#I’m done now I just really like this series and I haven’t found anything to fall in love with fictionally that does everything I want it to

[marymjarvis]

I haven’t fallen in love with fictional characters and the world that they inhabit the way I have with Victoriocity in YEARS. It genuinely makes me feel like a kid again, the way I got when I was reading Harry Potter for the first time and the universe just was slowly unfolding and I wanted to know everything about it outside of the main storyline. And then you have the pitch perfect humor and characters I AM VERY DEEPLY INVESTED IN that are in the most perfect Victorian slow burn of all time where I KNOW SOMETHING IS GOING TO HAPPEN EVENTUALLY BUT ITS GOING TO TAKE YEARS AND ILL BE HANGING ON TO A DARCY HAND FLEX MOMENT FOR DEAR LIFE UNTIL IT DOES, and you got me hook, line and sinker.

But seriously, it’s well written. It engages in some trope but does so in a way that only good writing can where expectation is subverted and then not that that is surprising and delightful, The pacing is excellent. The world they’ve created is completely original but totally familiar which grounds the characters and the plot.

Anyway, I bought three copies of High Vaultage (audio, ebook and special edition hard copy of course), finished it, binged season three and now I need the link to the kickstarter for the next project because I NEED MORE. This is just going to be a fan account until then.

[reidmania]

love letters | s.reid

summary; when you miss spencer while he is away on a case, you re-read all the love letters he has written you over the course of your relationship

warnings; established relationships, mentions case but doesnt go into detail, fem reader, reader is not a coffee drinker, fluff fluff fluff

an; fic six!! this is just pure fluff tbh. also can we appreciate the colouring on this fic. ITS SO PERFECT PRETTU PERFECT.

You’re lying on the bed that feels too big without him, your fingers idly tracing the edge of a soft, worn piece of paper. The clock beside you reads 2:12 a.m., and you can’t shake the emptiness settling over you as you stare at the ceiling, too awake to sleep and too tired to do anything else. Spencer’s been away for three days now, and every hour without him feels like it stretches on and on, the silence heavier than you’d ever thought silence could be.

Your eyes drift back to the drawer beside your bed, a drawer he never opens, but where you keep something he would recognize instantly. Tucked away are letters, dozens of them, each one a quiet reminder of him. They’re notes, really—not grand declarations, not epic poems. Just little reminders he’s left you over time, slipped into coat pockets or left folded on your pillow. You hadn’t intended to save them all, but now, having them close is the only thing keeping you grounded while he’s away.

You open the drawer and pull out the little bundle tied with a piece of twine. Your heart swells as you untie it, gently unfolding the first note. It’s one of your favorites, written on a torn scrap of notebook paper, one corner crinkled from a drop of coffee. Spencer had left it on your kitchen counter before heading out to work, months ago.

“If I could leave you notes all over the world, I would. But for now, just look outside—it’s raining, and I know that makes you feel calm. I’ll be home before the storm’s over. – S”

You smile, remembering that day. You’d found the note just before noticing the rain falling in gentle streams outside your window, and you’d waited with a blanket by the window, watching the clouds until he came back, just like he’d promised. He always knew how to turn your little quirks into anchors.

Setting that note aside, you reach for another. This one’s written on the back of a receipt from the bookshop downtown. It’s short and scrawled in his neat handwriting.

“You pick up this book as if it’s a friend you haven’t seen in years. It’s beautiful to watch. Don’t forget to mark your place in the story—I want to hear what you think. – S”

You laugh to yourself, remembering how he’d tucked it into the back of the book after you bought it. He hadn’t let you see it until you found it yourself one night, and the memory of the way he’d watched you read that note makes your heart ache just a little more.

You lie back against the pillows, shifting so you’re curled around his side of the bed. It’s silly, maybe, reading these notes over and over. But as you go through them, each one reminds you how much he loves you, how he notices things about you that you hadn’t even noticed about yourself. His love is a quiet kind, a series of small gestures and words, but somehow, it feels bigger than anything else you’ve known.

Another note catches your eye. This one’s on a tiny sticky note, a bright yellow square you’d found on your mirror one morning.

“You make coffee exactly how I like it, even when you don’t drink it. I don’t think anyone’s ever done that for me before. I’m lucky. – S”

You can still remember the warmth of his hand over yours when he found you reading it, how he hadn’t needed to say anything else.

The letters become a timeline of your relationship, a way to measure time not by dates but by memories, by little notes that remind you of the person you are when you’re with him. Each one has a tiny piece of his heart tucked into it, a small reminder that he’s with you even when he’s halfway across the country.

You read through a few more, feeling your eyes grow heavy but not wanting to close them. There’s something grounding about seeing his words, knowing that he took the time to write these little messages just for you. In a way, it makes the ache of missing him almost bearable, makes you feel connected to him in a way that’s both heartbreaking and comforting.

You’ve just set down the last one, a note he left in the middle of a crossword puzzle—“How do you always know the words I can’t think of? I love you.”—when your phone buzzes on the nightstand.

It’s him.

You answer on the first ring, not even caring if he’ll be able to hear the lingering sleepiness in your voice. “Spencer?” you say, unable to help the warmth in your tone.

“Did I wake you?” His voice is soft, low, and there’s a hint of worry in it.

“Not really. I couldn’t sleep,” you reply. There’s a beat of silence before you add, “I was reading some of your notes.”

The smile in his voice is unmistakable. “You kept those?”

“All of them.” You can practically feel his surprise through the line. “It helps. You know, with you being away.”

He hums softly, a sound you know means he’s thinking. “Do you have a favourite?”

There’s a hundred favourites, but you know the answer without hesitating. ��The one on the mirror, about the coffee. I don’t think anyone’s ever noticed something like that before.”

The line goes quiet for a moment, but you know he’s smiling. “I think about those little things a lot,” he admits. “I keep thinking about how much I miss you. I know I’ll be back in a few days, but it doesn’t stop me from wishing it was sooner.”

Your heart tightens, and you can’t help but imagine him sitting in some unfamiliar hotel room, thinking of you just as much as you’re thinking of him. “I miss you, too,” you whisper, barely able to keep your voice steady.

There’s another pause, the comforting kind, where neither of you needs to say anything. It’s enough just to be together, even like this.

“Do you want to hear about the case?” he asks gently, as if he’s afraid you’ll say no. You do, because it’s part of him, and you always want to know. So he tells you, his voice a familiar comfort in the dark, weaving through the details with that measured precision he’s so good at. You listen, nodding at the right places, even though he can’t see you, letting his words settle over you like a lullaby.

When he’s finished, there’s a soft exhale on the other end of the line. “Do you have any notes for me?” he asks, the hint of a tease in his voice.

“I could think of a few,” you say with a smile, glancing down at the scattered pages on your bed. “Maybe a sticky note on your phone: ‘Call your girlfriend as soon as the plane lands.’”

You can hear his smile widen. “I think I can manage that.” His voice softens, the words almost like a whisper. “I’ll keep leaving them, you know. Notes, I mean. Just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“In case you ever need a reminder. That I love you. That I notice the little things. That I’ll be there, even if it takes a while.”

You’re quiet, just for a moment, because the words stick in your throat. He always knows how to get to the heart of things, how to make you feel so understood. “I don’t need a reminder for that,” you say. “But I’ll still read them every time I miss you.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’ve written so many,” he murmurs, the warmth in his voice unmistakable. “Get some sleep, okay? I’ll be home before you know it.”

You nod, letting your eyes close. “I love you, Spencer.”

“I love you, too,” he replies, his voice like a gentle embrace over the line. “Sleep well.”

The call ends, but you hold the phone to your chest, listening to the quiet in your room. For the first time in days, it doesn’t feel lonely. Spencer may be miles away, but his words are here, resting against your heart, waiting for you in every corner of every room.

[hoeforalbedo]

Dolly (Pt 2)

Human Alastor x Housewife!Reader

Pt 1, Finale

Tw: Murder, Forced Cannibalism, reader is described as a woman, dumbifying reader, mention of pregnancy, pregnancy.

Note: I guess I’m making this a series? I really want them to meet in hell. Also I really haven’t made it obvious bc I don’t want to erase Alastor being aroace. The way I see it, he’s kinda just toying with reader and grew obsessed once reader became a murderer.

———————————————————————

The morning after your delightful meal, you found yourself puking your guts out. The food did not agree with you at all. You wonder how Alastor’s body did not reject your food. Maybe it was all guilty’s conscience, but you’re not guilty for what you did.

Alastor holds your hair back, rubbing small circles on your back. “Oh my, what a way to start the morning. It makes me wonder if you’re perhaps pregnant.”

You shoot him a look, “Please do not say that, I beg of you.” No, you’re not pregnant, and Alastor knows you’re not pregnant. But if you are. . . That means you’re all to himself. You will have no choice but to depend on him even more. Even if you decided one day to leave him, you can’t. Nobody other man wants a tainted woman with children. Maybe one day he should get you pregnant.

Oh he absolutely knows that his dear wife has committed something awful and he’s proud of you, although he won’t admit it, yet. For now, he’s here to support you through the aftermath of your actions.

He could even recall his first kill, it was messy and uncoordinated, and the gore did not sit right with his stomach. But he hopes that his wife does not meddle in the business no longer. All you must do is sit pretty and be the doll you are. The sweet wife who cleans the house and cooks for him and cares for him dearly while being oblivious to the fact that your husband is out and about, killing many people.

But he’s curious. You might be just like him and the thought of that makes him want to grasp you in his hands tightly. To keep you all to himself and keep you away from anything that could take you away from him. At the same time, he wants to test you, push you further into insanity until there’s no more turning back and you’re addicted to the feeling of blood on your hands.

You’ve made a decision, you’re going to confess to Alastor. You can’t just keep him the dark about what you’ve done. “Alastor dear, so about Linda. . . I’ve. . .”

“No need to say more, ma cheri. I know.” He says, acting sympathetic towards you. He pulls you into a hug and you can’t help but burst into tears. He pats

“My dear, you’ve had such a bad morning so I believe you should go out and treat your pretty self with something,” He hums, combing your hair back.

“But-“

“I insist dear. Allow me to tend to the home and when you get back, you’ll be treated to a nice meal. How does that sound?”

Your lips pursed in thought. “Fine, but only because you insist.”

The phone rings.

“I’ll take that, mon cheri. Now I’ll allow you to get yourself all pretty and I’ll get you some money for you to spend.” He kisses your head and leaves you be.

———————————————————————

An outing is just what you needed, although it was not to relieve your nerves. You only felt guilt for having stained your hands with red. That matters not, anymore. Alastor says to relax and enjoy your outing and that is what you’d do.

Now that you’re out, Alastor prepares to go out. He puts his gloves, “I should prepare a freshly cooked meal for my dear wife. It’s about time I went hunting.” He hums to himself and leaves the house.

———————————————————————

The sound of chopping is heard through the kitchen. Chopped vegetables are put aside and Alastor is seen kneading a sort of meat. After he’s satisfied, he chops the meat and sets it aside.

“Let us see,” He says, squatting down to the body by the kitchen island. He reaches inside the abdomen, a squelch being heard as his hands move deeper. “Ah, there it is!” He says cheerfully as he cuts out the intestines.

After squeezing the contents out of the intestines, he looks up at the clock. “Oh dear me! It’s about time my dear Y/N comes home!”

It’s already 5 and he expects you to be home in about an hour.

He continues to grind away the other organs and meat before stuffing the intestines, making the sausages for the jambalaya.

After an hour has passed, you are back home. As you were about to reach for the handle, the door opened, revealing Alastor. “Welcome home ma cheri!” He greets you with a smile, pulling you in for a hug. You reciprocate and kisses his cheek. “What have you got there?” He asks, motioning to the bags.”

“Oh I’ve only bought a few dresses. Nothing out of the ordinary,” You shrug, putting the bags down.

“Then I should expect a show from you then, is that correct? Give me a little twirl in each dress?” His voice deepens as he tilts your head up to look at him.

“If that’s what my dear husband wants,” You say, almost as if you’re purring.

Alastor hums in approval and pulls your lips into a kiss. His arm around your waist, pulls you in, pressing your body against his. “Oh my pretty doll, you’ve got me all distracted.”

“And it is my fault?” She chuckles.

“Yes dear, it’s your fault for being so gorgeous, however I cannot complain about that. Come now, I’ve made jambalaya. Let us eat before it gets cold.”

You follow him immediately to the dining room. “How I love jambalaya. I’m grateful you’ve introduced me to one of your favorites.” You smile as you sat down. “You didn’t put shrimp?” You ask.

“I’ve decided to add some meat instead,” Alastor says, placing some food on your plate.

“Well anything you cook is delicious. I’ll enjoy every bite!” You beam.

The two of you continue to eat and chat. While doing the dishes, the door bell rings. “I wonder who that might be?” You say confused, not expecting any visitors.

Alastor goes to the front door and opens it with a smile. “Hello, how can I help you fine gentlemen?”

“We’re with the police, I’d just like to ask about your neighbors.” One of the officers say.

“Well of course!” Alastor remains to smile, however he is irritated, not that anyone notices.

“Who is it Alastor, dear?” You say, walking behind him. “Oh! Well hello officer!” You immediately put a bright smile. Alastor wraps an arm around your waist.

“Yes, you must be this fine gentleman’s wife. We’d just like to ask if you folks know anything about Mrs. Linda and perhaps Mr. Connor?” The officer asks.

“Connor? Well what could have possibly gone wrong?” Alastor says in confusion.

“Well officer, last night we got a call from dear Connor and just earlier before that, I believe during the afternoon, Linda paid me a small visit,” You answer.

“Is that so? Well ma’am, did she enter the home?”

“Yes she did. Just for a couple minutes though.”

“Anything in particular happened? Arguments, anything?” The officer pushes on.

“Oh of course not! Linda and I may only be acquaintances but I do not harbor such ill feelings for her.”

Alastor squeezes your waist, “You see, my dear wife is far too good for her own good. Far too oblivious to the world, but who can blame her. She’s a doll after all.”

You smile at the officers, looking very innocent.

“Why, I see why you married such a beautiful lady,” The officers chuckles. “Well did she say anything before she left?

“No sir. . . Well she did complain about how she suspects her husband of have a mistress,” You answer.

Alastor adds, “The couple do tend to have a tendency for infidelity. There’s neighborhood rumors of one of the kids not even being Connors’! It’s no surprise though. They say Linda sleeps with other men.”

You gasp, “You mean that man she was with that one day-!”

“Oh no need to worry your pretty little head about it. That is not our problem,” Alastor says.

“And the call you received from Mr. Connor?” The officer asks.

“Oh he just called to thank my dear wife for her generosity. She was kind enough to bake the family a pie. She’s a rather good cook,” Alastor answers with a smile.

“Well you see, both of the couples are missing and have left their kids unattended.”

“Oh that’s awful! Are they okay?” You ask with worry.

“They sure are. If you happen to hear anything about them, please do give a call, thanks for your time,” The officer nods and leaves.

After Alastor closes the door, you immediately broke into a sob. “They’re out to get me Alastor! They’ll get me!” You cling to him.

“My dear you won’t, I promise you they won’t. I’d do anything,” Alastor says in a hushed voice.

“I-I’m the last to have seen Linda and Connor! Now Connor is gone too! What if they think I am the one who killed him!” You cry hysterically.

“My dear, have you not seen yourself? No one would believe that a small thing like you could have possibly killed someone,” he reasons.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course dear.”

———————————————————————

“Must you really go, Alastor?” You plead, grabbing his hand.

“I’m afraid I cannot skip out on work today, mon cheri. But what if they get me? What if I can’t see you again?” You say with worry.

Alastor chuckles. Your clinginess used to be something that annoyed him but not finds adorable. “Remember what I said last night?”

You nod.

“So you’ll let me go right?”

You nod and let go of his hand.

“Good. Now I’ll be back later, my dear.” He kisses your forehead and walks out the door.

He in fact did not come home that night. He was found dead, a bullet to his head. You never landed on the suspect list, as Alastor was found to be the serial killer of New Orleans.

[silksongeveryday]

Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 600!

Here’s a quick 30 min doodle to celebrate! :D

Man time really flies huh

Thank you guys for 3.1k btw!!!

And big thank you to those who have joined me in this wild journey of daily doodles no matter how long you’ve been here. Truly did not expect what started as a joke to make it this far lol

(more stuff I wanted to talk about under the cut)

-A few updates-

General Stuff:

Well, life has been generally pretty busy. And while that’s made it a little more challenging to do daily doodles as of late, it’s been alright for the most part. Some of you may have noticed though that a lot of my daily posts have been showing up as much as 1-2 hours later than the regular time. Unfortunately with all the stuff I’ve been taking care of lately, putting a daily doodle/drawing on top of the pile means it’ll be late very often. I kind of have an unofficial job irl now so this stuffs hard to juggle sometimes.

Hornet’s Strange Adventures:

Initially I was hoping to get a lot of stuff done for this game during October but some recent job stuff is making that pretty hard to do. I probably won’t be able to make any significant progress on this game until very late October and into November. So if you were looking forward to big updates on progress, it sadly won’t be for a while, sorry. Outside of that though, I can at least say that all the routes have been thoroughly planned out from start to finish including the secret route. This includes rewriting some choices that have already been seen during the game’s time on ssed.

About Doodle Requests

I haven’t had them open for a while anyway, but I’ve finally come to the decision that I will no longer be taking doodle requests through tumblr asks/inbox. As fun as it was in the beginning, I often found myself trying to fulfill requests on the daily and that was stressful. That being said, it doesn’t necessarily mean I’m stopping requests entirely. I just don’t really want to do them for free anymore. Since I’m on Hornet Journal Series still, it’s a long way away before anything happens, but there’s a likely chance I’ll only do commissioned doodle requests whenever they re-open. We’ll see as it gets closer though.

Thoughts on taking an actual break:

I’ve mentioned this a lot in the past both here on ssed and on my main blog, but I’ve been seriously considering taking a break. Like a real one. Not just a “I’m gonna stockpile a bunch of doodles and pick it back up when I run out” kind of break. Especially with the way life has been going lately (mostly positive at least), I feel as though I may have to retire from daily doodles somewhat soon if there is no official news by the time this blog hits its 2 year mark. Don’t get me wrong I’ve loved doing this for the almost two years that it’s been going but at some point I’ll have to move on from this whether I like it or not. Does this mean that activity on this blog stops altogether? No. I just won’t be doing daily doodles anymore. There’s a more likely chance it would end up being weekly, or possibly monthly. Just not daily anymore.

Whatever the case, that decision will be considered more when 2 years gets closer. Until then just enjoy daily doodles while they’re still here!

—————————————————-

I think that’s all I can think of to say right now. Might post more thoughts on my main maybe?? We’ll see

Thank you again to all the lovely people that have been here during this crazy journey, you guys are awesome :D

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [13] - Cupcakes

A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: There are many ways to plan a wedding.

Word Count: 2500

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, stabbing, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

Apparently, the fact that you had been in a car chase with bullets flying around last night didn’t change the fact that you had to go cake tasting the next morning.

Even if you were in desperate need of some sleep.

Bucky had brought you back into the honeymoon suit last night and put around twenty bodyguards in the hallway before leaving, and even if you wanted to go with him to question the captives, you were way too tired to do so. Since he was nowhere to be found in the suit after you woke up, you figured he had gone to his apartment instead of here after he was done. You heaved a sigh as you filled your cup with coffee, then walked to sit down on the couch and pulled your phone up to check the schedule for the day. Taking a sip of your coffee, you sent a quick text to Becca, and looked over your shoulder when you heard the door open.

Bucky offered you a small smile as he stepped into the hotel suit, and you tilted your head.

“Hey,” you said. “I was wondering where you were.”

“Hey,” he rasped out, exhaustion laced in his tone and you frowned slightly.

“Why do you look like you haven’t slept last night?”  

Bucky shook his head, making his way to the coffee pot before grabbing a cup from the cabinet.

“Because I haven’t—” He stopped talking when he looked down at the red fingertip stains on the white porcelain cup he was holding, then cursed under his breath and went to wash his hands in the sink. You took a better look at him, now noticing the blood on his clothes and pulled back slightly.

“Bucky?”

“Not my blood,” he said. “I was uh—we were questioning the guys.”

“The whole night?”

“Mm hm,” he said, wiping his hands with a paper towel before grabbing another cup to pour himself some coffee. You leaned back to the kitchen island, cradling your cup in your palms.

“You should get some rest.”

“No time for that,” he said, taking a huge sip of his coffee. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and go to work. How do you feel? Could you get some sleep last night?”

“Are you trying to divert the subject?”

“Yeah, is it working?”

“No,” you deadpanned. “You need to sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak,” he joked, making you roll your eyes at him.

“Bucky.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I don’t,” you said quickly. “I don’t worry about you as a principle. It’s just that if you get sick because you haven’t slept or whatever, we’ll have to postpone the wedding and I know you haven’t met our wedding planner but she is not the type of person you cross.”

“Noted,” Bucky said. “Do you have any plans today?”

“I’m going cake tasting with Becca,” you said. “So did the guys say anything?”

“One of them will, eventually,” Bucky said. “We’re being very convincing.”

You hummed.  “Do you have a preference?”

“In weapons?”

You blinked a couple of times.

“In cakes,” you said. “Flavor wise.”

“Ah,” he said. “Sorry, my mind is still at the warehouse. Anything but banana.”

“Very helpful,” you muttered. “You don’t have a favorite flavor in cakes?”

“Not really, I’m good with all of them—” he started but his phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out, then his eyes skimmed the lines before he let out a groan.

“What?” you asked and he rubbed at his eyes.

“I forgot I had a meeting with Stark,” he said and cleared his throat. “Great, okay. So doing wedding stuff today then?”

“Yeah I gotta take a shower and get ready, but I can wait. You’re the one who looks like a horror movie killer.”

He grinned. “You know, if you ever wanted to save water…”

“You’re about to pass out from exhaustion and you can still make sex jokes?” you asked with your brows raised and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I have my priorities,” he said. “So if you—”

“That will never happen,” you pointed out. “Go.”

He held up his hands.

“Okay, okay…” he said as he climbed the stairs and you shook your head slightly when you heard the bathroom door close.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, taking another sip of your coffee. “Can’t believe I’m marrying him.”

                                             *

When you planned this cake tasting with Becca, you were sure it would be fun for you but safe to say, Becca’s mood wasn’t the best after last night. When you first talked about it, you had said Leila could join as well but since she wasn’t here, you could only guess they had a big talk last night, after the car chase incident.

“So,” you said as you sat down and grabbed the nearest cupcake, then read the label that informed you that it was walnut and carrot. “How have you been?”

“Fine,” Becca said, turning the cupcake in her hand and you pressed your lips together.

“How is Leila after last night?”

“Uh, she went to work,” Becca said, still staring at her cupcake. “And hasn’t texted me yet so I wouldn’t know.”

“Did she say anything last night?” you asked as you bit down on the cupcake, then shook your head and put it aside while Becca heaved a sigh.

“Yeah we talked.”

“And?”

“She says—I mean obviously she was terrified but she kept saying it wasn’t my fault.”

You hummed. “But you don’t believe her.”

“Well she has been in zero car chases with bullets flying around before she met me, so…” Becca trailed off and you reached out to hold her hand.

“Becca…”

“She’s going to leave me,” Becca said and cleared her throat. “You know what, she should leave me. That’s the right choice there.”

“Becca!”

“I never thought I’d say this, but maybe mom was right.”

You rolled your eyes. “I love Winnifred, but I wouldn’t take her advice on romance.”

“No no,” Becca said. “She kept saying this life is no fit for civilians, and she’s right.”

“You’re not even officially in the business,” you told her. “I mean I can see why being with a civilian would put them in danger if you’re one of the bosses, but you’re not. You don’t even want to be.”

“It doesn’t matter though,” Becca insisted. “I put my girlfriend in danger—”

“HYDRA put your girlfriend in danger,” you said. “And everyone is fine except those guys. I don’t know where Bucky took them but—”

“The usual warehouse.”

“Ah,” you said. “Well apparently he questioned them all night last night, so I can assure you that we’re taking revenge.”

“My girlfriend’s safety is more important to me than revenge,” she said and you pulled back slightly.

“Right,” you said. “No I know. But they’re never going to hurt anyone else, I assure you. And Leila is safe.”

She pursed her lips together and shut her eyes before squeezing at your hand.

“Sorry if that came out snappy.”

“No I get it,” you said. “Trust me.”

“It’s just…” she muttered and swallowed thickly. “Is this going to be the rest of my life? Always looking over my shoulder and worrying I might get someone killed?”

“Of course not,” you said in a rush. “No way. We had truce so far and it never happened before right? It’s just until we get rid of these assholes that we need to be extra careful, that’s all. After that, it will all be fine.”

She scoffed a small laugh.

“You sound like Bucky.”

“That might be the worst thing you ever said to me throughout our friendship,” you deadpanned and she let out a giggle.

“He looked pretty worried last night.”

“I mean I’d say so, you’re his little sister—”

“No no, for you,” she said. “We had a talk when he took me and Leila home.”

You pulled your brows together and shook your head.

“No way, Bucky doesn’t worry about me,” you said. “Why would he?”

Becca blinked a couple of times, and opened her mouth then closed it again to lean her fist on her lips, as if trying to control herself.

“Because we’re picking cakes for your wedding right now?”

“Oh yeah but that’s the only reason,” you said. “If I get killed, he will have to do business with Ian and he won’t do it so… It’s in his self-interest rather than my wellbeing.”

“I can’t believe I used to accuse Bucky of being oblivious.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” she said. “Okay so, my relationship issues aside, let’s pick the perfect cake for you and my brother’s wedding that is completely pragmatical on both sides, nothing more.”

You nodded fervently, then turned to look at the table.

“Not the bananas though, apparently he doesn’t like banana flavor in cakes.”

Becca raised her brows and tried to bite back a smile.

“Right. Uh huh.”

“Anyways,” you said and grabbed the next cupcake. “Let’s do a pragmatical cake tasting then.”

                                                        *

By the time you were done with everything you were supposed to do, it was already evening. You and Becca had picked two cakes but you couldn’t be sure so you had asked the bakery to give you a box of them so that you could get Bucky’s opinion as well.

Even though the idea of making his slice banana flavored just to mess with him was tempting, you were going to play nice.

Well, as nice as you could.

You pulled over in front of the warehouse and left the car with your bodyguards following you. Bucky’s men rushed around as soon as they saw you walking there with the small bag thrown over your arm, and one of them opened the door to no doubt let Bucky know. You smiled at the men by the door.

“May I?”

“Of—of course ma’am,” one of them said, opening the door for you and you stepped inside to see Bucky approaching the door.

“Charm?”

“Hi there,” you said looking around the warehouse. You had been here a couple of times while you were still the heir, and it looked as huge as you remembered. You could see the tied up figured on the chair far away in the room as the familiar scent of blood hit your nostrils, and you scrunched up your face before turning to Bucky’s men. “Could you leave us please?”

They turned to look at Bucky who nodded, so they all left one by one, leaving you with him and the tied figure that almost looked unconscious. Bucky went to the table to grab a towel so that he could wipe his bloodied hands.

“What are you doing here?”

“Wedding stuff,” you said, putting the bag on the table to open the small cardboard box. “I’m supposed to let them know tonight about which flavor we picked, and I figured I wouldn’t have the time if you decide to spend the whole night here again.”

“Okay but—”

“Also what kind of a question is that? We’re getting married and I can’t visit you at work, asshole?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Here,” you cut him off by pushing a piece of cupcake into his mouth before he could say anything else and he pulled his brows together as he chewed on it, obviously deciding that arguing with you was useless.

“This is amazing,” he said. “What is this?”

“Lemon coconut,” you said as you tore a piece of the other cupcake in the box while he nodded.

“We can go with this one—”

“No so fast buddy, try this too,” you said, pushing the piece of the other cupcake into his mouth again and he chewed on it, deep in thought.

“And this?”

“Chocolate blueberry.”

“Fuck, this is a hard decision.”

“I know right?” you asked while the guy tied to the chair let out a whine. “I’m more leaning towards lemon coconut but…”

“Yeah no, chocolate blueberry is delicious too—why don’t we have two cakes?”

“Because the cake is symbolical Bucky!” you whispered while the guy let out another groan. “This marriage is going to require us to take some decisions about business together, how are we going to do that if we can’t decide on—shut it asshole!”

Bucky looked over his shoulder at the guy. “Yeah prick, we’re having a conversation here.”

“Fuck you,” the guy managed to wheeze out and Bucky shook his head slightly.

“You’d think he’d be more cooperative since I killed the other guy in front of him.”

You hummed, picking at the cupcake. “We are killing him too right?”

“Obviously, he put you and Becca in danger.”

“He also made Becca upset!” you said. “You know how I feel when people make Becca upset.”

Bucky popped the piece of cupcake into his mouth, then nodded his head.

“Lemon coconut it is,” he said. “Can I go back to beating the fuck out of him now?”

“Yeah don’t let me stop you,” you said and grabbed another cupcake from the box to follow him to the guy.

It was quite obvious that Bucky had broken every single bone in his face considering how he looked. Blood was dripping from his nose and mouth, his breaths were leaving his bloodied lips in pained groans but he still managed to look up at you while you leaned sideways to the column close to you, nibbling on the cupcake.

“Oh isn’t this the princess?” he said with great difficulty but let out a groan when Bucky grabbed his throat to squeeze it.

“I didn’t say you could look at her,” Bucky said calmly and you grinned.

“Hi there,” you said, chewing on the cupcake. “You seemed more confident while you were chasing me with a car, huh?”

The guy let out a choked noise and Bucky tilted his head, then pulled his hand back so that he could breathe again.

“You fucking bitch…” the guy started but he didn’t get to finish his sentence when Bucky punched him in the stomach, knocking the breath out of his lungs. He coughed while Bucky shook his head slightly.

“He just doesn’t learn,” he told you and you shrugged your shoulders.

“They never do,” you said, turning to the guy. “That was very rude by the way. Someone should teach you some manners.”

The guy scoffed and spat out blood.

“Maybe someone should teach you, you spoiled slut—”

He didn’t get to say anything else when Bucky pulled out his knife and rammed it right into his kneecap, making him let out a howl of pain.

“Maybe,” you said, your voice completely calm. “It’s not going to be you who teaches me anything though.”

He tried to catch his breath while you popped the rest of the cupcake into your mouth, then tilted your head.

“Bucky?”

He looked over his shoulder. “Yes sweetheart?”

“Make him do it again.”

Bucky shot you a grin and twisted the knife, the guy’s scream echoing through the warehouse again.

Chapter 14

[look-at-the-soul]

Grandma knows best

Tommy Shelby x reader (+Grandma)

Summary: Thomas Shelby is a well known gánster, reckless, fearless, stubborn, restless… he might be a lot of things, but he wasn’t an inconsiderate man. Not specially with an elderly woman.

A/N: 🤷🏻‍♀️ grandmas definitely knows what’s best for us 👵🏻♥️✨ nothing but a fluff moment…

See the Grandma series here

Word count: 3,303

Taking off you coat, you tried to rub your hands to warm them up. Announcing you just arrived, barely noticing an unfamiliar voice.

But to your surprise, once you stepped into the kitchen, you found the least person you thought that could ever be there.

The Small Heath devil, Thomas Shelby.

“Oh darling, there you are.” You grandma greeted you with a wide smile. “I was just telling Mr. Shelby about you.”

“Grandma.” You were paralyzed, frozen in spot.

Giving you a subtle double look, he had to force himself to compose, nothing your grandmother had said about you prepared him. Your beauty was beyond words. And over the last hour he had heard nothing but compliments and good things, he had to admit he had been curious about that young lady that seemed to be exceptional.

A long time ago you learned walking alone once is dark is a bad idea, but crossing your eyes with that man was worse.

“We haven’t done anything wrong Mr. Shelby…” you tried to explain as the man stared perplexed, his man spread as if he owed everything in that house.

“Sweetheart Mr. Shelby helped me with the groceries and bread, the basket was heavy and he offered to walk me home.”

Noticing the terror in your eyes, he cleared his throat.

“My job is done here Mrs. Barwick, it was lovely to meet you, thank you for the tea.”

Standing up, he grabbed his peaky cap, the razor blade caught the light and shone in your direction. But your grandmother had a different idea.

“What do you mean you’re leaving? You’ve to stay for dinner.”

“Absolutely not.” You rushed to interrupt. Looking down at the tone you just used to answer your grandma you mumbled an apology.

“I really appreciate the offer bu-”

“This is absurd, you can’t leave until you’ve had dinner Mr. Shelby, I must insist, and I need to know the rest of the story of that caravan trip you did.” She replied scolding him just like she did with you, in that motherly tone.

Frowning you looked from her, to the well known gánster. There was no way back now, he was staying for dinner.

“Now, would you like some more tea?” She offered to him, as Thomas opened his mouth to say no, your grandma filled the cup again. It looked ridiculous in his hand.

The most dangerous man in the country drinking tea from a cup decorated with flowers. ¡In your bloody kitchen!

“Milk?” She offered, ignoring the fact that he could kill her anytime. You’ve heard all kinds of stories about him and the tortures he used among his enemies.

“Yes thank you.”

“Sweetheart, would you mind helping me here?” She pointed at the pot next to her knees, it was getting harder for her to bend down these days.

“I’ll get that for you.” He offered and in mere seconds he was crunching down to get it.

“Oh bless you.” Your grandma offered him another smile. “Why are you still standing there?” She called to get your attention.

Shaking your head a little, you were able to move past the initial shock, but still threw the man a side look just to make sure he wasn’t planning to blind your grandmother.

“Shall I cut these?” Mr. Shelby proposed pointing at the potatoes, after your grandmother nodded he produced a knife from his pocket, making you gasp. “Everything alright Miss Y/LN?”

“If you excuse me, I’ll come back in a minute.” She raised her eyebrows at you before she left.

“Listen it’s just the two of us alright? I pay the taxes and give money to church but I won’t pay you for protection.” You should have kept your mouth shut but for some reason, adrenaline made you talkative and you were nervous, afraid for your life, for your grandma.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not here to collect any money.” He raised his hands in defense. “Your grandmother is adorable.”

“What?” You asked perplexed, thinking of a possible way to get out of the house safely.

“You heard me, I’m not here to do any harm to you or her.” He clicked his tongue. “She said you’re a smart woman, you’ve nothing to worry about.”

“Then why are you here?” Confusion was written all over you.

“She offered me tea and cookies… oh! And dinner.”

“You can’t stay!”

“Y/N! Where are your manners? That’s no way to treat such a gentleman.”

You couldn’t help but scoff at her words. Thomas Shelby a gentleman. He narrowed his eyes, and gave you an offended look.

“Set the table, I’ll finish this.” She ordered.

Doing as she asked, you went to collect the plates.

“Not that ones! The fancy set!” She instructed pointing the spoon at you.

Tommy chuckled at your surprised expression, but quickly looked down to continue his task chopping the vegetables.

But he’s a criminal! He’s a gangster! You wanted to say. Yet, she wanted to use the delicate china reserved only for important occasions.

Placing the plates, you took then the silverware from the drawer. Seconds later you heard them laughing over something he had said, your grandmother’s voice praising him for his sense of humor. She had no idea who he was! Or what he had done.

“And what did he say afterwards?” He asked your grandma, you found him leaning against the sink, his body turned to face her.

“He said, I swore I saw you first, it had to be me the one who would make the first move.” Your grandmother stated proudly.

Here she was, seventy something years old telling the number one Birmingham’s criminal her love story with your grandfather.

“I told him, of course honey, you chose me. He always thought it was him, but it was me the one who chose him.”

“How long were you married?” He asked with interest.

“Over fifty years, most of my life. Can you believe that?”

“That’s lovely.” He admitted. The words sounded so wrong in his mouth, he should be cursing or shouting.

“Dinner is ready.” Your grandma announced. “Y/N help our guest.”

You wanted to roll your eyes.

“Food smells amazing.” He complimented.

“Would you like a piece of bread? Tommy?”

“Grandma!”

“What? He says I can call him that.” She defended.

“Please.” He smiled and you groaned internally. “I’m going to wash my hands.”

As soon as he disappeared, your grandma grabbed your arm. “You need to put a smile on that face my darling, can’t you see? An educated gentleman is visiting us, he smells nice, has a sense of humor, is polite and handsome… have you seen his eyes? It’s like a piece of heaven!”

“So what? He’s a-”

“You need to find yourself a decent man, Y/N.”

“He’s not a decent man.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Grandma, he’s an arrogant, selfish and dangerous-”

“May I have this honor?” He asked interrupting your little disagreement, offering his arm to your grandma, he guided her tenderly towards the table. He probably heard everything you said.

“So, Tommy what is that you do?”

“I’ve a business, we sell car parts in different countries.”He wasn’t lying.

“I’ve never used a car!”

“Then I should take you for a ride.”

You felt about to combust, he was charming your grandmother and she believed him!

Grinding your teeth, you placed the food on his plate.

“I really appreciate this.” He gave you a twisted smile.

Your grandmother’s hand came to rest on his arm. “I’m so glad I came across you this afternoon. It’s been lovely to share this meal with you.”

“I’m flattered you think that.”

“You don’t have a wife waiting at home, do you Tommy?” Your grandma asked bluntly and you almost chocked on your food.

“No, Mrs Barwick. I’m not married.”

“How is that possible?” She shook her head. “You deserve a good woman!” Then, looking at you she said; “what was that tale I told you to find a husband?”

“I don’t know grandma, I’m done with my dinner if you excuse m-”

But the look she threw in your direction, made you reconsider leaving the table. Sometimes she didn’t need to use her words. One look was more than enough.

You took a deep breath uncomfortable, and it only grew as you could feel Mr. Shelby’s eyes on you.

“Your grandma mentioned you sell books.” He asked to ease the tension.

“Yes.”

“Oh but show him! About that collection you got.” Your grandma encouraged.

“What is it about? Eh?”

“She’s a great seller.” She praised.

“Oh.” Mr. Shelby’s eyes sparkled. He was having fun. “Really?”

He was the most irritating person you’ve ever met.

“It’s about the Greek mithology.”

“Fascinating.” He nodded. “Why don’t you stop by my office tomorrow? I’d like the entire collection.”

“That’s wonderful!” Your grandma beamed.

“All set then.” He ran his tongue over his lips and then, tilted his head. “You made me remember about my grandmother.”

“What was a she like?” Your grandmother asked, batting her lashes.

He had her eating from his palm deliberately.

Studying the man before your eyes, something changed inside you. How could he be so cold-hearted? He seemed like a total different person in that very moment, his guard was down, posture totally relaxed, he even had a smile on his face.

Catching you off guard, you had to look away from him.

“She was a gypsy princess.” His blue eyes filled with nostalgia. “Thanks to her I learned all about values like respect, loyalty. She showed me how to ride a horse and light a fire.”

“It must’ve been hard for her to be on the road.”

“Actually no, she loved to be free, said how nature provided us for everything we might need.” He explained all while his deep voice was dragging you into something you couldn’t name. “It’s getting late and I don’t want to keep you up. Thank you once again.”

“Thank you for a lovely evening Tommy, would love to have you again for dinner .”

He gave you another look, not so subtle this time.

“I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Not at all, right Y/N?” She pressed her elbow against your arm. “Walk him to the door my dear.”

Offering his hand to her, she whispered into his ear; “She doesn’t trust easily, you’ll need to work harder.”

Tommy tried to disguise his chuckle, after winking at your grandmother he thanked you too.

“I really enjoyed it, hope to see you around?” He arranged the peaky cap on his head and placed his hand on your arm.

“Goodnight Mr. Shelby.” Was all you could think of saying, still confused by everything that happened.

“Goodnight Mr. Shelby?” Your grandmother mimicked your voice. “You’ll need to do better next time, fix your hair, wear your new shoes… a little something! Y/N I placed him in a silver tray for you and you only said two words to him. Sweetheart you need to do something to catch his attention.”

Opening your mouth to protest, but she continued rambling. “But be discreet, you must stand out from the other women, don’t throw yourself at him, leave him wanting more,” her eyes sparkled in excitement. “A hand on his shoulder, hold his gaze… or pretend to brush something from his coat and then look at his lips.”

“Grandma, stop.” You blushed.

“Goodness, I can’t do anything else for you! He was right here!” She took the plates to the kitchen. “A smile might help, you need to ask him about his day, fix his handkerchief…”

“He was only here because you didn’t give him another option.” A sigh escaped your lips.

“My sweet girl, you’ve everything he needs,” she cupped your chin gently. “But you’re too shy! He kept staring at you…”

“I think your imagination is wild.”

“Y/NY/LN,” you stopped midway as she called your full name. Oh oh. “I like him to be my grandson-in-law… so you gotta do something soon.”

And knowing her the way you did, you realized there was no way back now. Once an idea got into her head, she wouldn’t let that slip away.

“I’ve been praying for this moment for so long!” You heard her say from across the room and then she mumbled something about that blue dress that suited you so well.

As you were about to clean the kitchen you heard a knock on the door. Opening, you were surprised to find the most terrifying man on your doorstep once more.

Your heart rate went up immediately, he was standing with his hands crossed in front of his body, head hanging low, you could only see his lips under the peaky cap.

“I’ll be waiting for you Miss Y/LN, tomorrow ten o’clock, I’ll make sure to send someone to help you with the books.”

“That won’t be necessary, I can carry them by myself.” You insisted, still unsure about his intention.

“Fairly well, as you wish.”

As he turned around to leave, something made you stop him.

“I want to thank you for helping my grandmother.” Never, in a million years you imagined you’d be grateful for something he did.

Lifting his jaw to stare at you with those piercing blue eyes that could set anyone into stone, he gave you a smile.

“I just did the right thing.” He cleared his throat. “You’ve nothing to be afraid of by the way, don’t believe everything you hear.”

“I just learned that, you can be considerate and charming sometimes.”

“Then consider yourself lucky,” he winked at you, “that doesn’t happen too often.”

Looking past your shoulder, Tommy noticed your grandmother’s head poking, moving her hands excitedly towards you.

****

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @lau219 @red-riding-wood

[rempewiththetempe]

Is This Off The Record? — Quinn Hughes⁴³

Chapter One

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

Summary: Y/n gets a job as a rinkside reporter for the Vancouver Canucks, befriending many of the roster members, but one player (who just so happens to wear the C on his chest) is rather against the idea of becoming friends with the girl.

Warnings: use of y/n, cursing, I think that’s it?

w/c: 3,198

a/n: I haven’t written anything in what feels like forever, so I hope this isn’t too bad. I started writing this at like 6 in the morning without sleep the previous night and finished it up after i finally slept so I apologize for any mistakes. I’m also not very educated in the world of reporting but I tried my best. I hope you enjoy!

  You weren’t new to the world of reporting. Not in the slightest, actually. You had dreamt of being a big-time journalist since you were just a girl. You’d had it in your head for a while now that you wanted to be a sports reporter. It was kind of niche, sure, but you were going to do everything you could to achieve that goal.

  Your dad originally fueled your love for sports, and while you never played any sports competitively, you loved watching them nonetheless. There were a few sports that you didn’t enjoy watching at all. You didn’t have a “favorite” sport per se, but if someone asked you what sport you pictured yourself covering, you would say football. Of course, he made it clear that no matter what you did, he would be infinitely proud, but once your dad had learned that you wanted to work in sports reporting, he brought up how cool it would be if you could be a sideline reporter one day. Since then, that was the picture you’d had in your head for what you’d be doing in sports. Things don’t always work out the way you want them to though.

  When you’d gotten the call that you landed a job as a rinkside reporter for the Vancouver Canucks, you were beyond excited, but part of you felt a bit disappointed. It was the part of you that always wanted to be perfect at everything, the part that always demanded the best of yourself, and the part that never accepted failure or defeat. You had been dreaming about your future job for years, and it wasn’t working out exactly how you’d planned. It was fine though. Lots of people would kill to get a job like this, so it had to be fine.

  You’d lived in the Seattle area for your entire life, so you’d been hoping to land a job with the Seahawks. It didn’t work out that way, but you still landed a job with a major sports franchise within five hours of most of your immediate family. You were glad about that. Family was one of the most important things to you. Well, your family and your job.

  It didn’t take you long to pack up your things, preparing for your move to Vancouver. You’d lived in that small studio apartment for the last 4 years and it still didn’t feel like home. It still felt empty and barren. No marks on the floor from the constant dragging of kitchen table chairs. No residue of crayon low on the wall from where you and your brother had drawn on it and done a shitty job of wiping it off the wall afterward. No crack in the porcelain of the bathroom counter poorly covered by whatever the fuck kind of glue concoction your mom had tested out on it. It wasn’t home. And now it really would never be considered home.

  You’d already found a place to rent in Vancouver, a one-bedroom apartment with suspiciously low rent, and even though you’d seen it in person once, you were still slightly skeptical because of the price. Despite the stress of trying to move and find a place quickly, you were happy. Stressed, but happy. And that’s what mattered.

  You didn’t want to take a plane when you went to Vancouver, for obvious reasons, so you drove your car. Well, technically you didn’t drive your car, your brother, Brock, did. He insisted on driving up with you, even if it was only a two-and-a-half-hour drive. He had a friend who had moved up to Vancouver about a year ago who he hadn’t seen since. He came up with the idea that he’d drive you up to your new home and make sure you were settled in, and then he’d have his friend pick him up from your place so they could hang out for a few days before he took a bus or a train home or something. He didn’t really have a fully formulated plan. He often didn’t. It annoyed you to no end sometimes. It somehow always worked out okay for him though.

  “I’m just a little worried about you is all,” Brock spoke from the driver’s seat, glancing over at you momentarily before turning his eyes back to the road ahead of him. You were sat in the passenger seat of your car, absentmindedly scrolling through social media to pass the time of the could-be-worse drive. Brock’s words broke the comfortable silence that had hung in the car for the past 30 minutes. You lifted your gaze up from your phone to look at your brother who was two years your junior, yet was protective of you nonetheless.

  “I don’t know what you’re getting so worried about,” you said with a faint smile and a fond shake of your head. You turned your phone off and set it face down on your thigh as you heard him sigh at your words.

  “You’re gonna be all on you’re own, Y/n/n,” Brock let out with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, not taking his eyes off the road this time. His words didn’t exactly make a whole lot of sense. You moved out over four years ago and here he was talking about you living on your own.

  “I’ve been living on my own.” An exasperated chuckle escaped you before your sentence had even left your mouth. You found Brock to be a little funny sometimes, even when he wasn’t trying to be.

  “Shut up, you know what I mean, dumbass,” he said, a little laughter making its way out of his throat as he spoke. He shoved at your shoulder lightly. It was kind of hard to have a serious conversation with a boy whom you once saw eat an entire pack of Oreos within five minutes, then vomit everywhere, and proceed to try again with a pack of Nutter Butters.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” you said, giggling slightly at the random memory that entered your mind. The car fell silent after that, but the silence was short-lived as 10 minutes later, Brock decided to play any and every Kidz Bop song on Bluetooth to annoy the ever-living shit out of you. It worked tremendously. You flipped him off and popped your headphones in, curling up on the seat in a way that you knew would have your back hurting later. You somehow managed to fall asleep, even with Brock brake-checking you about 10 times.

  Brock had helped you settle into your new apartment, staying there for a day to help you get your stuff unpacked. There was only a box or two left to unpack by the time his friend came to pick him up. You hugged him tightly, knowing it would probably be a little while until you saw him again.

  That night, you’d wanted to go to bed early, since you had your first day on the job tomorrow, but, of course, you couldn’t stop tossing and turning until about three in the morning when your alarm was set to wake you up at 6:30. You were sure that snooze button would be pressed at least a few times the next morning, and you were right.

  You’d finally gotten out of bed at around seven in the morning. Something like that. You weren’t entirely sure. It didn’t affect your morning schedule too much though. You’d given yourself extra time so you could unpack the rest of your stuff. That part of your schedule had been replaced by you lying in bed and repeatedly pressing the snooze button. You could always unpack your stuff when you got back to the apartment, so it wasn’t a huge deal.

  The Canucks’ practice technically started at 11 AM, but most of the players arrived at ten, so that’s when you wanted to be there. That meant you had to leave your apartment around 9:30. You wanted to be punctual. No mistakes.

  You walked into your very empty bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. You cringed slightly at the barely noticeable dark circles under your eyes. You knew that they would go unnoticed for the most part and that concealer would probably cover it, but you were still pissy about it. You hadn’t gotten any quality sleep, after all. Well, that’s that, I suppose, you thought to yourself.

  You stripped and stepped into the shower, grabbing the mini shampoo, conditioner, and body wash bottles you always kept in your toiletries bag, since you’d forgotten to buy some yesterday. Your family always teased you about carrying those bottles with you, but they actually came in handy so who’s laughing now? Probably still them. Eh, you can’t win every battle.

  You took a long shower, washing away the drive from the day before and the shitty sleep you got last night. You closed your eyes and let the warm water hit your face, finding comfort in the feeling despite just barely being able to breathe through the stream of water.

  You eventually turned the water off reluctantly and grabbed the towel off the rack that you’d put there just yesterday. You shivered as you opened the curtain and the cold air hit your wet skin. Warm showers were great until you had to get out.

  You went through the rest of your routine, brushing your teeth, blowdrying your hair, finding an outfit to wear, etc. The morning felt like it passed by in slow motion. The suspense was killing you. You were restless as you waited for the clock to tell you it was time to leave. When it did, you practically bolted out the door.

  The drive to the practice arena was anxious, to say the least. The excitement had turned into nervousness as soon as you put your key in the ignition. No music played through your speakers. The Bluetooth never connected to your phone, but even if it did, you wouldn’t have turned anything on anyway. Silence was what you needed to collect your thoughts and prepare yourself.

  You got to the rink early, but you were glad you’d gotten there early. Better than being late. You sat in your car for a few minutes, before finally taking a deep breath and getting out. You must have made sure you locked your car at least ten times as you walked up to the arena, which was most definitely unnecessary.

  Once inside, it was surreal looking at the environment. It was their practice arena, nothing incredibly special about it, but it was what the whole thing meant. It meant that you were doing what you loved, what you’d wanted to do for so long. You absolutely couldn’t wait.

  It didn’t take long for all the players to arrive. Most of them arrived around the same time, pretty much all within a span of about five minutes. You had a few words with some of them, mainly just quick questions that didn’t really get you anywhere, but, hey, progress is progress. You actually had a relatively long chat with J.T. Miller, you know, considering the circumstances. The conversation didn’t last nearly as long as you would’ve liked but he spent longer talking to you than the others did.

  The last one to arrive was none other than the newly-named Captain of the Canucks himself, a whole ten minutes after everyone else did. He wasn’t technically late, but still. It didn’t seem very Captain-like, but you guessed that you weren’t quite in the position to judge, seeing as you didn’t even play sports, let alone captain an NHL team.

  “Hi, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to ask-” You began cheerfully but cut yourself off due to the fact he didn’t even acknowledge your presence. He just…walked right by. You couldn’t tell if he actually didn’t hear or see you, or if he was just really fucking shameless about ignoring people. You could hardly believe either one, but at least the former option would be a misunderstanding. The latter was just plain fucking rude.

  You stood baffled for a moment but recovered as you saw him disappear into the locker room. You blinked a few times to clear your head of the weird interaction, before going over to take your seat next to the rest of the reporters and journalists.

  The practice went smoothly from what you could tell. It didn’t seem like a whole lot was going on, just routine drills. You made sure to take lots of pictures anyway, essentially documenting the entire practice, sometimes focusing your camera lens on the fan favorites. You were certainly better with your words than with a camera, but they say a picture is worth a thousand words, so you tried. Your photography skills weren’t as good as you would’ve liked them to be, but you were getting better.

  As their practice came to a close, most of the reporters and journalists gathered outside the door to the locker room, waiting for the okay to enter and ask their questions. Of course, they wanted their questions answered. It was the first official practice of the regular season, after all. You tried to wriggle your way to the front but to no avail. It seemed kind of counterproductive. Once the limited amount of media reps had begun filtering in, you certainly felt like a small fish in a big pond. Forget the pond, you were in the fucking Pacific Ocean. Everyone else seemed to know exactly what they were doing, exactly who to go to, and which questions to ask them, and you didn’t. You were sure you looked like a lost puppy in here.

  Someone seemed to notice that too. The fellow you’d had a friendly chat with earlier. The 30-year-old center was already answering some questions from another reporter, but as he answered a question you hadn’t quite heard, he jerked his head to the side, inviting you over. You gladly went. You probably wouldn’t have been able to work up the courage to talk with anyone in here alone. You made your way over to where he stood, a microphone held in front of his face by the middle-aged male journalist who stood directly in front of him. You stood slightly off to the side, waiting for the other reporter to finish up with his questions.

  Once he finished his questions, you made room for yourself in front of the man who had thankfully granted you his kindness. He chuckled as you awkwardly stood in front of him. His presence was somewhat comforting.

   “Don’t sweat it, Kid,” He said, flashing you a comforting smile. The way he spoke the words reminded you of the cool teachers in school after you’d fucked up so badly that you’d just barely gotten by with a passing grade.

  You laughed a little self-consciously at his comment, now knowing that your shortcomings were also apparent to others and not just you. You took a deep breath before speaking, attempting to calm your nerves.

  “Would you wanna answer a few questions?” You managed to ask and it felt like a big step for you even though it was just a seven-word sentence. He nodded wordlessly, a reassuring smile on his face as he did so.

  You actually shook off some nerves and asked him a few run-of-the-mill questions. Simple ones like, What aspect of play do you think your team has improved the most in over the off-season? What aspects of play have you improved in individually over the off-season?, and Do you think your team possesses the necessary chemistry between teammates to be a Stanley Cup contender this year? All of the questions either came with easy answers or came with no direct answer at all. You didn’t mind all that much though. Not right now anyway. You were asking the right questions, and knowing that made things just a little bit easier.

  After you had finished your short interview with J.T., he led you over to where his Captain stood, stating that you just had to ask him some of your questions. You weren’t entirely keen on the idea after your, for lack of a better word, odd interaction with him before practice had even started, but you begrudgingly obliged.

  “Are you sure he’s up for more questions?” You asked almost nervously as a sort of last-ditch effort to get out of talking to this guy. You knew it was a stupid question that wouldn’t get you anywhere. These people knew how to talk to the media and they knew that it was part of their job to do such, of course,, he’d answer some questions. No harm in at least trying to get out of it though, right?

  J.T. just laughed at your question and the insistence in your tone at first. He either didn’t know or didn’t care that you didn’t want to talk to Quinn and you didn’t know which one made you more annoyed.

  “He won’t mind,” He finally said said after a breath. You didn’t care if he minded, quite frankly, you did not want to go through another awkward interaction. You’d already gotten the answers that you’d needed anyway. You were screaming internally.

  Quinn was finishing up some questions with some other journalist when you made it over to where he stood. He had an intense gaze as you could tell he carefully thought about each one of his answers. He glanced over at you as the woman in front of him asked what you simultaneously hoped would be her last question and her first question, wanting this to be over with as quickly as possible but not even want it to start in the first place. His eyes weren’t on you long and you weren’t exactly sure what to make of the way he looked at you for that short time. 

  The question the woman had been asking had actually been her last question and you let out a breath when you realized such. With a smile on his face, J.T. nudged Quinn and it looked like he was about to say something, but he was cut off by the woman who had just been interviewing Quinn.

  “Could I ask you a few questions as well?” She asked J.T. with a rather confident smile on her face and you didn’t know how one could even be that confident in a situation like this.

  “Um, sure,” He said after a moment and you could see that he didn’t exactly want to, but he knew he kind of had to.

  You silently begged him not to leave you alone, but it was part of his job and you knew that. You still let out a long sigh as he was led a little further away from you and Quinn as to not interfere with your interview.

  You turned back to Quinn after a moment and he was also watching J.T. being virtually dragged away. It seemed that he saw you look back at him through his peripherals, and he turned to face you.

  “Can you answer some questions for me?”

[fandom-whores-world]

Remarkable 3

Batfam x Neglected! Reader

Prologue , Part 2

Hey guys! I’m back! After seeing how popular this series became I knew I had to shift my focus to it! I hope you guys enjoy Part 3

You woke up the next morning, and everything went the way it usually did. Alfred knocked on your door to announce breakfast, Tim walked right past by you in the hall, and the rest of your siblings made plans you would never be invited to. You finished up breakfast quickly, thanked Alfred for the delicious food, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and then were on your way.

Instead of taking the limo to school with Tim and Damian, you preferred the less stressful option of riding your bike to Gotham Academy. You hadn’t really cared much about going to school with Tim, but now that Damian was about to enroll as a freshman a part of you wished you had gone to school in Metropolis. Damian was a difficult person to deal with on the best of days. His status as Bruce Wayne’s only legitimate son gave him more than a big ego, but the truth was you really just didn’t want another Wayne to have to compete with. At least if you had gone to school in Metropolis you would have been closer to your best friend Kara.

Kara and you had become fast friends when you first moved into the manor. She would tag along with her cousin, Clark Kent, who had a close relationship with your father despite living in a different city and having very different occupations. According to Kara since you were the same age it was a sign you two were meant to be best friends. While you didn’t really believe in things like “signs” you were glad to have Kara in your life. She was kind, funny, strong, but most importantly she saw you. It didn’t matter to her that you weren’t a prodigy like your brothers. She loved you for you, and that meant the world.

You sighed before chaining up your bike outside of the school. ‘What’s done is done’ you thought as you approached the large marble building of your school. Even if you didn’t like going to school with Damian, there wasn’t anything to be done about it. After his elementary school graduation Damian would be attending Gotham Academy whether you liked it or not.

As you entered the school building you noticed a large group of students crowded around the announcement board. You tried to catch a glimpse of what they were looking at, but there were too many people in the way. Eventually you found your friend Olive in the crowd and asked her what was happening.

“You haven’t heard (y/n)?” She pulled you to the side of the crowd where there was a small gap just wide enough to see the poster that had caught everyone’s attention.

“Your father is coming to give a speech about running a successful corporation”

You whipped your head around in shock. Olive continued talking, but all you heard was static. Your mouth felt like cotton, your ears started ringing. You were about to start spiraling, but before you could you felt a hand clamp down on your shoulder. You turned around and saw Olive looking at you with worry.

“Are you okay, (y/n)? Maybe you should sit down? Come on, just a few classes before lunch with Kyle and I”

She guided you away from the crowd and the board so that you could calm down.

“Homeroom is about to start (y/n). Why don’t we head to class?”

You nodded mutely, but your mind was still on your father. You may not fight for his attention anymore, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t affect you. You knew that as soon as the event was over everyone would be swarming you and Tim for info about your father. While Tim may not like being pestered with questions at least he wouldn’t have to reopen all those wounds of neglect you would.

Eventually you reached your homeroom. Olive started waving at her boyfriend, Kyle and pulled the two of you over to where he sat. Kyle smiled warmly at the two of you before gesturing to the seats around him.

“Don’t leave a poor boy alone guys”

Olive laughed before putting her bag down and sitting next to him. The three of you were desk mates with Kyle sitting closest to the window, Olive in the middle, and you in the aisle. Seeing that they were waiting for you to join them you shook your head free of the negative thoughts that filled your head, and took a seat.

Eventually the three of you settled into light conversation over one thing or another, and before you knew it the class had started. You were grateful to have Biology as your homeroom since it is one of your best subjects. When you first moved to Gotham you had wanted to be a Doctor like the men and women who took care of your mother before she passed. While you didn’t want to be a Doctor anymore, you were still reaping the rewards of study from your childhood dream.

The class came to an end, and after that the rest of the day went by in a haze. By the time you realized it you were on your way back to the Biology Lab for second homeroom. You had left your book bag open by accident, and a girl pushed by you knocking all of your school supplies out in the process. She threw out a half hearted apology and a tight smile before rushing by. You decided not to let it bother you. There were very few students in the hallway, but the hall was very narrow which made it difficult for you to pick up your things without getting in someone’s way.

Eventually you decided to just wait for your classmates to leave the hall before grabbing your things. When you were almost finished picking up everything you heard some footsteps approaching the hallway. You looked up and saw the Dean of Gotham Academy turn into the hallway while talking to your father’s party guest, Harvey Dent. You were surprised to see him again so quickly after the party. While you were lost in thought the Dean became aware of your presence, and moved to introduce you to him. However, before she could Harvey stepped forward and held out his hand,

“Ms. Wayne, it’s a pleasure to see you again after the gala”

You laughed awkwardly while getting off the floor before accepting his hand and giving it a shake.

“It’s nice to see you again too, Mr. Dent”

The Dean noticed your familiarity with Harvey Dent and started going on and on about your accomplishments at the school.

‘She’s probably looking for a donation’ you thought wryly.

The whole time Dent nodded his head and listened with rapt attention. Eventually the two started to wrap up their conversation. Once again Dent turned to you, and started to chat

“I don’t want to seem pushy, but it really would be nice to have you work with me. Have you given my offer any more thought?”

You bit your lip and fidgeted awkwardly before finding some inner courage and saying

“I want to take you up on it please!”

Dent gave you a million dollar smile, shook your hand, and said

“That’s the spirit, kid. Glad to have you on board as my newest intern! You start Saturday at 9:00 a.m. Don’t be late!”

[delicatebarness]

cry baby | chapter three

Summary: Not your average day out, well, maybe for The Avengers it is.

Warning: Minimum Violence. John Walker.

Word Count: 1374

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A/N: JACKET. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Tags: buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree

The aroma of coffee filled the small space of your kitchen, and the events at the restaurant and the fallout weighed heavily on your mind. As you stood by the counter, lost in thought, you heard a soft knock at your door. 

Opening it, you found Bucky standing there, looking slightly disheveled. “Hey,” he greeted, his voice gentle. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay after last night.”

You stepped aside, letting him enter. With a grateful smile, you nodded. “I just made some coffee, would you like some?” 

His eyes scanned the room as if he was ensuring everything was in place as he walked in. “I’d love some, please, Sweetheart,” he smiled, turning back at you. Dark shadows clung beneath his eyes, the whites of them were threaded with red veins as his lids struggled to stay open. “I didn’t get much sleep.” 

You poured two mugs, handing one to Bucky. “I know you told him about John,” you said softly, leading him to the couch. 

“I’m not sorry about that,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Steve should have done more damage,” he mumbled under his breath.

You sighed, sitting next to him and bringing your knees up to your chest. “I just wish it hadn’t come to that. Steve shouldn’t be in fights because of me,”

Bucky turned his gaze to you, softening at the thought of your worry. “That wasn’t your fault, Steve did what any brother would, and John… well, he’s not worth your time or concern.”

His presence helped steady your emotions, comforting you. He had a way of keeping you grounded, making you feel safe. “Thank you, Bucky,” you said, meeting his gaze. “For everything.”

He gave you a small, reassuring smile. “Always.” 

As you found a comfortable silence lacing itself between you, the familiar massage tone of both phones pinged together. Reaching for them in sync, you read the message. ‘They’ve taken Steve in, again.’ Your heart sank.

“Walker,” Bucky mumbled as he stared at his phone, sighing. You closed your eyes, a wave of guilt washing over you. “It’s not your fault,” Bucky reassured you, cupping your face, the cold metal soothing your flushed skin. “Let’s go get him.” 

Nodding in agreement, you raised from your seat and settled your mug down on the coffee table. Grabbing your keys, you began to race toward the door. Bucky cleared his throat moments before you reached for the handle, grabbing your attention.

He held out his jacket toward you, gesturing toward your attire. The adrenaline coursing through you caused you to forget you had yet to change out of your nightwear. Mumbling a thank you toward him, you slipped into his jacket, letting the leather material surround your body.

~

The ride to the police station was a blur, your mind replayed the events of the previous night. Every what-if raced through your thoughts. 

When you entered the police station, Sam, Natasha, and Wanda were already waiting inside for Steve. “Have you seen him yet?” you asked, as Bucky went over to the front desk. 

Sam shook his head, concern shown on his face. “Not yet. They’re questioning him now. They haven’t given us anything, yet.” 

Natasha rose from her seat in the waiting area, her expression a mix of frustration and determination. “He’ll be okay, we’ve been here before.” 

Bucky returned from the front desk, his face masking a barely restrained anger. “Walker’s really pushing himself this time.” 

A confused look washed over your features, “This time?” you asked, gazing up at Bucky, searching for answers in his eyes. “What do you mean, ‘this time’?” 

Wanda put a reassuring hand on your back, “Walker wants what Steve has,” she spoke, and a heavy tension began to weigh in the air. “You know, the authority, the bar’s respect…” she continued as she gestured around the station.

“He’s just trying to provoke us,” Sam suspected, as his gaze met yours, you felt smaller than usual around your friends as you realized your part in this. “He knew getting to you would do that.” 

Your gaze tried to avoid all of theirs, feeling humiliated. Wrapping Bucky’s jacket tighter around your body, you found an empty seat and sank into it.

The minutes felt like hours as you waited. Suddenly, the door to one of the interview rooms opened, and it wasn’t who you were hoping for. John emerged, looking smug and satisfied. His gaze met yours for a brief moment, a smirk across his face. 

Before you could react, Bucky was across the room. He grabbed John by the collar and slammed him against the wall with force, the entire station went silent. “Is there a problem, guard dog?” John spat as he tried to maintain his composure.

Bucky’s grip tightened, his voice a growl. “Listen, Walker. If you ever,” another slam, “go near her again, you’ll have more than just Steve to worry about.” 

“Barnes!” Officer Fury, who dealt with your group on numerous occasions, called out as he approached. “Not here,” the man tried to squeeze himself between the two men. 

Reluctantly, Bucky let go and took a step back. Fury placed a firm hand on John’s shoulder, guiding him out of the station. “Don’t make things worse for yourself.” 

Straightening his collar, he shot one last venomous look at you before turning and walking out of the station. 

Fury sighed as he turned to Bucky, shaking his head. “Keep it together, Barnes. You know the drill, don’t let him get the best of you.” Bucky nodded as he looked over at you.

Within seconds, another interview room door opened, this time, Steve walked out. You immediately rose from your seat and rushed over to him. He pulled you into a tight hug. “You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle with a lace of tiredness. 

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. “Forget me, what about you?” 

Pulling back slightly, Steve looked at you with a soft smile. “I’m good. Fury’s got our backs, letting me off with a warning.”

You glanced over at Fury, sending him a grateful smile as he gave you a reassuring nod. “Just keep it in the bar,” he advised. 

“Speaking of,” Sam smirked as he gestured toward the station door. “Shall we?” 

A sense of relief washed over you and your friends. Following their lead out of the station, you suddenly remember you were still in your nightwear. The warmth from Bucky’s jacket caused you to feel fully dressed and covered the entire time.

Bucky walked beside you, sensing your sudden discomfort he placed a hand on the small of your back. “I’ll take you home first,” he gave you a small smile as you glanced up at him. 

~

As you reached your apartment, Bucky followed you up the stairs, his hand never left the small of your back as he rested gently against it. The familiar scent of your home instantly put you at ease as you stepped inside. 

“I’ll be quick!” you promised, as you turned to glance at him. He closed the door behind you and leaned against it as he watched you make your way to your bedroom. 

“Take your time, Sweetheart,” he said, a playful tone laced his voice as he smiled back at you. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Disappearing into your bedroom, the adrenaline that had carried you through the events at the police station began to wear off. You quickly change out of your nightwear and into one of your dresses, and check your appearance. The comforting weight of Bucky’s jacket still lingered on your shoulders as you replaced it with one of your cardigans. 

Bucky had moved into your living room by the time you emerged from your bedroom, his expression softening when he saw you. “Gorgeous,” he said, a rush of heat spread across your cheeks. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled, as you avoided his gaze, and caught the sight of his jacket draped over your arm. “Oh, and thank you!” You gestured toward the jacket as you handed it back to him. 

Bucky’s face fell slightly as he took the jacket, disappointment crossed his features. “It looked good on you,” he said as he reluctantly slipped it on.

---

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[ashensgrotto]

Why, greetings my dear anon! I’m happy that you enjoyed the ‘Poor Unfortunate Souls’ to read it that many times - and I apologized that I haven’t been able to get started on the Scarbia segment yet (between that and Raison D’être plus work & other stories… and GloMas, I really need to get my priorities straight seriously -_-). However, I do intend on working on it as soon as I can so I can get it out sometime this month or in December - I mean, I think that would be the most logical since that one takes place during holiday break, right?

Now, for your request - I hope head cannons are alright for the time being. I’ll try to come back to them and do short stories for each of them that follows the same concept design as “Am I Feeling Love?” - which is the first installment of the Yandere!Azul series. I'm also going to divide this into two parts - about halfway through I realized I hadn't posted anything in a while and thus, I want to make it up to all of you for not writing or posting anything for some time.

Part 1 (Here) will feature Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, and Jamil Viper

Part 2 (Here) will feature Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, and Malleus Draconia

***

Vil Schoenheit

Vil is a combination yandere - he is both a studdle stalker type, but also a projection type. Of course, in his youth, he was an up-and-coming movie star… famous for the villainous roles he played. This caused a lot of grief in his childhood, not to mention some of the trauma he had endured from other children who believed everything they saw on the big screen - thinking it was real, even though it was just special effects and players playing their roles on the stage. And, even though Jack Howl became the closest thing he had to a friend, there was nothing that he could do to shake the fear of wanting to be ‘the good guy’, the ‘hero’... to be the most beautiful of all.

As a junior in Night Raven, Vil and the rest of Pompfiore were just as shocked as the rest of the school when you appeared. At first, Vil was not interested in what you may have to offer - but ever faithful Rook was the one to point out certain features you had; soft cheeks, a creamy complexion, eyes wide and filled with wonder - not to mention a figure that would’ve had some acting agencies dying for; you almost reminded him the the princess the fairest queen had raised years ago. Vil was reluctant, but stepped forward and offered the headmage a place for you to stay in Pomfiore until you could return home. 

It was at this point that Vil realized that you were more than what you appeared. Whatever he asked of you, you did it - to nearly perfection. Scrub the ballroom flooring? It shone brighter than diamonds when you were done. Wipe down the windows? Clear as crystals. Tend to the gardens around the dormitory? Neat and tidy without a single flower or bush out of line. This, of course, caused Vil to backpeddle a little bit - if anyone from outside the dorm found out about how well you followed instructions (specifically a certain lion or scheming octopus), there would be trouble. Hence, Vil decided to try and keep you close, luring you in like the villain he was always meant to play.

He learned quickly that your home in your world was… chaotic. You often traveled back and forth between two families, plus your grandparents. If you had a choice in the matter - you would’ve stayed with your father and your stepmother full time as your mother and her on-again-off-again boyfriend often mistreated you. You were in charge of the cooking, cleaning, and caring for the home while under your mother’s care and were often trapped in her home more times out of the year. Vil had remembered about Niege LeBlance’s situation when the two stars were children - he could sympathize with your situation - and decided to take you under his wing. Vigorous training began shortly thereafter, and you soon found yourself secured under Vil’s thumb. You, along with Epel, were put through beauty regimens regularly, vocal and annunciation lessons followed classes and chores, and fashion and gossip columns replaced your books at night; and if either of you tried to escape or slip out of something, ever faithful Rook brought you straight back to Vil - a disapproving scowl on his face, arms crossed over his chest, and heeled foot tapping, looking very much like a disapproving mother.

With the arrival of spring and the fast approaching date of the Cultural Fair, Vil’s energy became more focused on the SDC - working long hours into the night perfecting the team for the competition. You did try to help sooth much of the stress that had fallen on the headwarden and offered your assistance in any way you could, Grim acting as your assistant under the watchful eye of Rook. It was also here that things slowly began to take a turn for the worst - after the mention of Neige LeBlance, Vil had begun turning to his phone more often, asking it every day who was the most beautiful of all. Mira always answered… Neige LeBlance.

The last straw was when you and Rook attempted to stop him from poisoning Neige, the vice warden ordering Neige to run and evacuate the premises. The other members of the team rushing in at the sound of Rook’s shouting. Vil couldn’t forgive himself for what he had attempted to do… he was as ugly as the poison that he created. If only he was the fairest… if only Neige LeBlance hadn’t walked into his life again… if only you could understand what it meant to be… the fairest one of all…

Idia Shroud

Idia would also be a combination type yandere - possessive and clingy on a short list, with subtle stalker on the longer list. Not that anyone can blame him of course - his childhood was spent in it’s entirety on the Island of Woe, the next Shroud in line to take up the mantle as the Watchman of the Underworld. He, and his little brother Ortho, were the only children that lived in the facility, spending their days playing video games, reading manga and comic books, as well as creating original characters of their own. However, tragedy struck when the two boys snuck out of their room during a routine lockdown and one of the phantoms possessed the younger brother - Idia’s grief and self-blame pushed him away from others, even after he was able to reunite with his brother… in a technological sense.

Years later, during his junior year at NRC, Idia was surprised when Ortho volunteered to bring you into Ignihyde - as many other students were. When Idia demanded an explanation - Ortho explained the scan he did on you indicated that you had a lot of the same qualities as many of Ignihyde's students. What a drag - but what's done is done, and Idia found himself, not only in charge of a dorm, but an unexpected guest as well.

For the first few months, Idia holed himself up in his room - trying to avoid an encounter with the ‘normie’ of the dorm; the magicless guest of Ignihyde. Ortho attempted over and over again to get him to come out and meet the new member, telling him all about how interested you were in manga comics, fantasy RPGs, and the like - but Idia always refused… until one night during a routine midnight snack run, he ran into you. You were smaller than he expected you to be, the dorm’s heavy leather jacket baggy over your form - also swapping the typical heavy denim jeans and boots for leggings and slippers. Idia was even more surprised when you offered him a large roll of chocolate chip cookies you had picked up from the school store, a smile on your face, “Hello, I’m (y/n). You must be Idia, right?”

And following that first encounter, Idia slowly began to warm up to you. He was drawn to your sassiness and imagination, especially when the two of you talked about video games - Idia even went as far as to introduce you to his online friend, Muscle Red - the gamer excited about having another runner in the mix for events. 

However, what no one knew was that Idia slowly began to worm his way into your online presence. He hacked into your computer that Ortho had provided for you and watched when you were online, who you interacted with, and what you talked about. At first, Idia reasoned it was a way to get to know you - the best way to find out the internal workings of someone was to figure out about the mask you wore, right? But even so, the real pusher was when he was spying on a chatroom you were a part of and one member began insulting you - saying that you weren’t really a gamer, that you didn’t know anything about online gaming, or anime, and that you were a fake… a ‘normie’. If Idia had been standing next to you, you would have seen his typical calm blue hair turn red hot - hotter than the flames of Tartarus. No one was going to get away with calling his friend a ‘normie’ - magicless or not.

In the months that followed, Idia began to slowly attach himself to you - spending more time in your presence than ever before. Then, when he was summoned back to the Island of Woe to test the students that had overblotted, he brought you along with him, keeping you close as each test was conducted, examined, and recorded. The look on your face and the questions you asked him, yes, brought him joy.. But also made him worry - what did you think of him now that you knew what he was doomed to become? Would you eventually end up like Ortho because of his mistakes? Idia didn’t want to think about that… but even so, to be free of his responsibilities… to not have to be the caretaker of the Phantoms any longer… to reset the world… maybe then, you would be safe…

Malleus Draconia

Malleus follows the same combination style - he’s definitely the obsessive, the stalker, and possessive style. Living in Briar Valley, it’s no secret that as the next in line it is his duty to help provide an heir that will take over for him when the time comes. As his mother and father had loved each other before him, Malleus often wished for the same kind of companionship that they had - however it is hard with Lilia away caring for a young human and Sebek, hence the only thing Malleus has is the comfort of his dreams. He dreams a lot, images of a fair young human traveling through the forests of Briar Valley playing in his mind - Malleus far too fearful to approach.

Many years later - during his junior year at NRC - Lilia informs him of a strange individual that has arrived - a magicless guest that is to be taking residence within the Ramshakle dorm that was on the school campus. Of course, Lilia had known about Malleus’ tendency to spend quiet nights in the dorm, listening to the sounds of the old building creek, the windows rattling against the wind… the silence and stillness of the place. Even so, Malleus does continue to travel to the dorm at night, walking around the premises like a dragon guarding his hoard. One night, however, he encounters you - the child of man with no magic abilities whatsoever - and is surprised by how easily you talk to him, without any fear in your eyes, even more so when you nickname him ‘Tsunotarou��. It slowly becomes a habit for him, heading to the Ramshakle dorm each night daily to spend time with you and talk to you - the first friend he has outside of the protection of Silver and Sebek. 

Malleus often sends Lilia to keep an eye on you, much to the chagrin of Sebek - the elder warming up to you and sharing everything he finds interesting with you with his charge - how you love visiting the other dorms, spending time with Ace, Deuce, and Grim, the struggles you encounter… never mind each of the overblot incidents that cause destruction and harm. Malleus then uses the reports to gain your trust, always lending out a hand to help when needed and offering comfort when there was none to be had. You slowly became his secret treasure - something he wanted to hide away, to protect endlessly until the end of your days.

But still… to a fae, a hundred years can pass in the blink of an eye… a thousand years was just the same way… And when the revelation of Lilia’s powers slowly depleting became noticeable, Malleus became lost for words. He was losing the closest thing he had to a father… and you were close to finding a way back to your world. He couldn’t allow that - he couldn’t lose anyone that was close to him.

When the others attempted to stop him - Malleus easily overpowered them. After all, he is one of the top five mages of the world - his power as a Draconia was more than enough to defeat an army, let alone students in a magic school. With ‘Fae of Maleficence’ casted, darkness covered the school - pulling everyone into slumber and keeping them as they were indefinitely. Everyone could be the protagonist of their own story… everyone could be happy… to live in their current state… and he would never be alone again…

[yeonmuse]

MINI SERIES | YANG JUNGWON

CAN YOU HEAR MY HEART?

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : Jungwon falls for an antisocial girl with a passion for music and a love for the stars.

GENRE, fluff, slow burn , smau

( 𝐁𝐚𝐞’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ) : I honestly have no idea where this came from I just thought of anti social Jungwon and Anti social reader coming together and this is where it got me

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𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 @jwonistic @jiamini @sol3chu @river-demon-slayer @butterflywonz @squiishymeow @firstclassjaylee

Authors notes | this series has officially met its end everyone, though I’m thinking about making a special christmas chapter im not 100% I will be doing so. Considering I have Jake and Heeseungs series to start writing. Within ending this i’d like it to be known that every member will be receiving a mini series that all tie in with one another, beginning with this series. Heeseungs being Curtain Call, Jakes being Xo Her sweet kiss and Sunghoons being Love On the Rink. The other members have not yet been drafted.

The girl with the headphones

THE FINAL CHAPTER

Tonight was the night that Jungwon and the film club had been working so hard on, the night had finally come to premier the film they had all been working so hard to pull together. The first viewing would be at heartstrings, with only a selective few from campus. Yn was more excited than anyone, Jungwon hadn’t told her much about the film other than a few minor details when the two began working on it together so she was over the moon to finally see what ideas had been plaguing his mind.

The two of them hadn’t really spoken much since last night, the night they shared their first kiss. Though she knew it was because he was most likely far too busy trying to perfect things at heartstrings for tonight’s film viewing. When It came to his craft Jungwon was completely serious about it, she’d always found herself admiring him or staring at him at the time even the two were working on the project together. Something about the way his expressions changed so vividly when he was focused, made it impossible to keep her eyes off of him.

A knock at the door forced the girl out of her thoughts of her boyfriend as she brushed her teeth. Before she herself could even make it to the door her roommate had already opened it.

“Oh Nessa! When did you get back from your parents?” Chaewon slips inside as if it were her own dorm, something she had done time and time again and both yn and nessa had grown used to it.

“I got back yesterday, the snow storm last night made it completely hell to get back.”

“Are you coming to Jungwons premiere tonight?”

“I wasn’t going to at first but I feel like I’ve missed so much that I need to be there to not miss anything else, besides I need to meet this new boyfriend.”

“You haven’t met Jungwon yet??”

“Nope she hasn’t let him come over here once because she was too afraid i’d scare him away.” Nessa sighs dramatically and holds her chest as if she had just been struck in the heart.

“That’s not true, he always asked to walk me back to the dorm but it’s been snowing so much I don’t want him out in the cold for too long.”

“Oh she’s whipped.”

“She’s been daydreaming about him ever since I got back.”

“That kiss must have done a number on you or something, he’s all you can think about now.”

“Okay okay enough you two, are we going to go shopping tonight or not, or will you both stand here all day talking about my love affairs?”

“Who says we can’t do both?” Nessa shrugs as yn opens the door and both she and Chaewon follow each other out.

“Oh I almost forgot we’re waiting on one more person.” Chaewon pulls her phone from her pocket as the three of them step out into the main hall of the girls dormitory.

“I thought Sunoo was helping the guys with preparations today?”

“He is, it’s not Sunoo that’s joining us.” As Chaewon slips her phone back into her pocket, as if on queue her name is called causing the three of them to whip their heads around to the hallway.

“Chae Chae you did not.”

“Isn’t that the girl from the theater department”

“Long story short, Heeseung has a thing for her and he’s been trying to approach her for months but fails every time.”

“Heeseung? As in Lee Heseung? As in thee Lee Heeseung, that's always flirting?”

“Yup, I invited her to the premier tonight.”

“Chaewon Heeseung might actually kill you this time.”

“He tried to set me up with an obviously straight woman, this isn’t the worst I could do.” As Sakoia finally made it over to the three of them, it was obvious to the three of them why Heeseung had taken a liking to her. Not only could she sing, and act but she was breathtakingly beautiful.

“Were you guys waiting on me all this time? Show preparations ran a little later than usual today.”

“Nope you’re actually just in time. Koia, this is yn and that’s her roommate Nessa.”

“Nice to meet you both, Chaewon talked about you both nonstop yesterday.”

“I didn't know you were into theater Chae.”

“Oh she’s not, the only reason she was there was because the fashion department and theater department are working together for the upcoming show.”

“I’ve never been more stressed out about fashion in my life, theater majors are no joke.” The three of them laugh at Chaewons obvious fatigue having to deal with so many thoughts and ideas having been thrown at her yesterday.

“Should we get going now? We only have 5 hours until the premier and Chaewon takes the longest time picking out outfits.”

“Mm yeah let’s go, or else we’d end up missing the movie picking out an outfit for just Chae alone.”

While the girls had been out and about, shopping and pampering themselves for tonight’s premier Jungwon had been working the guys like it was their 9 to 5.

“How come Taehyun gets off so easily without doing anything?” Jake complains, as he and the others continue making decorations for the tabletops.

“Um maybe because Taehyun owns the place and he’s already helped enough by letting Jungwon premier hops film here and making the menu for tonight’s show.” Taehyun retorts to his complaining in a mock whiney voice as he places a stack of menus onto the diner counter for them to take.

“Fair enough.”

“Where is Jungwon anyways?”

“He went off into the back room to make sure the film was working properly.”

“Film? What is this in the 1800s? Why didn’t he just make it a drive or something?”

“He wanted it to be authentic, like a drive in theater so he had another copy of it put on film.”

“Do any of you even know what the film is about?” They all fell silent before looking around at one another, usually at least one of them would have been listening to him when he’d go on and on about his works, but not one of them knew.

“I don’t think he ever talked about this one now that I think about it?”

They were right, he hadn’t talked about it, the only people that truly knew what this film was about had been them and those that had put the work in in making the film. Only he knew the true meaning behind the film though, but once everyone else had seen it it would become a matter of time until they realized its true meaning too.

Eventually the sun had started to set and all of the guests had come flooding into the cafe. The very last four to enter had been the four girls that spent almost the entire day in preparations for the night. Once they entered they all parted ways, Chaewon going off to find manon, Nessa going off to find herself a drink and yn off to find Jungwon, that left Sakoia alone.

“Are my eyes playing tricks or were yn and Chaewon serious about inviting Sakoia to the premier.” Sunghoon calls out, making both Heeseung and Jay turn towards the direction which Sakoia stood, seemingly on a phone call.

“Oh Chaewon actually did it.” Sunoo laughs as he joins the three of them, he honestly couldn’t say that he hadn’t expected her to actually do it after all it was Chaewon.

“Of course this was Chaewons doing.” Heeseung rolls his eyes, he had been trying his best to act nonchalant, as if he didn’t care but it was obvious he wanted nothing more than to go talk to her.

“You still haven’t talked to her yet?” Jay was shocked to say the least, if there was anyone out of the Seven of them that had the least trouble with talking to women, it was Heeseung.

“He’s tried, every time he has she’s either had preparations for a show or he chickened out on asking her out.” Jakes comment only further annoyed him

“Why don’t you just tell her you have questions about a play or something?” Maybe Sunghoon had been onto something with that suggestion.

“Five bucks says he chickens out or she gets another call.” Jake bets as the four of them watched Heeseung finally approach her with a newfound confidence (more like annoyance)

“Jungwon, are you here?” Yn had slowly made her way through the back hallway of the cafe, knowing that Jungwon was bound to be found in one of the rooms if not out with the others.

She found him standing next to a film camera, his eyebrows furrowed as he rewound the film back to its start in preparation for the film night. She stood in the doorway watching with a smile on her face, her hip and head resting against the doorframe.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Hearing his girlfriend's voice he couldn’t help but feel his heart leap in his chest, pulling his focus away from the camera he turned to look at her. As his eyes fell upon her standing there in her beautiful dress, he felt the luckiest man in the world was no one other than himself. His eyes raked over her figure as if he was capturing a snapshot with his eyes.

“How can I focus on tonight's film when my girlfriend is standing here looking this beautiful in front of me.” As she steps inside the room he closes the space between the two slipping an arm around her waist while the other hand rests on the side of her neck and face.

“You're an absolutely breathtaking baby.” He places loving kisses on her forehead and cheek until finally his lips rests on hers making sparks fly between the two. She couldn’t hide the smile that made its way into her face at his gentle loving kisses.

“How were preparations? Is everything ready for tonight?”

“They went surprisingly smooth, other than a few dramatics from Jake, everyone pulled their weight.”

“It really looks beautiful out there tonight, I can’t wait to see how everything came out.” She smiles and Jungwon can’t help but melt at the sight of her smiling before him. This was what he had waited for from the moment he saw her. Spent months thinking of how to approach her, how to get her attention without scaring her off. All the time he spent with her occupying his mind, the nights the two had been alone working on the sound score, it all led up to this moment. He felt content holding her here in his arms, as no one else’s but his.

“Is everybody here already?”

“Mhm we’re all just waiting for the man that made all of this happen.” She smiles, locking her fingers with his as he stares down at her with pure adoration in his gaze.

“Then let’s not keep them waiting any longer.” He brushes the loose strands of hair behind her ear before leading her out of the room.

As she took a seat amongst the others Jungwon made his way to the front of the cafe to give his pre premier speech.

“I want to thank everyone for coming tonight, the film team has been working on this film very diligently over the last two months. I’ll admit it surely wasn’t easy having to go through so many different changes and rewrites but it was all worth it. Usually the films I’ve made in the past have all been some sort of documentations or darker concepts but this one is a little different than the others, please enjoy tonight and I'd really appreciate any feedback you’d like to give when the film is over, thank you.” Once Jungwon’s shows was over everyone applauds, the guys of course cheered louder than anyone else, then the film began.

The film itself had been everything Jungwon hoped it to be, a silent film that focused more of the musicality than it did the lines, though the very few lines there were had been aced by the actors and actress. A love story of two people that had no one other than themselves. An empty world where only the two of them existed, a girl that loved music and a boy that absolutely loved films. Both walk the world aimlessly, alone until they cross paths with one another and discover that they aren’t alone anymore, they’ve found each other. It was obvious in the film that the guy had completely adorned the female lead. He’d look at her with so much love and adoration in his eyes yet she was completely clueless. Always walking around wearing those same headphones, humming soft tunes when the two sat alone together just enjoying each other's company. He’d show her his favorite movies and she’d show him all of her favorite songs. The two of them became inseparable, completely bound to one another, not simply because they were the only two still walking the earth but because their connection was strong. By the end of the film he confesses his love to her in an empty aquarium, pulling her headphones of her ears he stares directly into his eyes and asks her. For once in her life the female leads world silences, no music, no solemn tune just silence.

“Even if there were a million others walking this earth, my eyes will always find you, the girl with the headphones. Through any crowd, my eyes would only see you.”

The movie ended with those words, leaving a lingering feeling in the audience, a feeling of the unknown as well, or at least unknown to everyone that had watched that wasn’t him or the rest of both their friends. They all knew, everyone knew..the film was about her, yn.

As if she herself had just realized it her eyes met him, full of tears, her heart thumping in her chest. He met his gaze with one of her own and wiped away every tear that fell from her cheek. Then he recited those words

“Even with the millions of others walking this earth, my eyes will always find you, Through any crowd, my eyes will always only see you.”

Authors final thank you and goodbye to this series

Thank you to everyone that has read this series completely through, this has been one of my absolute favorites to write and I’m so sad that it’s now come to an end but I really did enjoy writing this one. To anyone that commented, liked, reposted or even asked to be part of the taglist thank you so much i love you all and appreciate your interest in my series

[petvampire]

The original drabble I was working on that started this whole Cluedo prompt thing into motion. 🤣 A little gift for @anything-thats-rock-and-roll who pointed out that I somehow haven’t written Cat King x Edwin x Monty together yet! (What are we calling these three as a ship, anyway?)

So here we have them, in the library, with the rope. 💖

NSFW

~

Walking in on Monty tied up is not exactly how the Cat King envisioned his day going, but he’s certainly not complaining.

He’s rounded the corner into the expanded library of the Dead Boy Detectives’ office - with the influx of new volumes to their collection, the ghosts needed more space for their books. So the office has undergone some changes, a few mundane, a few magical. They occupy the whole top floor of the building now, and the library is its own room, to Edwin’s eternal delight. The change is recent enough that the ghost is often still found here just wandering, touching shelves and books with a proprietary sort of contentment. He’s very much in his element here, whether curled up to read in one of the heavy wingback chairs he picked out, or poring over the varied volumes to do research for a case.

Right now, he’s not doing either, but he’s still perfectly in his element. A length of silk rope dyed a stormy grey is held in his hands, half of it already wrapped around the crow in an elaborate web of knots. He’s frowning down at an open book laid out on the low table next to him, one with a diagram that he is presumably studying, trying to replicate.

Monty looks utterly calm and unruffled, even with his arms bound behind his back in a way that looks faintly uncomfortable. He’s still fully dressed, both of them are, which makes the scene a little less fun for Thomas - but then, it’s fairly clear at first glance that this isn’t some heated interlude he’s interrupting, but a bit of hands-on practice.

Still, both of them look surprised and just a hint flustered when he clears his throat, drawing their attention to him. Evidently they weren’t expecting anyone to walk in on this bit of… research.

“I’m guessing this isn’t for a case,” he drawls, amusement lacing his tone. A hint of pink crawls across Monty’s cheeks, but Edwin just raises a brow; he’s become much better at maintaining his composure.

“And how can you be certain of that?” His voice is as cool and crisp as ever, though there’s a hint of a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Perhaps I’m attempting to find new ways to subdue potential threats.”

The shapeshifter’s eyes scan over the complex series of loops and knots, more decorative than functional, and he smirks. “Sweetheart, if you start tying up your clients, you’re going to end up with more business than you can handle.” He paces closer, trailing fingertips along the rope where it loops around Monty’s arms. The crow tilts his head, flashes him a teasing little smile, and Thomas can’t resist the urge to brush a quick kiss against his mouth.

He’s too fascinated by the rope to be distracted for long, though. Edwin has certainly got a knack for this sort of thing, those elegant hands deft with the elaborate ties. Thomas is more than a little amused to see that he’s been researching, practicing, since the first use of this particular skill set. He peers over the other’s shoulder to look at the diagram he seems to be trying to replicate, and grins.

“Looks like you’re only about halfway done,” he says almost conversationally to Edwin, running his fingertip up Monty’s spine, the back of his neck, feeling his crow shiver. “Want a hand?” He’s not offering to help with the rope, not really. There are more entertaining things to do than fuss over perfect knots, since he’s here.

The ghost presses his lips together, suppressing a laugh. Thomas is insatiable; he’s not the faintest bit surprised that the other wants to make what was simply a bit of an exercise in improving his skills into something more… salacious. “I suppose Monty is owed a reward for allowing me to practice on him.”

“Lucky me,” the crow murmurs with a smirk. He’s baiting the Cat King, all three of them know it, but the man rises to the occasion with pleasure.

He may not be as adept with rope as Edwin is, but he knows very well how to work with it once it’s on somebody. A tug on the ladder of strands lacing Monty’s arms behind his back forces him to arch, making a small sound low in his throat. “Maybe one of these days you’ll learn not to mouth off when someone’s being nice to you,” he drawls, but there’s no real reprimand in the words. They’re just an excuse to tease, to play.

A little more pressure in just the right places, and Monty is sinking to his knees, spine still arched, head tilted back. Edwin eyes him like an artist surveying a canvas, and kneels down beside him with the rest of the rope. It seems to take him little time to draw more loops and knots around the other’s limbs, wrists bound to ankles by another series of elaborate coils, forcing him to stay in that bent-back position. It would certainly be uncomfortable to remain in for too much time, but neither of them intends to keep him that way for long.

The crow’s eyes are slightly glazed now in a way they weren’t before, when Edwin was approaching the ropework in a far more clinical manner. The long, pale column of his neck is on display in this pose, and Thomas can’t help but take advantage. His mouth wanders lazily over that soft skin, biting and sucking sharp red marks here and there. Monty swallows any sound he might have made, but his pulse is rapid, the scent of arousal far too obvious to the shapeshifter to hide. Not that any of them are trying.

Edwin has pulled back after finishing the last tie, just… watching, but there’s a quiet hunger in his eyes. Thomas meets them and grins again, nuzzling against Monty’s throat. “You know, this really would look better on him naked,” he purrs.

“I was hoping to make sure I could execute this tie perfectly before using it properly,” the ghost shoots back, tart as ever. “But since you’ve decided to move up the timetable, perhaps you could oblige me.”

It’s all he has to say; Thomas flicks a hand, and Monty’s clothes have dissolved into nothing, the crow making a softly startled little noise. The ropes have just a little more slack without the barrier of fabric in the way, but not enough for him to so much as relax. No, he’s still well and truly bound, and now the center of both men’s focus.

The deep grey of the rope looks lovely against his skin, the forced arch of his back emphasizing the lean line of his body. Thomas slides away from him to stand and consider the view from all angles, before slipping an arm around Edwin’s waist. “Looks pretty perfect to me,” he murmurs teasingly into the ghost’s ear.

“You’re a bit biased.”

“Even so.” The teasing exchange cuts off as his mouth settles over Edwin’s, the kiss slow and heated. Thomas deliberately draws it out, knowing Monty is watching - knowing he can’t do anything but watch at the moment.

He can’t help but enjoy every opportunity he gets to tease one of his lovers with another, to play their desires off each other. It’s doubly delectable with Monty bound and practically helpless at their feet, though the hunger in his gaze is nearly palpable. Thomas can feel the heat of it like a hand brushing over his skin as he lazily unbuttons Edwin’s shirt, unknots his bow tie.

He hears Monty’s soft little groan when he finally gets the ghost at least partly undressed, the glimpses of skin beneath all those layers fanning the flames of desire. Thomas’ hands run up Edwin’s chest, and he laughs against his mouth, finally drawing back from the kiss, glancing at his crow.

“Of course, the problem is, he’s no damn use down there.” It elicits a dry laugh from the ghost, his gaze sliding over Monty in that slow, appreciative way.

“Perhaps not. He is rather fetching like this, though.” He bends, and now it’s his lips skimming over the crow’s neck, almost delicately kissing over the marks Thomas left behind as his hands are busy with the ropes. This time Monty moans in earnest, arching into the other even as the ropes go slack, urging more contact.

That, they’re both quite happy to give.

It takes a bit of maneuvering, since Edwin has left Monty’s arms as they are, firmly bound behind his back. But they get the crow back on his feet, then across the room to one of those fancy chairs the ghost likes so much. It takes more time than it should, largely because they’re distracted by touches, kisses, by shedding bits of clothing along the way. Still, since they eventually end up with Thomas settled in the chair, Monty in his lap, Edwin kneeling in front of him, no one is complaining in the slightest.

No one is doing anything resembling speaking anymore, in fact. Thomas is too busy devouring his crow’s mouth as Monty bounces on his cock, whimpering and groaning messily into the kiss. Edwin is too busy with Monty’s dick halfway down his throat, fingers digging into the other’s thighs when his movements grow too quick, too erratic. He’s as slow and methodical as he was with the rope, keeping the other on the edge but not letting him come.

At least, not until Thomas has, spilling himself into Monty’s ass with a guttural groan. Only then does Edwin apply himself fully, bringing the crow to orgasm in what certainly feels like record time.

He sits back on his heels with a smirk, primly wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. He’s still hard, but doesn’t seem to be paying attention to that fact at the moment as his eyes find Thomas’ again. The Cat King looks smug and pleased, but nowhere near sated - par for the course for him, really.

“Now, is that sufficient to keep you from distracting me from my practice for a little while?” Monty raises his head with a start, apparently surprised that Edwin is right back to business, but Thomas just laughs at the faint note of teasing in his ghost’s voice.

“Just how many diagrams did you find that you were going to talk Monty into letting you try out?”

Edwin’s smile is nowhere near innocent. “One hundred and seven.”

Both of them blink at him, astonished, and then Thomas bursts out laughing. Monty rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning. “When were you going to spring that on me?”

The ghost doesn’t reply, just smirks, and Thomas shakes his head. “Well, I think we’re going to be here for a while, then.”

[immeasurablesaladagere]

Team "Kidpulse and his Overprotective Parents"

Series - A Wildcard is Active

-----

Word Count: 4357

Summery: Impulse is the only player on his team affected by the wildcard and he is not happy about it. His team teases him, realizes their mistake, and apologies are made, but not without consequence.

-----

You whisper to Grian: Are we sure the wildcard is working??

Grian whispers to you: absoutlye :)

Cleo raised an eyebrow at her communicator. Well that was ominous, wasn’t it? Especially because she’d genuinely seen nothing out of the ordinary so far. But then again the session had only just begun; technically they had all week to figure it out, but she didn’t like the period of not-knowing. 

But there was no better distraction from that little nugget of dread than their ever-growing to-do list. Their chests were all a mess from the move the previous week; Impulse was working away at a new creeper farm; ideally they would all be in diamond armour by the end of the week, a reliable food source was sorely in order; yeah, that was enough for one week.

A bundle of coal flew past her and landed a few blocks away, followed shortly by a stack of cobblestone. Pearl sat atop their chest monster, the chest monster she was supposed to be sorting, flinging items out this way and that.

“Are you actually organizing any of that, or are we just throwing things about?”

Pearl stared her dead in the eyes as she dropped an armful of rubbish onto the ground. “I am organizing, my inventory’s full! This is our plants chest, all these rocks and things don’t belong in it.”

“Well sure, but they do have to go back into another chest. What if these despawn?” Cleo picked up the coal and cobble and opened chests until she found one mostly full of other stone and dumped them in.

“Nothing’s gonna despawn, I’m not an idiot. Have some faith in me, Cleo.”

“I’ll have some faith when you’re green again, how about that?” She snarked, and Pearl playfully threw a water bottle at her.

“Hey Pearl!” Scott called from the front gate, hoe and bucket in hand, “Any seeds in that chest? I need them for the farm.” 

Back down into the chest Pearl dove, fishing up a brown bag of wheat seeds. “Here you are. Catch!” She lobbed them over.

“Thanks!”

Cleo took a deep breath of fresh air and looked up at the sunny sky, no chaos or flying snails in sight. “You know, I think we might actually get something done this time around. If we haven’t seen anything yet, how bothersome could this wildcard really be?”

“Guys?” 

She just barely caught Impulse’s muffled call from the basement of their tower. She and Pearl made eye contact and quickly headed for the ladder, only to be met with a billowing pillar of purple smoke.

“What the—?”

“Something’s happening down here!”

Pearl rushed to jump down but Cleo snagged her by the back of her cloak, yanking her back before she could do something foolish. “Woah woah! What if the smoke has an effect? Don’t just go runnin’ down there!”

Pearl wrestled against her grip. “What if Impulse needs help, Cleo? Or do we not care about that now?”

“Impulse is light green, you’re yellow. Worst comes to worst he’d only be yellow and you’d be red. That’s not happening, not on my watch.”

At the sound of all the commotion, Scott came up behind them. “What on earth..? Isn’t Impulse down there?”

“Yeah, and this one was about to risk her life going after him. C’mon, everyone out of the tower.” Cleo hurried them all out and they watched with bated breath as purple smoke poured out. There was still no death message in chat, but Impulse wasn’t responding to any whispers either. Her hands were tense and sweaty on her communicator. Truly, she was itching to go down just as badly as Pearl, but the risk just wasn’t worth it. So they stood there, watching uselessly until the plumes of smoke were only faint wisps and Pearl had finally had enough of waiting. 

“Impulse!” She shouted, sprinting ahead of them and hopping down the ladder, “Are you— Oh my gosh!”

Cleo’s stomach dropped. She hustled down the ladder and Scott followed close behind.

“What’s wrong, what’s happened—?” Oh. Impulse was fine. Well, relatively speaking. He was… Impulse was…

Scott snickered. “Oh dear.”

Impulse was tiny. Not the session one shrinking kind of tiny; he was little kid tiny. Maybe eight if she had to put a number on it, but she’d certainly never been good with ages. And definitely not in a situation like this. All she could do was stare as Impulse sat up from the floor and rubbed his eyes with his fists, and it was Pearl who finally snapped them all out of their shock.

“D’awwwww! Impulse, look at you!” She squealed, rushing forward and picking him up like he didn’t weigh a thing. 

Impulse still looked bleary, doe-eyes wide and blinking slowly down at himself. “Look at me…” He muttered, and admins help her, his voice.

Even if it felt a little bit mean, Cleo couldn’t help but start laughing, especially when a look of horror dawned over Impulse’s squishy little face as he fully comprehended his fate for the rest of the session. “Impulse you’re— Oh my gods, this is amazing.”

He started squirming in Pearl’s arms. “Pearl— P’umme down!”

“Oh that’s precious. Grian’s a genius.” Scott cooed, pulling out his communicator and snapping a picture.

Cleo wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. She just couldn’t kick these giggles. “This makes up for the snails, definitely.”

“N-No it doesn’t! I’m gonna kill him!” Impulse finally managed to pry himself away from Pearl and pushed past them to the ladder.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help, little guy?” She teased, and he shot her his best attempt at a  glare as he clumsily pulled himself up.

The three of them tailed after him slowly, because his short little legs could only carry him so fast, grinning ear-to-ear in utter amusement. Cleo didn’t think she had ever been more excited for a session. One whole week of baby Impulse, doing cute things with his cute angry face. Did that mean there were other children as well? A server tour was sorely in order. 

“Stop following me!” Impulse huffed, opening a chest and leaning in comically far to grab some blocks, “I’m just gonna keep working on the farm.”

Pearl snatched the blocks out of his hands and held them just slightly out of reach. “Ah-ah, I think creeper farms are a bit dangerous, eh? Best leave that to the adults.”

“Hey! Gimme those back!”

Cleo patted his head. “I think Pearl’s right. Why don’t we go see the rest of the server, hm? We’ll find you some friends to play with.”

Scott’s eyes lit up. “Oh yeah. Do you figure there are more kids about?”

Impulse pouted, then seemed to realize his mistake and levelled his expression. Cleo smirked. “C’mon guys, I’m still me! I just wanna work on my farm.”

Cleo crouched— she had to crouch— down to his level. “Tell you what. Humour us, we’ll go see who else has suffered the same adorable fate, and you can have your blocks back. Deal?”

The scrunched up think face she got back was priceless, and after a few seconds, he gave in. “Fine.”

“Excellent. And just so we know you won’t wander away on us, pass over the spawner.”

“What!?”

“You heard me. Spawner, mister.”

Something in Impulse’s face changed just slightly at her tone, and he made a big dramatic show of giving her the spawner as slowly and reluctantly as possible. 

“Thank you. Now, let’s go meet everyone, shall we?”

-

Impulse did not like this wildcard. Not one bit. Of all the things he had been expecting when he passed out in the smoke, waking up a puny kid hadn’t been one of them. He might have actually preferredif the smoke just killed him outright, because now his creeper farm was being held hostage while he was being dragged around the server and his team wouldn’t stop talking to him in a high-pitched baby voice like he was a dog. He just hoped that this was what they needed to get it all out of their systems.

“Come on, Impulse, keep up! Or we might just have to carry you.” Cleo said. It might as well have been a threat.

He picked up the pace, grumbling under his breath. He couldn’t even sulk properly, not with these short little legs. 

“Someone’s grumpy.” Scott teased.

“Yeah, I wonder why?” He said flatly.

Impulse stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked around at the forest and the giant trees in thought. Seriously, why? Sure, it was a little annoying being pulled away from the farm; it the one thing he really wanted to get done this session, but there wasn’t really a reason for him to feel as irritated as he did. He could feel instinctive eye-rolls and sharp remarks bubbling just under the surface every time he spoke, the kind of peeved he only got after a few long all-nighters back in Hermitcraft, not for an hour-long detour at most. 

Maybe it was the voice Cleo used when she made him fork over the spawner, like she was talking down to him, or how easily he agreed. Because he wasn’t actually a kid, he just looked like one. It wasn’t like he couldn’t look after himself.

“Impulse, watch for the hole!” 

Pearl grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him to the side, out of the path of a drop into an exposed pond. It wasn’t very deep and the fall wouldn’t have even hurt, but Pearl was acting like she had just saved him from a creeper surprise attack. He took his arm back.

“I’m fine, Pearl. It’s just a lil’ water.”

“Well, I don’t know! What if you take damage easier or something? You’ve got to be careful!” She chided.

Just keep walking. The faster they found the others the faster they could go home. “We still got stuff to do, y’know. You can’t babysit me forever.”

“Not forever, just until we have this whole thing figured out. Listen to Pearl.” Cleo agreed. Before Impulse could argue, her eyes lit up. “Oh, look! I think that’s Bdubs!”

She pointed across the field where, sure enough, a tiny Bdubs and Etho were sitting on the ground outside their base. It didn’t take long for Bdubs to spot them and start dragging Etho by the wrist to come see them, calling their names excitedly. 

“Oh wow, look at you two!” Cleo gushed, “Itty-bitty Bdubs and Etho. Where’s your buddy, Tango?”

“Tango’s an’dult an’ he said he’s gonna get kills this session, so Etho’s lookin’ after me!” Bdubs explained with the biggest megawatt smile Impulse had ever seen. He looked much younger than Impulse, maybe four or five and bursting with energy, while Etho looked closer to his age, maybe a little younger, and a lot more subdued. So there was a range. Impulse was suddenly grateful that if he was forced to be anywhere he landed on the older end of it.

“Oh is he? I trust you’ll do a good job then, won’t you Etho? What with giving this whole parenting gig a second shot.”

Etho chuckled sheepishly and nodded, then he looked over at Impulse. “Wait, is Impulse the only kid on your team?”

Impulse sighed. “Don’t remind me…”

Pearl put a hand on his head, messing up is hair. “Yep, he’s our little stinker! What if you guys had a playdate, huh? Wouldn’t that be sweet?”

Impulse could feel his dignity dying. His face was on fire. “No! No, thank you, I’m good. You promised I got to work on my farm after this, remember? No playdates!”

Bdubs and Etho giggled, and Impulse wanted to go find that hole again and jump in.

It was Scott who finally took pity on him. “Fine, fine. Let’s go to the mountain, I want to see how the Bamboozlers are doing up there. Who knows what that disaster will be like?”

Pearl pouted. “Alright, I guess. Say bye-bye, Impulse!”

He bit his lip and began walking swiftly towards the mountain. He would not be saying ‘bye-bye’.

-

The tour of the server took much longer than Impulse expected or wanted, and it was late afternoon, almost evening by the time they finally got back home. Sweet, glorious, ugly home. Impulse couldn’t get inside fast enough.

“So we all agree we can’t let Impulse play with Mumbo’s kids, right? That’s a disaster waiting to happen.” Scott said.

“Oh absolutely not. Or Jimmy’s. Not that Scar and Lizzie are bad kids or anything, but Jimmy’s just not cut out for parenting, I don’t think.” Cleo added, “What if Impulse came home hurt? Or worse?”

Impulse didn’t like where this bit was going. Normally he was all for a session of ‘yes, and’, but this one was getting on his nerves. Throughout the tour his teammates had picked up an “overprotective parents” persona, talking about neighbourhood mom groups and starting mock arguments with Jimmy and Ren about their parenting styles, and the whole thing was just embarrassing. Especially when his attempts to move them along were met with “the adults are just having a chat, why don’t you go play?”. The temptation to yell that he wasn’t actually a kid and demand his stuff back was strong, but everyone else was having fun. It was just him with a problem and he didn’t even know why. 

So he kept his mouth shut. The teasing would last a day, at most, and then he could get back to normal. And if they didn’t stop, then he would ask them to lay off a bit. He just needed to loosen up, try to lean into it somehow.

While Scott, Pearl, and Cleo were talking away, his eyes landed on the chest monster. The chest monster Pearl had freshly organized earlier that day. A mischievous grin spread across his face for the first time all afternoon, and he crept over and behind the stack out of sight. They wanted a kid? They could have one.

As quickly and quietly as possible he began opening chests and pulling out all of the contents, scattering the well-organized stacks on the ground and mixing them up. Stone with dirt, torches with raw steak and glow berries, tools everywhere. He snickered to himself. He was buzzing with the thrill of doing something he wasn’t supposed to. More items scattered to the floor, and it was only when he heard Cleo gasp that he realized he might have been snickering too loudly. 

“Impulse! What have you done!?” 

“I just sorted those!” Pearl exclaimed, and she actually did look a little angry. The triumphant feeling in his chest shrunk.

Cleo marched up to him and stood with her arms crossed. “Do you want to explain yourself?”

“I… Uh… Was having fun!” It was so hard to think when she was looking at him like that. 

“Having fun? C’mon, man!” Pearl said, scooping up the disorganized items and throwing them back in the chests.

Scott just smirked from the sidelines, finding it all amusing. “I don’t think even an actual eight-year-old would do this.”

And that made Impulse mad. They had been treating him like a kid all day; talking down to him, ignoring him, using dumb baby-talk, and now they were yelling at him for acting his age? “What am I s’posed to do!? I thought I was a kid!”

Cleo levelled him with an unimpressed glare, and Impulse shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. Were they actually mad? Then her expression changed, aloof and final. “Alright then. Impulse, because you messed up Pearl’s chests on purpose, you are hereby grounded. That means no playdates, no outings with us, and no spawner privileges.”

His eyes widened with shock, then with anger. “What!?”

“You heard me. In fact, I think a timeout may be in order. Go to the tower please, for eight minutes.” She pointed firmly to the tower.

Impulse’s head became a storm of emotion. Anger, shame, embarrassment, sadness, every bad thing swirling around in his chest making it hard to breathe or think straight. The idea of calling off the bit, or apologizing, or actually explaining himself didn’t even cross his mind. He only knew one thing; he wasn’t going to timeout. 

“No!”

Pearl stepped forward, frowning. “Impulse—“

His eyes felt sore and burny. “No! I’m not going to timeout! I hate you guys!” 

He turned on his heel and before anyone could catch him he bolted for the gate and ran off into the forest. He kept running even after the sounds of his team calling his name faded away, until his chest hurt and he needed to stop to eat.

He was alone. He was still in the birch forest, but he could see little patches of grass and oak trees in the distance. Finally, he was alone. No smothering teammates, no embarrassing conversations, no being told what to do. He smiled to himself, out of breath. He could do whatever he wanted!

The first thing that caught his eye was a tree, of course, so he ran up to it and jumped for the lowest branch. Then he clambered his way up higher and higher until he was perched on one of the tallest branches. It was a pretty big tree, and he could see really far. He could see the clearing where all the bases were, and the light from where all his stupid teammates were. Could he even call them teammates anymore? Teammates weren’t mean to each other. And, best of all, he could see the pretty pink and orange sunset.

His communicator buzzed against his leg, and when he saw the messages were from Cleo and Pearl he switched it off without looking at them. He didn’t need those meanies. He was gonna have fun all by himself!

-

This wasn’t fun. 

He clutched his torch tighter as zombies moaned between the trees and the rattling of skeletons got closer. He couldn’t see them, and that made them scarier. The wildcard was messing with his head, making him scared of the dark and the monsters and now he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t go back home, even if he knew the way back. If he went home he would be in trouble for messing up the chests and running away, and he really didn’t wanna be in trouble. Pearl took all of his blocks and he didn’t have enough time to stop and get any without being snuck up on, and all he had was a bit of food, his armour, and his sword, which was really heavy and hard to hold.

Maybe he could stay with someone else? But he didn’t know where he was anymore and if he made it to another base, would they call his team? 

A branch snapped behind him and he whipped around to see a huge zombie shambling towards him and one more close behind. He couldn’t fight; all he could do was run. Out of the forest, not safe, not safe, not safe.

He ran, listening to the awful sounds of mobs chasing behind him until he broke the tree line into a field. There were no lights in sight. No bases, no people. He whined under his breath. At least the zombies were gone. 

Suddenly a cloud of purple particles appeared in front of him and without thinking, Impulse looked up.

The sheer height of the enderman looming over him was enough to make his breath catch in his chest. It stared for a moment, tilting its head and long neck like it was confused, then it growled, low and dangerous. Impulse took a shaky step back, unable to tear his eyes away from the purple abyss even as its jaw unhinged and it let out an ear-piercing screech.

He couldn’t run, couldn’t hide, couldn’t fight. He was gonna die because they were right, he was a weak, stupid kid and we was gonna die—

“Impulse!”

Two arms grabbed him from behind and hoisted him into the air as Scott appeared in front of him and buried his axe into the enderman’s side. The creature’s attention snapped to him, and it began flitting around them with a cry.

“Come on, we’re getting out of here!” 

Pearl was carrying him, running back through the woods. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around her neck for grip and watched over she shoulder as Scott struggled against the enderman in the distance. He watched as the enderman vanished, reappeared behind him, and landed the finishing blow.

Smajor was slain by an enderman.

“Scott!” He cried. Pearl held him tighter.

“We’re almost home, keep your head down!” She said firmly.

He listened, just so he didn’t have to see any of the scary monsters or Scott’s fading body anymore, and pressed his face into the hood of her cloak. Tears burned behind his eyes. He killed Scott. He ran away and Scott died trying to save him. He was so stupid.

After a few minutes Pearl stopped running, and the soft glow of torchlight crept through his closed eyelids. 

“Alright, buddy. We’re home now. You alright?” She asked. 

Why was she being nice to him? He just got someone killed. He was caught between wanting to scramble off of Pearl and wanting to never let go, just so he wouldn’t have to look up and see their faces.

“You gave us quite the scare, eh?” Came Cleo’s voice. A side finally won out and he lifted his head just enough to see her through his teary vision.

“Sc-Scott..?” His voice cracked pathetically. Great. Perfect.

Cleo smiled softly. “He’s alright. Do you want to go see him?” She asked, and he nodded quickly. “Okay. But first, you’re not hurt anywhere, are you? Nothing that needs attention?”

He should be. He shook his head.

“Good. C’mon, then.”

Pearl didn’t put him down as they walked to the tower and Impulse didn’t fight it. It didn’t matter if it was embarrassing or that he should have wanted to walk, because he didn’t. His body was finally coming off the adrenaline high and it felt like all of his energy had been sapped right out of him.

Until he saw Scott, lying in bed with a pillow propped behind his back and a tight, pained smile on his face. Not angry, not upset, just worried and relieved. 

And something inside of him broke.

Like a tidal wave, small sniffles turned into heaving sobs that caught even himself off-guard, loud and uncontrollable. He couldn’t take a full breath, catching on hiccups and coughs every time he tried, and that only made him feel worse.

Soft hushes and coos that he couldn’t understand filled his ears, and then he was moving. He went from one set of arms into another, arms surrounded by soft blankets. 

Scott held him tightly but gently, carding his nails through his hair and shushing him. It was humiliating. It was the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him, and he hated that it was actually helping.

“You’re alright, you’re alright… shh… Hey, Impulse? Look at me, please.”

Like dragging his body through honey, Impulse slowly lifted his head to look Scott in the eyes. It made his skin crawl with guilt and fresh tears welled up again. Scott was in pain, recovering off a respawn and still trying to make him feel better.

“There we go. Breathe. Take a deep breath.”

He tried, but he inhaled too fast and broke into a fit of coughs. Come on, Impulse. Pull yourself together.

“Good, that’s okay. Another for me.”

He took another, and then another, until the tears slowed and his chest stopped feeling so tight. All of his energy was definitely gone this time, and he sagged against Scott with a whine.

“There. That’s better now, isn’t it?”

He nodded. It was.

The bed dipped and someone sat on the floor beside them.

“Impulse?” Cleo asked, “Do we maybe want to talk about what happened earlier?”

The fiery heat returned to his cheeks with a vengeance, and he hid his face from her. “No.”

“No baby talk this time. Seriously.”

“Yeah,” Pearl chimed in from the ground, “When you ran off we were pretty sure it wasn’t a bit anymore. It was us, right? How we were treating you?”

It wasn’t accusatory, or angry. Just a statement. “I… Y-You guys wouldn’t stop treatin’ me l-like a kid, a-an’ then when I acted like a kid, ‘c-cause that’s what I thought you wanted me to do, you yelled at me.” He worked through the explanation painstakingly slowly, stumbling over every other word because for some reason talking was super hard. He really did sound like a little kid. “It wasn’t fun.”

“That’s kind of what we thought, too.” Scott said, his voice rumbling against Impulse’s ear. His heart beat steadily, loud and clear.

“We’re sorry, buddy.” Pearl said seriously. “We didn’t know it was buggin’ you so much.”

“I didn’ say anything.” He mumbled. “When I realized I really didn’ like it, I…”

“You were too worked up to say anything.” Cleo finished. He nodded. “Alright. We’ll lay off the parenting bit. If you want to play along, you let us know. We’ll play to you, how does that sound?”

“S’good…” He yawned. Everything felt heavy.

“Let’s start with this. How do we feel about a cuddle party, hm?” Pearl said. “I can make us some more beds, because hey! It turns out you found some extra wool while you were reorganizing.”

That sounded nice. All Impulse really wanted to do was crash and wake up at the end of the session. He felt like he could sleep for a week. “Mhm.”

Soon Pearl had two more beds rustled up, and the four of them were squished together under the shared blankets. Impulse stayed tucked up against Scott, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Was it childish? Maybe, but he could live with that for one night.

"G'night guys. Thanks for lookin' out for me."

Cleo patted his shoulder. “Goodnight, Impulse. Your spawner's waiting for you downstairs for tomorrow."

And all way right with the world again. Well, mostly. "...Finally."

[thejujvtsupost]

Smitten: The First Date

It’s been way too long since I’ve updated this series and I have so many ideas for them coming up. Lmk if you wanna be added to the series taglist!

Notes: F!reader, first official date, anxiety and jitters, fluff. Just really fluffy.

“Satoru you’re already running late, I’ll be okay here.”

“The kids will understand. Do you want another blanket?” Gojo’s class started three minutes ago and he refused to leave his office until he was sure you were set.

You’d been taking up the couch in his office during the day for the last few weeks, it soothed some of Gojo’s anxiety about leaving you alone now that his energy was rubbing off on you.

You nodded your head and Gojo draped another throw over your body. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too much longer before your leg healed so you could freely walk; maybe then your boyfriend would relax. (Unlikely) “The kids rely on their teacher to be on time, but thank you. We should bring in a space heater tomorrow, how did you get by without having one in here so far?”

“You’re always cold, and it’s not that bad usually but I don’t spend much time in here; too lonely. You know I’m not far and text me if you need anything at all. I’ll see you for lunch?”

“Go be a teacher before Yaga decides to hire someone with better attendance please.”

“Kiss first!” He exclaimed and kissed your lips before pulling away with a ‘mwah!’ sound, leaving you laughing at his cartoonish display.

You just shook your head at him while reigning yourself in, “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

“Are you sure about this, Kugisake? It looks like a lot with the flowers on the table too.”

“Girls love surprises, Sensei. Last time Fushiguro poked his head in she was asleep, this is literally the perfect time.” Nobara was putting the finishing touches on the makeshift dining table, while Yuuji and Megumi plated the food- something they took surprisingly seriously. Really they just wanted to impress you. “You should go get her before the food gets cold.”

Gojo followed the directions given to him by the 15 year old girl and took the short trip down the hall.

You were still sound asleep, and he heavily debated on postponing but the kids were indiscreetly spying on him. He couldn’t back out on it.

“Hey, baby, it’s time for lunch.” He knelt down to your level and rubbed your shoulder until you stirred- he hated waking you up. He hated it a little less when you gave him your half asleep smile.

“Lunch?” The coffee table was empty, usually he brought lunch with him.

“We’re actually going on a little mission, you and I. So up you go!”

“‘Toru! Crutches!” He had you in his arms and out of the room before you could even reach for them.

“Nope!” What did he mean no? How long was he going to carry you?

“Ta-da!” Apparently not long. Your boyfriend sat you in a chair and did jazz hands at the display in front of you- you put together then that it was a date. Your first date.

It was all arranged carefully and the food made your stomach grumble. “‘Toru this is wonderful! You didn’t have to do all this!”

“The kids helped, they’d kill me if I didn’t give partial credit.”

“I kinda figured since there’s three mysteriously floating heads spying on us in the doorway behind you.”

Gojo turned around, shooed them away with only some complaints, before closing the door and returned to your lunch date. “I know our relationship hasn’t evolved in the most traditional ways but I still wanted you to know that I care about the normal stuff too. A lot has been going on but I hadn’t even taken you out yet.”

“I wasn’t expecting anything-”

“I know,” Gojo sighed. “But I pulled you into a world you never knew existed and now you’re stuck with my baggage too. I think you’re doing great by the way, you haven’t even tried escaping.”

“Tried escaping- you’re ridiculous sometimes Satoru. Your world isn’t baggage, I know it can be cruel at times but it’s not all bad. It’s just a different experience, but I feel like I found my place with you all; I’ve never had that before…”

“You always have a place where I am, always.” His tone was serious enough to make your heart feel warm. Sometimes Gojo catches you off guard with how much he cares. His silliness is only one piece of the puzzle that is your boyfriend.

“Well I guess it’s good that I wanna be where you are, always.”

You both smiled at each other, and if you chose to ignore the sets of peeping eyes through the classroom window; then that was between you and the first years.

Prev <- Index -> Next

Thinking about making a request? Check my bio and see if they’re open!

[nerdieforpedro]

WIP Wednesday

The last one I did may have been in September. 👀 Been a long time. Haven’t really been writing much fanfic. Stuck on different papers for school. I was tagged by @evolnoomym and she shared ideas so I will too! ❤️ @pr3ttynpiink also tagged me and looks to be cooking up some fun new fics. 🥰

I want to write something for Modern Din and Christmas to go in my series: This is the Neighborhood Din, but it will likely need a chapter between that to make sense. (Every so often I care about making sense). Also more Luke doing Jedi yoga on his lawn and Poe & Finn being boyfriends because I want it all!

I need to write a new chapter of Weddings 101 with Dieter. Kinda left on a cliffhanger and a lot happened in my mind that should be posted 🤣

There’s a little over a month until the DMAMC 2025 challenge is due, haven’t written anything. Actually forgot about it, but fear not! I’ll think of something. 👀 My character is Pero Tovar (I doomed myself by picking him 😭 like the level of difficulty). But maybe I’ll revisit a pairing I’ve done.

Random but working on a Baldur’s Gate 3 fic and bugging @perotovar (Erin beta read for me what I have so far), @megamindsecretlair reads the snippets I send her and @soft-persephone looks at the pics I send her and is honest 🤣🤣🤣). Everyone’s favorite moody (for many a legit reason) and murderous pale elf who’s a vampire Astarion and an OFC. Things that happened between these two: a lot of staring, mocking Gale (everyone’s favorite past time- he makes it easy but also the wizard is really nice insane like everyone else but nice), drying some hair, hugs and some tears. Lots of angst, fluff and comfort. Haven’t decided on smut yet, is likely but I’ll see how it reads.

Didn’t realize that A Safe Place for Us was up to chapter 7 on AO3 and only 5 on Tumblr 👀 My bad. I should be able to post one chapter on here before November ends. The formatting and graphics take me the longest. 🤓

I also have a secret Santa fic things I’m supposed to be working on for a discord group but I also have not started. 👀 Unsure of which direction it should go in. I’ll figure it out, eventually I think.

The first paragraph of chapter five of “A Safe Place for Us”:

Waking up to Dieter takes getting used to for Aisha. It’s not unwelcome, she’s just not used to someone clinging to her like he does. Every morning he stays at her apartment is one where he has his arm and head somewhere on her. Chest, stomach, thigh, back, ass one time because he enjoys scissoring her entrance wider and scooping his spend that drips out of her back in before pumping his fingers to stir his cum within her.

Yeah…chapter five is…a ride so to speak. 👀 Forgot we had a strong start.

I found a WIP that contains Marcus Pike angst:

His romantic relationships and come and gone just like yours but you always had each other. Though, you treated yours as ways to work off the need you felt for your friend. To distract yourself, even when you were with your other partners, you’d think of him during the throws of passion, even when having simple meals and they may chew too loudly. You loathed your behavior toward your partners and your friend, biting your lips to not utter his name while under someone else.

“Marcus…”

Is the only name you want to say but can’t.

Hmm….might be a good holiday one or something. 🤔

That’s the ideas for now. Always a lot and never finished. ✅ Would it be Nerdie if they were? 😎

Have a happy Thanksgiving, holiday, days off of work and stay safe!

NPT: @chaithetics @schnarfer @inept-the-magnificent @yopossum @djarinmuse @604to647 @secretelephanttattoo @magpiepills @maggiemayhemnj @murder-wife @sin-djarin @syd-djarin @morallyinept @westside-rot @tinytinymenace @sunshinehaze1 @soft-girl-musings @goodwithcheese @jolapeno @bluestar22x @clawdee @romanarose @beefrobeefcal @bitchesuntitled @bitchwitch1981

[quackquackcey]

Hiiii! I apologize if you've answered this before, but I just found your Ao3 (and now your tumblr!) and I'm in lerrrrve! Are you planning on continuing your 'The Idiot and the Big Bad Wolf' series? I really enjoyed it. No pressure, I just thought I'd check!

I haven’t answered this before—(I almost never get asks so I was happy to see this in my inbox)! Super glad you’re enjoying, & yes no worries, I am definitely continuing ‘The Idiot and the Big Bad Wolf’!

The WIP for season 2 sits at 53k words rn & I’m…uh…halfway done…? LOL 🤣

I keep writing for events tho so it’s taking a while to write lol, my own fault I know 💀 but here’s a snippet:

---

“You think Scott and Allison don’t know what their priorities are?” asked Stiles, surprised and a little flattered—he’d always thought Derek didn’t get along with Scott because their priorities didn’t align.

“They don’t. Scott wants to save everyone.”

Stiles blinked. “What’s wrong with wanting to save everyone?”

“Nothing, if you have a plan and the means to do it. Like now.” Derek made a sharp turn to the left. “What’s the point in leaving Jackson alive when we don’t have a way to restrain him or change him?”

“Then why didn’t you kill him?”

“Scott got there before me,” muttered Derek. “No sense in beating the shit out of him in a parking lot when the Argents were going to come any minute.”

“Scott’s not here now,” Stiles told him.

“Uh, I don’t like where this conversation is headed,” Danny cut in.

Derek glanced at Stiles and leaned in, one hand grabbing Stiles’ chin and the other on the steering wheel. “But you want him alive, don’t you?” he murmured with a sinfully mischievous smile before slipping his tongue past Stiles’ lips and stealing a kiss.

The Jeep swerved.

Stiles’ face flamed red as Derek righted the Jeep back into their lane just before a car nearly ran into them with an all too satisfied lick of his lips. “You— You’re so—” Stiles paused, then let out a defeated huff. “Is it just me or have you become more… more… I dunno, more of a menace?”

“Is it just me or are you two flirting over killing Jackson?” said Danny.

Derek ignored him. “Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?” he told Stiles, voice dry.

“I just think we could at least try, y’know, now that we have our trump card secret weapon Danny on board," muttered Stiles with a pout. "And then if that doesn't work, uh, don't you have stuff for the full moon that we can restrain him with?"

"Where's the part that I get to kill him?"

"The part where we can't figure anything out and the full moon arrives. Isaac and them need that damn equipment so we can't just restrain him indefinitely, plus people are gonna notice Jackson's missing and search for him, and holy god I'm already getting a headache from this—maybe we should just kill him."

"That's what I've been saying."

"Only Danny would miss him."

"And his parents," Danny cut in. "You can't just kill him!"