I simply love to annoy you!"

The unintelligible bickering went on on the other line until Bela finally reclaimed possession of the phone. Alcina remained pinching the bridge of her nose while taking steadying breaths. At least they were always entertaining.

"Oh my god... ANYWAY. That's about all we have to report at the moment. Though we have learned a great deal about the hidden passages and other tricky gems of the underground while we've been at it."

"Do nOT let Dani get any ideas, please?"

Bela laughed, "of course not, mother. Even Uncle Karl knows better. And you're doing alright?"

Alcina paused briefly, "of course, dragoste - right as rain. Missing my girls, I suppose," she smiled weakly.

"We miss you too. I think we'll be coming home soon, at least for a visit before another lead comes through."

"And I look forward to it. Give the battling baboons my love, and I shall see you all soon."

"I will. Love you, mom."

The click on the other end felt a little heavier than it needed to, but Alcina hung the receiver and took a thoughtful drag, staring blankly onto her desk, pondering if anything was ever going to happen on any end of the spectrum. She hated being in limbo more than she hated preparations for a war that was certain. Trusting Donna's instincts was easier than trusting her own at this point, and hers said this wasn't over, so at least there was something to lean on.

There were only a few more hours before sunset and Alcina was struggling internally about coming to see you. Oh how she wanted to. Escape from all this and pretend it didn't exist for a night, but then, the troubles with you and your newly exposed power made her uneasy.

She rose with a huff that hid none of her annoyance; tired of living and wandering aimlessly through her stupid thoughts of uncertainty was growing old and quickly.

Alcina returned to her bedroom and began to get dressed. 

Donning a white turtleneck, black jeans, her knee high boots, her trench coat, and last but not least; the gloves you'd given her. The smile on her face was warm and wistful, all the hesitations she's fought being shoved in the other direction. She loved you, dammit. She would make this work if it killed her.

As she was closing the gates to the Manor behind her, a shouting from up the street caught her attention. Her name was being called, urgently, by a voice she did not recognize.

Swiftly she started to rush towards the sound, and there trotting down the cobblestone towards her was a young vampire. Her face was twisted with worry and confusion.

"Lady Dimitrescu!"

"Yes, what is it?" she hastily replied.

"There's a Father in the tunnels! He's asking for you, but we wouldn't allow him any further - he's covered in blood - says someone was attacked in the church - he's demanding you come to him!"

Alcina's eyes went wild as she looked down upon the young lady, the shock of this news to her system sending her fight response into action.

"Take me to him!" she commanded with urgency.

The vampire took off and Alcina was hot on her heels.

By the time she reached the tunnel she could already hear the panicked, angry arguing.

"Let me pass! I demand you let me in! I demand to speak to the Lady Dimitrescu! He was just a boy! A boy! How could she let this happen!?"

Pushing her way passed the wall of vampires, Alcina broke through to see this father. He was indeed covered in blood and looking terribly frantic.

She was barely a pace from him when he saw her and lunged himself at her. He was a small, younger priest, one she remembered only vaguely, and posed her no real threat. Alcina barked for the other vampires to retreat and leave it be.

He slammed his fists into her chest and body, babbling and shouting about this boy, incoherent sobs and cries as he stained her white shirt with the still fresh blood all over him.

"I need you to calm down, father," Alcina soothed with a sternness, finally grabbing hold of him and rendering him immobile, "look at me, look at me!" she demanded, stifling his irregular sobs, "I cannot help you unless I know what has happened."

His eyes were blood shot and his face streaked with tears, "You! Your - y-your devils! Come with me and I will show you!" he shouted, ripping himself from her grasp and dodging back through from where he came.

[hongcherry]

Hi! I'm doing good, thank you for asking and for answering my question :D. I REALLY love your writing and I want to request a roommate!JungKook x roommate!reader enemies to lovers fic, when it's raining a lot, so the power goes out and the reader is scared of the dark, please. I hope you're having a good day/night, don't forget to take care of yourself ♡

Your Light || jjk

"Being stuck in the dark with your annoying roommate was not ideal, however, maybe it wasn't so bad in the end."

💡 Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (f)

💡 Rating/Genres: NC-17; Fluff, roommate au, enemies to lovers

💡 Warnings: Cursing, mc hates children (joking...), bantering, mentions of stereotypes of older people/grandmas, that's it?

💡 Word Count: 2.3k

💡 Author’s Note: Anon, I'm so touched that you like my writing so much! That's such a big and sweet compliment. I'll cherish it forever! Tbh, I've been feeling a lil insecure about it, so this really made me feel better. This prompt was also really adorable! I hope you enjoy it. I'm glad you're doing good 💖

part two

bts masterlist | main masterlist

What’s more annoying than telling your roommate to stop yelling at his screen at three in the morning?

Having to tell him for the fourth time.

If you knew Jungkook was an avid video gamer, you would never have agreed to room with him. But alas, his profile was too perfect to be true. A quiet guy who stayed holed up in his room? One that knew how to cook? Someone that could lift your heavy move-in boxes? Truly a winner.

If only that was the whole case.

Jungkook indeed stayed in his room, could cook, and could lift heavy items.

But he also made loud noises in the middle of the night, cooked at the weirdest times so you couldn’t leech off his food, and made you pay him anytime he helped you move items.

What a menace.

“If you don’t turn off that stupid screen at ten, I’m going to cut up all your cords,” you threatened, towel and spare clothes in your arms as you peeped your head in Jungkook’s room.

You were preparing to go to sleep early due to having stayed up late last night because of his stupid shooting game. It was also raining outside, which would aid in you falling asleep faster since you found the rain peaceful.

Jungkook didn’t reply and simply kept his focus on his screen. He wore a headset, fingers flying across the keyboard. Irritated at his lack of response, you stomped over to him and yanked off his headset.

To your utter annoyance, that didn’t even phase him.

“Jeon Jungkook, are you even listening?” you hissed.

Laughter came from somewhere in the room, but you two were the only one's home. It was not until you heard another voice that you knew where the sound was coming from.

“Is that your mom?” the voice laughed. “Tell her to go back to knitting a sweater for her cat.”

A gasp left your lips at the implication you were some old, wrinkly lady. You raised the headset to your face. You didn’t put it on, but you put your mouth near the microphone, so his “friends” could hear.

“How about you go eat your supper and go to bed, little vermin,” you angrily replied. “And I’ll have you know cats dressed in sweaters are cute!”

More laughter emitted from the headset.

“Supper?” another voice echoed. “I don’t think that’s his mom—more like his grandma.”

“Why you tiny piece of-”

“Give me the headset,” Jungkook finally acknowledged you. Not wanting to hear any more of the pests known as kids, you thrust the equipment in his open hand. You noticed his character had died and was waiting to respawn.

Jungkook slipped the headset back on and continued his game. “Relax guys. She’s just my roommate.”

Even though the device wasn’t near your ears, you could still hear their replies.

“Your grandma is your roommate?”

“She’s so uptight!”

“Seriously, tell her to calm down.”

Your hands clutched your belongings tighter. You told yourself to walk away—fighting with them was no use; however, you couldn’t stop yourself when you leaned down near Jungkook’s face to get near the mic once more.

“I hope your parents make you eat a pound of vegetables.”

“Go away,” Jungkook huffed and gave you a gentle shove.

“Tell me you’ll turn that off at ten.”

“Eleven,” he bargained, eyes glancing at you when his character died again. You must really be distracting him for him to have died twice within five minutes. Good. You hoped his ranking plummeted.

“Ten-thirty,” you said. “That or I grab my scissors.”

“Fine. Ten-thirty. Now leave before I get my own scissors.”

You scoffed, hand on your hip. “And do what with them? Make paper snowflakes?”

Jungkook smirked at you before turning back to his game. “Don’t think I don’t know where you hide that stupid stuffed chipmunk of yours.”

Your jaw dropped slightly as you stared at him incredulously.

“Ten-thirty,” you repeated firmly before walking out of his room and shutting the door. The walls weren’t thick, but at least it kept some noise out.

You started making your way to your bathroom; however, you couldn’t get rid of the paranoia that Jungkook really knew where Mr. BonBon was. You made a quick detour to relocate your favorite plushie. You had won it at an arcade on your thirtieth try. It held sentimental (monetary) value.

Once you were done, you trekked to your bathroom. Finally, you could end your day with a relaxing steamy shower. No doubt your shoulders were sore from all the stress you’ve endured lately. From tests to 3 a.m. hollering, you couldn’t wait to have some time to decompress.

The feel of the hot water pouring down on your body had your eyes closed momentarily. You could probably stay there for half an hour, but your goal tonight was to go to sleep early. You kept that in mind as you went through your shower routine. You were just rinsing the soap from your body when the lights suddenly went out.

Startled by the unexpected darkness, you fumbled to turn off the water. It must be Jungkook pranking you.

You hastily grabbed your towel and wrapped it around your body, so he couldn’t get a free show.

“Turn the lights back on, Jungkook!” you exclaimed.

When you didn’t get an answer, your brain started conjuring up fantasies. And not the ones where you find a charming partner and run off into the sunset. No, these thoughts consisted of a three-headed beast clawing its way from your drain, or a long-haired lady crawling from your mirror. While living with Jungkook was a pain in your rear, you much rather live with him for eternity than be captured by one of your “mind monsters.”

The haunting thoughts had you hastily scurrying from the shower, hair still dripping water and making a mess of your tiles. That was the least of your worries as an imaginary hand was reaching from the mirror that you passed on your way out of the bathroom.

You took two steps into your bedroom only to scream when you saw a dark figure standing a few feet from you. Your hand reached to your side to grab whatever was closest while the other clutched the towel around you. When you finally grabbed onto something, you flung it as hard as you could at the mysterious person.

They grunted, stumbling back a little and cursing under their breath.

“Calm down, it’s just me,” Jungkook grunted.

Your heart was still racing, but at least your shoulders eased.

“I could’ve killed you!” you screeched.

“I’d like to see you try,” he huffed. Even though you couldn’t see his face, you just knew that little shit was rolling his eyes.

As you were calming down, a loud thunder cracked outside. It had you jumping and shuffling closer to Jungkook unknowingly. That must be the reason for the power outage.

“I’m going to try to find a flashlight,” Jungkook spoke.

“What about your phone?” you wondered.

“Misplaced it, but I rather not use it right now anyway if I can’t charge it,” he said. He started to move, but you quickly stumbled closer so you could grab his wrist.

“Wait!” you exclaimed.

Jungkook paused in his steps to look at you. “What?”

“I- I can help you find it.”

The quiver in your voice grabbed Jungkook’s attention and he finally put some effort into reading your body language.

You were tensed, hand still holding onto him and your towel tightly. You were also strangely too close.

“You’re scared of the dark,” he stated, a small chuckle sounding at this realization.

“No! I’m j-just trying to help.”

Maybe you were scared. You hated the way your paranoia skyrocketed when you couldn’t see. There was something too eerie about having one of your five senses taken away from you.

“Are you crying?” he questioned, and you felt his hand brush against yours that held him.

“What? No. Why would you-”

“Something wet landed on me. Please don’t tell me that was your snot or something,” he replied, voice full of dread.

Your hair was still wet and probably leaving your floor slippery.

“I just came from the shower! It’s just water,” you groaned and slowly let go of his arm.

“O-oh.” He sounded startled.

Your eyes slowly began to adjust to the darkness as some of the moonlight crept in from the window through your curtain.

“Let me change, but don’t-” you sighed at how much you needed him. “-don’t leave me.”

You expected Jungkook to make a witty reply, but he simply nodded, an action you could faintly see.

“Only if you let me sit on your bed,” he bargained. Each time he would climb on your bed, you would always shoo him away—claiming he was spreading his germs all over your clean sheets.

“Fine,” you said. You stuck out your arms as you felt your way to your closet. You could see the outline of some closer objects, but you still felt uncomfortable not seeing far away.

“Ah, fuck,” Jungkook cursed before you heard thudding.

“What happened?” you asked quickly, heart beginning to race as your mind pictured Jungkook getting snatched by the monster under your bed.

“Nothing,” he groaned. “When did you put a bench by your bed?”

Your body relaxed again. He must have tripped over it and fallen. “A day ago.”

Once you found your closest, you quickly changed to whatever your hands touched. You had clothes in the bathroom, but there was no way you were risking getting grabbed by another monster in there.

“Done,” you announced and reached out again. Jungkook met you halfway, taking your hand in his. It was your first time holding his hand, and you didn’t like the way your body warmed at his touch.

“Just going to go to my room; I have a flashlight there,” he instructed. His voice didn’t hold the playfulness or irritation it usually did. It was softer. It was odd to hear, but not unpleasant.

You followed him slowly down the hall to his room, the path familiar to you but still making you anxious.

“Wait here and I’ll get it,” he instructed and started to pull away. However, the moment he took a step forward, you clutched him again.

“S-sorry,” you said quickly when he was tugged back. Jungkook paused, staring down at you with eyes you couldn’t read.

Taking in a steady breath, he repositioned your hands onto his hoodie.

“It’s okay. Hold on,” he said and moved. You continued to hold onto his clothes while he shuffled around in his closet.

“Aha!”

Suddenly light flooded the room. Jungkook’s gaze drifted from the flashlight to you. With the light, your worrisome expression could be seen clearly. Not to mention, just how close you were to Jungkook.

“You okay?” he asked.

His voice had you moving away quickly, your body heating from embarrassment.

“Just fine,” you answered. “How long do you think the electricity will be out?”

Jungkook shrugged. “It depends I guess. For now, we can use this so our phones can save power.”

“Okay,” you sighed.

“Nice outfit,” Jungkook mumbled, voice teasing like you were used to. It somehow made you feel better.

You glanced down, only now taking in your mismatched attire.

“You try getting dressed in the dark,” you grumbled. He smiled and glanced around.

“You can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said, gesturing.

You wanted to reject his invitation—make some sort of excuse to sleep in your own room; however, you knew you wouldn’t be okay sleeping alone. Before you could make your decision, Jungkook started to pull out an extra pillow and blanket from his closet. He tossed them onto the floor and then set the flashlight on the nightstand, light shining up at the ceiling. It had cast enough light to make you feel safer.

“If you don’t get in that bed, I’m going to keep playing until four,” he threatened light heartily when he saw you standing still.

“You already do that,” you argued but relented to his request.

“And I’ll continue doing that if you don’t-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you dismissed as you climbed into his bed. “I’m in.”

Jungkook’s lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile. “Good.”

A part of you wanted to offer to share his bed, however, you decided against it since you two weren’t that close. One night on the floor won’t hurt him anyway.

“Goodnight, Yn,” he mumbled from below.

You nestled in his covers, taking in the calming scent of them and letting your eyes close. “Goodnight, Jungkook.”

Luckily, the electricity was only out for a few hours. It came back on in the middle of the night. You had started to leave Jungkook’s room, but he insisted you stay in case the power went out again. Not liking that possibility, you agreed. It wasn’t that bad being with Jungkook anyway.

Later that week, you came home to a box on your bed. You didn’t order anything lately, so you weren’t sure what it was. However, upon closer inspection, you saw your name on it. Inside was a chipmunk-shaped night light. You’ve seen these in stores and online, usually advertised to children, but that didn’t matter. It was battery-operated, which meant even if the power went out, you could still use the device.

Your lips lifted in a smile while you inspected the cute light. You set it on your nightstand and then returned your attention to the box. You still weren’t sure who had gifted you this. Though, sure enough, you found a card laying at the bottom of the box, face down. Turning it over, it read:

In case I’m not here next time. JK

Your eyes lingered on the hand-written note. Partly in denial that Jungkook, your annoying, disobeying roommate, had gotten you something so considerate. Nevertheless, your view of him was slowly changing—for the better.

You checked your clock and realized Jungkook would be home from his class soon. As a thank you, you started to cook dinner. It wasn’t going to be the most elaborate meal he's had since he was the better chief, but you hoped it would convey the gratitude you had for his thoughtful present.

Maybe living with Jungkook wasn’t that bad after all.

A/N: Thank you again, anon! 🥰

Also if any of you knit sweaters for cats, you're a rockstar. Don't let anyone tell you differently 👿

For my "shy/silent" readers, I've created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

©️mimikookie // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[hookedsworks]

Edge(ING) Fitness Chapters I-IV

I never made a masterpost for this and now cannot find the original chapters omg. So here we are.

Word Count: 1287

Chapter I

Vessel waved his QR code in front of the scanner. It made a successful little beeping noise. The employee behind the counter glanced at the computer. 

"Oh, hold on a second. Your first time here? I need to take your picture for your account," the short brunette smiled at him from behind the desk. 

"Uh, yeah, for sure," Vessel muttered, annoyed that he couldn't just walk in. The man behind the counter smiled again. 

"Just right here. The camera is above that red dot on the back of my monitor. You ready?" 

"Uh huh," Vessel grunted in affirmation, making no effort to smile. The guy's smile dropped a bit, and Vessel tried to ignore that he felt bad. "Take it," he nodded at the camera. 

"Right, okay. One, two, three," the computer made a little shutter noise. "Model perfect," the guy laughed at his own joke. "I'm II, if you need anything. Go on in, you're all set," Be civil. 

"Thanks, II," 

Chapter II

"Hey, Ives, did you see that new guy?" the cute personal trainer turned when II started talking. His eyes flashed around the gym before locking on the newcomer. 

"That guy?" II turned in the direction that Ivy had nodded in, catching sight of the exact guy he was referencing. He was wearing a sweatshirt with a band written across it, one called Alpha Wolf. II had heard of them before, but had never really listened. I should check them out. 

"Yeah, over by the mirrors," the man in question, Vessel, was testing some of their heavier free weights. "He's kind of cute, right?" 

"Little tall for you, isn't he, II?" Ivy flashed his gorgeous, straight teeth at II. II gave him an annoyed look, but let his gaze wander back to the grumpy guy. "Oh, I'm sorry, okay? Don't be like that," Ivy came up next to II, leaning on the counter with him. 

"His name is Vessel," II informed his friend. Ivy smiled. Together, they watched Vessel for a few minutes. He had two 25kg dumbbells next to a bench. After Vessel put the bench in a reclined sitting position, he ripped his sweatshirt off. II kind of...forgot how to breathe. Vessel had a hell of a body hidden under that sweatshirt. He was long, and lean, and in the tightest black compression shirt II had ever seen in his life. Vessel went to sit, and II pretended to be doing something on the computer so that Vessel wouldn't know he had been watching. Ivy had, much less subtly, just turned entirely around, facing the other wall. Ivy checked his watch. 

"Well, it's about that time. I've got a client in five, which I think means you can go get a closer look. The paper towel stations need checking, or something," Ivy was always doing that, trying to get II to hook up with every person who caught his eye. 

"Yeah, the paper towels, that's right," II went in the back to get the trolley and began his daily circle of the gym. Vessel was doing dumbbell chest presses. II froze for a moment, pretending to change a paper towel roll. Are those... are his nipples pierced? 

Chapter III 

III’s feet pounded the pavement. His warm up had gone well, but he was worried about jumping into a circuit. He kept an eye on the clouds above, dark and heavy with rain. His music was interrupted. New text from Vessel. Would you like for me to read it? 

“I guess,” though odds were, he was probably yelling at III for starting a run when it was this close to raining out. Command not recognized. New text message fro- “Yes! Yes, yes. Read it,” Are you seriously running right now? Would you like to respond? “Call Vessel,” Calling “Mom”. “What! No! Stop. End call!” III ripped his phone out, jabbing the red end call button. The whole point of the tech was to not have to do this while running, but technology was not on III’s side today. Neither was the weather. A fat raindrop hit him right on his forehead. 

“You’re not really running, are you?” 

“Yes, Ves, I am. I’m committed to this marathon,” III could hear Vessel roll his eyes. 

“You’ve been committed to every single marathon since you turned sixteen, III. It’s going to rain bad today. It is already here. Can I convince you to come to the gym with me?” 

“Ugh, Vessel, I hate being caged in a building. I have to be free,” 

“III. Please. I don’t want you to get sick,” III tipped his head back and groaned. He felt himself give in before he even opened his mouth. 

“FINE! Ugh. Fine. JUST for today,” III could already feel the walls. Running on a treadmill made him feel like a hamster. 

“I joined a new gym, by the way. Heavier weights. I maxed out the free weights at the old one,” Vessel bragged. He had started a specific regime and was seeing incredible improvements, even III could see it. 

“Text me the address and I’ll meet you there,” 

Chapter IV

Ivy was at the desk, watching a guy pacing out front. Ivy didn’t remember ever seeing him around before, and he hadn’t made an attempt to come in. He was just outside… walking. Almost jogging, actually. A black sedan slid past him and he began to follow it. 

“Hey, man, what are you looking at?” II was beside him suddenly, scaring him. 

“You need to wear a bell or something,” 

“Don’t you have a class to teach?” II ignored Ivy’s comment about the bell. Ivy glanced at his watch, seeing that it was half past. He did indeed have a class to teach. 

“Shit. Yeah. But it’s 7:30 yoga, so it’s all older women, and they’re usually late. Hopefully they’re just setting their spaces up in there,” but Ivy paused, because he caught sight of the pacer marching toward the doors. He had that guy that II had been checking out the other day with him. Ivy could still recall II racing up to him and hissing “he has pierced nipples, Ivy!” while he raced by to solve an issue with someone else. “Hey, II, isn’t that your guy?” II glanced out the door, turned away and then turned back in a nearly comic double take. 

“Uh, no, he’s not my anything, Ivy. And his name is Vessel,” II hissed, as the two came through the doors. The smell of rain followed. “Hi, Vessel!” II brightened up when speaking to him. 

“II,” Vessel did one of those bro nods. Ivy wasn’t really paying attention. He was staring into the clearest, lightest, bluest eyes he had ever seen in his life. The mouth under those eyes was moving. 

“Vessel! You never told me you switched to a gym staffed by models,” and by god, how had Ivy missed that mouth. It was under a well groomed pale blond mustache, stretched wide by his grin. His tongue flicked out, just barely licking at his bottom lip. He winked at Ivy. Ivy’s heart stuttered and his stomach flipped on itself. “I’m III,” the guy, III, held his hand out. Ivy automatically grasped it and shook. 

“Ivy,” he barely exhaled his own name. The hand against his was smooth, firm, with softened calluses rubbing against his own. Heat rose in his cheeks so fast he thought he might pass out. “I…I have to go teach a class now,” Ivy was so embarrassed, he had never been caught on the backfoot. He was always the one flirting, never the one flustered, until now. 

[karmas-chameleon]

Beach date! (Note: actual date may feature little to no beach activities)

I had been looking forward to our beach trip all week. Manfred reluctantly invited a couple of his acquaintances (or friends, or nemeses, it was never clear to me which) and on Saturday morning, we headed out to meet them. It was only on the drive there that I finally started having doubts.

I looked over at Manfred, in his comfortable shirt and sandals along with a pair of swim trunks I'd never seen before. I wore a two piece swimsuit that had been used just as much since I'd moved to LA. Part of it was being busy with work, another part was my own reclusiveness. But there was another important reason why I'd never gone to the beach near my new home.

“So…is this a bad time to tell you I can't swim?” I asked.

“Hmm?” He looked at me with a raised brow.

“I mean, I know how to. Theoretically. But I'm not good at it, and I'm really weak, so I usually just sink after a few seconds.”

“I would say that qualifies as not being able to swim, Miss Martin.” An awkward moment of silence passed between us, and I looked out the window away from him. “...Have you ever gone to the beach before? Since you were the one to suggest it, I'd assumed-”

“Yeah, I've been to the beach. Other beaches, not this one, I mean. And I was a kid for most of those trips. Couldn't swim then, either.” I glanced back to see a puzzled expression. “I'd usually stay out of the water if I could help it, and walk around looking for pretty seashells. Sometimes I'd just dig a really big hole and keep going until I hit water. That, um…doesn't sound very fun when I say it out loud now, but it was to kid me. Sorta.”

“Sort of?”

“Well-” I looked back out the window at a view that was rapidly becoming more beach-like, “I also remember a lot of bad stuff about going to the beach, now that I think about it. Like putting on all the sunscreen I could, but still getting sunburned anyway. And sand just getting everywhere and being annoying.”

And being alone while everyone else was having fun together, either in the water or out of it. But I didn't say that, not aloud. I simply sighed quietly as my hopes for the day slowly slid downhill.

“...Y'know, maybe I just like the idea of going to the beach, and not…not the actual thing. It always seemed like a nice place to go, in my head at least.”

“Then we'll simply have to make it so. Your ideal of a perfect beach trip, that is. One with more shade, no water, and as little sand as possible.”

“That doesn't sound very beachy.” I looked down at Manfred's swim trunks. “Besides, don't you want to do some swimming?”

“I only wore these because I assumed you wanted to swim. Which begs the question: why did you dress for something you're incapable of?”

“Uh,” I glanced down at my top, “...just ‘cause I thought you'd want to go in the water, I guess. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize, it's no trouble to me. Besides, you look…rather nice, in that.” It was his turn to look out the window in embarrassment, then. I smiled.

“You look nice too.”

“Oh, please. You're only saying that to be polite.”

“No, no! I don't get to see your bare legs shown off everyday, y'know. They look good. Very, uh…hairy?”

I earned a snort of laughter from Manfred, and he looked back to me with a smirk. “Your compliments could use a bit more elegance, Miss Martin. But I do appreciate the intent.”

The car came to a stop just a minute later, and we exited, with me carrying a bag of assorted supplies and Manfred holding our towels. The beach sprawled out before us, with sand cleaner and water far bluer than I'd ever seen in Texas. It certainly appeared like the ideal spot I'd always pictured in my mind.

We walked along the concrete to a little stairway that led down to the sand. Manfred still held his cane, equipped with a rubbery tip to keep it usable even on the beach. But I would have to wait to see it in action, as I stopped us both just before the steps.

“Hey Manfred, you mind helping me with my sunscreen real quick?” 

“We already put it on at home. I distinctly remember you ensuring every inch of me was covered. Surely you don't need to reapply just yet?”

“I put it on everywhere I could reach, yeah,” I pulled a lotion bottle from my bag and offered it. “But I forgot my back. And I can't reach there. Not well, at least.”

“Very well. Turn around.”

He exchanged the towels for sunscreen and I turned, sweeping my hair out of the way and holding it in one hand. I felt his hand touch just behind my shoulder, cool with lotion, and had to contain the powerful urge to squirm. He continued, from one shoulder to the other, and slowly down my back. Then, he stopped abruptly, as we both heard a familiar cry.

“Manny!” a boisterous voice called.

I craned my neck to see a shirtless Damon Gant jogging toward us, with another large figure trailing behind him. Manfred regarded them silently for only a moment before returning to rubbing in sunscreen. When he finished, I turned back around to see Gant in front of me and Detective Gumshoe still standing slightly behind him.

“Hi!” I said with a wave.

“So good to see you, Manny’s…assistant,” Gant winked. “You know, when he invited me here, I was stunned. And overjoyed, of course! But I think I know who I should really thank, hmm?”

“Oh, well, I just figured it'd be more fun with more people.” I smiled nervously. “The more the merrier, r-right?”

“Quite right!” Gant clapped his hands together with a wide grin.

I looked at Manfred, who glared at the chief of police before switching to an easier target. “You do know not to breathe a word of this to anyone else, yes?” he growled at Gumshoe. “I know Damon can keep his mouth shut when he has to, but I can't assume the same of you.”

“Y-yes sir! I was never here, sir!” The detective gave a salute, which quickly turned into him nervously scratching his head.

“Not to worry, Manny, I've already briefed him on this little mission. Nobody's going to hear a thing about any sort of relationship you have - or about how you've softened up enough to invite friends to the beach.”

“Friends?” Manfred scowled at Gant. “You're both acquaintances at best.”

“That's the spirit!” He leaned in and lowered his voice to a mock-whisper. “Excellent cover story.”

I hoped Manfred wouldn't look at me and see the grin that spread across my face. Gant seemed to revel in his coworker’s annoyance purely for his own personal amusement, but I got some enjoyment out of it as well - mainly because Manfred looked adorable when he was flustered.

After I'd managed to contain my smile, I hooked my arm around his. “C’mon, Mann- er, Manfred, let's go down to the beach,” I said, catching myself just an instant before using his pet name in front of the one who inspired it. I liked seeing him just a bit embarrassed, but I feared that would be more than a little too far.

We headed down the stairs together before splitting up, with Gant running off into the water and Gumshoe wandering in a similar direction. Meanwhile, Manfred and I walked along the sand, weaving our way between other visitors to the beach.

He turned back to me after only a short distance. “I believe I've come up with a solution for most of your beach woes, Miss Martin. Find an ideal spot for us and spread out the towels. There are beach umbrellas for rent not far from here, I'll fetch one and bring it back. We'll have a shady, somewhat sand-free place to relax in no time.”

“Okay!” I nodded and looked around me for the best patch of sand as Manfred left. It didn't take too long for me to select a spot as far from other people as possible, with a small, flat enough area to lay down. 

As I set down my bag and started laying out the towels, a familiar figure approached me.

“Hey, pal,” a somewhat dejected-looking Gumshoe waved.

“Oh, hey, uh…Mr. Gumshoe.” 

He smiled, and chuckled at me. “Heh, ‘Mr. Gumshoe', huh? Didn't expect to hear that from his, erm, assistant.”

I wasn't sure which puzzled me more: the fact that he was surprised to hear me call him by his actual name, or that he wanted to talk to me in the first place. “So, how do you like the beach? Do you go swimming a lot? I mean, I can't, really, but it sounds fun.”

“Ah, I could. Shouldn't right now, though, my stomach’s all tied in knots. That's why they tell you not to go in the water after you eat, right? Can't swim with a stomach cramp.”

“I'm…pretty sure that's a myth. But, um, do you need anything? For your stomach?”

“Thanks, pal, but I don't think there's anything you can do.” He looked out at the ocean and his forlorn frown returned. “I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. And they both have control over my salary, heh.”

He turned back with a smile that even I could tell was forced. “Hey, speaking of that, how're you liking the old desk? Hope she's treating you well.”

“The old- oh!” I'd nearly forgotten about Manfred taking the detective’s desk just a day after I'd started working for him. “It's been pretty nice, I guess. Fits my computer and everything. Did you get a good replacement for it? Er…her?”

“Replacement?” Gumshoe scratched at his head. “‘Fraid that's not in the budget for me. Or in my salary. Definitely not my salary.”

“Don't tell me you've actually been working this whole time without a desk. Do you at least have a chair?”

“Erm…” He looked away nervously, then back up again. His expression turned to one of horror - but not because of me.

“Fraternizing with Los Angeles’ least competent detective, are we, Miss Martin?”

I turned around to see Manfred returning with an umbrella, and frowned at him. “Mr. Gumshoe was just telling me he still doesn't have a desk at work. Can you help him with that?”

I heard a groan from said detective, but chose to ignore it. Manfred set the umbrella down when he reached us, and shot a quick glare at the man who stood behind me - or cowered, possibly.

“Are you asking if I'm capable of helping, or if I intend to?”

“Well, I know you can.”

“And why should I?” Manfred crossed his arms. “Have I not complained about his failures enough for you to understand?”

“He might do better work if he has a comfy place to sit, y'know. And a good salary, too. I know I wouldn't be at my best if I was always worrying about having enough money for rent.”

“And food,” Gumshoe muttered.

“Quiet, you.”

I shot my best pleading expression at Manfred, looking deep into his eyes. There was a time once, not terribly long ago, when he'd have won that staring contest hands down. But that was prosecutor Manfred staring down his assistant, not beach vacation Manfred being pouted at by his girlfriend.

He averted his eyes, and grumbled, “Fine. You'll get your desk, and your bonus, raise- whatever it is you're after. And I'll double it if you leave us alone right this second.”

“Y-y-yessir!” Gumshoe shouted, and I turned to see him sprinting away, already halfway to the water.

“Um…sorry about that,” I said, turning back toward Manfred and kneeling down to fix the towels. “I just thought it'd be nice to help that detective out a bit. Especially since I already invited him to the beach and all.”

“I'm aware that it's the nice thing to do. You were the one to suggest it, after all.” Manfred started working on the umbrella beside me, anchoring it in the sand. “But I'm not sure it's wise. That man seems to take every opportunity he can find to question my judgment at crime scenes, in full view of the police, no less. And it's a full-time job just trying to keep him on topic on the witness stand. ‘Keep it short, and don't insert your own irrelevant opinions’ - I've told him that countless times, but does he ever listen? Of course not.”

“Well, maybe he'll listen a bit better now. You never know what a little kindness can get you.” I leaned over, giving him a quick kiss and a smile. “It got me a boyfriend, didn't it?”

“Indeed. Though that's not exactly what I'm looking for, with that fool. I'd prefer not to think of such a thing.”

“Oh, you know what I mean,” I nudged his arm playfully. “There's more than one way to get people to work with you. You don't just have to scare them into doing what you want.”

Manfred didn't reply to that, and I let the subject drop. It was a conversation better continued another time, perhaps with the aid of a trained therapist.

When the umbrella was in place, the towels nearly fit in the shade, and my body nearly fit on my towel. If I lay down flat, with my body stretched out, my legs would end up both sandy and possibly sunburnt. But when I curled up with Manfred, who didn't seem to mind sand nor sun, I was perfectly cozy - my head on his chest and my legs tangled in his, draped more over my boyfriend than over my towel.

“So, is this closer to your ideal beach trip than digging holes?” Manfred whispered to me.

“It feels like being in bed. But warmer, and more windy.” I nuzzled my cheek against him, and closed my eyes. “It's perfect.”

Though as we relaxed in the shade, and the noise of the other beachgoers began to fade from my sleepy mind, I doubted I'd have given a different answer even if I was digging holes in the sand. Just as long as I was doing it with him. No amount of sand or saltwater getting places they didn't belong could've possibly made this a bad day. 

My ideal beach was one that had Manfred on it. That was all that mattered.

I felt my leg twitch, the telltale sign of impending sleep. Every time I felt my body start twitching, I knew I wasn't long for that state of consciousness. The world slipped away from me - the noise, the wind, the warmth.

It returned, briefly, faintly, with a voice.

“Manny-”

“Hush. You'll wake her.”

“Ahh.” A quieter voice then, but still audible. “I'm guessing the lunch we'd planned is off, then?”

“You two can go, if you'd like. I'm not moving an inch.”

“Can't say I blame you.”

It began to fade out once more. I couldn't understand exactly what I heard last - something about a sunburn. Then, I felt a brief movement below my legs, and then nothing.

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary2

today we did errands and i did hate it like i thought. i don't know why i hate it so much. like okay hate it's too strong a way to put it but it wigs me out totally.

i guess probably, i hate going outside lately, and partly being around my gf and her mom puts me on edge, they're both anxious people who dawdle or i feel like they dawdle and i just want to go back home because it's hot out because we live in the dumbest desert ever and even if they're both having a good time basically it's made up of 100 mini arguments that no one has any stake in until one of the decides that something was really actually transgressed and that makes me feel catty and irritable but also i'm stupid and lazy, or i don't know. i feel kind of like i have to do most of the important stuff, but what is that really, that's not true, i just watch the laundry in the laundromat, i sit and listen to orchid, i feel people stare at me and then i watch my girlfriend fold the laundry because she doesn't like/need my help, and then we go to the store and she wanders around, she used to be a lot worse, and she also randomly decides rather than having us go look for something in the direction we're going maybe she should ask her mom to do that, and then get disappointed with what her mom brings her, so we go look. i don't know. it's annoying, is all, and i feel bad about that because it's so dumb to be annoyed, it should be funny it feels like but it makes me a little miserable to be dragged around places that make me feel totally dirty to be inside of, like, have you looked at the floors of every super market/market/wherever you buy your vegetables like god it's so gross and i'm transfixed by that because i'm like, also that gross too basically, right.

or i think that way a little. otherwise today was fine except for i came home and went crazy. when i go crazy i just say the same thing over and over, and i don't know why, it's not mean stuff it's just all stupid, i feel a clot in my throat talking about it/typing it, because like, what is it, i'm always convinced i know exactly what i'm saying when i'm saying it, but i can hardly remember, and like, there's almost no intention, i just start doing things and i can't help it, i just do it. when i'm super stressed i guess i just become way stupid.

definitely.

n e wayzzz, yesterday i think i fucked up a number, it wasn't 22 i stopped crying right, it was earlier, like, 21-20-ish probably. i don't know why correcting that feels so important. it makes me look way more pathetic, which is fine, i've made peace with that. everything that's ever happened to me means way too much for way too long. i don't think i hold grudges, at least.

last night i saw this print in the towel from last time i wore makeup, it happens every time so next time, which will be soon cuz i'll put makeup on when i go see melt banana cuz i want to serve cunt i guess, anyways it was my eyes closed drawn w/ mascara, when i washed my face and i couldn't get all the stuff off my face because i'm really lazy with the micellar pads or actually it's mostly because i like waking up and seeing some on my face still. i think it's actually when eyeliner looks best on me.

that's like, true.

tomorrow is gonna be weird because i have to meet with someone for semi-professional reasons after not having a job forever because i'm honestly terrible at being employed and it makes wanna die, but this is me probably getting paid to make music for someone's movie, and he likes a demo i did for him so that's #cool right. it's scary because i don't know what he'll say and how much he'll want from me, and i'm scared about not being perfect at it, and i'm scared it'll sap my ability to make what i normally make anyways but that fear is really stupid. if anything i think it'd make me want to go the other direction more, right.

i did work on music today but no vox, i just took some drums off grid on a song, which is fun, or not really but it's rewarding to go through and think about how another human would be dealing with a song/interpreting it in a live way almost, but the hits being so clearly from a drum machine of some kind, it makes it a little uncanny.

tomorrow i need to wake up early, so i can warm up and do some vocals somewhere, probably work on the song that i want to be another single a little bit, some parts need a little improvement i feel like. i didn't listen to the songs i did yesterday yet, too freaked out i guess.

today i ate, like, i forgot what i started with. i woke up in pain, my stomach was a gravity pit and it made getting up hard, i was just falling into myself and my body was distantly sore, i woke up, and i took too long in the shower so my gf's mom got here while i was drying my hair which probably is part of what put me in a stressed out place today already. anyways i think the first thing i ate after 2-3 hours of being awake was chicken tenders. i'm not saying where from because it makes me feel sort of ridiculous i guess, i dunno why. i should just say because it is ridiculous and it's really funny, for some reason shaq owns some kind of chicken chain, and we ate it today. it's fine, i like the french fries, they're crazy thin and i think i can still taste the salt at the back of my throat. we ate in the car because laundry had to happen. i didn't have water so i was dying a little bit. i have water now which is nice. uhhhhhhhhhhhh

trying to think, the next time i ate was at home, i ate a cinnamon roll that i think my girlfriend wanted but also doesn't care about too much and a blueberry muffin. i keep saying i'm going to eat the other one because it makes me look psycho, which is funny i think. what else.

in the shower, today, i thought about living with my aunt a lot, i hope my cousin who moved out around the same time i was moving out of there is well, i hope my cousin who moved in as i moved in there and is presumably still there, there being vague because maybe my aunt moved and took her kid with her, is doing better than he was, but i don't know. i sort of developed the fear that he maybe did something awful, i don't know why he would though.

makes me think about my other cousins, on my dad's side. they both turned out to have awful lives, they were normal for a while until they were adults, and switches came on in their heads maybe, around the same time each were arrested for domestic violence, both in jail. i remember vividly the time one picked up their cat and threw her in the pool and we three watched her run out, long hair all wet, she looked like a rat from a sewer. they were in highschool, i was way younger. another time, one showed me a glass bluebird, translucent, he talked about how it represented jesus, and then in that same stretch of time, i played ocarina of time on their n64.

i also ate some pretzel rods, i forgot, they were from the 99 cent store, i tried to get some in the smiths but my gf said: i got those exact ones in the 99 cent store. and then her mom showed up and she told that to her mom twice because her mom was not listening at all the first time.

friday we are seeing melt banana which i am excited about but i am not excited about hanging out downtown potentially cuz it's so fucking windy in the summer i don't want to have my bangs get fucked up in the wind that's so annoyinggg and also last time we were there i became inconsolable because i tried a dress on and it didn't fit and i was unhappy for at least 2 days. i think i sound really unfun in these posts. whatever.

[averagelonelypotato]

tbh i actually never paid much attention to Hitsugi (and ended up sort of completely forgetting about him), so i'm always curious when i see your posts about him and his relationships with Oboro and Utsuro, so i'm wondering about your Hitsugi hcs? what they are/where you get them

hi bestie!!

tbh I never paid attention to Hitsugi either, I either ignored him in the final or didn't pay attention to him at all but then I decided that i'm going to make up stuff about him because I am weird✨

Honestly I'm pretty sure the only reason I remembered he existed was because he was mentioned in a few fics I read!!

in one of them oboro beat him up in training after he annoyed him

and in another one of them (i need to reread the series, the oboro works in a convenience store one) I think it was implied that oboro and him were friends

honestly I just made up stuff about him to add to my own delusions about the naraku since we don't really have any real inside information on them and he's giving loser energy

What we do know about him from the series is that:

he is very loyal to Utsuro, the final is where we see his opinion on Utsuro's immortality dilemma after he experiences it for himself. Because he destroyed the altana heart the others were protecting because he knew it would aid utsuro in his plan for finally dying. I think that was interesting because he decided to destroy it instead of retrieving it for the tendoshu because he now understood a some of utsuro's pain after receiving altana blood and being unable to die himself while having to stay alive as his flesh was rotting and his limbs fell off. So he wanted to free Utsuro of immortality by destroying the heart

He is the second feather (tbh I don't remember if he was the first or second, I don't even remember which one oboro was. But we all know Nobume was the third feather)

He tried to kill sadaharu (we do not stan him for that :/)

he became chief after Oboro died 🥺 (i personally like to think that he became chief because utsuro didn't want to do it, and because there was no one left)

I think his name is interesting because it means coffin (who tf is naming these people in the naraku)

Anyway in terms of his relationship with others :

With Utsuro we know that he is as loyal and devoted to him as any other member in the naraku, and that he must be skilled and powerful to be named on of the three feathers.

But with Oboro, they never had any interactions or were referenced to each other so I just made up stuff about him in terms of his relationship with oboro and I came up with two versions of it

Oboro and Hitsugi ✨crack version✨:

oboro and hitsugi are the same age and grew alongside each other in the naraku

Hitsugi simps for oboro

he likes him

he saw the quiet kid in corner of the classroom and befriended him even though oboro did not say more than a full sentence to him

when he met kid oboro secretly training and offered to help him kid hitsugi was happy because he made a friend and was very saddened when Oboro disappeared one day

but was happy when he met oboro again two years later after Oboro painfully beat his ass in training

he thought that him and oboro training, doing missions and becoming apart of the three feathers together meant that Oboro likes him back as much as hitsugi likes him

hitsugi is very much a simp for oboro, he always brings oboro a towel and water after oboro is done training, he always offers to train and spar with oboro because they are both strong and he likes spending time with oboro. He also gives oboro food and offers to help him with his duties because he cares about him and doesn't like seeing him overworked and stressed

hitsugi would do anything for oboro tbh, even if it meant betraying Utsuro, he would do it in a heartbeat because in hitsugi's opinion Oboro is the chief of the naraku who earned his position and improved the organization, he is loyal to oboro

hitsugi would gift oboro new fancy weapons and poisons he finds because when he looked at it, he decided to buy it for oboro because he knew oboro would like it or was interested in it

when utsuro returned at the end of the joui war hitsugi did not like him at all simply because oboro changed in the man's presence and hitsugi thought utsuro didn't value oboro like he does

Hitsugi also does not like Utsuro because Oboro now spends all his time doing utsuro's will and wishes instead of sparing together with him like they used to before

He also does not like the fact that oboro bows before utsuro

or that oboro is so devoted to utsuro even though he's coughing up blood and clearly dying (hitusugi hates oboro injured, in pain or hurt)

hitsugi is the type of person to be so soft and devoted to oboro because he loves him. He would exit a car first, open the door on oboro's side, kneel or bow down, and extend his hand to help oboro out of the car

hitsugi would treat oboro as something fragile and value him so much because he loves oboro and knows he's deadly but in a beautiful way

yeah all in all hitsugi is an oboro simp

he thinks oboro is beautiful, beautiful when he's concentrating on paperwork, when surrounded by enemies and gracefully killing them, when he's dressed up in fancy formal robes to attend parties at the royal palace, when he's drenched in blood, when he's thoroughly beating others in training, when the moonlight reflects on his misty hair and pale skin, and yes, anything Oboro does is beautiful to Hitsugi

Oboro and Hitsugi, serious version🫣:

Hitsugi hates oboro

He thinks oboro is unworthy and a fraud

hitsugi hated oboro the moment he saw him as a kid walking side by side Utsuro-sama while hitsugi spent all day training and didn't get acknowledged for it

hitsugi hated how oboro received the status as utsuro's paige but was forbidden from even learning the ways of the naraku

hitsugi blames oboro for utsuro running away and becoming Shouyou, robbing the naraku of their leader

he was happy when he learned oboro died, but felt so much anger when he spotted oboro very much alive and with the same rank as him a few years later

hitsugi hated oboro more and they always fought in the training halls, sometimes oboro wins, sometimes hitsugi wins, sometimes they need people to stop their fights and pull them apart

they are rivals (not the kakashi and guy kind but a more extreme and serious version of sougo and hijikata where sougo fr fr fr wants to kill hijikata and would do it, that's hitsugi and oboro)

hitsugi hates when he and oboro are sent on missions together and will try to kill him or sabotage him

hitsugi hates oboro with so much passion he's always attempting to kill him, poison him or do anything to get him out of the picture or life (which is always frustrating for him because oboro has altana blood and will not die even if hitsugi manages to injure him fatally)

hitsugi and oboro are both strong, the higher ups have their eyes on them and they both know it. This causes their rivalry to increase, hitsugi does not want oboro to succeed and oboro has his own reasons to get to the top ( we all know why) and he's no afraid to lie, cheat, murder and betray people to do this

with the war and everything, hitsugi gets jealous when others start to talk about oboro and his feats in the war of taking out the enemies

he would work hard to beat oboro's now high kill count and record but it keeps going up

because of the war, they are both promoted to be apart of the three feathers of the naraku when two positions are opened at the same time. Their promotion ceremony was a two in one

because of their new positions they are sent on missions together

hitsugi thinks that maybe oboro isn't so bad after all since they are no longer fighting for the top

the war continues and they get sent on different missions and posts far away from each other

everything is peaceful in the truce hitsugi decided between them

until the shogun demands a new yatagurasu be put in place and the higher ups of the organization are deciding on who to give it too, Oboro or Hitsugi

unfortunately for hitsugi he doesn't know that Oboro is the one they want as chief and not him

unknown to hitsugi, oboro never stopped after achieving a rank in the three feathers, he worked hard to gain good favour in order to become chief

hitsugi doesn't know many years later oboro had the shogun, tendoshu and higher ups of the organization in his favour from the start, or that oboro was the once who whispered in the shogun's ear that they needed a yatagurasu, or that oboro held the shogun's fancy to help him get the position.

Of course Hitsugi doesn't know this but still worked hard and when the time came for their to be a battle to decide the new chief of the organization hitsugi was ready to put kill oboro and use his body as a footrest for when he sat on the naraku throne

So the day comes, a gladiator style battle between Hitsugi and Oboro for the throne of the yatagurasu held in an arena in front of thousands of naraku soldiers, the shogun and others influential figures, and the tendoshu.

Winner becomes chief of the naraku

it's a fight to the death or until either one of them can't get up anymore

it's a long, bloody, skilled and crazy fight between oboro and hitsugi, both of them are fighting for something important, their 100% serious, using all their power, any slightest mistake can lead to death and defeat for the person who made it

of course it won't be easy but oboro wins by getting hitsugi to collapse unconscious with blood loss, and using his own poisoned blade on him

Oboro wins the fight the moment Hitsugi falls to the ground and can't get up, Oboro's first order from as chief is to get him treated because he wants hitsugi alive

when hitsugi regains consciousness and learns he lost and oboro ordered him to stay alive he hated him more than ever when he learns that he has to participate in the coronation

that doesn't stop hitsugi from trying to kill oboro at all, because he knows that upon oboro's death, he is next in line to become chief and hitsugi wants that to happen sooner than later

anyway Oboro's coronation is a beautiful one, he wears fancy robes, gets a new pewter staff made of gold, and is presented with the mask of the yatagurasu to wear.

oboro takes his vows all that's left is to drink the holy water or ceremonial sake in front off the thousands watching

to hitsugi's delight, he is the one who has to pour the drink for oboro so that gives him the perfect opportunity to poison him, so he gets the strongest, most lethal poison of this earth and the most deadly amanto one and mixes them together and presents it as the ceremonial drink

when oboro takes the cup from the velvet cushion hitsugi presents it to him on hitsugi has to keep his head lowered because he doesn't want to smile and give away his intentions

when the crowd gasps in shock hitsugi knows he's won but is shocked to see oboro drink the entire cup and reach his hand out wanting more, and oboro will look down at hitsugi kneeling before him and reach out and take the bottle of poisoned sake from him and drink the entire bottle of what is meant to be a fast acting poison, drink every last drop, smile and ask for more

then when it is time to swear allegiance to the new chief hitsugi will be called upon first and on shaking legs that feel like they were made of jelly he will bite his tongue, bow down to oboro and swear fidelity to him

anyway oboro becoming chief of the organization does nothing to extinguish the hate hitsugi has for him

like how sougo is always trying to blow up, slice, stab and poison hijikata, Hitsugi will do the same to oboro but more extreme and dangerous 

oboro knows to never take any food, drink or even items given to him by hitsugi because he knows hitsugi wants his position

oboro is always on edge and aware of his surroundings because he knows hitsugi would attempt to take him out 

he still spars with hitsugi but now hitsugi never wins, he always loses

hitsugi attempts to get followers to overthrow oboro but it is hard because none on them can survive in a fight against him 

when utsuro returns hitsugi is happy because he expects utsuro to take the position away from oboro but is disappointed when he doesn’t 

when hitsugi finally gets alone with utsuro and begs him to dethrone oboro utsuro will leave a scar across his in warning to never talk to him so casually again 

so yes, years will go buy of hitsugi biting his tongue and following oboro’s orders but that will not stop him from attempting to kill him and poison oboro at all

years later when the former shogun sadasada is killed and oboro fails in his mission hitsugi will not let that slide, he will bring up oboro’s past errors like mukuro and the fact that she is still alive and gain followers to overthrow oboro’s rule

with utsuro elsewhere hitsugi will gets others on his side and call for oboro to be stripped of his position

hitsugi will plead with the tendoshu on how their yatagurasu is weak and needs to be dethroned and with the backing of others there will be another battle between hitsugi and oboro for the title of chief

hitsugi, will think he can win with oboro’s recent defeat and injury but will once again be on his back with oboro standing over him, giving him a scar on his face to match his own while defeating hitsugi and maintaining his position once again

so hitsugi lets up on his assassination attempts of oboro and will only resume them when he returns from a mission to see oboro missing an eye

he still loses their fight even if oboro is missing part of his sight 

when the naraku are called to deal with the rebels on the island hitsugi is ecstatic when he learns oboro has been maimed and defeated, but before hitsugi can make the call to depose him he is surprised when utsuro once again stops him and takes command of the naraku

it is after utsuro returns from his business on rakuyou that oboro does not return with him, utsuro makes hitsugi chief but also grants him the power of immortality 

yeah this did not make sense in the slightest but I got carried away 🫣

also yeah ik there’s def spelling mistakes in here but I am too lazy to fix them🫠

but yeah here is the answer to your ask bestie <3

but all in all I just made everything up ✨

[bakingwithmair]

Journal Two - Naan

Welcome back! This next recipe is naan, a leavened flatbread that's usually dipped in curry or hummus. It seemed like a middle skill level compared to the simpler banana bread and artisan bread. I used this recipe because the instructions were relatively simple and I didn't need an electric mixer to knead the dough. Also, there are pictures of every step off the recipe that are super helpful to reference.

There aren't many ingredients, but I did have to go to the store for plain yogurt, yeast, and anise seeds. I felt kind of confident at the start, although a bit of me also believed I would mess up and end up with inedible goo.

Yeast is required, which I've never used, so I went out and bought the key rising ingredient. They only came in packs of three which I was slightly annoyed by at first, but remembered I have two more breads to make and need to stock up on yeast anyway.

The recipe instructed I use a fork to mix the wet and dry ingredients, which took a while to get the consistency it needed. When I got to kneading by hand, the stickiness of the dough made me cringe. Some of it wouldn't scrape off, I even washed my hands halfway through the process to melt the globs of dough stuck on my fingers.

Working with my hands like this relaxed me. Not at first, when its super sticky, but once its a rubbery ball of dough ready to rise. Folding the dough over itself over and over again is calmly productive.

I covered it with plastic wrap and let it rest in my bedroom for one hour. Here's the dough before and that process.

There we go!

Like the recipe said, the dough doubled in size. It felt like getting a present to come back to a fluffy bowl of dough.

I shaped the dough into a flat naan without a measurer, which I now regret. I think most of them ended up too thick and not big enough. Without a rolling pin, I used the pink cup above to roll the dough. I got super focused on each piece, making sure they were all the same size and thin enough. I swear, I would roll a chunk of dough into a perfect flat slice, only for it to shrink into something more resembling a brick.

The piece of naan above looks like a hot pocket, I just noticed.

The room got so smoky, I put the electric fan on blast since I'm always scared of setting off the fire alarm. Each side cooked on the pan for a minute. However, the smell of char and smoke made me anxious, and I definitely flipped some pieces over thirty seconds too early.

I spread a small amount of butter and sprinkled some parsley on the bread, then set them in a towel-lined plate to keep them warm, like the recipe suggests.

So, here's the finished product(s). Fresh off the pan, I was really worried about the taste. There's greek yogurt in it, am I gonna taste that? The anise seed's distinct smell made for an equally distinct taste. It was an optional ingredient, and not one I think I'd use again. The parsley and butter added a nice little touch of extra flavor.

I tried the bread with my roommates, and the general consensus was very positive! I was certain they were all gonna taste like raw dough, but once they were cool and I figured out which ones were undercooked, I tasted a pretty good piece of bread! My roommates asked me to make them again soon- I think I might!

I never had such an interest in baking savory things like bread. But I really want to use this recipe again, or a different one, with my own modifications (no anise seeds!)

I'm still unsure exactly what bread I'll make next, but it'll definitely be a loaf. I'm thinking maybe sour dough?

Bye!