#Just set it There l Queue

[just-a-man-with-a-badge]

These are all excellent choices.

📸

I see your face every time I dream || Accepting

[bad268]

MercDuo (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Mercedes Strategist! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Yeah (I was wondering if you could possibly write something about Kimi and a reader who is very young, but works for an F1 team (maybe in the strategy side or on the pitfall as someone's engineer). Maybe even at Williams with Logan to create some drama about Logan being replaced.) (Anon, thank you for being so nice! I <3 you!)

Warnings: Danica Patrick mentioned (but Jenson Button is a reader-defender on live!)

POV: Second Person (You/your/They/them)

W.C. 1221

Summary: Kimi and the reader are the youngest driver-engineer duo in F1.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

You started your internship with the Mercedes-AMG Petronas F1 team when you turned 16 and in the short year and a half you were there, you flew through the ranks. When Bono told you he was stepping down to follow Lewis to Ferrari, you assumed the new person would be just as cool.

As it turns out, Bono personally recommended you to Toto Wolff to take his place as race engineer. 

Your boyfriend Kimi, who you met at a smaller karting track when you first started learning about engineering, was going to be your driver. There’s no way this could have gone right. There were too many conflicting relationships and forces for it to run smoothly. At least, that’s what the media said. 

Well, you learned from the best and the best nominated you to fill the void. That said something. Not to mention, Toto would not have put you in the role if he didn’t think you could handle it. That said something. And last but most certainly not least, you and Kimi always had a working relationship. 

Ever since you joined Mercedes after him, you two set clear boundaries. Rule number one, no flirting on the job if they are in the middle of something. Randomly in passing was fine, but it was kept to a minimum. Rule number two, you work together, and work to find common ground. Sounded like a given. Rule number three, work is work; leave it at the garage, track, factory, or wherever you are at. Work stays at work and it’s not brought home. Vice versa. Your personal relationship stays outside of working hours.

It was never a problem because Kimi was in the junior program and you were in F1, shadowing Bono. Obviously, with Lewis leaving, the new seat was open for practically anyone. Also, while you were usually a part of the driver decisions and contracts, the team conveniently left you out of the new driver decisions until Kimi himself told you he was taking Lewis’s place. 

This was fine at first because you already saw Kimi around the factory, and you would just be in the background during races. There was absolutely no crossover.

Yeah, then Bono decided to go with Lewis, and Toto promoted you to Kimi’s race engineer. Queue the iconic moments between you and Kimi.

Australia, round one of the 2025 season, was one for the books. Not only were you and Kimi excited to show off the new car (which is definitely championship worthy!), but the entire fanbase was curious (and some angry) to see how you and Kimi would match up against the rest of the grid. You two were barely legal, and neither of you had much experience. That’s what they thought, at least. You had been studying strategy since you could read, and you were ahead of your classes. It was the same story with Kimi except he was driving.  Both of you flew through your respective ranks and were highly regarded. Some people were anticipating you both living up to the hype. Others were honestly hoping you would fail. 

You both walked through the gates hand in hand toward the Mercedes garage. Journalists and fans alike shouted questions at you both, but you two just walked straight past them and put on some sunglasses. This was the first sign you both meant business, and it brought a lot of attention to Mercedes in general.

“Here we see Mercedes rookie, Andrea Kimi Antonelli, and his race engineer and partner, Y/n L/n,” Jenson Button said as you two walked past the camera where he was commenting on the prerace show. “They are probably the youngest driver-engineer duo in all of motorsports, but they are proving everyone wrong with Kimi topping the free practice sessions and bagging pole in qualifying.”

“Not many people know this, but Y/n actually graduated at the top of her class super early, and started an internship shadowing Peter Bonnington, Lewis Hamilton’s race engineer, when they were 16. While that’s impressive, I just don’t think they’re ready for this kind of pressure just yet. They only just turned 18, and 2 years is not enough experience before being the lead race engineer.” Leave it to Danica Patrick to say something condescending, but Jenson was not going to stand for it.

“I am a(n) Y/n-defender first, commentator second,” Jenson chuckled, but anyone watching or listening knew he was being completely serious. Jenson knew your character. He knew how hard you worked to get where you are, and he was not going to stand for anyone shit-talking you. It just made it a little better that he got to tell off his nemesis, Danica Patrick. “I will fight for Y/n any time, any day. They have worked too hard for someone to start badmouthing them.”

“But don’t you think it’s at least a little questionable of Toto Wolff to bring on the second youngest driver, next to Max Verstappen, and the youngest race engineer of all time?”

“I think the answer is in the results,” Jenson stressed in disbelief. “You said it yourself that they’ve topped every session together, and the team has been looking pretty reliable for pitstops all weekend. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if Kimi pulled out a win on his maiden race.”

“Kimi, radio check,” the broadcast cut to the drivers lining up on the grid, and your radio message to Kimi rang out.

“Loud and clear,” Kimi answered, and that was the end of the broadcast, so they didn’t catch the second half of Kimi’s message. Instead, it cut short, and the commentary team jumped into their own conversation.

“This goes to show they can be professional when needed,” Jenson laughed. “They may be young but they are professional enough to know there is a time and place. On the grid is not one of them.”

If they had heard the rest of the message, they would know everything Jenson just said was a lie.

“Oh, I don’t get any good luck?” Kimi teased as he looked to the lights for the formation lap.

“Amour (love), now is not the time,” You lectured as you talked a little quieter, especially around the rest of the team. They did not need to be alerted that their driver was currently distracted as he proceeded through the turns of Australia.

“What if I crash? Do you really want the last thing you say to me be ‘now’s not the time’?” Kimi retorted as he went through the formation lap.

“You’re so dramatic,” You groaned, but you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face. You glanced around at everyone briefly just as Kimi was coming around the last turn and into his grid slot. You signed, “Ti amo. Stai attento bello. Torna a casa da me (I love you. Be careful handsome. Come home to me).”

“Sempre (Always),” Kimi said as he waited for the green flag to fly at the end of the queue.

“Now, focus on the race,” You turned serious again, “In the words of Sebastian Vettel, go fast, don’t crash.”

“I try my best,” Kimi chuckled as he turned his full attention to the lights for his first Formula 1 race. His first pole position. His, eventual, first win in Formula 1.

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[dawnisatotalqueen]

PROMISE

title: promise

character: steven hyde x reader

warnings: alcohol use, marijuana use, mentions of virginity, mentions of assault, cursing, semi frequent use of l/n (last name), zen masters (jackie x hyde) if u squint

summary: when you met the boys, you made a promise to never date any of them. though this gets harder and harder to follow as you all get older and more attractive.

disclaimer: i do not support danny masterson in any way, shape, or form. i just have an attachment to hyde </3

word count: 2972

part two

You were a maneater. At least, that’s what your friends said and you didn’t necessarily disagree. In your mere 17 years of life, you had accumulated nearly 30 boyfriends. In a town like Pointplace, there weren’t very many eligible bachelors, and it didn’t help that you swore off dating the hottest one.

Years prior, at the very beginning of middle school, when you had met Kelso, Foreman, and Hyde, you made a promise. You promised to yourself, and to them, that you would never date them. You enjoyed their company a lot, which is exactly why you didn’t want to risk dating any of them.

Naturally, as time progressed and Fez joined the group, he was included in the group of boys you wouldn’t date, though in all honesty, you probably never would have dated him regardless.

As you got older, you had started to ever so slightly regret your promise because as you got older, so did the boys, and oh boy, was one of them hot.

Hyde was gorgeous and exactly your type. But did you think Hyde was hot because he was your type, or did you think he was hot because he set the standard for your type? The world may never know.

To put those feelings aside, you upped the ante on your dating game. You were the most “desirable” out of your friend group except for maybe Donna or Jackie. You dated jocks, nerds, stoners, and basically any other clique in your high school.

That led you to now, walking into Eric Foreman’s basement, which is where you usually were, waiting for a guy to show up for a date.

You wore a pretty black dress and your signature green bomber jacket.

Donna was the first to look over, whistling with a grin. “Damn! You look great.”

Jackie looked over, gasping a little and pushing up off of Kelso to rush over to you. “That dress is gorgeous!! Much better than what you usually wear.” She looked over the dress.

You giggled at the backhanded compliment. It was something you were used to with Jackie, and you found it endearing. “Thanks! Got it just for the date. Definitely keeping it, though.”

Hyde raised a brow. “You don’t usually dress up for dates. Must really like the guy, huh?” You didn’t notice it then, but he shifted uncomfortably, his posture tensing.

“Damn it!! Stupid lucky guy, getting (L/N) to dress up all nice for him..” Kelso crossed his arms over his chest, pouting.

“At least we get to be blessed with the sight.” Fez sighed happily.

“I don’t know, I don’t really like him.” You shrugged. “He’s just takin’ me somewhere fancy, figured it was the least I could do.”

“Well, you look great. Hope you have fun.” Donna got up, patting you on the back.

“Thanks!! I’ll swing by after, yeah?”

“We’ll leave the door unlocked.” Eric commented, smiling.

“Great!” You heard a honk outside. “That’s my queue. Cya!” You grinned, heading out the door.

Hyde rolled his eyes, or, that’s what everyone assumed. It was a little hard to tell with the glasses. “Doesn’t even have the decency to knock, and she’s giving this guy a shot?” He scoffed.

“Someone sounds jeaaalouusss!!” Kelso snickered.

“I’m not jealous. I just think (L/N) could do better than some dude who can’t even knock on the door.”

“It’s okay if you’re jealous, Hyde! I mean, she’s going out with a popular jock. It makes sense you’d feel insecure.” Jackie returned to her spot next to Kelso.

“Why would I care?”

“It’s obvious you guys have a little back and forth thing.” Jackie giggled.

Donna hummed, leaning against the couch. “I figured you guys would’ve at least made out by now.”

Hyde scoffed. “Never gonna happen. She literally swore off ever dating me, Foreman, and Kelso.”

“Is that all that’s stopping you?” Eric raised a brow.

“No.” Hyde was almost too quick to answer. What he didn’t say was that he thought you were out of his league. He was a teenage dirtbag, and while you were their friend, you also were more of a social floater than anything. You dated jocks and the most popular guys in school. He’d be stupid to think you could ever be interested in dating him..

Right?

..

It had been a couple of hours since you left, and everyone had sort of faded out. Eric retreated upstairs to his room, heading to bed, and everyone else had returned to their respective houses.. Everyone except for Hyde, that is, as he had found himself recently staying in the Foreman’s basement after an incident with his Mom.

He lounged on the couch, taking a puff from a blunt that he had rolled when he heard the door open.

You stumbled in, reeking of cheap booze. More importantly, though, you had visibly been crying. Your mascara left streaks down your face, and your nose was red and puffy.

“What happened?” Hyde sat up straight, stiffening. Did that guy hurt you? He would kick his ass if he hurt you–

“That guy was a douche.” You huffed. “Got me drunk, then tried to get laid.” You wobbled over to the couch, sitting next to him. You held out your hand, and Hyde got the message, passing you the blunt.

“Did he hurt you?”

You shook your head. “Pushed him off.” You deeply inhaled the smoke before blowing it out, sighing. “Sucks. Used to it, but it sucks.”

“You’re used to it?” He stared at you, a little bewildered.

“Most guys get pissy when I won’t sleep with them.” You kicked off your heels, leaning back. “Don’t wanna lose my virginity to some guy I don’t even like.. Is that bad?” You looked at him, frowning.

“That’s not a bad thing.” He pushed a piece of your hair out of your face. “Plenty of people wanna save it for someone special. Like the whole til marriage shit.” He shrugged.

“Guess so..” You looked down before smiling, nudging him. “Why can’t every guy be as nice as you?”

He raised a brow. “You think I’m nice?”

“Yeahh!” You grinned, your slurring words the evidence of the alcohol still in your system. “In your own way. Liike, you may not act like it, but I think you care about everyone. At least a little. Like when you took Jackie to prom! Or now, you’re comforting me after a shitty date.”

“If you keep goin’ you’re gonna make my ego big.” He snickered.

You smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Shut upp.. Point iss, you’re super sweet in your own way, and that’s what mattersss..”

He wrapped his arm around you. “You flatter me too much.”

After you didn’t respond, he looked over and realized you had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He sighed a little, propping you up and then picking you up. He took you to his room, laying you down on his bed and tucking you in.

He sat down next to you, watching you for a second. You looked so completely and utterly peaceful. He let out a breath before standing up.

Was your promise all that was stopping him from pursuing you?

He stood still for a second before heading to the door and flipping off the light. “Night, doll.”

..

You were very confused when you woke up the next morning, and you were in Hyde’s bed. You were still in the same clothes from the night before, and there was no evidence that anyone else had been in bed with you, so you felt pretty confident that you didn’t sleep together.

You scooted off of the mattress, getting up and peeking your head out the door. You didn’t see anyone in the basement, so you figured it must’ve been earlier in the day. You walked around, spotting a blanket on the couch, and you figured Hyde must’ve slept on it. But, he was nowhere to be found.

You decided to head upstairs and hopefully wash your face, maybe even get a change of clothes that Laurie left behind.

When you opened the door to the basement, you hissed a little upon seeing that the Foreman family were all sitting around the table, eating breakfast like the classic sitcom family.

You turned around, trying to tiptoe down the hallway when the floor board underneath you squeaked. You hissed, turning around when you heard Kitty’s voice behind you. “Y/N? Is that you? This early in the morning?”

You turned around, smiling awkwardly. “Ah.. Yeah, sorry. I um– I let myself in.”

Kitty gasped a little, getting up from her chair. “Goodness! You look awful!”

You assumed she was referencing your tear smudged makeup. “Yyyeah.. Rough night.”

“Let me get you cleaned up.” She put a hand on your shoulder, ushering you through the hall.

That left the boys in the kitchen. Red looked at Hyde, raising a brow. “You slept on the couch last night.

Hyde paused. “Yup.” He shoved a bite of his food in his mouth.

“Did she stay over?” Red leaned back in his chair, eyeing the curly haired boy.

Eric whistled lowly. “Dang, Hyde. Maybe Jackie was right about you being jealous.”

Hyde rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t like that. She had a crappy date and passed out. I didn’t wanna wake her up just to make her leave.”

Red looked at him for a second before raising his brows. “Well, that was nice. But you two really need to stop letting random kids crash here.” He cringed.

..

Meanwhile, you were in the bathroom with Kitty. You washed your face, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were a little swollen, but it was nothing major. You sighed a little before Kitty spoke. “I’ll get some clothes from Laurie’s room for you to change into. I can wash your clothes for you.”

You smiled at her, nodding. “That’d be appreciated, thank you.” You took off your jacket, handing it to her.

She smiled at you, taking your jacket before freezing when she saw your wrists.

You hadn’t realized it, but the jackass that you went on a date with had left bruises on you when he was trying to get handsy.

“Did.. Someone..” Kitty trailed off.

“No! No, no. Nothing like that. I, uh, I pushed him off of me.” You reassured her.

She frowned. “Oh, dear.. That had to have been hard.”

You looked to the side, frowning a little. “...Yeah.”

She put a hand on your shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Well, you’re safe now. And you’ll have clean clothes soon enough.” She smiled, heading out the door and getting you some clothes.

Laurie’s clothes were comfortable. Kitty got you a pretty simple tank top and some pajama pants, which you didn’t mind. She told you she’d let you know when your clothes were clean, so you made your way down to the basement. It had been about an hour since you had seen Hyde and Eric since you took a shower during that time.

The usual group had gathered in the basement during that time, watching something stupid on TV. You made your way down the stairs, running a hand through your hair.

You casually walked over, sitting on the arm of the couch, putting you next to Kelso and Jackie. Only then did everyone realize you were there.

“Hey (L/N)!” Donna grinned, raising a teasing eyebrow. “How was your hot date–” She paused when she saw your appearance. Slightly swollen eyes and bruised wrists were the first thing to stand out.

“Jeez! You look awful!” Jackie looked over at you, and you couldn’t help the giggle that came out. She sounded just like Kitty.

You hummed. “The date was shit, but it’s cool. Didn’t really like the guy anyway, and I got free food.” You shrugged it off.

Hyde watched you, his eyes drifting down your body before they landed on your wrists. He didn’t see that the night before. You really did have to fight off that douche-bag.

Donna got up from where she was next to Eric, going to the back of the couch and hugging you. “Aw.. I’m sorry, babe. You can do better anyway.”

“Like Hyde said yesterday, you could do way better than a guy who honks!” Fez hummed, nodding to himself.

You blinked, looking in Hyde’s direction, seeing him shrug. “It’s true.”

You could feel your cheeks heat up, and your eyes soften, but before you could dwell on the butterflies in your stomach, you heard a honk from outside. You all paused, and Eric looked in your direction. “Do you have another date?”

You shook your head, getting up off the couch. “Who could that be?” You went to the door, opening it and going up the outside stairs, spotting a familiar car. “..Oh god.”

The guy you had gone out with the day before got out of his car, spotting you. “(Y/N)-- Can we talk?”

You grimaced, crossing your arms. “Why?”

You could hear your friends gathering up behind you as you walked up the driveway.

“Listen, I get kind of weird when I’m drunk, I didn’t mean to be so pushy.” The boy frowned, looking down at you.

You grumbled, rolling your eyes. “And I suppose you didn’t mean to ditch me and make me walk home too then?”

“You had to walk here?” Before you knew it, Hyde was by your side, looking at you.

You looked at him, frowning a little before shrugging. “Yeah. It’s–”

“Please, just– just give me another chance.” The boy stepped closer to you, trying to grab your shoulders.

Hyde stepped between you, pushing the guy away by his chest. “I think you’ve done enough.”

“And who do you think you are?” The guy stood up straight, getting in Hyde’s face.

“I’m her friend. And I don’t appreciate how you treated her.”

“Well, frankly, I think it’s none of your business how I treat her.”

“It kind of is when she busts into my basement crying.”

“Don’t be dramatic. I was just trying to have some fun.” The guy rolled his eyes. “And the bitch was basically asking for it with that dress–”

Hyde punched him, and he held his bleeding nose. The guy growled, throwing a punch at Hyde, and before you knew it, they were fighting. You squeaked, reaching your hand out. “H– hey there’s no need to fight it’s fine–”

The guy elbowed you. Right in the eye.

You hissed, holding your face. “Fuck–”

Hyde looked between you and the guy for a split second before he nailed his knee into his stomach. “You’d seriously fucking hit a chick?! What is wrong with you?!”

The guy coughed, holding his stomach and backing up toward his car, hurrying in.

“Yeah, screw off!” Hyde called after him, looking over to you.

Donna and Jackie rushed over to you, Donna, holding your shoulders. “O– ow shit– How bad is it?” You moved your hand off of your eye.

Jackie hissed. “Yikes. That’s gonna bruise. But it’s okay!! I have some absolutely great makeup that’ll cover it up, no problem!”

You giggled a little through the pain. “Ah, I don’t think that’s my biggest concern–” You looked in Hyde’s direction. “Are you okay?”

..

You and Hyde were left alone in the basement as the others were grabbing some stuff to help with your current conditions. Donna and Eric were getting an ice pack, Jackie was getting her makeup, and Kelso and Fez… Well, they were doing something.

You held a warm washcloth, dabbing at the little cuts and bruises on Hyde’s face. It was one of the few times you had seen him without his glasses for such a long period of time.

Once you were done, you sighed, smiling at him. “Y’know, you don’t need to get into fights for me.”

Hyde leaned back. “What? For you? Nah, the guy just had a very punchable face.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Right, right, my bad.”

He straightened up a little, clearing his throat. “Well, uh, are you good? I mean, that guy said some pretty nasty things..”

You shrugged a little, looking down. “I’m all good. He’s not the first guy to react like that to me rejecting them. He is the first guy to give me a black eye though.”

At the mention of your black eye, Hyde leaned forward, pushing your hair out of your face and oh so carefully touching your cheek. “Does it hurt?”

You stared at him, your breath hitching. “A little.”

He seemed to take in the fact that the two of you were mere inches away. He swallowed, looking down at you. “(L/N).. I uh.. I didn’t like that you went out with that guy.”

“What?” You furrowed your brows. “Why? Because he was like– a douche?”

“I mean, yeah, but I think it was ‘cause I uh…” He licked his lips. “I might, uh..”

Before he could say what he had on his mind, Donna and Eric made their way down the stairs, and you and Hyde quickly scooted away from each other.

Donna handed you the ice pack, and you pressed it to your eye, hissing a little.

“Jackie will be back with her makeup pretty soon, but I’d suggest not putting it on at least until the swelling goes a little down.” Donna hummed.

“Yeah, she–” Eric had started to go on a ramble about something, but you weren’t paying attention. Your eyes were on Hyde, who had casually gone back to his chair, acting as if your moment didn’t happen.

Was he going to say he liked you? What would that mean for your relationship? You were attracted to him, you had to admit, but did you like him?

Should you break your promise? 

[yan-lorkai]

I’m not sure if I can request this and I don’t know much about Halloween but I can totally imagine the first year gang starting a little pumpkin farm at Ramshackle. They’d carve pumpkins together and maybe sell some of them to earn a little pocket money

If it’s too much, no worries. just ignore this. Have a great day

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/n: This is such a lovely idea tbh, now i kinda of want to do something like this with my friends aaaa. This was supposed to be posted at 6am as always and i forget to queue it lol. Anyway, enjoy it darling!

The Ramshackle Dorm had never been busier nor more vibrant than now. It all started with a simple idea from Ace: “Hey, why don’t we grow some pumpkins here?” he had said a sunny afternoon, eyes glinting with mischief as gestured to the dead garden of his dorm.

“We can carve them for Halloween, and maybe even sell a few. Easy money, right?” He turned to Epel, who, just as mischievously, nodded.

With a few enthusiastic nods from Jack and Deuce, the plan was set in motion. Soon, even Sebek, who had initially scoffed at the idea as "a frivolous waste of time," found himself secretly invested when Malleus found out and praised him for having a hobby with a bunch of friends.

Days turned into weeks, and the once dead, wild yard of the Ramshackle Dorm was transformed. The first-year gang tilled the soil, planted seeds, and tended to their patch diligently. They took turns watering the sprouts, pulling out weeds, and shooing away curious crows. It was hard work, but there was a certain joy in it.

Jack took special pride in watching the tiny green shoots grow into fat, round pumpkins, while Epel appreciated the physical labor - he said that in that way he could gain muscles. Ace and Deuce made it a game, challenging each other to see who could grow the biggest pumpkin, which led to much bickering and laughter.

The yard was filled with the warm, earthy scent of pumpkins, and the air was filled with laughter. Each carved pumpkin was a reflection of its creator, scattered around the steps and windows of Ramshackle, glowing with flickering candles as the sun dipped below the horizon.

As the pumpkins ripened, the dorm's front yard slowly turned into a sea of orange, each pumpkin unique in size and shape. On one particularly crisp afternoon, as Halloween approached, they gathered around to start carving. Carving tools in hand, they sat in a circle, some humming, others chatting about what designs they’d make.

Ace boasted that he would create the scariest face, while Deuce shyly admitted he wanted to make a pumpkin with a cute smile so he could take a photo and sent it to his mother. Epel’s was, of course, carved with incredible detai l— a miniature masterpiece of intricate patterns, as he was used to carve apples. Jack’s was simple and classic, just like him. And Sebek, determined to outshine the rest, carved an elaborate dragon that he claimed was a tribute to his master, Malleus.

“Not bad, huh?” Ace said, admiring their work. “I mean, I could probably sell mine for way more than any of yours, but still.” He smirked, dodging a playful punch from Deuce.

“We’ll see about that,” You shot back, wiping your hands on your overalls. “Who wouldn’t want to buy one of mine?”

Throughout the day, the first-years ran the stand, chatting with students and selling their carved pumpkins. Sebek was surprisingly the best salesperson, his loud voice catching everyone’s attention and his pride making each pumpkin sound like a royal treasure. Epel made sure every customer left with a smile, slipping them a little extra vine or a perfect pumpkin seed as a token. Even Grim, though not directly involved in the growing process, found himself helping out, lured by the promise of sharing in the profits.

With their pumpkins carved, the group turned to the next phase of their plan. They set up a small stand by the gate, decorating it with the leftover vines and smaller pumpkins. A hand-painted sign read, "Pumpkins for Sale! Buy 1, Get 1 Free (if you can guess who carved it)!" It was Ace’s idea, of course, to add a little game to attract more customers. They were soon joined by curious students from other dorms, many who had heard about the little farm project and wanted to see the fruits (or rather, gourds) of their labor.

You still were surprised that their idea really attracted people. Even Sam was there, examining the pumpkins.

By the end of the evening, the pumpkin patch looked a bit emptier, but your pockets were a little heavier. All of you were tired, but it was the good kind of tired, where your cheeks hurt from smiling and your muscles ache in a satisfying way. As you sat together on the steps of Ramshackle, trapped between Deuce and Ace, watching the last of the daylight fade, there was a warm sense of accomplishment between them.

“This was a good idea,” Jack said, breaking the comfortable silence. “We should do it again next year.”

“Yeah,” Epel said, stretching out his arms. “Maybe we’ll even beat the big guys at their own game. Imagine if this little patch becomes the talk of Halloween.”

"What if other dorms try to do something like this, though?" You asked them.

You had so much fun those past few months, working at their side after clubs ended and the homework was made. You laughed, you chased them when they teamed up to tease you. Overall, it was the most fun you had since coming to this world.

Ace, who was using your left shoulder as a pillow, leaned up so he could see your eyes. "If this happens..." he looked at the other boys before catching your eyes again. "Then we'll crush them, no doubt."

"Figuratively speaking, right?"

Deuce smiled spread through his face as Epel laughed and Sebek and Jack tried to hide their face from you.

"Yeah... Figuratively speaking, of course, Prefect."

The others nodded, their eyes bright with ideas about what to do if the other students tried to do something like that.

As the night settled in, the carved pumpkins flickered warmly, casting playful shadows across the yard. And you felt as if, for just a moment, like you were back home with your small, happy family — gathered around a shared project, their laughter and camaraderie filling the air with something brighter than any candle could provide.

If you were here the next year, then you wanted to do the same thing with them again. And if you aren't... You wanted them to continue that little tradition.

[pars-ley]

Title: Come Alive (part two) Pairing: Jackson Wang x f reader Summary: Having not heard from Jackson since he pretended to be your boyfriend to ward off unwanted attention, you try to push him out of your mind, that is until you run into him when you least expect it. Genre: Fake dating au / strangers to lovers au / heartbreak / angst / fluff / smut Rating: 15 (Nsfw-smut in future chapters) Warnings: some brief mild "friendly" threatening behaviour / foul language W/C: 2.2k Banner: @nixiecreates creating pure perfection. Beta: @seokgyuu thank you so much for you kind and encouraging words Tag list: @foofarny @kzokssb @galadrielthepsycho @sumzysworld @vminjackbaddie Notes: just a short chapter as I'm easing into the story that will unfold. I'm so excited. Please like, comment, reblog as it really helps!

"Can I get a medium latte and a slice of the lemon sponge, please?” You ask the barista, at the coffee shop around the corner from your apartment.

“Uh, sure, to have in or takeaway?” He responds with a bright smile, seeming slightly over the top.

“Have in, please.” 

He nods enthusiastically, “coming right up, tap when you're ready.” He points to the contactless card machine and rushes off to make your drink. “Swap with me.” He whispers to the other worker at the coffee machine, practically shoving him out of the way. Frowning, bewildered by his behaviour you shrug it off and make your payment before heading to the other end of the counter to wait for your order.

Taking a quick glance at the seating, you are pleased to see there are a few tables you can choose from, much to your relief. You need to get some work done and with your upstairs neighbours having renovations in their apartment, the noise there is almost impossible. So you came to your sanctuary, your favourite coffee shop with not only the best coffee, but most importantly, the best cakes. 

“Here you are.” The barista says with that same wide, slightly manic looking grin, as he hands you the tray. “Call me, anytime.” He whispers, but still loud enough for the people in the queue to hear, resulting in their quiet sniggers. You glance down at your order and see the scrawl of some numbers on your napkin and your face heats, only made worse by the fact you can feel so many eyes on you. Smiling awkwardly, you blurt out, “Sorry, I have a boyfriend,” before taking the tray and making a quick escape to your table by the window. 

Once seated you spin the cup to take a proper look at it.

The name ‘Lyle’ stares at you in bold, messy italics. Groaning to yourself, you turn the cup back back around and set your bag on the seat next to you, pulling out your laptop and hoping that the eyes you could still feel on you were only your imagination. 

You most definitely did not want to call him. Especially since you still haven't forgotten about Jackson. It has been a month since you met him at the club and you've had no text or call from him whatsoever and yet, he has crossed your mind more regularly than you would care to admit.

You shrug the thought away as you load up your work and dig into your cake, relishing the sharp lemon flavour of the sponge combined perfectly with the sweetness of the drizzled icing on top.

“Does this boyfriend have a name?” a voice beside your table startles you, your fork freezing in mid air while your mind races to come up with an answer for the persistent barista.

Glancing up at him, determined to continue your lie, you start, “l-” but stop when you see a familiar face smiling down at you. “Jackson?” you drop your fork and stand up to greet him. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and kisses you lightly on the cheek, lingering a little too long for just a casual greeting. “It’s great to see you, y/n.”

You can’t help smiling up at him, your bodies almost pressed against each other and radiating intense heat between the tiny gap. 

“y/n?” Another voice sounds and a smiling face appears from behind him.

“Do I know you?” you wonder.

“No, no, sorry, I’m Mark, Jackson’s friend, but boy, have I heard a lot about you.” he grins.

Arching a brow you peer up at Jackson and note the faint flush of pink dusting across his cheeks and have to fight the amusement that tugs at your mouth. “Good things, I hope?”

“Oh, yes, very,” is all Mark responds, snapping his mouth shut when Jackson throws him a deathly glare. Biting your lip in an attempt to keep your excitement and amusement at bay and watch as Jackson turns your coffee cup towards him, looking at the numbers written there, “so, is this boyfriend real or did you need a fake one again?” 

The smirk that plays on his lips has your heart pounding against your ribcage, creating a tune just to serenade him with.

“I guess I could have really used your assistance again.” 

He laughs and then his eyes fall serious, seeming unsure of what he wanted to say.

“So still no boyfriend, huh?” Mark interrupts the silence, as he stares very obviously at Jackson.

You shrug, “nope, I seem to have this problem…” tapping your chin thoughtfully, “where guys don't call me.” 

Jackson groans and dips his head into his hands, “I know, I know, I was going to call, but then…” he hesitates, searching for the right words.

“He was being a little bitch about his ex,” Mark interrupts, “but, he's over that now, aren't you?” he scolds and you have to fight the urge to laugh.

“Yes, definitely.” Jackson responds staring intently at you, eyes burning through you and starting a surprisingly intense heat inside you. “I'm sorry, I should have at least sent a text.”

“Hey, if you're not ready, you're not ready, can't help meeting at shitty timing.” you smile graciously, trying to hide your disappointment and hoping you're succeeding.

“I'm ready, now,” he insists, stepping closer to you. “If I haven't blown my chance?”

Your heart hammers so loud in your chest, you can barely hear his words, but the resounding scream inside your head tells you what you've decided. “Why don't you message me and find out?”

He beams at you and nods, “yes, for sure.”

Your cheeks warm slightly and you have to break eye contact, if you want your brain to ever work normally again. Getting lost in his eyes is dangerously easy.

“Miss, are these guys bothering you?” A voice sounds next to you and your eyes drift slowly over following the sound. Who should it be? None other than Lyle, the barista. Thinking he's being a knight in shining armour, when in reality he's disturbing a moment you have hoped for since the night you met Jackson.

You bite your lip, as the awkwardness only continues to grow as you watch Lyle sneer at the two of them, it would almost be laughable if you weren't so disappointed by the interruption. 

Jackson glances slyly at you, a devilish smirk playing across his mouth and as if you can read his mind, you give him a sly wink.

Jackson steps towards him, glancing at the barista's badge, “Lyle, is it?”

He nods in response, suddenly seeming unsure of himself for butting in.

“I really appreciate the concern for my girlfriend, thank you for checking in on her and her well-being,” Jackson's hand lands on Lyle's shoulder, meant as a friendly gesture but you can tell it's also a warning by the firm grips he holds. He picks up your coffee cup and turns it towards Lyle, “and as you can gather, she won't be calling you. No hard feelings, right?”

Lyle shakes his head quickly, cheeks slightly pink and spins on his heels, making his way back behind the counter.

“Thank you.” You fight back a laugh. “you come to my rescue once again.” 

“Always happy to be your fake boyfriend.” he beams at you.

“Or,” Mark chimes in again, “you could just date each other, then you could be her real boyfriend.” He mimes bashing your head's together which would have made you laugh ordinarily but you're hyper focused on Jackson's reaction to that.

He fixes Mark with a hard stare before turning back to you. “I'm sorry, I'm really out of practice with dating.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I'll call you later today and we can arrange a date? I mean, if you'd like to, that is? I don't mean to assume.” His face flushes pink and you can't help but bite your lip from the sight.

“I would love to, but,” you pause just to torture him a little more, “why don't you give me your number this time, in case you chicken out again.”

He gives you a bashful grin before pulling out his phone, typing away and then returning it to his pocket. “Done.”

You feel your cell vibrate in the back pocket of your jeans. “Ok, then.”

Both smiling at eachother like idiots, you're interrupted by Mark once again, “ok, lovebirds, we better get going so we're not late for the game.”

“Game?” You wonder.

“Basketball, a group of us play every week.” Jackson glances down at his watch. “Shit, you're right.” He takes a step towards you, “sorry, I've got to go but I promise I'll call you tonight.”

You nod, excitement blooming like roses in your stomach but a small whisper in the back of your mind does not want to get your hopes up again.

His fingers gently clasp your hand, and pull it up to his mouth, he presses his lips to the back of your knuckles, an action that almost has you swooning but you manage to stay upright.

“Really great to meet you!” Mark calls, as he heads towards the exit, drawing people's eyes in your direction.

Jackson backs away without another word, glancing back at you until he's out the door and out of sight.

You sit down, feeling dazed, your hand feels cold where his lips touched your skin, burning them with the memory of the tender kiss. Opening up your laptop and attempting to focus on today's tasks proves difficult when all you can think about is the hopeful impending conversation you would have with him later.

Pulling out your phone, remembering that he'd messaged you, so you could save his number and you see the text. Your mouth stretches in Cheshire grin before you can stop it seeing his message:

Unknown: can't wait to speak later

Just that simple sentence had you giddy and feeling like a love sick idiot. You also couldn't wait till later. 

*

Signing out at 5pm on the dot, you pack away your work things now you are back home. The renovations were still ongoing, the noise reverberating through your apartment like wildfire, making plans in your head to go out for dinner, until your phone rings, halting all other thoughts.

You see Jackson's name on your screen, scrambling to answer it and taking a deep breath to quell the excitement before you speak.

“Well, this is a nice surprise.” you start, sounding a lot cooler than you feel.

His deep laughter vibrates your ear, sending delicious shivers down your spine. “There's no chickens here today, ma’am.”

You can't help but laugh at his reference to your earlier comment. “I can see that. Nice to hear from you. How was the game?”

Settling on your sofa, pulling you legs up to get cosy, you listen in. 

“Yea, good, my team won, of course.” 

How can his voice sound even more devastating over the phone? Every word drips with velvet.

“There's nothing wrong with your ego, is there?” you tease.

“Not when it comes to things I know I'm good at.”

“And I bet you're good at many things.” the words leave your mouth before you can stop them, hanging in the air thick and heavy, until he speaks.

“I guess you'll just have to stick around and find out.”

You hold in the squeal that's bursting to escape, as more loud bangs and drilling sound around you.

“What on earth is that sound?” He asks.

Letting out a frustrated sigh you explain about your neighbours and your plans to stay out this evening, hoping when you return the noise would have dissipated somewhat.

“If you're free tonight, why don't we have dinner?” He asks, sounding nervous for the first time today.

Biting your lip and grinning you nod frantically, “oh sorry,” you laugh, realising he can't see you, “I was nodding. I would love that.”

“Ok, great, I'll pick you up in half an hour?”

“Perfect.” Holy fuck, you need to get ready fast.

You text him your address and raid your wardrobe, opting for a black dress with flat shoes, something simple but classic so you would fit whatever type of restaurant you go to. Your hair is beyond saving, so you pull it up in a rough bun, which for once turns out great. You neaten the very minimal makeup you have on when your doorbell goes. Your heart hammers wildly in your chest, galloping like a horse that carries you to your front door. Pulling it open, your mind goes blank seeing him standing there all in black. A fitted black t-shirt, with black trousers and shoes, he looked devastating in such a simple ensemble.

“You look…” swallowing and trying to appear calm, “amazing.”

His answering smile almost floors you. “I was thinking the same thing, you look beautiful. And we match.”

Looking down at your outfit you can't help but laugh at the coincidence. 

“Are you ready to go?” He asks.

Nodding, you grab your bag and keys and lock up. His fingers entwine through yours and he searches your eyes for permission, smiling as you give his hand a reassuring squeeze. It feels nice, the simple action of your hands clasped together, natural and comfortable. Your usual first date nerves have evaporated, maybe it's because you've spent time with him already, maybe it's because you know what it's like to kiss him, or maybe he's just a good match for you. Only time will tell.

[w2soneshots]

20vs1 -W2S

words: 1.3k

warnings: none.

summary: you are asked to be on the sidemen’s 20vs1.

Liked by sidemen and 901,452 others

y/username: guess what I'm filming today🤫

-comments-

y/nfanpage21: ooo I'm excited to find out❤️

user30781614: SIDEMEN LIKED OMFG🤭

-> user91368481: y/n x sidemen ahh!!!

A month ago... "Rach!" I shouted through my apartment. "Ye?" my roommate Rachel shouted before appearing in my doorway. "Do you know who the sidemen are?" I asked her. "Yes, they're massive on YouTube, why?" She replied plonking herself next to me on the bed. "They just asked me to be in one of their videos." She shot upright "what! Did you say yes?" She asked excitedly. "Umm, I haven't replied yet, are they weirdo's?" I asked since she knew of them. She laughed aloud "no I don't think so." she said with a giggle. "It says they want me to film a "twenty versus one", what's that?" I said flipping my phone around to show her the email. "That's a series, they do, let me just show you." she grabbed the control and flipped on my tv.

That night I went through a rabbit hole, researching these people. I wanted to make sure they weren't creeps before agreeing to be in a their video. They had a pretty massive following and there videos were entertaining. I eventually decided it'd be fun so agreed to be in the video. When I told Rach she was ridiculously excited.

Today is the day of the shoot. All I'd been given was a location and a time, so I got up early to get ready. I took a shower, dried and straightened my hair, did my makeup (adding extra powder so I wouldn't shine in the studio lights) then got dressed into a black, tight play suit, an oversized denim jacket and some black four inch heeled boots. Once I was finished I sprayed myself with my favourite perfume, grabbed my bag and left my apartment.

After a 30 minute drive my uber finally pulled up outside the filming location which just looked like a large building. I thanked him and slid out of the car. Just as I was walking towards the front entrance I was greeted by a woman who said her name was Tanya and that she was the head of production. "She seems nice" I thought as she led me inside. She brought me to a green room with multiple other women, and a table with drinks and food. I sat down on one of the chairs. "wait, are you y/n y/l/n?!" One of the girls asked me. I nodded "yep, that's me." I replied with a light smile. "Omg I love your vlogs!" She announced excitedly. "Thank you!" I said appreciatively.

Almost 20 minutes later all twenty of us were taken through into a small hallway, and formed into a queue. I was sixth and when it was my turn I walked out and stood on the marked spot on the white floor. "Hi, how are you?" I asked who I learned from my stalking was Harry. "Not great to be honest." he replied, clearly not enjoying this shoot. I laughed slightly "just breathe." I said breathing deeply in and out. He copied my actions and did the same. He smiled "yes." he said, flicking his hand towards the door then I heard a cheer from another room. "Thank you." I said politely and walked off the set.

Ten minutes later everyone was sent back into the room and we all stood in an oval shape facing the camera. Then Harry walked in and greeted us "hello everyone, I said yes to way too many people so if you don't like me please- leave." he chuckled then turned around to face the camera. Five people left leaving nine of us. Harry opened his eyes and turned back around "I'll take that, I'll take that, I'll take that, I'll take that," he repeated quickly "thank you very much. alright, I'll see you shortly, I guess." Then he left and all of us were taken back to the green room.

I sat there for well over two hours waiting, since I was the last one. Once it was finally my turn, I was taken back to the studio, by Tanya. "You'll do great!" she said with a light pat on my back just before I entered the room. I was reattached to a mic and then told to sit down on the comfy looking chair. Harry entered a few minutes later and I stood up to greet him with a hug. "Hello again, sorry you've been waiting so long." he said politely, before sitting down. I smiled "no problem." He took a breath in "so what's your name?" "y/n." I replied. "And what do you do?" He asked. "For fuck sake I hate this question" I thought. "I do YouTube." I replied. His eyes lit up slightly "oh, what kind of videos do you make?" He asked, sitting forward in his chair. "Vlogs, beauty stuff, outfits, that kind of thing." I said counting them on my fingers. "Oh cool." he said with a nod of his head.

The date lasted just under 15 minutes. From the video Rach showed me it seemed that these weren't just normal dates but it felt completely normal to me... actually in the other video there was one date where the man was just told to be himself, so maybe that was what was happening. We talked about what both of our favourite movies were, we found out we both lived in London and when I asked if he was into football he explained that that was what his YouTube channel was based off, along with an online game to do with football.

Once the date finished, we hugged goodbye and he left. Then I was asked two questions by the main camera man: what I thought about him and if I would go on another date. "I thought he was a really sweet and seemed interested in our convo. I will definitely go on another date with him." and as I said those words, I heard in eruption of cheers in another room, which Tanya had now explained was the other members of the sidemen watching the dates. I laughed slightly then stood up. I quickly had my mic taken off, then went to collect my things from the green room. As I was grabbing my things Tanya popped back into the room to ask me something, "the boys were just wondering if you could come and see them so they could thank you for coming." she asked. I smiled "of course."

She took me through a corridor, and then down a smaller hallway and into a room. There was a group of boys stood up in front of around six TVs that I assumed they had been watching the dates on. "Hey, nice to meet you, thanks for coming!" who I knew to be JJ said putting his hand out for a handshake. I shook his hand and said "thank you for having me." They all introduced themselves to me and we stood talking for a few minutes. Just before I left I heard my name "y/n!" I turned around to see Harry stood in front of me "I was just wondering... if it was okay with you, I could get your number?" he asked. I smiled "sure." He passed me his phone I typed my phone number in. "there." I said, passing his phone back to him. "thank you." he said with a sheepish smile. I waved the other boys goodbye before I left the building.

The next day, I got a text from Harry asking if he could take me out on a "second" date, and obviously I said yes.

[niko-sasaki-dbd]

Queue Interview with the Dead Boy Detectives Cast 👻🔎

This is going to be a long post! (These are my favourite parts from the interview!)

George Rexstrew as Edwin Payne

Acting Inspiration

Oh, gosh. Well there are so many. Meryl Streep, obviously. Viola Davis, obviously. More recently, I was blown away by Enzo Vogrincic in Society of the Snow. And Eden Dambrine in Close.

Cast Camaraderie

I loved working with all my co-stars. I’m practically related to Jayden [Revri] and Kassius [Nelson] at this point. Yuyu [Kitamura] is a dream. Jenn [Lyon] is mother hen. Bri[ana Cuoco] is the cool older sister. Josh[ua Colley] is the cheeky cousin. Ruth [Connell] is the godmother who gives you a card and £20 for your birthday. It really is one big happy dysfunctional family. I’m grateful for all of them, on and off camera.

Jayden Revri as Charles Rowland

Dressing The Part

These heads of departments, and Monique and Kelli, [they’re] unbelievable. They were so collaborative. We went through different hairstyles and different things we could do with the makeup. We added a bit of eyeliner for [Charles] just to make it feel more 80s. And then Kelli, I mean, it was like she did her research on me. She added badges to the jacket which kind of represented me as Jayden, before I even got there. It wasn’t until I got the haircut, put the makeup on, put the costume on, and I was like, Okay, this is Charles.

Cast Camaraderie.

The vibe was just incredible. Me and George, we really wanted to set the tone for the series and make sure that everyone’s having fun and it’s an environment where we could all talk about how we’re feeling. We were just such a big support blanket for each other. If there was ever a time that somebody needed space, or they wanted to prep themselves for a certain scene they were going to film, we all respected that and we were each other’s cheerleaders the whole entire time. And it’s still the same to this day now. I think it really shows when you watch the series that we all knew what we were making and we wanted to make something that we would want to watch, which we’ve all done. I cannot shout out my castmates enough. Forever grateful.

Kassius Nelson as Crystal Palace

Acting Inspiration

I watched a lot of animation. I used to watch the Addams Family, the black-and-white one, because I didn’t have Disney Channel or anything. Monk, Murder She Wrote, I was watching those things, so maybe I was actually destined to play a detective, now that I’m thinking about it. I watched a lot of cartoons and animations. I just liked the idea that I could be engrossed in another world. And I always wanted to know what happened next, or when the film finished, I would be like, “Okay, but then what? What happens after that?” And now I get to be part of that question or that answer (...).

Dressing the Part

We have a fantastic costume designer, Kelli Dunsmore. I always say that she literally wove the story into the fabric of the clothes, because there are things that she foreshadowed in the clothing that happened episodes later. Or, if characters start to get in some sort of relationship with each other, that will be reflected in the clothes that they wear or the colors that they have. Or, if they’re feeling any type of emotion, (...)l. Crystal wears these massive platform boots that must be about four or five inches. They’re huge, very heavy, but it’s funny because they change the way that you walk. (...) She’s not very light, which makes sense with the things that she’s going through and the experiences that she’s having. Practically, it helped, because Jayden and George are like six-foot-something. So, if I film a scene and I’m at the bottom of the lens and they’re up there, that helped. I’ve got a good couple inches on my feet.

Yuyu Kitamura as Niko Sasaki

Acting Inspiration

Sandra Oh is a woman that I will forever be indebted to because who she was on Grey’s Anatomy was so formative for me. The most interesting thing about her character was not that she was Asian, but that she was such a fully fleshed person with flaws and amazing qualities. And her work ever since I think has been iconic, so she’s a woman that I deeply look up to.

Landing the role in Dead Boy Detectives

I auditioned from Hong Kong and my dad was my reader because all of my acting friends were in New York. My dad was able to carve out time and be an amazing reader. And in that audition side, it’s the scene where Niko gets to see the “Dead Boys” for the first time, and there’s a line in there that was something along the lines of me talking to Edwin and asking, “Do you two make out with each other?” And my dad stopped the tape and he was like, “What are you reading for?” And I was like, “Don’t give me notes, it’s fine!” And so that was the audition process! I think within a month I found out I got the part and it’s been an absolute dream ever since.

Dressing the Part

(...) I think on paper Niko can seem like a certain type of character, but even in the choice of every costume we did, every color that she wears, every meticulous little piece about everything from her nails to her room, it’s so well curated and thought out. Through her journey, we also find that she’s a woman that wears what she feels. On the surface, she might seem like the most joyful, young, optimistic girl, but it’s the inner confidence and bravery where we find that she’s layered, and she is very much a young woman coming of age.

SOURCE: MEET THE REAL DEAD BOY DETECTIVES (AND FRIENDS)

[skyeslittlecorner]

On the other side - Andrealphus

I have no idea who proposed it because sadly I can't find it (found you! Thanks for inspiration @\rae-pss!), but someone came up with an idea of what would happen if the characters from WHB started to realize that the MC was not us. That there is someone on the other side of the screen who takes care of them. I created a little silly fic loosely interpreting it.

Word count: 1284

Other parts: On the other side | Promised Land | Point to point | Love is blind (18+)

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

Life is so repeatable. Work, eat, sleep, work, eat, sleep, work, eat, sleep, only with some little pleasures in between. You took off jacket, threw it away and plopped down at the chair. Old phone landed on a table as you were struggling with thoughts whether to eat instant noodles today or heat up yesterday's dinner.

"Come on, boys." You turn on game and tapped loading screen just from boredroom. "I don't have all evening."

You wanted to have a pet, you've considered it a lot. But with these earnings, the closest thing to an animal in this house were fish sticks. So all that had left to do was talk to fictional hot guys. At least they don't need to be feed.

When Andrea appeared on the display, you tapped on him with a smile.

"Hi, babygirl."

"Who’s there…?"

You've never seen this speech bubble before. Update? But nothing downloaded, and any additional files were in a queue. Well, maybe it was one of those little tweaks nobody notice. You tapped the screen about three hundred more times to see if there were any new voice lines, but this time everything was the same. Maybe it was just a combination of overactive imagination and tiredness. Yes. Instant noodles will be a better option, you will make them faster and go to bed faster.

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

"…and then this stupid bitch said it was all my fault." 

Lying half on the chair, half on the desk, and half somewhere in between, you were chatting with a friend on Discord and doing tasks for nightmare pass.

"That sucks. What are you going to do about it?"

"No idea. But if they take my bonus because of her, I'll kill her, I swear."

"I hope everything will be fine, but I have to go. Sorry."

"Yeah… Have fun on a date."

"Thanks!"

Hearing the disconnection sound, you sighed. Obviously, you couldn't blame them, keeping fingers crossed that they had found their other half of orange, but now they didn't even have time to meet for coffee, and you lived three minutes' walk from each other. Talking together, joking together, everything faded into the background. In addition, work was getting worse...

"I also hope everything will work out"

The voice sounded different. Familiar. But they definitely weren't your friend. You quickly checked the screen to see if anyone had joined the voice chat, but the screen was blank.

"What… Who? How?" Of course, there was no one around the room. Is this the beginning of hallucinations?

"I'd like to ask this too."

The voice that came from the speakers. From the telephone. From...?

The phone screen showed only a familiar sprite turning its head from side to side.  You forgot about the strange update from a few days ago. Was that it again? Andrea's red braid was beautifully animated, and facial expressions changed, delicate movements of the eyebrows and lips showed new emotions. It really looked stunningly real.

"Gorgeous." You complimented in a whisper godly work of the animator. "I can't wait until you get L, since you already look so sexy as S..."

"What are S and L...?"

He answered without tapping. Moreover, he tilted his head as if listening. There's been a lot of talk about AI lately, but you didn't agree to use the microphone in game… Unless it's some stinky term of services. This needs to be turned off, it will probably be in the settings. But after checking options, there was nothing like that there.

"Strange…"

"Trust me, I find it unnatural too." Andrea replied with an uncertain smile. "I hear you, but I don't feel anyone around me. But your voice… It’s nice. Can you keep talking? It feels good to be less... alone."

He sounded so much in character. Whoever programmed this, put a lot of work into it. It was a little weird... but you were so tired and done that chatting with the AI seemed like a nice change.

"Sure. It's weird talking to the screen, but well, I do it all the time anyway. Good thing it’s only an AI, because if anyone heard half the nonsense I moan, they'd probably send me to solitary confinement."

"You're calling grown man babygirl."

"Because you are!"

He chuckled, and it felt almost like a talking to an actual human. Muttering such nonsense, you felt ashamed for a moment. If the government suddenly started eavesdropping, the agent who was in charge was such a poor man.

"Tell me something else." He asked. "I've been hearing your voice for several days. I'd like to finally know who I'm having the pleasure of talking with."

He didn't have to ask twice. Of course, without providing any personal details, but you could give him your name. And told about that stupid bitch at work...

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

You checked tumblr, checked X, and checked the official website of the game. There was no word about an update anywhere, and after writing that this new option with talking to devils was great, all mutuals started to worry if everything was okay or asked how to unlock it. What were you supposed to tell them? That it just appeared?

What's worse, you started to treat Andrea like an ordinary person. A human being. Turning on the game during cleaning, cooking or making bed, talking to that little devil on the screen, and... listening to his stories. He spoke so beautifully. Talked about how he likes to spend his time (if not murdering angels), or what everyday life in Nilfheim is like. Sometimes he worried about the war, sometimes was happy when you stayed with him longer being off work.

"My blindness is truly a gift." He said one day with a dreamy smile.

"Why so?"

"In this daily hustle, if my eyes were still working properly, I certainly wouldn't be able to hear you, a small voice in my consciousness. I thought there was something wrong with me. But when I finally focused, you heard me too."

What he said was so similar to what you remembered about own feelings. Longing tightened your chest, longing for someone who didn't exist in this world, and that feeling turned into pain.

"I'm also glad we can hear from each other." Your voice changed noticeably. 

Andrea sensed it.

"Now that we've been able to talk, maybe one day we'll be able to touch each other?" He held his hand out in front of him, but you knew he couldn't pass through the screen. Still, you placed a finger where his hand was. Stupid mind was tricking you that you could feel his warmth. Tears came to your eyes.

"One day." You whispered with a trembling voice. "I don't know how, but one day we will."

"Do not cry, please. I don't want you to ever cry because of me.”

You tried to keep calm, but it was no use. Maybe one day, in another time, in another reality. Maybe it will work. No, it has to work. No matter how crazy others might think you were, this wasn't the world you were supposed to stay in. Your intended one waited patiently on the other side of the screen. You just didn't know how to do it. Not yet.

[cemeteryspider]

Ballet on the Bayou ~ Pt. 2

Alastor x Ballerina! Reader

Summary: The rise and the fall of an up and coming ballerina

Trigger Warnings: Graphic injury, bullying, physical pain, hospital setting

Word Count: 1516

Previous | Next

Ballet on the Bayou Masterlist

Practice had left you a tad sore and achy but that went away, as you peeked from the wings into the crowd. The place was practically packed with people. The speakers rang with static and announced the beginning of the show in a moment.

The lights in the crowd dimmed and you ran towards the backstage and allowed a deep breath to escape your lips, and you awaited your queue.

~~~

Earlier that same day...

"Ladies and Gentleman, Alastor signing off for the night but before I go, we have a truly special performance at Louisiana's favorite opera hall tonight, the Orpheum Theater, for a timeless classic. The Magnificent Swan Lake, starring up-and-coming ballerina Y/n L/n"

~~~

Alastor and his mother sat in the very middle of the audience. He hoped to never miss a moment of you. He had already called up a couple of friends and had a special gift sent to your dressing room after the performance.

They sat down before the lights dimmed, and his mother watched in awe as the curtains parted revealing a sparkling moonlit forest scene. Some dancers of the trope glided across the stage with the same grace as the swans they were dressed as.

Alastor looked carefully at every dancer, suddenly angry that he forgot to ask the beauty her part in the show. Then in a moment, the star of the show appeared onstage, and it was you.

You transform the scene and the other dancers gather round to create a captivating ensemble. The ensemble dances with such grace and unity it could be mistaken for a kaleidoscope of shapes.

You begin a graceful solo, dancing to the melancholic orchestra below. With a swift crescendo, the villain of the story jumps in, and Alastor could only assume, with his limited knowledge of the ballet, that turned you into a swan.

~~~

After the first act, you quickly rush into your dressing room to change into your Odile costume. This was the most stunning costume you had ever put on. You hoped that Alastor was in the audience to see it.

"Ah, while it isn't the perfect person to play to a two-faced bitch"

Louise said, barging into your private dressing room. Followed closely by her two friends whose names were never offered to you. You only knew Louise because her Daddy paid a fortune to have her be in the running for the two leads of the ballet. However, when the casting directors saw your performance they immediately put you on for both roles, as was tradition.

Trying to be civil you said, "Louise, it is a pleasure to see you as well".

"Yes well, I just wanted to stop by and tell you to break a leg this weekend" She giggled a little and stalked out of the room. Leaving your brows knitted together in confusion. The show must go on, however, and you finished getting ready for the rest of the show.

It didn't even come to your mind that Louise's jealousy could bubble so close to the surface.

~~~

Once again sitting in his seat after helping his mother to get a drink of water and stretch her legs, he quietly anticipated your return to the stage.

Again the lights dimmed and the curtains parted to reveal you dressed in black immersed in the blue lighting that surrounded you. With an air of mystery, you began your dance. Your legs were a symphony of strength and elegance, that wove a wonderful tapestry across the stage. The fluidity and grace you possessed were mesmerizing as you danced across the stage.

When you looked into the audience he could only hope you saw his awe in the darkness. Your eyes held so much passion yet an air of deceit from the character you portrayed. Every pirouette beckons the audience to come closer and experience the darkness and desire you emanated.

Then you made eye contact with the prince onstage, and your movements somehow became more intoxicating. The tempo quickened and when the music was at its loudest you started a series of dazzling turns that left not a single jaw dropped.

Your final pose was one of power and passion, and you held it as the last notes of the music lingered. The crowd left only a moment between the end of the number and a thunderous applause. Alastor happily joined in.

~~~

After bows, you ran into your dressing room quickly to touch up your makeup before going out and looking for Alastor. On the little vanity in the room was a dozen red roses with a little notecard, From Alastor. Your smile widened infinitely as you rushed out of the dressing room to go find him, forgetting completely about the makeup.

In the foyer, your eyes looked frantically around as other dancers looked to the more wealthy patrons of the opera house for a drink or two. You almost went to join them when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You were greeted with a wide smile and a hand held out for yours.

"You were just magnificent, mon cherie, just brilliant"

You let out a small embarrassed chuckle, as you turned to face him fully.

Once your hand was held in his, he kissed your knuckles just as he had the night before. A small blush crept up your cheeks and you began asking him all about the show, and his favorite parts of it.

~~~

Alastor did not miss a performance the whole week you were there, his mother sadly did not feel up to going to any more of your lovely performances.

Time after time, there would be a new dozen of red roses in your dressing room after your bows, but never at intermission. You would have to ask him how he was doing that. Each night you became more infatuated with the man coming to your shows.

With every bouquet Alastor sent you, something pulled on his heart strings. He knew you would not be in town forever, and he would need to discuss your plans for the future. He hoped he would be included in them.

However, during the last performance you had in New Orleans, something unexpected happened. One of the swans in the opening scene had stuck her leg out in front of one of your beautiful turns. She had a sly grin on her face as she watched you fall, her friends faces mirrors of her own.

Alastor heard the sickening crack as your ankle bent a way it should never bend. Alastor's eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat as he witnessed Y/n's fall. The gasp of the crowd drowned in the turmoil of his emotions. A sickening feeling settled in the pit of his stomach, and he couldn't tear his gaze away.

Never in his many years did he think an injury would make him squirm, especially considering his hobby, but this made his insides thrash in his stomach.

You did not make a peep, you just allowed yourself to be gracefully carried off stage by the man who played the prince.

~~~

Once the backstage door closed behind you, you let out the bloodcurdling scream anyone in the hallway had ever heard.

Your foot dangled from your shattered ankle bone and you saw everything you worked so hard for disappear in front of your eyes. Tears rolled freely down your face and Charles set you down in a chair. He gave you a sad look as he ran back to the stage to see if the show would go on.

You knew that it was Louise's foot that caused your fall, and you knew it would be Louise who would go on in your stead. A wave of dizziness washed over you as Alastor came into your line of sight.

Alastor's voice, usually calm and composed, betrayed a hint of urgency as he spoke."Cher, they've already called an ambulance. It's on its way. Darling, I am so sorry" He knelt next to you and put a cold soft drink bottle against your ankle. You flinched slightly, but Alastor put his hand on your leg to keep you still.

"I shouldn't have shown her up, Alastor, otherwise I would still be on that stage, on any stage"

"What do you mean?"

"Louise, she did this, she wanted my part"

Louise was the bitch who tripped you and caused your "accident". He kept that name in mind for later, but now you were his only priority. He saw the wagon-looking car pull up outside. Gently he set the bottle down and hoisted you into his arms.

As you made your way to the ambulance with the help of Alastor you couldn't help but think of what you were leaving behind. The pain in your ankle mirrored the pain in your heart as you were carried outside. How could everything you've worked so hard for be gone before it could even really begin?

You tucked your teary face into his chest, and for some reason, he did not seem to mind it at all.

[lenaariewrld]

C.16 — are u mad at me (w) *

ON THE AIR — childe x reader smau

| SYNOPSIS;; Teyvat University’s popular radio personality, Y/n L/n, has only one gripe with her life. Her classmate, neighbour, and all-around nuisance in her life, Tartaglia. Their rivalry extends just past academics and, to her horror, into her work. He becomes the music director and co-host for her radio show, working alongside her most nights and forcing himself even deeper into her life. But is he really trying to just be friends, or is there an ulterior motive to his actions?

| WARNING !! this chapter contains explicit content/smut, so minors/ageless blogs PLEASE DNI!! the explicit parts will be marked with *** so anyone who wishes to avoid that can skip it and it won't affect your understanding of the story! other than that, pls enjoy the unedited, very tame filth of this^^

| WC: 6.0k

previous! ~ masterlist ! ~ next!

You, Ganyu, and Keqing were already in the studio when Childe came in with his little grocery haul, a binder tucked in his arms too. He’d taken to bringing physical copies of the script for himself, as well as the cd’s he burned the playlists onto. When he closes the door behind him with a little kick, the conversation the three of you were indulged in came to a temporary halt. You leaned back in your chair and greet him by holding out your hand, wordlessly asking for the treats.

He rolls his eyes, handing over the plastic baggie he was carrying. “Thanks!” You chirp happily, setting the bag on the little table once it was passed to your hands. You dig around, handing Keqing her snack and taking out your own things. You also set Childe’s snacks in front of the empty seat for him. He sets your drink down in front of you and takes his seat.

The whole exchange is mostly wordless and takes only a few seconds before the conversation kicks back in. Keqing gets to business immediately, any of the light-hearted ribbing or mindless chatter traded for her notes about the recording and letting you guys know the mics were extra sensitive that day and to be mindful of your volume. You nod along, dragging your swivel chair behind you as she quickly ushers you and Childe into the booth.

For the third recording in a row, you and Childe work perfectly well together, flowing through the conversations and jokes rather easily. Only, you find yourself getting distracted on occasion. You’re staring. Drifting off when you’re not speaking. Your eyes even, as if on instinct, fall on Childe, watching the way he queues up songs halfway through your sentences, ready to transition into them. Or the way he adjusts himself in his seat while he’s speaking. And you notice how relaxed he looks, a lot more than in the past couple of episodes. Or maybe you’re just now noticing that fact.

And, fuck, he looks good. He’s just wearing a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, a casual enough outfit that really doesn’t let you see much at all and would, in fact, look messy on other people. But it’s fitted enough for him. 

He rolls up his sleeves halfway through or so, and you can’t help the way your eyes drift to his arms, the way his muscles flex as he moves to mess with the buttons and knobs on the desk–adjusting certain things with the mix as it plays –and the way his jaw clenches whenever he swallows a laugh, his adam’s apple bobbing as he settles on chuckling at your half-thought retort to whatever he just said. You notice the way his fingers drum on his thigh when he’s leaning back in his own chair, turning back and forth while you do your own thing.

You can’t help but feel like a nun being drawn to sin. The shame of staring and yet the enticing allure of it turning over in your stomach until it’s sufficiently tangled in little knots.

And maybe it’s because you haven’t gotten properly laid in months, your schedule far too busy once school started for you to have many flings (though, truth be told, you weren’t into the appeal of hookups, really. Only once or twice when you were really desperate but not now). Maybe that’s why your mind keeps being fixated on him and every little habit of his.

Childe catches your eyes only once and you immediately turn away, keeping your eyes squarely on the script or the mic directly in front of you as you keep recording. Your shirt feels too warm on your skin all of a sudden.

Shake it off, ignore it.

You chastise yourself internally. But everytime you blink, your mind goes back to that night at the club. That night a week ago, when you’d lost any good sense still in your head and have yet to regain. Now it was all foggy and grey, the exact memories of what happened a blur, but you remember the feeling and you remember the way your chest felt like a percussionist’s wet dream with how crazy your heart had been racing. You were sure there was some fucked up part of your brain that was still hungover, that had to be the only reason you were still like this.

It takes a grueling amount of time, but finally the recording finishes and Ganyu and Keqing begin to edit over the audio and whatnot, working together once again to put the finished product together before any of y’all call it a night. You sigh and lean your elbows against the edge of the desk, careful not to jostle any of the equipment too badly. Despite how long you’ve spent in this little studio, you weren’t entirely sure how delicate everything was. You barely register the ginger man beside you getting up.

“You… seemed a little out of it,” Childe notices when he comes back, slumping back into his seat with his drink in hand. He balances it on his knee between drinks.

“Did I?” You glance at him from the corner of your eye.

Even casually like this, he’s managed to look attractive. He hasn’t styled his hair at all like he would during the day for classes or outings, and he’s not wearing any makeup like he does on stage, allowing you to see the many freckles dotting his skin from his face down his neck and disappearing behind the navy blue fabric of his hoodie. “I dunno,” He shrugs, taking another sip from his drink before setting the cup on the floor, out of the way. “I mean, you kept spacing out and weren’t as… sharp as you usually are,” He explains.

He shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket, his elbows on the arm rests. “Maybe I’m wrong, though,” He shrugs once again.

You simply hum in response.

It falls silent, the two of you watching the other women as they work away. Two minutes turns to ten and then to twenty, and eventually your brain starts to drift elsewhere. Again, it goes back to that night. Recalling the feeling of Childe’s lips on yours, your skin warm and alive. The way he so desperately held onto you, a hold that seemed like he didn’t want to let go either.

“Finished,” Keqing’s voice jostles you out of your daydream as she announces herself, standing up. You perk up, scooting your chair forward. She shuts off her computer and slides it into its case in her backpack. “I have to go help one of the professors I’m TA’ing for grade papers, so I can’t help shut everything down… Can you guys handle it?” She looks between you and Childe, as if questioning if she can trust the two of you to be left alone without burning the place down. You can’t entirely fault her for her hesitance.

“Oh yeah! Me and Y/n can do it..” Childe assures. He looks at Ganyu when she opens her mouth to speak. “I mean, you probably need your rest too, right? And I think we’ll be fine by ourselves for one night,” He adds. Your eyes widen at his confidence, looking over at him like a deer caught in headlights. Collecting yourself a second later, you nod along. He was just being helpful, he wasn’t insinuating anything. Surely.

Ganyu agrees to head home and try to rest with your assurances, packing up her things and giving you a quick hug. You wish her a goodnight and close the door behind her. Now, you find yourself alone with Childe for the second time in that recording studio.

You’re quiet as you and Childe begin to pack everything up, finding your tasks and rhythm to do things separately. On occasion, you end up reaching for the same cable and you jump back immediately at the contact, refusing to meet his eyes as you turn to do something else. By the eighth occurrence of that happening, the man huffs quietly.

“Y/n, are you mad at me or something?” He asks.

“What? No,” You shake your head, flashing a short placating smile before returning to the cable you were wrapping up. Ever since the two of you started to get along more, Childe seemed to understand your tells and how to read your behavior quickly. It’s terrifying to you that he learned you so well and so fast.

“Then..” He presses his lips together, shuffling his chair closer to yours. “What’s up with you,” He pushes, gently taking the cables from your hands. You lean back dramatically in your chair, letting out a long sigh. Your mind runs through multiple ideas of how you could play off why you’re being out of character. Bad days, overwhelming classwork, or even just being exhausted don’t seem to perfectly dismiss it. You sigh again.

“It’s stupid,”

“Eh, everything sort of is. Doesn’t mean it’s bad,” He replies calmly, leaning down in his chair and tucking the cables under the desk securely. You watch him for a second.

What’s the worst that could happen..?

“The other night,” You begin and he pauses. You know he knows what you’re talking about, remembering the same details you do (or more, since he seems to hold his liquor far better than you). “I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

“Are you uncomfortable with me now because of it? I promise I’m not thinking something of it, and I won’t try anything,”

Childe is quick to assure you and you snort in amusement, running your hand over your face. This situation was absurd. This conversation was absurd! And his responses seemed to be the cherry on top of this cake of weirdness and awkward tension. You fidget with the strings of your cutoff shorts, the hem tangled and messy where you’d distressed it haphazardly.

“No,” You finally admit, dropping your hands and running them over your bare legs. He turns to you then, his brows raised. He says nothing, allowing you to continue, but his interest is piqued. “I mean…” Again, your fingers run over your thighs, your palms massaging away the nerves starting to bubble up. At least, you were attempting to do that. “It’s just been on my mind lately because… it’s…been a while,” You finally manage to say it, throwing all caution to the wind. “Since I was kissed like that,” You add when he continues to stare at you wordlessly.

He blinks. “‘Kissed like that’?” He parrots, sitting up properly in his chair again. He continues to stare at your expression, the rising blush forming on your cheeks and down your neck, the fidgeting of your hands, the way your eyes dart around but not meeting his gaze. When it finally clicks a second later, his face lights up and he looks at you with a simpering smile. “You’re horny, aren’t you?”

You squawk indignantly at his brazen words, swatting at his arm. “Don’t fucking say it like that!” You chastise, fighting the urge to smile. Ridiculous. Childe doesn’t take your faux annoyance seriously, laughing and throwing his head back, fully and completely amused by the turn the conversation took. You roll your eyes, chuckling alongside him.

“I won’t judge,” He says when he finally calms down. “It’s been a hot minute for me too.. It was nice to know I wasn’t… rusty,” He grimaces as he says that last word, scratching the side of his neck almost awkwardly. You chuckle again, nodding in understanding. At least you both seem to be in a similar boat and you’re not a freak for thinking about something like that (not that you would be in normal circumstances, but it feels much deeper knowing the history you two share). The air in the room seems to drop, growing thick in the after of your shared confessions, the two of you silent in contemplation.

Childe stares off at the wall and you once again fidget with your shorts.

What if… 

You’re definitely not drunk, and you’re definitely not under any high-running emotions when the idea comes to you, but it still pops in your head and you still pause as you consider it. Truthfully, you’re not sure what boldness draws you to initiate this time, and you have no excuse other than, perhaps, pure curiosity (that’s gotta be it!). You lean forward in your chair, catching his attention when you grab the arm rest of his chair and pull yourself a little closer, your knees bumping against his.

He looks at you, looks at the hand on his arm rest, and then you again.

You swallow quickly, your stomach tangling itself all up again as you pluck up the courage to speak your mind “Would you… want to test it again?” You ask. Childe’s brows jump up on his forehead as he stares at you incredulously, watching your face. He’s checking your expression, you realise, looking for any hints that you might be teasing him or a sign of mischief. Anything that said you were playing a sick joke on him for what he’d admitted to you.

When you don’t falter or crack a joke, though it takes everything in you to not back down and backtrack in the face of his silence, he nods. It’s almost shy, unsure. He sits up in his chair and scoots forward to meet you halfway. The corners of your mouth fight to pull into a smile, his little mannerisms striking something in your chest. There’s at least three separate times you can rescind your question, but it all goes out the window as he presses his lips to yours.

His kiss is soft this time, unlike the messy fire that the first kiss had been. It ignites you all the same and you kiss him back, insistent against his lips. His reservations seem to melt at your eagerness, at the way you don’t hesitate to tangle your fingers in the curls of his hair, pulling him in deeper.

And then it’s there again, the need and the heady feeling clouding your good decision making when you taste his tongue, whatever slushie he’d been drinking fruity and intoxicating like any alcohol. Maybe even more so. He kisses you like you’re the air he breathes, holding onto the back of your neck, and he leans forward to hover over you. The angle is awkward and would hurt your neck if you gave a shit, but neither of you care at that time, too absorbed in this.

Your lungs scream for air, and he’s sure he’d gladly asphyxiate on your kiss, but you pull him away, tugging at his hair. A low noise rumbles in his throat, his eyes opening just enough to take you in. The sheen of your lips, the string of saliva on your tongues, the flush of your face and the heave of his chest as he takes in the oxygen he unfortunately needs. Childe looks over your face and it’s clear that this isn’t nearly enough. It’s like having a taste of a sweet dessert and expecting either of you to not want more bites.

***

So he dives back in when you wordlessly nod, kissing you breathless once more. Your body arched towards him, a shiver running down your spine as one of his hands slid over your body, down your sides and legs. He held your hips, his lips on your jaw. “Look at you, so clingy all of a sudden..” His voice was thick, lower as he whispered in your ear, a mocking tone in his words that made your skin run hotter than before.

“Childe,” You moan and sigh his name all at once, your nails scratching against his scalp deliciously. It’s exhilarating, a thrill that sets your nerves alight at every touch and motion from him. Your head is starting to float as he continues his attack against your skin, his teeth sending sparks as he nips at your neck.

And he’s strong, dammit, annoyingly so as his hands continue to hold your hips down, restricting the way you want to roll against his body, desperate for friction– for more.

“Childe, please,” He’s ruthless as his kisses trail further down, and he chuckles dryly.

“Already begging?” He cocks his head to the side.

You sneer a little bit at his cocky attitude, tugging harshly at his hair. That elicits another noise from the man, a soft whine as he grabs your waist tighter, almost a bruising touch. Your stomach burns. “Childe, I’m not asking again, give me more,” Your voice is quiet but nonetheless demanding, and Childe relents his teasing. He leans back, situating himself in his chair again and pulling you with him. Obediently, you slide from your chair onto his lap, sighing pleasantly as his fingers trail down your sides and onto your thighs. He glances at you through his lashes, holding you up slightly.

He’s checking for permission, but when you nod, he only smiles in coy innocence. “I don’t speak head shakes, baby,” His fingers massage the fat of your thighs, toying just at the hem of your shorts, dangerously close to where you need him.

With an impatient whine, you lift your hips against his hands. “Fuck me, please,” You concede. Childe hums appreciatively, pulling your knees apart and placing a chaste kiss against your shoulder.

“Good job,” He coos sweetly. The man wastes no time in unbuttoning your shorts and untucking your shirt. He kisses messily at your neck as he pulls the denim down your legs, aiding you in the movement to lift your hips so he can pull them off and toss them to the side. As soon as the cool air hits you, you shiver, your hands sliding from his hair to hold yourself up by his shoulders.

His eyes were glued to you, dark and hungry.

“Aren’t you so pretty?” He says as his hands toy at the edge of your panties. “I’d have done this sooner if I knew how cute you looked all flushed like this.” He teases lightly, smiling.

He doesn’t let you respond before he’s moved on to kissing under your jaw. Your heart jumps at his words, kickstarting a fast pace in your chest. He seems to know this, his eyes glancing at your face and the blush that spreads across your face. Your body temperature raises a million more degrees at the quirk of his brows. And all he’s done is kiss you. His breath is hot, burning you alive.

Goosebumps rise on your skin as his lips stall against your skin, one of his hands dipping between your thighs, experimentally brushing over your clothed cunt. A soft moan escapes you as he circles his finger over your clit, rolling your hips against his hand.

“Fuck,” You grip at the fabric of his hood, grinding on his palm.

“Feels good?” The man laughs, his smile still curled on his lips when you nod a little too eager. His free hand takes hold of your chin, gentle but firm as he pulls you into a kiss. You melt against him, whining as he continues his ministrations over the thin cotton. Childe uses your reactions as a map, his quick learning apparently applicable here as well.

If you weren’t lost in the stimulation he was providing, you might feel embarrassed. Your hips buck every now and then, your mouth hanging open in pants and gasps, noises that Childe happily drinks up, tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth. You were thankful for how long the recording had run that night, assured that no one else was on this floor and could possibly hear your noises through all of the walls separating the two of you from the hallway.

Your head is stuffed with cotton clouds, your body moving on instinct, when the ginger stills his hand against your clit, pressing harshly on the bundle of nerves. “Ahf–what the fuck,” Your forehead rests against his, stuttering your hips as your incoming orgasm comes to a screeching halt. Your breaths intermingle as he smiles, smoothing his hand over the back of your head.

“Calm down, baby,” Childe coos in a mockingly sweet tone, laughing as you pinch his bicep in retaliation. For all the teasing he’s doing, you can tell he’s just as affected as you, his eyes lidded and his ears a bright red.

“You’re the worst,” The venom in your voice is gone. You know you don’t actually mean it. You wouldn’t be in this situation if you didn’t. The man hums, amused by your attitude.

“‘M sure I am,” He groans against your mouth, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your underwear. The cotton stretches around your thighs, but you’re too buzzed by his proximity to fully discard them, and he’s too eager to feel you. Childe is still kissing you senseless, your mouth hanging open as he drags his fingers through the slick of your folds, toying with your clit again before sinking two fingers inside you.

You reward him with a whine, your fists clenched tightly in the fabric of his hoodie. And, god, it’s addicting. The way he reacts to your body, shuddering and swallowing your quiet moans, like getting you off is his only life’s goal.

You understand why so many girls feel enraptured with him.

Your hips roll against his hand, pushing his fingers deeper. “Oh fuck,” Your blood is pumping even quicker, a loud drum in your ears as you chase the high. He’s stretching you so well, thrusting at a steady pace while you ride his hand like it’s the last time you’ll ever experience this kind of pleasure. It might as well be, the way you’re on fire for him. The way his lips latch onto the juncture of your neck and shoulders, whispering praises. His thumb works in tandem with his fingers to circle your clit messily, his other hand tight on your waist, guiding your rhythm or palming your chest over the thin shirt.

“Yes, fuckfuckfuck, yes–Childe,” You blabber mindlessly, high and floating. This burning, this tension, this tightrope you’ve both been walking converges all into this moment, and you’re suddenly forgetting anything prior to this. It’s just you and Childe as he fucks you with his fingers, leaving bites and hot kisses all over your body.

He groans against your chest, feeling the way you tighten around him, you’re body picking up pace as your hips bounce erratically on his fingers. You’re chasing your high, too heady to care how eager or desperate you look.

You don’t care.

You want this, you want him.

“Childe, Childe, Childe, need to cum–” You moan and hold tighter onto his shoulders, white knuckling. Your thighs are burning, and your stomach feels tight with your oncoming orgasm, a tightening precipice edging closer with every curl of his index and middle finger. He nods, wordlessly focusing his efforts on fucking you faster, and deeper, massaging your clit.

Your body is buzzing with the stimulation. You fail to form full words, babbling mindlessly between pants and whines and other ungodly noises. It falls from your lips freely, and Childe soaks it all in like it’s his favorite song.

Who fucking knew how irresistable you sounded like this?

He holds your hips even tighter the closer you get, helping you to move your hips. And it crashes over you quick and dirty, white-hot electric as the feeling courses through your veins. It’s everything and it’s better than your fantasies could ever give you, and in an instant it’s crashing through your entire system, washing over you and fizzling out almost as quickly as it came. Your body is buzzing, whirring as you whine pathetically, still riding his fingers as he rides you through the motions.

Childe kisses your neck as you come down, your head falling back. Your chest heaves, your fingers flexing in his hoodie once again. “Such a good girl, and you look so pretty,” He compliments in a sweet voice, dripping with honey as he helps you come back down.

It isn’t until your breathing has returned semi-normal again that he finally pulls his fingers out, his hand stroking your jaw. “You did so good for me, hm?” He strokes your chin with his thumb, sliding up to your bottom lips. Glossy and swollen from his kisses and tongue. They part easily for him. “Want to clean me up, princess?” The mocking in his tone returns but you can’t deny this time that it does something to you.

Your eyes are low, and you eagerly tilt your head, taking his fingers in your mouth. Warm and inviting as your tongue slides over his digits, your eyes locked in his.

“Good girl,” He coos. Pride swells in your chest.

“Need you now,” You say once he’s sufficiently clean. Childe tilts his head adoringly. His faux cute voice and his charming boyish-ness contrast the cocky attitude he has on display, but you can’t get enough. You need this like you need nicotine in your veins, a whole new drug to fuel your system when he taunts and riles you up. All with a sweet smile that has your knees weak.

“What do you mean, baby?” His voice is low, casual like he’s talking normally to you. You loop your arms around his neck and lean forward, pressing your chest to his. He tilts his head up, face-to-face as your noses brush. You can tell he’s just as addicted to you. His eyes glimmering bright, his cheeks and ears flushed a bright tomato red.

And the tent in his sweats helps clue you in, too.

“Need you inside me, baby,” You whisper husky, dropping a hand to drift over the toned planes of his chest, feeling him even through the hoodie. And damn, if he looked as good as he felt, you hoped you got another chance for this. Childe chuckles, charmed by your actions. “Get this off first,”

He squeezes your thigh affectionately. “Yes, ma’am,” His reply is semi sarcastic and you roll your eyes, playing into this dynamic. Both of you are amused, the corners of your mouths fighting off smiles while he pulls off his hoodie and shirt.

“Mmm,” You hum appreciatively as he exposes his torso, your eyes raking over his form. The curves and dips of his chest to his stomach, to the v-line dipping below his sweatpants. He’s built, and you can tell he’s strong just by the look of him. The muscles of his stomach flex with every breath. You let your hand trail down his skin, tapping on the freckles painting his skin, connecting the dots all the way down to his waistband.

“Take ‘em off, pretty,” He encourages, lifting his hips. His hands are still planted firmly on your thighs. No, this was a job for you to do.

You pull at the elastic of his sweatpants until they come undone, glancing between his face and his body. He was a god-given specimen. Much as you may not have wanted to initially admit it to yourself. Childe was attractive, and he earned that acknowledgment from you. You’re biting your lips, hungry as you pull his waistband down just enough to free his hard-on.

“Fuck,” A quiet groan escapes your parted lips, your hand circling around his cock. He grips your thighs tighter just slightly. Whimpering, his hips nearly buck up as you experimentally twist your wrist just slightly. “Sensitive,” You comment, taking your own turn to tease him.

“Fuck–always am with you,” He’s melting against the chair as he groans that, falling apart on your featherlight touches, stroking his tip down to the base. Painfully slow, torturous even. You hum, tightening your hold around him just slightly, a wicked smile on your face when he whines and bucks his hips. “Feel-feels good, baby,” He manages to get out.

“Yeah?” You’re purring as you continue your motions, but you don’t go faster.

Instead, you lift yourself up just slightly, balancing on his shoulder with your free hand. You line up his cock with your eager hole, already so wet and ready for him. You roll your hips against his tip. You swear you see his brain short circuit, a weird sound catching in his throat, somewhere between a grunt and a gasp.

“W-wait,” He blinks his eyes open slightly, his hands sliding up to your waist. “Condom,” He motions his head in the direction of his bag. You blink once or twice as you realise what he’s saying.

“R-right,” You lean forward to kiss him before you climb off, managing to get over to his bag without stumbling. You couldn’t put this off, but you were going to be responsible at the very least, goddammit.

Returning with the condom, you take your place on his lap. He reaches for the condom package but you hold it above your head. “Hands off, pretty boy,”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty,” Childe bats his lashes, falling back in his seat. You shake your head, swallowing while his hands smooth over your hips and waist, reassuring and grounding touches. You rip open the package and roll it over his hard dick, rolling your wrist to get him worked up again. He smiles into the next groan he lets out, bliss rocking through his body.

Then you lower onto his cock, spreading your thighs as much as the chair will allow as you take him into your eager cunt. Your walls flutter around the width of him. Even with his fingers stretching you and your own experiences, Childe is still big. He fills you up, sending shivers across your body as you sink inch-by-inch.

A chest-deep moan escapes the man as your pussy clenches around him, sucking him in. “Holy shit,” He grunts, one of his hands gripping the arm of his chair. It takes everything in him not to move his hips, desperately wanting to bury himself in your warmth. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He should’ve done this sooner. You should’ve done this sooner. You’re both gone as you finally sink down, breathless again as you bottom out on his length. You’ve never felt this full. You feel like you’re on cloud nine and you haven’t even moved. Childe doesn’t try to rush you as you adjust to him, panting with your head on his shoulder and squeezing his biceps.

“Good?” He questions softly, and you nod against his neck.

“Good,” You mumble, “So fucking good,” He hums in response, massaging your waist.

When you finally move, he whimpers again, holding onto you like a lifeline as you swirl your hips, sinking down. Lift, fall, lift, fall. You set a rhythm slowly, picking up pace as you feel the way he pushes into you again and again, hitting that deep spongy spot inside you, filling up your wet cunt, stretching you so very deliciously.

This is better than cocaine (not that you’ve ever done that).

“Yes, baby, just like that,” Childe encourages. “Fuck, fuck–fuck,” He curses over and over while you ride him, going faster now, squeezing him tight. Your pussy has a vice grip on his cock, dragging him in. He desperately lifts his hips to meet every drop of yours, thrusting up into you and making you bounce. “Fuck, you’re so fucking good–” Childe smooths his hands over your spine, kneading the fat of your ass, squeezing your thighs.

He can’t keep his hands off you, and he can’t keep his mouth from running, his thoughts unfiltered and filthy as you ride his cock like a carousel ride. He’s a goner, his head swimming with clouds, lust blinding every sense and moral he might’ve had. All he knows, all he cares about, is fucking you stupid.

“Ahf, please– Childe,fuckfuck–fuck!” You squeal and roll your hips, moaning and panting against his clammy skin, electrified by his actions. You can feel another orgasm building inside you, that cord pulling into a knot with every thrust of his cock against that sweet spot. “Please, need to cum, baby, need to come on your cock, pleaseplease,” You feed into his own sinful encouragements, repeating it like a mantra as you desperately buck your hips, whining when he thrusts up into you, fucking you extra full.

The both of you pant and moan, closer and closer to that precipice of euphoria as your orgasms build. Childe still manages to speak but you fall to notice, getting louder and more incoherent between his broken whines and cries of ‘how good you take me’ and ‘such a pretty little face’. You can tell he’s getting close now as he slumps back in his seat, his hands a bruising iron-grip on your ass as he holds you in place, mustering all of his remaining strength to fuck you again and again and again.

He gives you little warning of his orgasm, and yours follows just seconds after as you roll and circle your hips, your toes curling and your thighs clenching around his hips. A load moan falls from your lips and your body stutters as your second orgasm watces over you, your pussy clenching tight on his hard cock.

Childe’s gone in a second, cumming so fast and hard, he sees stars in his vision, his body moving on instinct as he slows down. His jaw goes slack and he pants out over his orgasm, the current setting his nerves on fire coming in waves before it calms down. You ride out your highs together, panting and sweaty and hot, but neither of you moves for a long time.

***

You collapse against his chest, blinking back unshed tears from your screwed shut eyes, bliss stuffing your head full of cotton still. Childe stares up at the ceiling for a moment, allowing you both the moment to recollect yourselves. When he’s sure his heart isn’t going to burst out of his chest and run down the hallway screaming bloody murder, his arms circle around you. He brushes some hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear, causing you to look up at him, your chin on his chest.

“You good?” He asks, quirking his brow curiously. You can only smile, pleased, a quiet hum in your throat. But he catches it and the way it rattles in your chest, rumbling in his as well like an echo. He chuckles and rubs your back soothingly, his hand underneath your shirt but not uncomfortably. He seems satisfied with what transpired.

Truthfully, you are too.

“You know…” He leans his cheek on his shoulder. “It’s been a while since I’ve been with a girl like that,” He admits.

“Ah, you’re not going to fall in love with me because of this, are you?” You tease, squeezing his bicep as if to let him know you’re just playing a joke. He laughs and tickles the space just beneath your shoulder blades, conjuring a shiver that has your body tingling. He looks over your face, taking you in and all of your features, before he looks at the wall.

“If you… feel that way again, I don’t mind helping out..” He tells you after a few more seconds, staring at the desk of equipment. He doesn’t meet your eyes until you sit up a little bit, looking at him curiously. “I’m serious,” He adds. “Clearly you enjoy it, and I do too,” He glances over the both of you, his eyes noticeably staring at the curve of you, the plush of your thighs, the fat of your stomach, the curve of your chest and your waist. And, he stares at where you two are still connected.

Your face feels warm and you look away. “Point,” Is all you respond…

After that, you both calm down and shuffle into getting dressed. You don’t respond outwardly to his promise, but it sticks in the back of your mind as you shimmy back into your shorts, turning your back on him politely as he fixes his sweats and pulls his hoodie back on. The air is shifted between you two, no longer thick with tension and not uncomfortable but… different.

You finish cleaning up, spraying a couple spritz of your perfume to hide your deeds and activities before you both lock up and head to your cars. Much like the night at the bar, this one doesn’t leave your mind, and you can’t help but wonder if you did the right thing…

———

A/Ns: sooo... y/n and childe huh? anyway y'all like the color blue? lmaoooo this chapter took a bit to write cuz i was lowk struggling but anyway i hope its still enjoyable !! likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated, and don't forget i love you <33

TAGLIST: @popiizpops @scaradooche @yourfavoritefreakyhan @neversore @monocerosei @dontmindtheevie @kittywagun @yumidepain

[herbgerblin]

ipre theater thots

loosely based off of this poll. sorry, this got away from me. i was a theater kid for years (i still am, i literally made a bunch of friends larp as wizards two weeks ago)

Davenport: Producer and Stage Manager. Personally more experienced in opera than musicals, but answers the call when the need for a manager arises. Keeps everyone focused and on schedule. Has final word on what choices the art department gets to make. Sometimes does solo performances on his own time.

Merle: Choreographer and Director. Leads the ensemble into meditation every rehearsal before warming up. Talks with each member of the cast one-on-one. Sometimes leaves the script open to interpretation. His artistic vision sounds bonkers in concept, but illuminating in execution. Why are there so many plants? Don't worry about it.

Magnus: Lead Actor and Set Builder. He brings the energy every single night. He doesn't need to be micc'ed up because his natural voice projects well enough. It takes a bit of time for him to memorize the script, but he devotes his heart and soul to it. He claps loudly for the ensemble when he's in the wings. He cries at the emotional numbers. Built all the sets by hand.

Lucretia: Co-stage Manager and Supporting Actor (not for lack of chops, only because she spreads herself very thin.) Knows the script like a second language. Mainly reserves her Director Voice for backstage when things get chaotic. Enjoys performing the musical numbers because no one knows she can belt, until she does. Standing ovation girlie, but bashful about it.

Lup: Co-lead Lead Actor and Costumer. Only willing to do the role if Davenport lets her include cold sparks and fog machines in the set budget (he finds a way.) No one knows when she took measurements for the costumes, but they're ready by dress rehearsal and they fit perfectly. Helps the other actors figure out their groove. Great at engaging the audience.

Angus (special edition): Child lead and stagehand. The sweetest little singing voice you ever did hear. Everyone is going to rue the day his voice starts cracking. A heartbreaker of a performer and a speedy backstage assistant.

Taako: A MYSTERY. He's wearing a fancy scarf and roaming all over the place. He's talking about the Art of the Theatre. He's listed on the billing of lead actors and NO ONE knows what his role is. He remembers all the little things that everyone forgets: clothes pins, a hot glue gun, and electrolytes. He's got a walkie-talkie. Only the managers and tech are supposed to have walkie-talkies. Hello, this is Taako speaking, over.

Barry: Usually Tech. He's got a beautifully choreographed queue of lighting designs and stage effects. He's got an immaculately labeled pad controller and a ready-to-go Excel spreadsheet. But on opening night, Lucretia informs him he's in the orchestra pit.

Barry: ...But I'm lighting tonight.

Lucretia (via walkie-talkie): And our percussionist twisted his ankle tripping over a stage light. You're in the orchestra now, compadre.

Barry: (with increasing emphasis, decreasing conviction) But. I'm. Light. Tech.

Taako: E N T E R T H E P I T B A R O L D

Davenport: Taako, get off this line.

During intermission, Magnus asks him to help lift the ensemble dancers onto the set scaffolding, and hold it steady. Barry agrees, thinking he's in the clear after that. But the second the music number ends, Merle tells him that one of the support roles had to leave, so now he's the understudy.

Barry (longsuffering): I am just. the light guy.

Merle (gesturing to Taako in the balcony, having a ballgame playing with the lightboard): well, in two minutes you're the showstopper guy, so you need to go out there and stop the show

Lup (emerging from nowhere, slapping a red, hooded robe on Barold's shoulders): Knock 'em dead!

Barry: D:

[hangesdarling]

hiii this is an idea for the hange love note thing, but i'm not good at writing letters or notes... but i'll try !

Hange, I'm sorry for always rejecting your advances and ignoring your gazes. I'm worried about you. Please recover soon.

(i was trying to convey something like where hange is flirty and gets subtly rejected, but after hange loses their eye the reader feels really bad and realizes how much they love and care for hange <3)

send hange a short love note!

when: before your scout training

You always knew them as the kid who tried to scrape the walls with a shovel. You lived in another village but always saw them whenever you had to go outside to get your produce from the market. You were slightly intrigued as to why a child your age wanted to dig on the walls but your curiosity was cut short when you saw Military Police officers approaching. Their presence alone reminded you of the scary tales parents tell children like you at night to instill good behavior. You ran away from the scene, hugging the goods in your arms as you rushed back home.

But fate seemed to have played a bridging chord as you met this person again before your scout training, you didn't know their name but you couldn't mistake their glasses or the fiery, determined eyes behind them.

You were in a queue, signing up for the Survey Corps when you saw their bandaged arm.  It wasn't wrapped securely and dirt accumulated on the creased rim. Retrieving memories from your childhood, it wasn't a far-fetched idea for this person to get into scrapes and such. You didn't know if the memory served you right but you felt your hand reaching for a fresh roll of bandage neatly tucked in your bag and offering it to them. They were surprised by such a thoughtful act but only nodded in gratitude when you asked them if you could replace the bandage on their arm. You could feel their eyes on you the entire time. Their eyes spoke of thankfulness and fascination, not failing to express it in words. You smiled before taking your leave as the queue signaled your turn, but not before they could utter their name: Hange.

After being enlisted in the Survey Corps, you were welcomed by another set of friends and acquaintances. Your group was always separated from Hange but they always managed to come and say hi to you or share their food as if in gratitude for the first day when you showed them kindness. At one point, you told them that they didn't have to do so much to thank you but they insisted on helping you out whenever you need.

You noticed Hange's subtle gazes on you or their flirty attitude at the limited time they were near you. But their advances always end up overlooked as you always see them as a good friend and nothing else.

At the return to Shiganshina, dread stirred on your insides, as you looked at your comrades, a sinister thought crept up your mind that maybe after this mission, you wouldn't see each other again.

The moment you charged outside, you wished to at least see Hange that morning before everything else changed your lives.

BUt later that day, hearing about Hange's squad getting caught up in the explosion shook something inside you. You felt your flesh liquefying, getting sucked dry out of your skin. Your dread and regret made a sinister pair upon tormenting your insides that your hands trembled just by holding your blades. However, seeing Hange emerge alive with a bandaged eye lifted the veil of dread over your heart, replaced by concern at the sight of their injury.

You wanted to jump in their arms, telling them how grateful you were to see them again, maybe offer to treat their bandaged eye the way you bandaged their arm the first day you met, but you were both shaken by the battle that took those you love and cared for.

Hange only acknowledged you with a gentle squeeze on the shoulder before walking past as the remaining soldiers returned to the headquarters.

That night, Hange sat by the window, staring ahead at the vast midnight blue darkness along a lone white rose placed in a small jar. Too many thoughts and too many dead comrades for one small flower.

Hange recognized your entrance as you knocked on their door, acknowledging you with a single eye as you sat by the window next to them.

Nothing was exchanged but soft words masking the grief and affection lying underneath. Hange would look at you in that same subtle gaze they used to have all those years ago but this time, they felt you returning that same tender gaze.

You stood up from your seat and went into their arms, surprising Hange as they saw you initiate such an affectionate act. But no sooner, their arms gave up, no longer holding so much strength after that battle. They sank into your embrace, their wounded heart nestling to your warmth to suffice for the cold night.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Can you make like an Indian female reader x Tony stark and pepper Potts, well it's your choice about pepper but yeah. Can you possibly make it angst, fluffy and smut in one shot pls?? It can be like they met her at some event in India etc but I want her to belong to India only🫠🥺

The Bridesmaid

A/N: Have I been waiting for a request like this or what 🥹 Dear @chaoticnerdsublime I know there’s no smut but I hope you enjoy this :)

Pairing: Tony Stark x Indian! Reader

Warnings: 18+ fluff, some angst?

Word count: 2665? Ish.

Tony Stark Masterlist

.

An urgent knock on the toilet door made Tony startle, frowning as it turned insistent and quite irritating.

“Aap zara jaldi karenge, please?” a female voice came through with words he couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

“Sorry?” he called back, finishing his business quickly and cleaning up.

“Would you mind hurrying up? It’s kind of an emergency.” she repeated this time in a language he understood, the voice seemed to get him curious to know about the person attached to it. It was one of those voices that got him wondering.

“I don’t mean to be rude but the last time I checked, this was the men’s room, ma’am.” he called out, a small smile on his face as he wiped his hands, hearing a click of a tongue outside the door.

“I appreciate you pointing out the obvious but, like I said, it’s an emergency and there’s a long queue for the ladies room. Now, are you planning on settling in there or–”

The door swung open, revealing the most gorgeous set of eyes and the most intriguing face Tony Stark had seen in his life. She rolled her eyes, muttering a ‘finally’ under her breath before brushing past him and locking the door behind her, leaving behind a lingering scent of roses and the same intrigue he’d had when he first heard her voice. He walked out of there, not before glancing behind once more with a small frown on his face.

The drive over to the venue was long and tiring, the balmy weather turned cooler as evening approached, rendering the skies in hues of fiery orange and purple. He had been invited to attend a wedding of a former MIT colleague in India, well not just the wedding but a week-long event of festivities. Something that was a common occurrence here, he was told.

The venue was stunning. A palace, quite literally, that had been turned into a boutique hotel, decorated to the nines for the wedding. The colors, the smells, the people, all of it was a bit overwhelming at first for him, but he grew to enjoy it.

As Tony entered the gardens where an event known as a ‘sangeet’ was, he was handed a welcome drink, which turned out to be a spiked sherbet. Mingling with other guests, he made his way to meet his friend, the groom. As he was chatting away, among the collective giggles that sounded through, Tony picked up a familiar voice, one he had heard just a few hours ago.

Sure enough, it was the same girl he had bumped into, or rather it was her who stumbled in the men’s room and had lingered on his mind. She was stunning, to say the least, wearing one of the most beautiful outfits, decked in jewelry and make-up that highlighted her best features.

Tony felt an unstoppable urge to go up to her, he simply couldn’t help himself. Clearing his throat he made his presence known, a few of the women surrounding her gave him judgy looks, stifling giggles for reasons unknown.

“Oh! It’s you!” You exclaimed, instantly recognizing the man before you, giving him a genuine smile, you held out your hand which he accepted.

“Y/N Y/L/N, I stormed in your stall earlier today, I’m sorry.” You placed a lock of hair behind your ear, staring down at your clasped hands, taking notice of how warm his hand felt against yours, it was a perfect fit.

“I remember you. Tony Stark, it’s a pleasure.” He shook your hand but didn’t let go, letting his sunglass-clad gaze roam over you some more. Reluctantly you let his hand go, still feeling his touch on your skin long after you had parted.

“Wait—you’re Anthony Stark?”

“The one and only.”

“Ah. I’ve heard a lot about you, you’ve got quite the reputation.” You teased, stopping one of the serves to get yourself a drink.

“One that precedes me. Please don’t believe everything you hear.” He shook his head, for once hoping he hadn’t been such an infamous personality and not always for the right reasons. Afterall he did want to make a good first impression.

“Well, stick around to prove it wrong, then maybe I won’t.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, smirking in response as he downed the rest of the drink he held. There was something about you, definitely.

“Are you a friend of the groom too?”

“Nope. The bride, she’s my best friend. We practically grew up together.”

Speaking of whom, you heard her call out your name urgently, effectively cutting your conversation with the billionaire, genius short. Tony wanted to know more, everything, but it would have to wait; and he would have to think of ways to spend more time with you since his time in India was limited.

“I’ll find you later, Anthony. Don’t be a stranger, okay?” you smiled, giving his arm a friendly squeeze before excusing yourself. That little gesture warmed his heart, given he was surrounded by strangers in a country that was miles from home, your friendly face and kind eyes made him feel at ease.

.

Light music played on the speakers as the usual murmur of people chattering floated through the halls of the palace. The mehndi or henna tattoo on your hands was almost done, the elegant, intricate designs and patterns and the peculiar, earthy smell always made you happy. It was still a long way from drying but the breeze kept blowing your hair into your face, driving you to a point of irritation.

“Need help?”

You heard a familiar voice before the man poked his head from behind a pillar, looking far too amused. Sleeves rolled up and yet another pair of expensive tinted glasses, the man looked dapper, a bit more relaxed but still quite out of place.

“I’m starting to think you’ve been spying on me, Mr. Stark.” you feigned shock, shaking your head in lame attempts to get your hair to behave, but it wouldn’t budge.

“I mean, this little struggle is way too entertaining to miss. May I?”

He chuckled at your adorable pouty face before your unruly hair was tucked behind your ear, his fingers caressing your face ever so gently and leaving a trail of tingly feelings behind. The gesture made several hopeless butterflies flutter in your belly.

“How’d you sleep?” You cleared your throat, rolling your eyes at the people who stopped in their tracks to stare at the man who didn’t have eyes for anyone else but you.

“I don’t sleep much. Are you from here?” Tony’s nose twitched before he sneezed, narrowing his eyes at the drying henna on your hands.

“Oh no, home is miles away. But I have been here before, as a child. It is one of my favorite cities.”

You smiled as he asked more questions about you and your life, answering all the questions you had with utmost honesty as well. You realized how easy it was to talk to the man, though he seemed to have an aura about him, it was somehow meant for others, not you.

It was only later as he picked up his jacket that you noticed he was in a suit again.

“Are all of the clothes you’ve brought so…Western?”

“What do you mean?” Your question made him frown and look down at his choice of outfit.

“I mean, you’re at an Indian wedding. A nice sherwani would’ve been more appropriate, don’t you think?”

“A sher-what?”

You giggled, explaining what it was.

“My stylist picked these out for me, I’m sorry I had no idea. I’m coming off as ignorant, aren’t I?”

He scratched the back of his neck, nervously.

“Maybe out of place, not ignorant. But we can fix that. There’s some great stores around here, if you want I could take you shopping.” You suggested, feeling bad that you made him self-conscious all of a sudden.

“I would love it! I—I mean I would appreciate it. Thank you, Y/N.”

“Just give me like half an hour?”

You raised your hands up to show the mehndi still needed time to dry. Agreeing to meet him by the cars they had arranged to let people drive around, you parted ways. This day was suddenly looking up for more than one reason now.

.

“Try one in the white, I think you’ll carry it off well.” you nodded at the gorgeous sherwani with intricate design, holding it up against Tony’s chest and urging him to put it on.

It had been a fun day walking around the streets, strolling into stores to buy some traditional clothes for Tony Stark. With people stopping him to take pictures and autographs, it was quite endearing to watch him engage with them, patiently pose for pictures and entertain them with little quips and tales. You hadn’t missed the sneaky looks and gazes as you conversed with people at the stores or drove him around the city.

“What do we think?” you called out, pacing outside the trial room as you waited for the man.

“I think I might have to fire my stylist.”

You giggled, clapping your hands in delight as the man stepped out looking unbelievably dapper, and rather hot if you’d allowed your thoughts to run wild. You turned your attention to the selection of dupattas they had, quickly scanning through them until you found a piece you were looking for.

“It was missing this. There. Now you’re done.” you draped a red dupatta you’d found with small white bandhani details all over it. It truly made the outfit come together and what was Iron Man without a bit of that signature red anyway?

“I needed you, Y/N. Where have you been all my life?”

You met his gaze in the mirror, cheeks warming as he sent you a wink. Paying for the clothes, you put the stuff back in your car, feeling a little sad that your time with him was almost over. Tomorrow the two of you would go separate ways after the wedding. Almost sensing the same, Tony let out a sigh as he took a seat in the passenger seat, leaning his back and turning to you, placing his hand on top of yours with a smile.

“I’ve had the best day, Y/N. we should probably head back huh?” trying to think of ways to extend this, he wasn’t prepared to let you go so soon. As if on cue, your phone started ringing, it was one of the relatives at the wedding, probably calling you back. You stared at the screen for a moment before switching it off and throwing it in your purse.

“I’m not ready for the day to end just yet.” you stated, surprised at your own statement as you heart beat against your ribcage, hoping to God he felt the same way. Tony, impressed beyond belief, gave you his winning grin.

“Me neither. Ice-cream? My treat.” he frowned as you shook your head, pulling the car out of parking and heading to one of your favorite spots in the city.

“I’ve got a better idea. Kulfi. With a view.”

It was an ancient fort in ruins now, though it still offered stunning panoramic views of the city and the lakes surrounding it. Your timing couldn’t be more perfect as the sun was on the cusp of setting, the skies were a dramatic pink and orange as you grabbed a couple of kulfis. Handing one to Tony you grabbed his hand and hurried towards your favorite spot, missing Tony’s chuckle at your excitement.

“Aren’t you needed back at the wedding, Miss Y/L/N?”

You hummed, perching yourself on the stone ledge as Tony did the same, angling his body towards you.

“If we go back now we would miss this gorgeous sunset, wouldn’t we? They’ll survive.” you smiled, your eyes shining in the golden sunlight that had bathed the surroundings.

Soon enough you were left mesmerized as the sun set behind the horizon, it brought back memories from your childhood when you had first visited the place, eating the same kulfi you were now, watching the city change colors along with the skies with the same child-like wonder.

“What do you think?” you murmured, eyes on the glistening water of the lake.

“Stunning.”

Your cheeks turned warm once again because from your peripheral vision you could tell his eyes weren’t focused on the view, they were on you.

You spoke about the randomest of things as evening drew on, not bothering to check your phone or the sky for a fact that it had turned gray with clouds that promised a light shower or two.

Tony made you laugh, he was a good listener and really paid attention and in a way made you wonder why you hadn’t met before.

“When do you go back to Malibu?” Not even attempting to mask the tinge of sadness as you spoke, picking on the invisible lint of your dress.

“Tomorrow. Midnight. Listen, Y/N—”

“We should head back.”

Cutting him mid-sentence, you stood up and began walking back; however, the weather had other plans. Soon fat droplets of water splattered across the limestones, drenching you and Tony within seconds.

It was a good fifteen minute walk back to the car but the rains showed no sign of stopping. Tony called out your name but you didn’t stop, not wanting him to see how heartbroken you were. It wasn’t everyday you felt this way. Not over someone you had met just forty eight hours ago. Then again, it wasn’t everyday that Tony Stark stumbled into your life.

You felt him grab your hand and pull you back, making a run for a dilapidated section of the fort that had a part of roofing intact.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N, look at me.”

Suddenly, it wasn’t the rain or the wind that sent shivers down your spine. It was the man who stood before you, approaching you slowly until he had you caged with his arms on either side. His eyes locked into yours in a way that had your heart threaten to beat out of your chest.

“Tony, don’t…” you trailed off, doing nothing to actually push the man away. Truth be told, you didn’t want to.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re leaving.”

His face was now mere inches from yours, gaze dropping down to stare at your lips.

“I could stay. Or you could come with me.”

As much as you wanted to believe, you knew you came from different worlds and the possibility of it working out seemed slim.

“Tell me you don’t want me as much as I want you and I’ll step away.”

You felt his hand cupping your face, forcing you to look up into his brown doe eyes. That seemed to melt away all your defenses and any protests that the rational part of your brain would throw at you. Shutting your eyes, you closed the distance and kissed him. Tony responded immediately, pulling you against his chest as his soft lips molded against yours perfectly, savoring you.

Something warm and fuzzy bloomed in your chest as you kissed, your drenched state quickly forgotten as you lost yourself in the taste of him. You had silly grins on your faces when you finally parted, foreheads touching and breaths shallow.

“You’re something else, Y/N.” he whispered, stealing a few chaste kisses while your arms found their way behind his neck.

“You’re one to talk, Anthony.”

“So…would you come with me?”

“I’ll think about it. Would you stay first?” You murmured with hints of a playful smile on your face.

“I’ll think about it.”

This was so much fun to write especially since it hit close to home. If you’ve got questions about some of the things/words here, just ask! My desi readers, if y’all picked up the Yeh Jawani Hai Deewani reference, hit me up!!

[iwaasfairy]

OPENING FAST PASSES FOR DRABBLES ♡ MINORS DNI

for these two summer months I’m working too much to allow me to open writing commissions, but I’ve lately been getting really back into drabbles and thirsts, and I was mulling this idea for a long time!! and I just think now is a great time for me to open these up because I’m having so many scattered fandom thoughts

*ੈ WHAT IS IT?

A Fast Pass for requests is in the name! With this I'll make your ask/request/thirst the first in my writing queue.

Fast Passes are for drabbles/thirsts 600-1050 words long only, and always smutty unless specifically asked not to be.

*ੈ WHY?

I want to give people who would like to support a little to my work a cheaper alternative, and I can’t commit to long fic commissions right now.

*ੈ HOW DOES IT WORK?

For a Fast Pass ask, please send your ask (on anon or not) with a [»»] included in your message. If you are on anon, you must sign your message with an emoji or pseud.

Please include this same pseud in your ko-fi message, so l can easily find your donation!

You can send these as just your normal thirsts to me, like you’ve been doing. With fast passes you’re now on a priority schedule though!

example: [»»] I’d love to see more of your satoru-nii!! If he finds his little sister being intimidated by her overly clingy ex-boyfriend, and decides to help her out a little maybe? He can’t help it if he’s a protective big brother willing to do anything for her! Fucking up her ex is easy work. Convincing her to sleep in his bed just in case is a little harder, but he’s never shied away from a challenge —🫡 anon

*ੈ PRICE! & SPOTS

To try this out, I will be taking only 3 Fast Pass slots for now! Because it’s a new thing I’m trying, please send your ask first, then once I have confirmed to have gotten it, your payment on ko-fi. 0/3 slots taken

The set price is == 9€ (10usd) == for 600-1050 words. Payment through ko-if like any of my comms! I won’t offer any rewrites or refund on fast passes.

L. Status: [OPEN]

*ੈ DIFFERENCE WITH COMMISSIONS?

Commissions are fully customisable fics to your liking. Fast Passes are just skip-the-line asks or thirsts! | will interpret these asks like any other thirsts, in my own way, but will take them before others I do.

thank you so much to people who think of supporting, even with an encouraging ask or a nice reblog! Ily all very dearly

ੈ CHARACTER LIST

if you’re not sure if I write a character there is a list of ones I write under characters

.` §𝖍𝖊'𝖘 𝖆 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗, 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖆 𝖋1𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖗 ♱’¡!

[wangxianficfinder]

Hey lovely people! I sent an ask for a lost fic a few days ago and it's not part of the recent fic finder post. I just wanted to ask if 1. you didn't receive it or 2. I did anything wrong (offensive? Too explicit?) or maybe some secret third thing?

I was looking for a fic, WangXian, set in CR (possibly study arc) where Lan Zhan gets cursed (?) into having a vagina, and Wei Ying selflessly helps him out by trying to give him an orgasm. He succeeds in the end and there is some insecurity if WY still wants him with his original parts reinstated, iirc.

Thank you ☺️

Hello! We did receive your ask 😊 The reason it's not in the most recent FF post is because we have a queue with a wait time of 2-3 weeks for all requests 😊

~Mod L

[fallstaticexit]

Postponing my COTF update I had planned for Monday because I decided last minute to change one tiny, little detail 🙂‍↕️☝🏾 ALSO I have this feverish itch to set up this flashback scene with Simeon and Grace that if I don’t execute like right away, I won’t be able to think about anything else lol because if you recall, Simeon was incredibly tempted to have an affair with Grace moments before the start of the war and I really need to unpack that and how that affects Grace today as well as her survivors guilt. Because even though she was healing those around her, did she ever truly heal herself?

Speaking of flashback scenes, those are my favorite to do and I got plenty in the chamber lol I love alluding to something, which is 99% of my storytelling lol, and then being able to show and expand on it via flashback. I have several big scenes like that in the queue of my brain I just can’t wait to see in action and almost every main character has at least 2 or so big scenes. Here’s some sneak peaks of what to anticipate straight from my google doc (under cut for spoilers);

Adelina’s rise to power

Adelina’s fall from grace + death

Nora’s curse -and redemption

The birth of Edin

The battle of the Occult war

Adie’s first curse

L. Faba’s turning (from Spellcaster to Vampire)

The creation of Lucius Glass V4

Teenaged Tomax and his master, the former Sage of Alchemy

The tale of two sisters (Nora and Adelina’s relationship dynamic as youths)

The Cruel Story of Oyema; the first Dark Witch (will have triggers warnings)