#I’m scribbling a lot tonight yes

[timethehobo]

Constant companions.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Need Steven with a freak. Let’s say he’s been dating this girl for a while and he’s ready to take it to the next step. He’s super worried he’ll make you all uncomfortable and stuff when he asks but the next thing he know he’s being ridden till the break of dawn

(I’m ovulating I am so sorry-)

OMG SAMESIES AND I. AM. ✨FERAL✨ RN

Please

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Smut, just smut af, protected sex (implant), oral sex (m!receiving) creampie, overstimulation

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: This lil dress here is what I had in mind for the outfit in the start. (I'm a sucker for sunflower patterns)

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

It had to be tonight. He just couldn't take it anymore. None of them could.

But Steven was the worst about his urges. He felt awkward and worried it would chase you away, the first girlfriend he ever got to finally have; all the others didn't understand his... Problems.

Problems he later learned were triggered by Marc (and in some cases, Jake), but you? You took them in stride, like a duck to water.

The moment he first saw you, his breath had been sucked right out of him. Marc and Jake went dead silent, too.

It was a gloomy, dreary day; the rain coming down in heavy droplets, casting a grim light down on the London streets.

But there you were, walking around the museum, looking at exhibits and scribbling notes in your tiny notebook with oh, so many post-its sticking out, fattening the tiny book until it looked close to bursting.

You were the only ray of sunshine on that day, your yellow dress that hugged your body just right, little sunflowers covering the fabric. Your hair done just the right way to accentuate your face as your eyes studied each artifact and bauble you saw.

To say the boys were instantly smitten was an understatement.

It took weeks of bumping into you to work up the courage to talk to you, and it was only when you came in to buy a rather dinky looking scarab plushie in the gift shop. It's this conversation where he finds out you're in school, trying to become an archaeologist and historian.

Steven's dream girl, and he had hearts in his eyes at every word you spoke.

He couldn't help but blubber out a request for a date, and you agreed.

The rest... History in the making.

You'd been dating for two months, but already he could feel the pull of urges he didn't necessarily indulge in often.

Sure, he, Marc and Jake could indulge in it themselves, trying to take the edge off. But sometimes it felt like the more he indulged in it, the more intense his fantasies got.

He simply couldn't keep tugging his cock for momentary relief anymore, imagining it was your soft hand, your mouth, your tits or something else wrapped around his cock that had him practically drooling: your sweet cunt.

But tonight? Tonight was the night. He was afraid to bring it up because he didn't want you to feel like he was moving too fast; and he could barely function when you admitted you were a little surprised he waited so long. (And teased him a little for how sometimes he just wasn't stealthy when trying to conceal a surprise boner.)

You'd told him that you thought about him too, and that you were more than willing to let him indulge.

But it was from there that you found out that Steven had never actually been intimate with anyone. Jake and Marc had, yes. But poor Steven has just never had the luck.

And that's how Steven found himself in this precarious situation, you on your knees, your pretty little mouth wrapped around his cock as you bobbed your head so sweetly, tongue laving around his length, hollowing and sucking your cheeks with every drag, tracing the vein that ran up the side of him.

He couldn't stop with the babbling praises, the sweet petting in your hair.

Honestly, if you knew he was this weak? You'd have jumped his bones a lot sooner. Probably after the fourth or fifth date. It was rare you found someone who was intellectually a joy to talk to (not excluding Marc and Jake) who was so handsome and sweet to you.

One hand was thrust down into your panties, playing with yourself, dress hiked up so you could have better access as you continue sucking him off, the lewd sounds coming from both of you more suited to a pornography than the quiet air of his flat.

You could feel your orgasm cresting already, but you knew that you didn't want to just cum on your fingers like you had so many times before, you wanted to feel Steven inside of you and god did you want to drain him for everything he had.

Steven made a whine, babbling your name again.

"L-luv, I'm--I'm gonna--ugh--"

He couldn't even get the sentence out before you felt him spill down your throat, his hips bucking suddenly you gagged, carefully adjusting so you didn't choke as he pumped his load into your greedy mouth.

Well... you weren't surprised he didn't last very long...

He immediately started rattling off apologies that had you giggling.

God damn, you were going to enjoy draining him. Maybe Marc and Jake, too.

The blush that spread up to his ears made him look absolutely adorable.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--" He stammered out, covering his face. "In--in your mouth, I--"

With the fluid grace of a cat you climb into his lap, straddling him.

You cup his cheeks and kiss him softly, before pulling away.

"You're alright." You assure him, peppering his adorable face with kisses.

It's when he squeezes your thighs and ruts up into you, his face buried in your neck that you realize he's still hard.

You bite your lip and kiss his ear.

"Steven, do you want me to ride you?"

"Ohgodsyesplease." He breathes out on a whimper.

You hastily line his cock up with your hole and sink down, taking him in inch by delicious inch until you're stretched beautifully around him.

You tip your head back with a groan. He certainly had girth for days, that was for sure.

"I'm... Already close. Can you help me?" You say, giving him a sweet pout that makes his heart jump up into his throat.

"Y-yes, I can--"

The way he keeps cutting himself off makes you want to cuddle him and cover him with kisses, but at the same time fuck him until his legs go numb.

Maybe you'd do the former later.

You pull his fingers into your mouth and he makes a soft moan when you suck his fingers, swirling your tongue around his calloused digits until you deemed them wet enough.

Then, you guide his hand down your body to your throbbing clit, and show him the rhythm that'd work for you best.

"Try to keep it in time with me, m'kay?" You groan, grinding down on him in one slow, languid movement.

His eyes roll back, but he nods and keeps his fingers over your clit, massaging the bundle of nerves in time with each downward stroke of your hips.

Every bit of him had you aching, from his electric touches to his fat cock spearing you open and fucking your weeping pussy in the best way possible, you kicked yourself mentally again for not bringing up sex sooner.

Steven's cock felt far better inside of you than your fingers or your toys at home. He felt hot, he felt real. And real is what you'd been lacking lately.

Whatever Steven would give you, you planned on taking happily. You would--

Your eyes flutter open when Steven suddenly arches his back and hits you deeper than you expected him to; opening your mouth in a quiet cry, no sound escapes as your orgasm hits you and Steven continues swiping at your clit, fucking you from below as you shudder and collapse on top of him as he continues breathing on the hot embers of your orgasm to keep it going for as long as possible.

"Please." He whines in your ear.

"Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease."

"In-inside--" You whimper, biting down on his shoulder, earning a toe-curling moan from him.

"You can do it inside."

He grits his teeth and let's out a hissing cry, veins popping in his neck and forehead as he fucks his spend up into you, his orgasm burning and flaying his nerves raw as he pumps you full.

He drops back onto the cushions of the couch and sofa, breathing hard, desperately trying to drag oxygen back into his lungs.

Reality however, is a cruel mistress and he looks down at where you two were connected.

"Oh, b-bloody hell. I--I didn't--"

"Relax, hon." You giggle, leaning back with one hand braced on one of his knees for support, your other hand trailing lazily down to where his cock still split you open, his cum leaking out around his length. The sight of you sent a dizzying spiral through him.

"I'm safe, promise. I have an implant. Still good for another three years."

The thought that he could keep doing this for three years--

His mind went blank when you grind down on his lap, feeling his cock stir to life despite the fact he was now exhausted.

"L-luv, I... I don't think I can..." He panted desperately.

Your brace your hands on his chest and start bouncing on his lap, grinning wickedly the whole time.

"I'm gonna keep going until I drain you dry, sweetheart. Get comfortable."

The gulp he made was audible in the space you shared, as was the sinful slap of skin on skin.

[itsnesss]

Hi, can I request a Axel Kovačević x reader fic in wich the reader is from Furia de pantera but she is not from Barcelona she is from andalusia (you can choose the province you like the most).

So the reader saw how Sensei Wolf treats Axel and has been thinking about it, and she feels guilty about having done nothing about it. Her team see how she is feeling down, so they say to go out to a bar to decompress, and obviously, she says yes. On their way to the bar, after having a bit of girl talk with Maria and Mercedes while getting dressed, she sees Axel in the beach so she tells them to go ahead and that she will meet them in the bar. She talks with him and asks him to go to the bar with her, but he says no because Sensei Wolf has banned him, so he stays focused on the tournament 🙄

So she invites him to her apartment, and she tells Axel that she saw what happened and that she regrets not doing anything and the Axel kisses her and smut happens (?)

I don't know if this makes any sense it comes from the scribbles of one of my notebooks that I have for when I have dreams that I don't want to forget and is really messy. Sorry if it's too detailed. I don't know how to make a request without giving too many details. And maybe there is a second part to this ask, but I don't know if it's ok to ask it, and I feel like I'm asking for too much 😣

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 | axel kovacevik × fem!reader

summary | the request. during the sekai taikai, you notice axel's emotional distress after witnessing his sensei hitting him. concerned for him, you invite qxel to your apartment where you both share an intimate moment, exploring vulnerability and connection

warnings | mention of emotional and physical abuse, smut, explicit content, fingering, oral sex (fem!receives), p in v, unprotected sex

word count | 1.7 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The Sekai Taikai is everything you expected and more. The atmosphere is charged with adrenaline, every fight a battle for glory and honor, and every dojo striving to prove its supremacy. But while you should be focused on the competition, your mind is caught up in something else.

Or someone else.

Axel Kovacevic.

Since that training session, you haven’t been able to get out of your head what you saw. You were the only one who witnessed it. The only one who knows.

His sensei hitting him.

Axel didn’t defend himself, didn’t say anything, didn’t show anger or pain. He just took it, as if it were normal. And you… you did nothing. You stood frozen, caught between surprise and fear. And now guilt follows you like a shadow.

You try to focus on the tournament, on your fights, on your dojo’s goal. But every time you see Axel, every time you catch that vacant look and his blind obedience, you feel like you’re suffocating.

Maria, your captain, has noticed your odd behavior. During a break, she sits next to you, studying you closely.

"You’ve been quiet lately," she says firmly, as always.

"I’m just tired."

Maria narrows her eyes. She doesn’t believe you.

"You’re not fooling me."

You don’t say anything. You can’t tell her the truth. Because you were the only one who saw it. And because admitting it would mean facing the fact that you didn’t do anything.

Mercedes joins the conversation, crossing her arms.

"You could use a break. Let’s go to the bar tonight."

You want to decline. You’re not in the mood to socialize. But at the same time, you don’t want to be alone with your thoughts. So you agree.

The night air buzzes with energy as you walk through the lit-up streets. Maria and Mercedes laugh and joke, but you remain quiet, keeping pace with them.

That’s when you see him.

He’s sitting on the sand of a nearby beach, his silhouette outlined by the dim glow of the streetlights. Alone, as always.

You stop in your tracks.

"What’s wrong?" Mercedes asks, turning to look at you.

You glance at Axel for a moment before replying, "You two go ahead to the bar. I’ll catch up in a bit."

Maria gives you a suspicious look but says nothing. Mercedes, more carefree, just shrugs.

"Don’t take too long."

You watch them walk away and then take a deep breath before heading toward Axel. The sand crunches under your feet, but he doesn’t react until you’re close enough.

"What are you doing here?" he asks without looking at you, his tone flat as always.

"I should be asking you that."

Axel finally looks at you, his eyes dull and filled with something you can’t quite describe.

"Clearing my head."

You sit next to him, not caring about the sand sticking to your clothes.

"You should come with us. We’re going to the bar. You could relax a little."

Axel shakes his head before you can finish.

"I can’t. My sensei forbade it."

You frown.

"Forbidden what?"

"Going out, distracting myself. He said I should only focus on the tournament."

His words hit you like a punch to the chest. It’s not just what you saw that day; it’s everything this implies. Axel doesn’t live—he merely survives.

"Axel… that’s not right."

"It doesn’t matter if it’s right or not. It’s what I have to do."

You bite your lip, frustrated by his resignation. You can’t force him to change, but you also can’t leave him like this.

"Then come with me to my apartment."

Axel looks at you, startled.

"Your apartment?"

"Yes. Just… come. Let’s talk."

He hesitates for a moment but eventually nods.

"Alright."

The walk to your apartment is filled with an uncomfortable silence. Axel walks behind you, his posture rigid, as if preparing for something. When you finally arrive, you open the door and invite him inside.

Axel steps in cautiously, scanning every corner as though he’s in unfamiliar territory. You sit on the couch and gesture for him to sit next to you.

"I need to tell you something," you start, taking a deep breath.

Axel doesn’t respond, but his gaze locks onto yours, waiting.

"I saw what happened. During training. I saw your sensei hit you."

His eyes darken, and for a moment, it seems like he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t.

"I want you to know I’m sorry for not doing anything. I just stood there, watching, and… I’m sorry."

Axel lowers his gaze, his hands clenched into fists on his knees.

"You didn’t have to do anything," he says finally, his voice barely a whisper. "I’m used to it."

"You shouldn’t be. No one should be."

Axel lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours. For the first time, you see something different in them. Pain. Vulnerability.

You instinctively move closer, placing your hand over his.

"You don’t have to go through this alone."

Axel doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t pull away. Then, before you can think, your lips brush against his.

The kiss is soft at first, filled with hesitation and uncertainty. But then, it’s as if something inside him breaks. His hands, always so restrained, find your waist, pulling you closer.

It’s a kiss filled with repressed emotions, with everything he never says, with everything he never allows himself to feel.

When you finally pull away, Axel lowers his gaze, his breathing unsteady.

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice breaking.

You take his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you.

"You don’t have to thank me. I just want you to be okay."

Axel nods slowly, as though those words are hard for him to process.

"I'm glad you were there," he says, his voice a little louder. I'm glad it was you.

A slight smile appears on his lips. It's so rare to see him smile that it excites you even more. He kisses you again, but this time the kiss is more intense, more desperate.

"I would like to do it," he says, his eyes fixed on you. "I want to do it with you".

You blush.

"Axel…"

"I've imagined it many times," he continues, his fingers caressing your arm. "I have imagined what it would be like, how you would feel under my body"

Your breath catches in your throat. You didn't expect him to say it so openly.

But at the same time... you can't deny that you like it.

"Axel" you say, taking a breath. "Axel, you don't have to..."

"I want," he says, before you can finish. I want a lot.

He looks at you with pleading eyes, and something inside you falls apart.

"All right," you say, before you can change your mind.

Axel smiles, excited, and picks you up in his arms before lifting you off the couch. He guides you to your room with your help.

The first thing he does when they arrive is take off your clothes. He undresses you, trembling a little under Axel's fixed gaze. He takes off his clothes with difficulty, as if he weren't used to it. And when he finally has you naked at his feet, he smiles.

"You are beautiful," he says, with admiration. Exactly as I imagined.

You blush, excited, as Axel kneels between your legs.

"I want to see you," he says, looking at you with an expression full of curiosity. I want to see all parts of you. Tell me what I should do. I want you to enjoy.

You get a little excited by his honesty, but you realize that Axel has no experience in these things. So you take his hand and guide it to your pussy. You place it over your inner lips and apply pressure.

"Here" you say. "Stroke here".

Axel nods and begins to do exactly what you told him, his fingers caressing your lips gently. Then, when he seems more confident, he inserts two fingers into you and begins to move them carefully.

"Is this okay?" he asks. "Do you like it?"

"Yes", closing your eyes. "Yes, more".

"What more?" he says, curious.

"Stronger. Deeper".

Axel bites his lip before obeying, increasing the rhythm and pressure. And while his fingers make love to you, he kisses you as well, his mouth exploring every part of you that he can reach. His lips caress your neck, your breasts, your thighs, until he finally finds your pussy and begins to lick it gently.

"Axel" let go, your hips moving uncontrollably.

"Say it" he says. "Say it. Do you want me to eat you?"

"Yes" you moan, your fingers caressing her hair.

"Well" he says, smiling, and sinks deeper into you.

His lips suck on your inner lips, and his tongue enters you, moving skillfully, making you feel like you're about to explode. And when his fingers return to you, they begin to caress your clitoris, and it's too much for you.

"Axel", your body arching over the bed.

Axel lifts his eyes, excited, as your hips continue to move over his face. Then, before he can stop, you have an orgasm on his lips and fingers.

Axel licks you for a few moments, but then he sits down, his breathing quickened. You blush at his intense gaze.

"You taste so delicious" he says, kissing your thighs. "I love the taste of your pussy"

You get excited by his words, and before you can react, Axel takes your mouth with his, kissing you passionately.

"Axel" you whisper, taking his face in your hands.

"Do you want me to continue?" he asks, with a smile. "I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you until you come again".

"Yes," you say, excited by his words.

And that's exactly what he does.

Axel penetrates you gently, his eyes always on yours, as if he needs to make sure everything is okay. And when you feel comfortable, he begins to move carefully, his rhythmic thrusts.

"Axel" groans "God!"

Axel smiles and kisses you while he fucks you, his lips tracing your breasts and your neck.

"Axel… I'm going to…" you moan, feeling the orgasm approaching.

"Let's go," says Axel. "Come to me"

And you do it.

Your orgasm makes your hips arch over the bed, and Axel keeps fucking you until he also reaches climax.

It spills over you with a whisper of pleasure, and then sits beside you, its fingers caressing your breasts and thighs. You smile, excited by the touch.

"That was... incredible," you say, taking their hand in yours.

"Yes," he says, with a smile.

[sebsbarnes]

Hi there!

I first of all wanted to start off by saying that I’m absolutely obsessed with your work- it’s amazing!!

Secondly, I was wondering if I could make a request?

Can I request a tangerine x reader where they’re out at a bar or something and there’s this guy being really pervy and creepy and just won’t leave her alone?

Obviously the reader can handle herself but they just got back from a long and tiring mission, and she quite honestly doesn’t have the energy.

So of course tan comes to the rescue 🤭🤭

I hope this is okay, and if not please feel free to ignore this!!

Have a wonderful day love and don’t forget to drink lots of water <33

heey!! i really appreciate the kind words, it keeps me going! i hope you've had a good day/night and if not tm will be better! and i hope u enjoy this!

bar fight || tangerine

tangerine x f!reader

warnings: harassment, fighting

word count: 1.6k+

masterlist

a/n: im drawing inspo from something that happened to me one time at a bar which will be the reason tan steps in here but of course tangerine was not there to save me although that would've been lovely

"just one pint! two, two! i swear and then we all can leave," lemon pleaded, "we can leave the second i finish it. i'll even take the last sip on the way out the door," he tried enticing you, rubbing his shoulder up and down against yours.

"i reek, lemon. and tangerine looks like he nose dived into green and purple paint," you grimaced slightly at the bruises forming on tan's face.

lemon grabbed your wrist dragging you closer to the bar doors, "is it even a real bar if at least ten people don't smell awful and your shoes don't stick to the floor?"

the color of your eyes disappeared into the back of your head, "let's go."

lemon did a little victory dance before swinging the door open which tangerine held for you to walk in. the fatigue was riddled on both of your faces. the three of you had just gotten back into town after a long and very successful mission. you were all for celebrating but tonight you'd rather celebrate with a burning hot shower.

"you 'right by yourself? i'm going to head to the balcony for a few," tangerine asked, waving his pack of cigarettes in the air.

"yeah go for it, i'll manage," you replied. tangerine gave you a small nod before turning his back and sliding outside.

the inside of the bar was packed and you were shuffling around with your shoulders pulled in to try and avoid hitting people. it was loud, smelly, and yes, the floors were grossly sticky. it only annoyed you more, but, you tried having a positive attitude about it. 'two drinks' is all you kept telling yourself. after what felt like years you made it to the bar. you were sandwiched against a girl with blonde hair and a guy who weaseled his way in between you and an older gentleman. you could feel his eyes burning holes in the side of your head and the last thing you wanted to do was look over, but, it was becoming too much.

"hi!" he nearly yelled as you glanced over quickly.

"hey," you said curtly, bringing your lips into a straight line.

"i'm craig. what's your name?" he asked leaning in closer to you. you gave him your name, refusing to look back at him as you felt his eyes examine you. the drink you ordered appeared in front of you and you scribbled your name on the receipt.

"what's that you're drinking?" craig asked but you pretended not to hear him as you slinked into the crowd, hoping to lose him.

it worked for a while, you found some space near a wall to stand. there was a group of girls next to you singing loudly and dancing around. you couldn't lie and say it wasn't infectious as one of the drunk girls grabbed your hand and started dancing with you, which of course you joined in. it was fun and it kept your mind off how tired your body was.

"thought i lost you there!" you flinched away, startled, by craig's nervous laughter beside you. you looked down at the man who stood inches below you and gave him an award-winning fake smile.

"you're very pretty," he said puffing his chest out slightly.

"thanks."

"you don't talk much, eh? is it because you're nervous around me?" craig asked his eyes looking down at your legs.

"just tired!" you exclaimed with fake enthusiasm, gulping down the tequila in your cup.

"you seem a bit lonely, are you by yourself tonight?" he persisted, inching closer to you with each word despite you stepping to the side each time.

"nope!" you retorted, popping the 'p' and turning to find the bathroom.

you stayed in the bathroom for a few minutes and finished your drink. the eyebags seemed to protrude out of your face as you examined them in the mirror. now, lemon had to almost be done with his drinks. that man can pound drinks back. so, with high hopes you left the bathroom to go find a seat at the bar and wait until lemon found or texted you or hopefully tangerine was done smoking.

there was a vacant stool in the dead center which you jumped on. your elbow rested against the bar, head in hand, absentmindedly watching the tv in the corner. it was a boxing match that you had zero interest in but it provided enough entertainment. you shut your eyes tight as you felt the familiar, unwelcomed, presence over your shoulder.

"look, i think you are really pretty. hotter than anyone else here and look at me. any girl would want me and the fact you're trying to play hard to get is starting to really piss me off," craig ranted but you refused to turn your head and pretended like the noise of the bar drowned his voice out.

"you're right, i'm sorry. that was rude of me, i apologize. i just noticed you the moment you walked into the bar and i needed to talk to you. you're really beautiful and i know i'd treat you right. whoever you're dating must not be treating you right because i can feel that you want me."

tangerine blew out one last cloud of smoke and tossed his cigarette into the ashtray. it was far more peaceful outside but he knew he had to go in and find lemon, who he knew was more than two drinks in and probably friends with ten more people. tangerine opened the door back into the bar and scanned the room. that's when he saw a man with his hand on your throat.

you ignored craig's presence until you no longer could. he was silent for a few moments after his rant. suddenly, you saw a hand snake into your field of vision and you felt his hand pressing firmly against your throat. you were shocked for a moment before realizing what was going on. craig's thumb and middle finger were applying harsh pressure to your throat making it hard to breathe. then, you felt the pressure shift in his hand from choking to pushing. craig pulled you to the ground by your throat, your body flying backward off the stool and slamming into the floor.

you saw a figure jump over your body and loud commotion next to you but you were too disorientated at the moment from the wind being knocked out of you. one of the bartenders leaped over the bar and pulled you up and shielded you from the commotion. that's when you realized it was tangerine who had hopped over and started beating craig to the floor. it was like a scene straight out of the boxing match you were just watching. tangerine towered over craig in height and build and the anger in his face was terrifying.

tangerine was throwing the smaller man across the bar with punches. he'd punch craig in the face to which he stumbled and then tangerine would trip him. his body would fall to the ground and tangerine would pick him up by the shirt before launching him into the now vacant stools.

"please!" craig pleaded, blood running from his eyebrow. tangerine grabbed the back of his neck and slammed his face into the bar.

"you like hurting women? huh?" he screamed, "you think you're so tough, look at you now! fuckin' pathetic piece of shit. what? it's not fun being picked on and harassed?"

tangerine was raging. his face and chest were red with anger and the vein in his forehead pulsated. he had wild eyes similar to when he was on a mission. you watched as he slipped his hand into his pants pocket, slipping on his brass knuckles. before he was able to crush the bastard's nose lemon swooped in from behind and grabbed tangerine's bicep. the bouncers from outside grabbed craig by the neck of his shirt and kicked his bloody body out of the bar. lemon's hands were on tangerine's shoulders trying to calm his brother down. finally, tangerine's chest rose and fell at a normal pace and he turned his head and noticed you. lemon released his shoulders letting him walk to you.

tangerine cupped your face and craned his neck down a bit, "are you alright love?"

you laughed slightly uncomfortable that a big scene was made because of you, "yeah... just shocked really."

"did he hurt you in any other way?" he asked with softness.

"no. no... i didn't think it would turn into that. he had been bothering me the whole time i should've been more forceful but i was just too tired to really care," you sighed.

"no," tangerine said sternly, now eye level with you, "none of this is your fault, okay? that prick should know better than to continue to harass someone who is clearly not accepting their advances. and the fact he fuckin' put his hands on you. fuck i'll..." tangerine gritted his teeth now standing upright and looking towards the door craig was kicked out of.

"tan! no. you getting arrested is not worth it. i'm okay, okay? he got what he deserved and i really don't want to be here any longer," you pleaded, grabbing onto his forearm to force him to look at you.

tangerine caressed your head, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and anger. tangerine guided you outside and when the door shut he pulled you into a tight but gentle hug, mindful of your back.

"i'm so fuckin' sorry love. i should've stayed with you the whole night," he whispered into your hair.

you pulled back from the hug, "mmm no, hey, hey- that's not what we are going to do. you have nothing to be sorry for and i'm thankful for you and not just now when you beat dickheads up for me, but always."

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

I feel like with valentines day coming up a cute little blurb request would be Garrick x reader for valentines day. Maybe mixed in with over protective Gar or mates dragons

Cupid

Even after almost two years of being together Garrick still found himself wondering why you stuck around to date him. You two were so polar opposite at times that there wasn’t a person who hadn’t frowned at the knowledge that Basgiath’s sunshine was dating an absolute thundercloud.

“When do you finish?”, you felt a warm palm sliding over your middle. A smile sped over your concentrated face in an instant. Tilting your head up you were met with your boyfriend’s sharp feathers. “In about an hour”, you muttered, wanting nothing more than to turn towards him and snuggle into his chest but as the rules outside your bedroom and friend group stated - that wasn’t an option.

Garrick pressed his lips against your temple, “That works for me”, he muttered. “Do we have plans for tonight? Cause I don’t remember us…”, you trailed off, a pang of guilt shooting through you. It wasn’t his birthday. Wasn’t your anniversary. What had you missed? “We do and no, we didn’t talk about this so you don’t need to worry your pretty little head over it”, Garrick muttered quietly.

You scrunched up your nose at him not feeling satisfied with his answer. “Don’t do that”, Garrick grumbled, “Do what?”, you crossed your arms over your chest not dropping eye contact. “Don’t act all cute”, his palm slowly raised your chest and over your neck, “Because I can’t kiss you like I mean it in front of everyone”. You snickered, “Looks like a you kind of problem, Gar”, you tapped his shoulder before turning your attention fully on the class.

Navigating fully on the guidance scribbled on the paper you made your way towards the creek. No one went there, even if the view was breathtaking. Xaden had rules around the place. That place was not to be messed with. That place was the only untarnished memory he had of his parents happy. So the fact that you were walking there had you frowning slightly. Sure, he was a friend, brother even to both you and Garrick but you doubted…

You stopped in your tracks. Not even oxygen got through your lungs. You blinked a couple of times trying to chase the dream away. It was a dream. Had to… “Close your mouth baby, or you’ll catch a fly”, Garrick's sweet voice found you. “What. Is. This”, you voice every word so sharply as if it was a chore in itself to speak.

“Come and see for yourself”, Garrick mused, waving you over. “I…”, you muttered, “Do you have a fever?”, your hand found Garrick’s forehead the moment you were close enough to touch him, “Or maybe you are not Garrick”. Your boyfriend rolled his eyes, “You’re making it sound as if I never do anything for you”, he wasn’t hurt by your comment of course. He knew that he wasn’t exactly a teddy bear. He didn’t do cute.

“You do yes… but…”, you looked around. Everything from the knitted blanket. The flowers. A basket filled with food. “This looks like Cupid puked all over it and you Garrick… You don’t do cupid”, you muttered, still slowly taking in the cute date that awaited you. Garrick nudged you closer to him, “Right, but I can do cupid for you even if it physically hurt me to lay down that pink monstrosity”, he huffed making you let out a giggle before you pulled a serious look, “I’m proud of you for enduring it”, you nodded at him.

“I can endure lots of shit for you, baby”, his rough hands, pushed loose strands of your hair behind your ear. “I know and that means the world to me”, you cupped his cheeks, leaning in to kiss his lips softly. Another thing you taught him through your relationship. An act of slow love. One that always waited there for him. One that he didn’t have to hold in a chokehold.

“Come sit down”, he motioned for you when you two finally pulled apart. Making a quick work of it Garrick had filled up your plate with food. Nearly arranging it all. A strange habit of his. You would never assume that the man was a neat freak but here you were. “Why are you looking at me like that?”, Garrick muttered after catching your gaze. “Thinking about how I would love to put you in that pink sweater Violet made Xaden wear”, you mussed. “Yeah, you can sure try but I doubt we would love the outcome of that”, Garrick grumbled, making you chuckle, “What would you do? Tie me to a bed?”, you shook your head, watching as Garrick raised one of his eyebrows. Catching on what was brewing in his head, “Didn’t even think about it, Tavis”, you warned him but the smirk on his face told you that he, as always, wasn’t in the mood to follow orders.

[valentine-cafe]

i’m back.. and thinking about the herrera husbands, 209 haitao, 9819 jingyi, and valerius with a reader that like, would sit with them quietly and is doing their own thing until suddenly they just get up and burst out into singing from a musical, and then just sits back down to continue what they were doing. i think it’s just silly but AHRHWHH

˖⁺. ﹙ multi monster boyfriends  x gn reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . music time !! 🍒 :  various monster characters

you randomly break out into music in front of your monster lover! how do they react?

﹙ herrera husbands 209. ﹚. . . moulin rouge lover !! 🍒: You’d sat down by them peacefully, sketchbook in hand while you enjoy the quiet of the mansion. The dogs and beatrice sleeping, while you and your husbands sat in serene peace. Each of you doing your own little thing.

Jìngyí sat and scribbled poetry across a fresh new papersheet pulled from the pile, while Rishen was enjoying his hot cup of chocolate, watching the fountains of the manor.

Then suddenly, the peace was too much, and you had to stand up and break into some sort of noise. What’s better than giving your husband the little wakeup call, with some good old moulin rouge

“Roooooooxane, you don’t have to put on that dress tonight!”

Each of them point their gazes in your general direction almost immediately, as you waltz away singing your song, marching towards the kitchen with the dogs following behind you. Now awake and demanding food.

 

﹙ haitao 209. ﹚. . . epic enthusiast !! 🍓 : He’d been quietly writing up on some leftover workpapers from the day before. Dioxazine following each and every movement of the pencil scratching across the homemade paper, while enjoying your presence next to him. Doing your own thing.

He hadn’t exactly followed up too much on what you were up to. A little caught up in work, but he turns his head around and watches you doing your favourite pass time hobby.

It brings just the slightest of smile to his face, he dares not smile fully. You bully him each time you catch him giving you heart eyes and puppy smiles. Yet his eyes widen at the suddeness of your abrupt break of silence as you sing:

“OOOOOOOOOH ODYSSEUS, WAAAAAAITING, WAAAAITIN-” You feel a hand slapped across your face while he hides a slight grin into his hand. Decieving you with hooded eyes of disappointment, yet revealing his true opinion at his words.

“You are a theatre kid on the highest levels.” He takes a moment to pause in his words and removes the hand from his mouth “I adore your singing. but please, baobei, quiet down a bit. “

 

﹙ jingyi 9819. ﹚. . . chicago !! 🍒 : Was tinkering around to work on his latest invention, yet did so calmly and with quiet and swift movements around his laboratory.

All while you sit and read in the corner, swaying your foot from side to side, while smiling to yourself at the comfortable silence you and your boyfriend keep between each other.

Although. . . It’d been quiet for a while now, had it not? Well sure, there was sometimes the occasional small talk and little inside jokes thrown around here and there. But eventually, you started having enough of the silence and slowly stood up from the small corner seat you’d been sitting down on.

March over to your boyfriend you did indeed. Grab him by the waist and pull him with you out on the floor, while he stares at you, baffled and confused, until he realises what you’re doing.

“Baobei, I love whenever we get into musicals but I just ne—”

“oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, they both. . .”

 

﹙ valerius. ﹚. . . hadestown !! 🍓: Quiet time was something that the demon valued quite a lot when it was together with you. He’d be hexing golds and jewlleries for fools that wish for power, that will slowly curse them more and more each time the accessories are worn.

All while you sit and do your own thing. Most often by the loom, working away at tapestries and beautiful pieces of art.

He’d taught you how to use this loom in particular, whether you know how to use one prior or not.

This one was special, it loomed the beauty of your soul with it as you worked. Each image you made matching the exact one you had in your head when first imagined.

And yet, sometimes, he found in the quiet, you’d suddenly had enough and would break into song. One of the first signs would usually be slight shifting and a little throat clearing.

Today is one of those days, he figured. Ears perked up, as you clear your throat and shift in the seat. And you begin to sing.

“Once upon a time, there was a railroad line.”

“Don’t ask where, brother, don’t ask why,” He joins in merrily, sorting out the last hex on the necklace in his hand, before rising from his seat to join you. Arms swooping you into dance.

[abilouwrites]

THE BEFORE, AND THE AFTER

SERIES MASTERLIST

2

I clock in again the next day, the same routine. A familiar face in Dynamight; Bakugo Katsuki’s room. A woman who I assume is his mother fretting over her son. Bringing him water, and knitting as he sleeps.

“Are you one of Katsukis nurses?” She asks as I walk into his room, hair clipped up as I check the IV and his BP.

“Yes” I respond, “has he had any complaints about pain? Headaches?” I ask her. She scoffs and shakes her head.

“No, not that he’s told me. He’s stoic like that; doesn’t let anyone know he’s in pain. It can be very annoying” she smiles a little, greying hair loosened around her shoulders. She leans back in her chair and sighs

“They make the worst patients, the cast is off and I think some physical therapy will help with function in that wrist. Do you want that contact?” I ask and she nods, “I’ll put it in his chart”

“Thank you” she squints her eyes to see my name, “Y/l/n, that’s a beautiful name.. your husbands?” She asks

“No” I say weakly, “I’m single” I hear her tsk and shake her head.

“That’s such a bummer, you’re so beautiful” she murmurs, “ah, I’m so sorry.. I must be wasting your time.. I’m sure you have other patients to see”

I shake my head, “it’s all good, I’m hoping by tonight he should be able to go home. Do you know if he has someone who can take care of him?”

She shakes her head, “no, I’ll have him stay with me and my husband. Will that work?”

I nod, “just for a week. The neurologist is still nervous about that concussion but he should be fine to be at home on bed rest”

She nods and thanks me as I walk back to the nurses station. Which is typically how my days go, I sit and finish charts online.

Bakugos mother leaves that afternoon to go home and shower, “how are you feeling?” I ask stepping into his room once again.

“Like I got hit by a bus and you won’t let me leave” he groans, shifting from the bed to stand. Leaning on his portable IV drop, “what? Am I not supposed to be walking?”

“I guess. Only if you don’t mind me walking next to you. I’m required to do so” I explain as he slowly walks out of his room.

He rolls his eyes, “I don’t get why I feel like this.. only my arm was hurt right?”

I shrug, “you were hit very bluntly in the chest— and you have been bed ridden for a day so it’s all very expected” I watch him nod and slow his pace.

“Y’know my mom asked about you” He speaks softly, a little wheezy and with a soreness to his step, “she’s nosy like that”

“I’ve heard” I raise my eyebrows, “let’s turn back now”

“No I can keep walking”

“We’re turning back”

He huffs and pouts a little before following me back to his room, I help him sit back down and he has this shut eye look about his face, “do you want some more painkillers?” I ask, “we’re trying to ween you off but if you’re in a lot of discomfort.”

He shakes his head, “no. I’m fine. How much longer until I can be back on the streets?” He asks.

“I dunno, you’d have to ask your doctors. I’m just a nurse” I tell him once again, “but you should be going home tonight”

“Y’know, I’ll miss our talks” He teases, a running gag that I do my charts with him when his mother is home. Someone to keep me company.

“Yeah, sure you will” I roll my eyes as I sit down and flick open a chart and begin scribbling some notes down.

“Why didn’t you become a doctor?” He asks, sitting up and looking at me, “you’re very smart”

I shake my head, “mom pushed me into it, said it’d be easier to keep working when I uh eventually get married.. if that ever happens”

I hear Bakugo laugh, “you’re twenty sixish? You have years until you need to get there”

I smile at him, “yeah yeah, tell it to her.” I shake my head a little and look out the window and see no-one. Which is fairly usual as the halls up here are empty. We keep the nurses few as to prevent leakage and paparazzis.

“I’ll miss this, but I am so ready to not eat hospital food” he jokes. There’s a seriousness to his face and he shifts a little, “hey mom” Mitsuki walks in and smiles.

“Y/n!” I’m quick to stand and tuck my chart into my armpit before wrapping her in a tight hug, “I’m here to bring Katsuki home” she smiles. In the two days I haven’t seen her she’s cut her hair. It falls just at her neck and she looks a little more rested.

“Yes, he’s told me”

“You were an absolute doll and a wonderful nurse, when he gets hurt again I’ll be hoping you’re on his case”

“Thank you Mrs. Bakugo, but I hope I won’t see him for a long time”

I wave goodbye to her and Bakugo as she slowly wheels him into the elevator, and maybe I’ll miss him. Maybe just the slightest bit.

And so I drive home in my crappy little car to my apparent. Which is how my nights usually go, some left over pasta and chicken that Suki made while her boyfriend was staying with us. It’s good and just enough to push me through to shower and detangle my hair.

Suki comes in my room as I slip into my sleep shorts and begin braiding my hair, “hey cutie” she smiles as she jumps onto my bed and lays down. She’s only twenty and has picked up the little sister act perfectly. She sniffles a little and stares at me, “how was saying goodbye to your boyfriend?” She teases a little— although not knowing who the person is I’ve told her about the guy I’ve been keeping company throughout his stay.

“It was fine? He’s not my boyfriend you know” I correct as I tie off the braid and lay down next to her, “and I ate your leftovers”

“You suck” she groans. She rolls over and stares at me, “are you going to bed?”

“Yeah, don’t you work early tomorrow?” I ask and she nods, getting up. But not before stealing my moisturizer and blowing me a kiss goodnight.

“Goodnight Suki”

[ternfic]

The Atlantis Expedition

Chapter Twelve: Dust and Shadows

It had been quite a trick to get Business to leave the other room, nearly ending with Metalbeard physically hauling him out. He’d insisted on them letting him at least finish taking pictures first- the walls were covered with texts carved or painted onto them, and he was eager to translate them. “Why don’t ye give that brain of yers a rest?” the captain suggested, looking rather concerned.

“You seriously expect me to be able to sleep when I have something this fascinating to study??” Business protested. “What if there’s clues in here on the temple? I didn’t find much at the last one, you know.”

“…Ye’ve got two hours,” Metalbeard allowed.

“Would you mind doing it in the captain’s cabin?” Emmet asked. “I’m ready to crash.” He emphasized it with a yawn and a stretch.

“Sure,” Business agreed easily, and practically ran back onto the ship to get started.

“I’ll keep watch with you,” Bad Cop told the pirate.

“Ye sure about that, lad?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gone forty-eight hours or longer without sleep. I’m pretty well used to it. Besides, I don’t think I can sleep either, not with the threat of those sky pirates out there.”

Metalbeard waited until the rest of their friends had retreated to their cabins for the night before speaking again. “Avoidin’ sleep ain’t the way to go about fixin’ yer nightmare problem.”

“That’s not it,” Bad Cop sighed. “I just have a lot on my mind tonight. I promise.”

“Well, alright then…” Metalbeard didn’t speak again, picking up on his introspective mood, and decided to leave him be.

The dizzy spells were increasing in frequency, but with them were coming back vague bits and pieces of memories, so old he wasn’t certain of the reality of them, but something about his current situation just felt familiar. Like when he and Alastar were just toddlers, still trying to figure out how to switch out with each other. Dizziness had been common then, back when they hadn’t been quite strong enough mentally yet to manage it.

It was unnerving. Good Cop was still gone, he could feel his twin’s absence clearly. So why did it feel like… he might have someone to share headspace with again…?

It was a terrifying, reckless, and stupid idea, but he did it anyway. He closed his eyes and ‘reached’ back into his own mind, searching. Hello? Alastar, please tell me if that’s you…

…hI.

He sucked in a sharp breath, going rigid. It was a good thing Metalbeard had wandered away some time ago; he could not deal with the questions right now, he had too many of his own. Letting out a shaky breath he raked his fingers through his hair, trying to calm his rattled nerves.

He was going to have to speak with Lucy at some point the next day.

Even with two of their toughest keeping watch for the night, between the anticipation of an attack and the excitement of exploring the new temple, no one rested easily. Everyone was up bright and early the next morning, even Benny. Business was still poring over the photos at the breakfast table, scribbling down translations as fast as he could decipher them. “What did you find out?” Benny asked, sitting next to him to peer at his notes.

“That machinery you guys repaired last night? That’s some pretty heavy-duty stuff- it looks like it might cause the entire temple to shuffle and reform its layout, something like a giant Rubik’s cube.”

Emmet’s eyes went wide. “No way, that’s awesome!”

“I also found this.” He opened the photo gallery on his tablet and flicked it to a certain image.

“It just looks like the same carvings that were all over that room,” Lucy said. Wordlessly, Business zoomed in to reveal a cleverly hidden hole.

“It looks like a keyhole!” Unikitty exclaimed. “Maybe that’s what the Thing is for?”

Bad Cop sat at the end of the table, mug of coffee in hand, sipping at it as the others crowded around Business’ notes, only half paying attention to the conversation. “Hey,” Benny said suddenly and he jumped, because what the heck, wasn’t he just at the other end of the table? The astronaut snickered. “I thought spacing out was my thing,” he teased, and Bad Cop scowled at him. “Seriously though, you okay? You’re not falling asleep on us, are you?”

“I’m fine,” he grumbled.

“You don’t look fine,” Benny persisted. “In fact you look downright distracted.”

“It can wait, Ben.”

“Well, if you say so…”

“Look,” Bad Cop relented. “I wasn’t lying when I said I was concerned about those sky pirates catching up to us. Let’s just get this temple figured out, and then I’ll talk when we’re on our way to the next, alright?”

Benny grinned, floating upward. “Fair enough. Let’s go!”

Breakfast was hastily finished, and they hurried back into the temple. Lucy took off the chain with the key on it, sliding it in where Business pointed out. As soon as it was in place, something clicked, and she quickly yanked it back out as the door began to slide aside. Almost immediately the entire structure began to shudder, and they hurried through the opened door. Emmet nearly lost his footing when the floor gave a sudden lurch and the room started to slide. “Whoa!”

As soon as the temple settled again, another door opened, showing the way through. Business grinned. “Game on!” he shouted, and ran through the open doorway. The next room had three closed doors, each with a hole that matched Lucy’s key.

“Which one do we pick?” Unikitty asked.

“I don’t think it really matters,” Business answered. “From what I was able to translate, there is no wrong path, just different challenges.”

“Let’s open the one to the left then,” Lucy decided, and unlocked it. They continued on through the temple, every other room having a locked door or a building-related puzzle to solve. Every time they completed a challenge, the temple would reshuffle itself.

“I’m starting to wonder if this is a test of our patience as well,” Bad Cop grumbled. “How long have we been at this now? I lost count.”

“I be gettin’ the feeling we’re nearly done.”

“Guys, look! There it is!” Unikitty shouted as the last door slid open. “We reached the heart of the temple!”

“Oh thank goodness.” It was much like the sealed-off chamber in the first temple, nearly identical in its layout. Unikitty made straight for the magic generator to turn it on, as Business took photos of the script on the walls. She waited until the secret compartment popped open, revealing another key, this one made of stone and copper and rubies. She conjured another chain for it, and Lucy slipped the key onto it.

“You want to take this one, Unikitty?”

“Sure!” she chirped, and Lucy slipped it around her neck. Unikitty struck a pose, grinning, as Business turned his tablet in her direction to get a picture of the key. He chuckled as he turned it around to show her. “Ooh, that’s a good one,” she preened.

Benny floated over when Metalbeard made a sound of frustration. “What is it?”

“These symbols! They’re not makin’ any sense to me! There ought to be a map here, I’ve no idea what this nonsense be!”

The astronaut snickered. “Easy there, captain, we’ll figure it out.”

“I got a picture,” Business offered, holding up his tablet. “I think everyone’s a little frazzled from this gauntlet run right now, we can give it another look in the morning.” Lucy unlocked the door at the opposite side of the room, revealing a spiraling staircase back down to the main chamber. They had barely set foot outside of the temple when they were caught off guard by a sudden blast, and Metalbeard collapsed.

“Not again!” the cyborg captain howled in outrage.

The sky pirates descended en masse, half the crew holding the Master Builders at gunpoint while the other half searched them. Airheart smirked at them. “Fancy meeting you all here,” she drawled. Bad Cop’s fists were clenched, and Unikitty flashed scarlet. She barely managed to refrain from losing her temper; trashing robots was one thing, but she couldn’t afford to cause that kind of damage to living people. “No chair this time, Bad Cop?”

“No one invited you,” Benny growled. “Get lost.”

“Oh we will, just as soon as we have what we came for. Ah! My, those are nice necklaces you have there, ladies. Hope you don’t mind me helping myself.”

Lucy assumed a defensive pose, to a chorus of guns clicking. “We’d mind quite a bit.” Just as she wound up to strike, a shot fired near her foot, and she froze. Those weren’t the lasers that Bad Cop used, that just hurt a lot if one hit you. Those were actual bullets. Airheart smirked at her.

“Now you’re getting the picture,” she said, and snatched the chain from around Lucy’s neck. Unikitty’s was next, and she plucked Business’ tablet from his hands as well, despite his protests. “Thanks for the gifts, darlings, we’ll put them to good use!” She blew them a kiss before once more boarding the Sky Rogue, her crew keeping their guns trained on the Master Builders as they followed.

As soon as they were clear, Unikitty screamed in rage, kicking up sand and stone in her fury. Bad Cop made a beeline for his car, and let out a wordless snarl when it wouldn’t start. Benny pouted when his spaceship yielded the same results. There was no chance of pursuit that time.

Emmet watched helplessly as Benny and Metalbeard sulked, and Bad Cop kicked his chair across the deck. “…What should we do now?”

“Nothin’ we can do but wait,” Metalbeard grumbled. Emmet helped Benny and Bad Cop get Metalbeard seated upright. “Smart lass, using that electro-magnet thing to slow us down rather than an actual cannon.”

“She must know we’re Master Builders,” Lucy guessed. “She would have guessed we’d have the holes patched up quickly enough.”

“My spaceship…” Benny whined, and Bad Cop grumbled in agreement.

“Oh, ease up you two, I’ve got plenty of spare parts to repair them both,” Business waved them off. “I kept them in my EMP-proof case, after Metalbeard mentioned her using it that first time, I thought she might favor that weapon and took precautions.”

“And what good will that do in getting us that tablet back?” Bad Cop snapped. “By the time we’re done, she’ll be long gone!”

“It really is a good thing I was the last one out of the temple.” Business gave him a smug smirk as he slipped his smart phone from his pocket, flipping it up for Bad Cop to see. “The miracle of technology. I have them synched.” He brought up the picture of Unikitty with the key and shoved the device at his former henchman. Bad Cop instinctively grasped it, blinking at it.

“What good is a picture of the key going to do?” he growled after a moment.

“Uh, we’re surrounded by Master Builders. Masters of matter manipulation and creativity? They can just make a replica of it. Duh.”

Said Master Builders stared at him in something rather like awe. “That’s… that’s brilliant, actually,” Lucy said.

Business snorted at that. “I told you this isn’t my first rodeo.”

Bad Cop was silent for a long moment as the idea sank in. He handed the phone back with a soft “thank you, Sir.” Business stared; it was the most civil and respectful the cop had been toward him since Takos Tuesday.

Benny, having perked up at the news that his spaceship could be easily repaired, floated over to put a hand on Bad Cop’s shoulder. “You know, you’ve been awfully tense today, are you alright?” Bad Cop pointedly stared at Business, and Business promptly made himself scarce, muttering something about going to grab his case to get started on those repairs. “Come on man, you promised you’d tell me when we were done with the temple,” Benny reminded him.

“I did, didn’t I,” Bad Cop sighed. “Alright, but let’s grab Lucy first, I’ll need her help to get this sorted out.”

The astronaut looked confused. “Why Lucy?”

“You think I didn’t do my research on you Master Builders?” Bad Cop rolled his eyes. “Vitruvius was a master at delving into mindspaces. Lucy was his best student.”

“Ohh, I see.” Benny frowned. “Wait, you need her to go mindspace-diving?” The frown quickly melted into a look of astonishment. “OH! Does that mean Good Cop’s making a comeback?!” He bounced eagerly.

“…No.”

“What?”

“Lucy first, Ben.”

“Ohh, alright…”

[spiralinghours]

“Personal Assistant” Pt 8

Fandom: Saw franchise

Characters/Pairings: Mark Hoffman x fem/afab reader

Rating: PG-13 (for this part I think? somewhat tame-ish)

Tags/Warnings: Feeding kink; weight gain; reader is an ffa/feeder (whatever you wanna call it); typical workplace inappropriate boss x assistant dynamic; pig play mentioned

Summary: Hoffman has been acting weird and tired, so you try to figure out how to help.

Author’s Notes: Yes, we are getting to references of Mark being an apprentice and his dealings with the Umbrella Health game… But his assistant is oblivious and is just there to have a good time.

It had seemed like there was a lull in any notable activity around work, and then, unfortunately, a lull in how much you were getting called into Hoffman’s office for the occasional non-business business. He had been weirdly quiet and curt throughout the past week, and you were thrown off by it.

True, he was generally taciturn, keeping his voice low and level anytime he had the bare bones to report to anyone in the precinct. Around you was the most animated he would get with his little flirtations and jabs. But this week, it was like you were just another one of the faceless employees milling away and sinking into the background.

The suspicion that you had ticked him off wasn’t even on the radar. You pissed each other off on purpose all the time, which was part of your fun little rapport. Hoffman just seemed tired, running on autopilot with less to say than usual. It felt somewhat sudden, however.

“Not a lot going on with the Jigsaw case lately, huh?” you sighed, intending to spark some kind of conversation, some bit of interest. Anything.

“Just more missing people on top of the already-existing pile of missing people,” Hoffman sighed, not looking up from a notepad that he had been doodling onto. “Which, one could assume is relevant to Jigsaw. But who’s to say?”

“‘One could assume?’ I like how you say that like it isn’t your job to know everything going on. Like you aren’t head of the investigation.”

“Okay, yes, but… Babydoll, I’m just tired. I don’t have it in me to play like that today. None of that bad cop attitude from you, okay?” For once, in a rare and (to you) adorable moment, Hoffman sounded devoid of all cockiness and was just straight up defeated.

“What if I took you out after work?” you offered, hopeful. “Maybe not tonight, but sometime this week? As a little treat?”

He shook his head, little dark strands falling across his brow. “I am completely booked every afternoon and evening this week. I’m behind on a lot.”

That was odd. You were basically in charge of his schedule (which he wouldn’t know if you hadn’t informed him of every detail day in and out), and it hadn’t appeared like he was behind on anything. No interviews lined up, no press events… Not even any mind numbing paperwork that had gotten lost through the cracks. But you couldn’t form the question of how that seemed off to even bother.

“Fine, I’ll get us a nice little lunch then,” you pushed on, hoping there wouldn’t be any resistance.

“Very well. But seriously, don’t book me for anything after 3pm this week. I have a lot to get done. Very important stuff to do.” He kept on doodling, his scribbles forming into what looked like a map with some course running through it.

“Aren’t I important stuff?” you cooed, faking a quivering lip.

Hoffman couldn’t hold back a dull chuckle. “Do I need to answer that? I’ll see you at lunch.”

——

Lunch was the point that had brought about what you assumed would be a helpful change of pace. In addition to whatever generic quick-grab you had picked up, you added in a few energy drinks, a sugary latte of sorts, and some extra dessert items (donuts, particularly.) Your logic had dictated that Hoffman just needed more energy—more sustenance—throughout the day to bring him out of his slump. What better than to fuel him with caffeine, sugar, and carbs?

You deemed it a necessary adjustment, especially if he was as preoccupied with late nights as he had implied. So it had become a daily thing. And, as it were, he was already fairly spoiled by the large spread you usually brought around… So this was, selfishly, just a little plus. Same could be said for the subsequent way you would catch him hooking his thumbs into his waistband as he strolled down corridors, or slipped his suspenders just slightly to the side to scratch or press against his belly. He was constantly looking uncomfortably full, shifting his weight gingerly with each wide step.

After a few days of implementing an increase in lattes, frappuccinos, sodas, brownies, candy, you name it… Hoffman had finally buzzed you into his office for one of his “Can we talk real quick?” moments.

“Yes?” you chimed as you popped your head past his door.

You made immediate note of the two iced coffees you had brought in just an hour ago now crumpled in his waste basket (atop many other wrappers and plastic vessels). He was now working on a tall can of something high in caffeine, B12, and cotton candy flavoring.

“Come sit,” he gestured to you with a head tilt.

“Chair, or…?” You looked from the chair in front of his desk to his lap, the latter being where he usually let you perch.

“Chair today, sweetheart,” he huffed with a little grimace and a soft hiccup.

Drifting closer to him and his desk, you could see why that was the case. A lot of his lap space was currently being occupied by a particularly more bloated-looking belly, creases in blue shirt fabric pushed so much that the fibers appeared absolutely strained. It was such an appetizing sight that you wanted to gently lower onto his lap anyway and palm at his gut until he nodded off on your shoulder.

He repeated your name, making you realize you were staring off, lost in your perverse little daydream.

“Baby, I don’t mean to bite that hand that feeds,” he started, cringing at the sound of the cliched phrase leaving his mouth, “but have you considered maybe bringing me a salad? Anything with a vegetable? I’ve noticed lately it’s been a lot of… pasta, cake, fries, pasta, pizza, donuts, pasta… Did I mention pasta?”

“Well, that does surprise me. You usually don’t blink at whatever I put in front of you.” You outed yourself there, you had to admit. He was too easy to indulge. “But I suppose some greenery in addition to all that isn’t a bad idea. Guess you just gotta eat a little more, which I’ve been saying the whole time.” You shrugged, innocence as flimsy as cellophane.

“Yeah, yeah, it absolutely has nothing to do with making me chunkier,” he rolled his eyes dimly. “But why so much of the same lately?”

You blushed, flustered at the idea of getting flustered in front of Hoffman, the big docile-looking teddy bear though he was. Or outwardly presented as. It was nothing to admit something he probably already knew, and yet… that flavor of sarcasm and cutting self-importance he carried around (thick and hefty as his own weight) sometimes made you tense.

“You’ve seemed so tired lately, Hoffy, I just… I just figured a little more sugar and caffeine would be good for you. You keep saying how busy you are, how late into the night you have to work, which… I don’t know what you could possibly be doing since I know everything in your agenda… But I wanted to help keep you going, I guess.”

“Ah, pretty thing, you’re too sweet.” His usual unamused pout shifted into something slightly more touched. “Come on, come here.” Once again he gestured for you to sit, but this time it was towards his thighs, which he widened as you approached.

“Easy,” he softly warned and you settled your weight onto his cushy thigh. “I downed all that stuff you brought me a little too fast.” He hiccuped again, punctuating the sentiment.

“Oh, no, I could tell,” you giggled, draping one arm across his shoulders, and the other over the crest of his stomach.

Before any other teasing words could cross your thoughts, something just under his desk caught your eye.

“I’m not trying to be nosy,” you began, “but is that… a mask under there?”

“What?”

You reached down to the offending item by his feet, nestled against an old satchel and some unused notepads. Lo and behold what you pulled up was a pig mask. With scraggly hair, for some reason, and red rims around the eyeholes. Its dead, rubbery expression stared at you too calmly, like it would speak if another silent minute went by.

You could feel the awkward grumbling start up in Hoffman’s chest. “Oh, that’s—”

“Hoffy, is this… Is this, like, some kind of fetish thing? Or something?”

You knew it! Your boss was already a freak, but this? This was another level.

“Sure. Something like that,” he muttered, weirdly tense and muted.

“It all makes sense. Does that mean I get to call you Piggy?” You giggled, freeing up a hand to tickle at his plush side. “I’m sorry, Detective Piggy? Is Detective Piggy still hungry?”

You were having way too much fun, while Hoffman’s eyes flickered like he was trying to solve an algebra equation. Whatever was obstructing his thoughts passed, and he settled on a stiff smile.

“You got me, babydoll. I like the whole pig thing.”

“Well good! Because you’ll never hear the end of it.”

[hobbysognodilibri]

Finally something happy for Jiahui!

Or at least not angsty (I swear no angst in this one, just a poor undercaffeinated girl). Just a short and sweet domestic moment

This is heavily inspired by me running into one of the study rooms at my university with two coffees and two hours of sleep, and my friends looking at me like I'm gonna collapse

.

It was barely 8 in the morning, and the Huaxu Academy was mostly quiet, except for the usual muttering of researchers and the soft buzzing of the computers. Suddenly the heavy door opened, and someone came rushing in, bringing a sense of urgency to the relatively still – nearly stale – place.

The door hadn’t even fully closed after the girl, that she kept on running through the room, then to the left towards a small semi-hidden door. She entered and slammed the door behind herself, before slumping and all but crushing in a chair.

“Morning Jiahui,” the man sitting in front of her chuckled at his friend’s state.

“Yao” came the barely coherent response. The girl barely raised her head to greet him, but whatever movement she’d done looked like too much for her head, as she promptly slammed it again on the table in the middle of the room.

“Have you even slept tonight? At all? No offense, but you look worse than usual”

“And you’re late.” Came a rough voice from beside the other man.

Jiahui moved to rest her head on her hand, elbow propped on the table.

“Hello to you too, Mortefi. It’s good to see you”

The comment was met with a noise barely above a grunt.

“And yeah, I slept…” she glanced at the other’s raised eyebrow. “… a bit…”

“Care to explain why?”

She shrugged. “Eh, not really”

The other man just decided to drop the subject, already familiar with the other’s ways.

“Did you at least finish that report you needed to submit?”

Yao looked up from his tablet, to see Jiahui had once again dropped her head on the table, and looked close to passing out.

She stirred a bit, and glanced up at him.

“I did… ” a loud yawn unwillingly escaped her lips. “I just need to look it over one more time-”

“And you’re not in any shape to do so at the moment”

“Just give me a few minutes-” a cup slid in front of her “I love you!!!”

She took a sip of the warm liquid gold, then quickly turned to look at the woman now standing next to her chair.

“As long as you remember to pay for dinner tonight” she shrugged.

“Baizhi really you’re the best!”

The girl kept on sipping on the coffee, while finally taking her tablet out of her bag and starting on the final review of her report.

“Your addiction to caffeine is embarrassing at best”

She stuck her tongue at him, but other than that offered no answer to the remark.

For a few minutes the small room was quiet, the only noise the tapping of fingers on keyboards and the scribbling of pens on paper, the four people in the room each absorbed in their own work.

“Alright,” Jiahui started, as she got up from her chair “I’m done here, and I have a lot to take care of today. I’ll see you later, are we still going out for dinner?”

Despite Yao’s being the only vocal “yes” out of the three, she considered Baizhi’s nod and Mortefi’s grunt to be affirmative answers.

She grinned, then turned around and exited the room, ready to take on another day… and another cup of coffee.

.

This was fun to write, I love writing dialogues and having characters that are so fundamentally different to write for is so much fun

But yeah, as promised something nice for my poor girl, she totally needed this break

Now onto writing for the Beneath the Sand project!!! I'm so excited for it omg

[onstrangerthighs]

The Ugly Truth

Despite wishing her mother good night thirty minutes ago, Nancy’s eyes refuse to shut. Whenever she starts to drift off, she sees Barb crawling out from underground to blame her for what happened that night. Nancy would argue her case, but there’s no defense. She failed her friend. Barb hadn’t even wanted to go along in the first place! 

I’m going insane just lying here. Maybe some warm milk will calm me down.

She passes the bathroom on the way to the stairs. Mom’s not in the tub? I didn’t hear the water go off. Huh. 

The front door is open, and there’s the boy from Tina’s party who came speeding into Hawkins High School’s parking lot with his car radio on full blast. The boy Steve keeps staring at like a stunned fish. She’s shit with remembering names. Ben… something? 

Curiosity gets the better of her. She stays very still on the second step, ears and eyes peeled. 

Mom answered the door in her bathrobe? Nancy shifts her attention to Ben- no Billy, his name’s Billy. He seems… tense. Fidgety. 

“I’m Nancy’s mother.” 

“No.” 

For some reason, Billy saying that in a clearly sarcastic tone makes her mother twirl her hair and giggle, “Yes” like a schoolgirl with a crush. 

You’ve never acted this way with Dad. 

“Mrs. Wheeler.” 

“Um, I’m sorry, and you are?”

“Billy. Billy Hargrove.” He extends a hand for her to shake, and when she does, he puts his other hand over hers.

What the fuck is happening? Why aren’t you pulling away? 

“You must be here for Nancy.” 

“Nancy? No, no, no.”

One no would’ve done the trick. 

“Not my type.” 

Nancy snorts into her hand. 

“Uh… No, actually I am looking for my little sister Max. Goes by Maxine. She’s been missing all day, and, uh, to be honest with you, I’ve been worried sick, you know, so…”

“Oh.” 

You sound almost… disappointed. Why would you be, unless… No. Surely not. 

“I thought she was at Lucas’, but Mrs. Sinclair said your house is the…the designated hangout, so, you know… Here I am.” 

This has got to be the worst pretend pickup line I’ve ever heard. He’s got no interest in you, Mom. You know that, don’t you? 

Billy comes in, and if he notices Nancy lurking at the top of the stairs as he goes into the kitchen, he doesn’t say anything. 

“Their driveway is pretty dark this time of night,” Mom says, scribbling down an address for him. “So drive slowly.”

“Always.” He pockets the address and takes an extra bitter oatmeal cookie for the road. 

Under the kitchen light, her mother dies, and all she sees is Karen Wheeler biting her bottom lip as she watches him walk away, her eyes glued to his ass. 

Nancy doesn’t remember when her gun appeared in her hands, but her brain is surprisingly clear when she pulls the trigger. A bullet goes right between Karen’s eyes. 

Killing people is surprisingly easy when you see who they really are. 

Billy lies flat on the floor, hands cupped over his ears. 

“I’m not going to shoot you.” 

“You killed… your mother. God, Hicktown is fuckin’ crazy!” 

Boy, he really catches on quick. 

“You don’t know the half of it.” Nancy steps over Karen’s body and dials the number of Hopper’s secretary. She’s more likely to pick up than the Chief himself. “Hi, this is Nancy Wheeler. I need to talk to Chief Hopper. It’s important.”

She hears a grunt, and prepares the crocodile tears. Billy stares at her with a mix of awe and horror as her lower lip begins to tremble. “My mother st-started acting really strange. She turned the air conditioner down because she “liked it cold”. She-she loved the house being warm. Her voice came out all-all deep and empty. I looked into her eyes, and I knew my mother wasn’t…” she takes a shaky breath for added effect, then continues, “I knew she was gone. So I… I shot her. I don’t want to go to jail! I’m so scared, Chief.” 

“You did the right thing, calling me. I’ll stop by your house and take care of things, okay? Do you have anywhere else to go tonight?”

“I’m not sure. I-”

 Billy’s not on the floor anymore. His headlights are on. Crap.

I need to make sure he knows not to say anything. 

Nancy gets into the passenger seat and he sends her a dirty look. 

“You should really start locking your doors. It’s a safety precaution.”

“... I will keep that in mind. Now get out of my car.” 

“You said you were looking for your sister, right?”

“She’s not my sister.”

“But you said-” “I know what I said. Look, I’d prefer to forget everything said and done in your freakshow house, Wheeler.”

“Nancy.” 

“Fine. Nancy.” 

“I know where Max is.” 

“I’m not giving you shit in exchange for that information.” 

“Well I should hope not.” Has this sort of thing happened to him before?

“I know how to keep a secret. I just… why did you do it?” 

“We were always arguing. She never heard me. What pushed me over the edge was how she was with you. It made me want to puke. She should’ve stuck to her own age group.” 

Billy goes eerily quiet, hands gripping his steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. His shoulders slacken, and he unclenches his jaw to offer her a weary, appreciative smile. 

“Max is at the Byers’ house. Mike’s there, too. I can’t take him back to that house. He didn’t know… I don’t suppose you have room where you live?” Billy tenses up again. 

She takes that as a no.”

“I’ll be your guide to the Byers’. I’m sure Mrs. Byers wouldn’t mind us staying over.” 

He gives her a terse nod.

“Us includes you, Bonnie.”

Billy blinks several times, temporarily breaking out of his grim state. “Bonnie? Hold on, why the fuck am I not Clyde? Clyde’s a man.”

Nancy lets out a long sigh. “Do you actually care about that crap?”

“... No. I don’t,” he admits. “Bonnie has better hair anyway, so it fits.” 

“You think you’re funny, huh.” 

“I think I’m a fucking riot.” 

“Humor is subjective.”

“It was your joke!” 

****** “Am I dreaming, or is that you, Harrington?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” 

Okay, now I wish I’d shot myself instead. 

“Nancy???” Steve exclaims, dragging his eyes away from Billy’s chest. 

So that’s why Billy took his jacket off. 

She snickers, shaking her head. Steve Alexander Harrington, you haven’t changed one bit. 

Billy seems to be glowing from Steve’s attention. Dorks. 

“What’re you doing here, amigo?”

“Yeah, I could ask you the same thing, amigo.” 

Oh, Steve, you’re not fooling anyone. 

“Looking for my stepsister. A little birdie told me she was here.”

Nancy awkwardly waves. I doubt they’re even aware I exist. 

“Huh. That’s weird. I don’t know her.”

“Small, redhead, bit of a bitch?”

“I heard that!” a girl yells from inside the house. 

“I wanted you to!” 

“You guys are going to wake up the whole neighborhood!” Nancy yells.

“I think we’re a little quieter than a gu- guy who’s bangin’ his wife.” 

“Are you two… friends or something?” Steve says, squinting like he’s come face to face with an impossible math problem. 

“Amigos in crime.” 

“You didn’t tell him any embarrassing stories about me, did you? Nance?” 

“Stories? What stories?” 

“It’s a school night. We should all head inside and get some rest.”

“Nance!” 

“Shut up, Steve.”

“Yeah, shut up, Pretty Boy.” 

“Keep the flirting to a minimum, there are children present.”

Steve’s jaw drops. “WHAT? FLIRTING?”

Billy cackles, slapping his knee, his face matching the color of his shirt. 

New hobby unlocked. 

*****

“Does Mrs. Byers have any grub around here? I’m gonna check the fridge.”

“Billy, I wouldn’t do that if I were you-"

“WHAT THE FUCK-”

[highoctanegem]

Regan has some stinky goodies for Jade. Jade can probably barely resist, but Regan insists on having her read the card first. The card is another musical card, and though Regan couldn’t find a CRJ one this year, she was told this one was Beyonce. (She does not know Beyonce.) It’s actually the Windows ‘98 startup sound, which Regan thinks is familiar but can’t place it. She thinks actually, she must know Beyonce’s music. The cover of the card has a lot of black cats on it (Halloween themed…. And Microsoft themed) which is the most important thing.

Jade, mo ghrá,

Ever since we met, you have been 30 if you round up, but now you do not need to round. It is your birthday. Because you are someone who likes happiness, I wish you the happiest of days, and I aim to assure the quality of the occasion. It feels significant that we are together today. I’m not good at expressing such sentiments, but I believe I am better at it than a vacuum cleaner would be. Number 1 on The List should be celebrated today, I think, and perhaps we can add a few new numbers. I can think of some. Number 88: we are the best at compromising, because we end up with two outcomes instead of one (see couches). Number 291: With our combined efforts, we can get Emilio to do whatever we want. Number 101: We can go over every tiny new wrinkle together.

But enough of that, yes? It has become a bog in here. I am drenched to the bone. So I will allow most of what is included speak for itself. That is not literal. None of it will speak. Well, the card was supposed to. And the [scribbled out] speak to [scribbled out; she realized she was spoiling the best surprise]. 

I love you, Jade. Let’s go get tacos.

Is leatsa go síoraí i bhfola is i gcnámha,

Regan

PS (Postscript): I made an offer on the Decompe Lane house that we both approved of. It is no storage unit, but it is suitable for couples and cats who require full bedrooms. Partners who are together. Bone partners, especially. Ones who, perhaps, have some kind of an engagement. You know, something they intend to do, meaning they are planning on being present somewhere, doing something (who knows what), at a fixed or even tenuous point in time. So… an appropriate choice?

THE PRESENTS!

Obviously, there’s a stack of nude images that were taken by Mona a while back. Regan is posing (standing) in the studio with a rainbow cemetery backdrop. In some of them, she’s holding several knives. In others, she has a liter of Sprite in her arms, suggestively (suggestively of what??) There are also a few where a stuffed cat prop is somewhere in the photo, and a couple where Regan found a dead mouse in the studio and is actually excited about this. (Thank you Ria for helping me with the bit lmao)

There are two handwritten “tickets” to a Carly Rae Jepson show in Wicked’s Rest tonight. They’re written on Regan’s old prescription pad, like a medication script. Carly Rae Jepson is actually a Carly Rae Jepson impersonator tracked down by Emilio and Teddy, and “coerced” to come here and do a show. Regan inadvertently made the impersonator even more nervous so the show will be good, probably. 

A pair of baby blue drum sticks, in support of Jade’s new drumming hobby.

A nice, leather bound diary that was made locally. Regan left a surprise message on the first page that’s basically one of her own entries, talking about how fortunate she is to have a lady with eyes like festering pools of purge fluid and arms well-muscled and firm enough you might think they’re in rigor. In addition to the flattery she adds that she believes Jade can do anything (though that does not mean she’s always correct). Regan also adds You said you used to keep a diary. While I do not understand (what I write in is, of course, a journal), I am supportive of this endeavor. 

The mysterious second box that is REALLY stinky. It has eight dead, decomposing squirrels in it (8/8 on the Bloodworth Scale), all of which reminded Regan of Jade in different ways. The whiskers on one made it look especially mischievous. The tail on the other – those losing fur now – was as soft as Jade’s hair. If one squirrel kicked off a year-long relationship, maybe these would give them eight more years, right?

Because Jade was so excited about having a garden and the meaning of flowers, Regan bought her the language of flowers book, and an accompanying bundle of aster. The book has a note attached to it: You asked me about the meaning of flowers, so I acquired the book. The flowers I have selected – after careful research in the included text – are asters, related to those pink and white flowers we saw as Baxter. They symbolize love and wisdom, though I posit that all flowers do, especially when they wilt and die. 

A thumb drive with three classic, gay, banshee films on it, so they can finally watch Imagine Me & Sinews, Blue is the Asphyxiation Color, and Brokenspine Hill. These were very difficult to find and Regan probably bribed Siobhan. 

Then, of course, the cake. Which is shaped like a giant taco. Regan harassed a bakery for several days and checked in on their progress multiple times. She is now banned from purchasing another cake there. Jade insisted that she didn’t care about the cake and wanted whatever Regan liked, but minds can change.

[skylarmoon71]

Timeless Wells (Flash) Soldier- Chapter 18

The slightly annoying part of new romantic relationships is the constant updates about progress from your friend.

“I’m telling you when he takes off his glasses it’s like he becomes a different person.”

You frown, scribbling angrily at your reports.

“While I enjoy hearing about your blossoming love life Iris, I have a bunch of documents to get through. So please.” 

You gesture to the door of your office, and she laughs.

“Someone’s in a crabby mood.” She snickered.

A few of her lunches were spent with you at Star Labs. While you enjoyed the girl talk. You were still losing sleep over that very vivid dream. Because the flashes were getting more intense. But it’s not like you could tell Iris that you were having sexual fantasies about your boss again. She’d given you a hard time the first time around. You needed to reclaim your dignity.

“Well I should get back to the precinct. See you later.”

You wave her off as she leaves. The door closes, and you barely notice that Harrison has slipped inside.

“Finally some peace.” You mutter.

“Detective West giving you a few headaches?” Harrison joked.

You shake your head.

“No, I’ve just been a bit swamped. I am still managing a company. I’m trying to stay on top of everything just in case we encounter any other supernatural situations.”

“That’s smart. For Team Flash it’s just another Tuesday.”

“Of course it is.”

Harrison is standing by the door, and he just watches you. He takes it all in. When he got his life back, he’d told himself that he needed a fresh start. He wanted to make sure that he helped as many people as he could with whatever time he had left on this earth. Nothing was promised in life.

He knew that first hand. He’d experienced a lot. Something he didn’t account for again was falling in love. Tess would always be his first. But lately, it felt like he was opening himself to other possibilities he hadn’t considered in the last few years that he was here.

You don’t lift your head.

“Did you need help with something sir?”

He nodded.

“Yes, I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me tonight.”

That catches your attention.

“Dinner?”

“Yes. A candle light, a meal and maybe some soft music.”

Your brows knit. He couldn’t have really been asking you out on a date, could he?

“Like a date.”

“Exactly!!”

You frown.

“I’m sorry sir, but I’ll have to decline.”

His shoulders sag.

He can’t help it, he needs to know.

“Would it be wrong of me to ask why?” 

You finally place your pen down.

“We work together. You’re my superior, I’m your employee. That’s all this is. I’ve been down this road already.” 

He briefly remembers the story you told of your past love.

“But this is different I’m not-”

“It’s not different.” You interrupt.

“I’m sorry sir, but the answer is no.” Your words leave no room for conversation. Harrison takes a step back.

“I understand. I apologize for overstepping. I’ll leave you to it.” He turns. As he walks away, you can feel your chest tightened.

“I’m sorry.” You say as he stops by the door.

“So am I.”

He steps out, closing it and you drop your head on the desk.

[starrypawz]

Kiss prompt 34 “to pretend” – ship choice is yours

AO3 Kissing Prompts

There’s a part of Gerry that does wonder if he should be concerned about one: how easy it is to get into places he shouldn’t and two: how comfortable he’s become getting into places he shouldn’t. 

And tonight the place he shouldn’t be in and is far too comfortable about the fact he’s in somewhere he shouldn’t is a former English department building on a university campus that seems to have been commandeered by the drama society as surplus storage. There’d been a lock but it felt more from appearances sake with how easy it was to get past (There’s also a part of him that should be worried about how blase so many places seem to be about their security).

(And judging from the empty WKD bottle he’d nearly tripped over and something on the floor that looked suspiciously like a condom wrapper he had a good idea how else this building has been repurposed by students taking advantage of the lax security) 

He’s focused on a bookshelf hidden behind a couple of clear plastic crates which contain haphazardly shoved elements of costumes. (According to the label on the box these were from a production of Grease and well there is the arm of a pink satin jacket poking out of one of them so that tracks)

“Move the torch down?” 

Nemo does. 

“So what are we looking for?” 

“A copy of The Waste Land…” He pauses for a second, nearly all of these books are more than a little dog eared, cheap paperbacks clearly used and abused by countless students until their inglorious retirement, falling right into that category of books that are old but not actually worth anything.

 And that’s… that’s… Frost. 

“Let me guess… End?” 

“What?”

“Like… if it’s The Waste Land it’s going to be connected to The End right?” And then Nemo adds after a moment, “Or Spiral?” 

Frost… Frost… Fucking Frost. 

“Actually… Hey move the light to the right a little…” Nemo does, “It… It might be Buried?” 

“Huh…” Nemo feels an answering little drop in their stomach that they try to ignore. “There’s… not a lot about this one,” Gerry then finds way too many Wordsworths, “I mean it makes sense,” Gerry shrugs, “The Waste Land has themes of collapse and that is actually a feature of the Buried” 

“Right…”

He picks up on the twinge of discomfort in Nemo’s voice, “Nemo?”

“I’m ok…” Nemo sighs, “Just… you know,”

“Yeah…” Gerry sighs, and his thoughts drift back for a moment to that night in Camden “I know,” 

“I mean… at least I met you?” Nemo gives a soft chuckle,

“Yeah,” Gerry gives a fond sigh, “Romance for the ages right?” He skips over some Keats and Kiplings, “But yeah, Buried, just a hunch,” Still nothing, “There’s not a lot about this one, I think thankfully not many people have interacted with it,” He pauses as he checks a few more, no luck “Mostly heard accounts about feelings of doom,” 

Nemo snorts, “That narrows it down,”

Gerry laughs. He’s on the bottom shelf now but still no Elliot, looks over a few more books and. 

“Fuck,” He mutters

“No luck?” 

“Yeah,” Gerry sighs, he checks again and no. 

“Are you sure it’s here?” 

“Yes,”

And then he realises that came out way more terse than he intended and sighs, “Sorry,”

“It’s ok…”

“It’s just,” Gerry stands up, “It’s around here somewhere,” He pauses, “I Know,” 

An innocuous masquerade of an outmoded, long forgotten, battered, dog-eared paperback, spine cracked, black ballpoint scribble on the pale blue cover. Hidden amongst countless others in a former English department building a relic left behind after its replacement with a glass fishbowl. 

He takes a deep breath and focuses on that pull deep down, it’s always subtle but he’s found most of the time it’s in his best interests to follow. 

Entombed, lies in wait with those destined to meet their end. 

He starts to move and Nemo follows. Away from the shelves and to a corner and a stack of archive boxes that on closer inspection are marked To Be Pulped. 

Here. It’s here. Somewhere. 

Follow the pull follow follow and…

This One

He’s on his knees, and rifle through the box with gloved hands. The books in here have been placed haphazardly. And they’re even more battered and dog eared than the ones on the bookshelves. To the point he picks up one and the cover detached.

He puts his hand in once more and 

There.

“Got it!”

He holds the copy of The Waste Land aloft. Pale blue, dog eared and with a ballpoint pen scribble on the cover. It’s little surprise the contents of the box are dusty as dust motes float away caught in torch light, but this book is suspiciously so.

“You were right,” 

Gerry shrugs, “Just a hunch,” As he focuses on unzipping his rucksack and getting the book secured away in a heavy canvas bag. 

“Right,” He gives a sigh of relief as he stands up and shoulders his bag, “Let’s-” 

“Shit!” Nemo pulls (or at least does their best to do so and he follows) them more into the corner

“Nemo-”

“There’s… someone around-” 

And then he hears it. Echoing footsteps from outside the room, heavy ones that from experience he knows tend to belong to security guards or police. (He hopes it’s the former) 

“Shit!” Gerry echoes and tries to think. There’s only one door, and the windows are not an option (He had tested one on the way in and had found they’re that sort that only lets you open them enough to get a breeze in) 

There’s a flash of light through the glass and the sound of a door opening 

Maybe we could-

He loses that thought as he finds himself pulled down and kissed. He gives a muffled sound of surprise and it takes more than a moment for him to kiss back. 

This works

He gives a soft sigh as their positions change, Nemo now up on their toes and he’s not sure where to put his hand on the small of their back. And despite everything he feels himself start to melt into the kiss as he’s reminded yet again how Nemo seems to fit perfectly against him. And then Nemo’s hand dares to slip under the hem of his shirt (A recently broached frontier) and he shudders from both the touch of Nemo’s chilled fingertips (Not that he minds, if anything he’s found there’s something about the sensation against his skin he’s starting to crave) and how sensitive the skin of his stomach is anyway.

He feels his pulse kick up and he’ll take this reason for it kicking up rather than that ‘I am currently running for my life’ way he’s far too familiar with especially as it’s followed with that warmth from deep down that’s becoming a regular feature by this point and-

Suddenly, they're bathed in light. Too bright and even with his eyes shut he winces. 

There’s a part of his brain still working, not lost in the result of Nemo’s attentions that reminds him of exactly where they are and how this ruse might not…

“Bloody students!” Comes a brusque mutter before the footsteps pick up again. Whoever found them has probably, hopefully decided it’s not with the paperwork and the late night phonecalls. 

They probably could stop kidding once the door shuts. They probably should stop kissing but they don’t. They keep kissing even as the steps trail off into the distance. 

(They might come back? Better safe than sorry right?)

(At least that what Gerry tells himself, this is necessary for the ruse)

And then they pull back, both flushed and lightheaded (And Nemo looking more than a little smug) “Right…” Gerry waits for his brain to catch up, “Let’s go… Need to go burn this,” 

. And then he feels that warmth from deep in his core that’s becoming a regular feature and-

Suddenly they’re bathed in light. Too bright, and if his eyes weren’t shut right now he’d be wincing from.. And Gerry’s not so lost in Nemo’s attentions to totally forget where they are and how this ruse might not… 

“Bloody students!” 

Comes a brusque mutter before the footsteps pick up again. Whoever that is probably deciding it’s not worth the paperwork and the late night phonecalls. 

And they probably could stop kissing the moment the door shuts and the steps trail out of earshot. 

But they don’t. It carries on

. But they don’t, it carries on for longer than necessary to maintain the ruse (They could come back, better safe than sorry right?) before they both pull back more than a little lightheaded. (And Nemo looking more than a little smu

“Uh… let’s go,” Gerry manages after a long moment. “Need to burn this,” 

[fissions-chips]

Decided to do some lowkey scribbling tonight after a stressful day, so I worked on some concept art for the Tiny Fairy AU- since Tim would be a permanent resident of Butler’s cottage eventually, he’d need a more long-term habitat than the one first described in the fic.

(Loosely inspired by songbird enclosures at the rehab center I work at)- basically, a mesh-walled wooden frame with a comfy little hide box (probably full of stolen trinkets), soft towels and fleece as substrate, and lots of sticks and branches for Tim to climb around on since he’s nonflighted- probably a lot more than I’ve depicted here, but again, lowkey.

- For the sake of general comfort and in case of a bad day pain-wise, his box partially sits on a heating pad that’s on for most of the day.

- Probably would be about 80% covered by a sheet or towel most of the time, since Tim likes to hide a lot.

- Yes, there would be a door with a latch, no, Butler would probably not use it much. He’s already fairy-proofed 90% of his house, Tim can (usually) go where he wants. (Actually, now I’m thinking about him making tiny little ladders and ramps for Tim to get around…)

(Closeup of the little guy below)

A little messy but in my defense I still don’t know how I want them to look entirely yet. But- little guy.

[newtonsheffield]

Thats the point of the dress Edwina shes seducing you to lower your anxiety

Edwina’s sort of a hit anyway. Despite what Josie would have Edwina believe: a lot of people know who she is. A lot of people are fans of her music. Even the guy that had had josie murmuring in her ear when he approached.

“Eddie I love you, but please don’t say anything insane to this guy.”

Turns back to them after he turned to leave, clearing his throat.

“I’m so sorry, I know you’re probably trying to enjoy your night but I promised my teenage daughter if you were here tonight I’d ask you for your autograph.” He awkwardly fumbled in his jacket for a CD and a marker while Josie gaped at him.

“Yes, yeah. Absolutely.” Edwina took it from him. “What’s her name?”

“Jane.”

“Jane,” Edwina hummed, scribbling a quick message. “Pretty name. How about we ask Josie very nicely and she takes a photo of the two of us for Jane.”

Josie looked thoroughly shocked as she took his phone and snapped a photo of the two of them, his usually stern demeanor changed.

“Thank you! Ah she’s going to be so excited!”

“Happy to help.”

Josie stared after him. “I have… never seen him smile before.”

“Well, I am a miracle.”

“I’m definitely getting under that skirt on the way home.”

“Keep it in your pants, Josie.”