#Little Chaser: Part 1

[roosterforme]

Mr. Right Now Part 1 | Hangman x Reader

Summary: When Jake picks your ID up from the floor at the Hard Deck, he has no expectations that he's about to be in for a wild ride. But when he learns that you're looking for Rooster and why you're at the bar in the first place, he starts to feel more possessive than he should. You're young and stubborn and about to get yourself into trouble. Maybe he would prefer it if you got into it with him instead.

Warnings: adult language, mentions of sex and virginity, 18+

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist

It was a typical Friday night with the typical Hard Deck crowd, and to be honest, it was a bit exhausting. Jake knew if he picked up a random girl to take home, it would all feel pretty pointless the next morning. He should probably just head home now before he ruined some desperate girl's night by kicking her out of his bed in about four hours.

"Jesus, it's not even ten o'clock yet," he muttered to himself as he checked his watch. He'd only had one whiskey sour, but he was ready to leave. The two girls in matching pink dresses had been eyeing him up all night, and they both looked like the type who would cry if he suggested getting them an Uber after hooking up, no matter how clear he made it that he only ever kept things very casual.

He hated when girls got it twisted. Jake loved women. He loved their bodies. He loved making promises to them and then delivering. He loved the little noises they made when he fucked them. But that was all he had time for. He wasn't going to meet anyone that made him think it was worth pursuing more when he spent all of his time at work, at the gym, or at a bar full of tag chasers. 

He signaled for Penny to close out his tab, and even she looked surprised. "You're heading out?" she asked, glancing at his friends who were still playing pool with the girls in pink. 

"Yeah," he said with a sigh as he signed his name on the receipt and collected his credit card. "Thinking about an early night and a long run on the beach first thing in the morning."

"Right," she said, giving him a little smile. "Be safe."

He winked at her and turned just in time to see a young woman drop something as she tried to squeeze through the crowd. "Hey!" he called out as he picked up her driver's license and held it up in his hand. "Leather mini skirt!"

You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes questioning as you turned away from the pool table to face him. He watched you look around to make sure nobody else was wearing a black leather skirt before you faced him all the way. 

"Yes?" you asked a little cautiously, and Jake took in the sight before him. You looked pretty young and a little out of place here. You had paired your little skirt with a black tank top and some Converse sneakers, and even though you didn't look like anyone else, you certainly didn't look bad.

Then he remembered he was holding your license, and he glanced down at his hand only to realize it was literally the worst fake ID he had ever seen. Your name was pretty, if that part was even real. The photo actually was you, but it looked like it had been taken in bad lighting, and according to your date of birth, you were thirty just like he was. One more look at your face told him that was a blatant lie.

"This yours?" he asked, holding it up between his thumb and index finger.

You rushed forward, clearly embarrassed, and you tried to take it from him with a muttered, "Thank you."

But he pulled it out of your reach, and your hand grazed his chest instead. "Nice fake, kiddo. Don't get drunk, okay?"

You shot him a look of vexation, clearly having no idea who he was or that he was one of the best fighter pilots in the country. "I'm not here to get drunk, okay?" When you reached for the plastic card again, Jake held it a little higher just to see what you'd do. "Seriously?"

He glanced up and looked at the first and last name once again before saying them out loud. "Then why are you here? And with the world's worst fake ID to boot."

You eyed the card, still out of reach, and placed your hands on your hips. "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm actually looking for someone named Rooster, if you happen to know who he is?"

Jake lowered his hand slowly, and you snatched your card back and tucked it inside your little purse. "What do you want with ol' Rooster?" he asked, eyeing you a little closer while you were glancing down. You were cute if not a little too innocent looking for him, but your words once again had him engaged.

"That's classified, sailor. Now do you know who he is or not?"

Jake laughed. "Yeah. I know who he is. But I'm not a sailor. I'm an aviator. Got more air to air kills than anyone else on active duty."

You gave him a bland look. "That must be very nice for you, aviator. But I'm on a bit of a mission here, so if you don't mind..." As you turned back toward the pool table, Jake followed behind you. 

"He's the big one with the mustache and hideous shirt."

You stopped, and he bumped into you, steadying himself with his hands briefly on your shoulders. "Oh," you replied. "Wow. I mean, it's not going to be a problem for me, that's for sure. I just hope he's into it."

Still confused, Jake said, "I wouldn't bother him in the middle of a game of pool unless you come bearing the gift of a beer or a nice set of tits."

You spun around and looked him right in the eye. "What exactly is wrong with my tits?"

"Nothin'," he replied, trying not to look at them in your snug top. "Just trying to give you the lay of the land is all." 

When you glanced over your shoulder, he let his eyes dip down below your neck. Certainly nothing wrong there. "Is that his girlfriend?" you asked, turning back to Jake and jerking your thumb in the direction of Phoenix where she stood near Rooster.

"No," he laughed. "But I'd also avoid interrupting her without a beer or your tits ready to go."

"Well, thanks. You've been very informative. One more question," you said, just inches away from Jake in the crowd. "What kind of beer does this Rooster guy like?"

He studied your face closely. He considered himself something of an expert when it came to women, and things weren't completely adding up for him right now. Your words and posture seemed bold and sure, but your eyes were giving you away. There was a nervousness behind them that made him anxious to get answers from you.

"I'll tell you if you finally answer my question."

"What was your question?"

"Why are you here? And what do you want from Rooster?"

"That's two questions," you said with a smirk, leaning a little closer, and Jake just wanted to wrap his arm around you and yank you all the way in. 

"You're a real smartass, kid. And I like that in a person. But just humor me with an answer, and I'll buy you the beer myself."

Your lips parted as your gaze drifted down to Jake's chest. Every time you blinked, your eyelashes brushed your cheeks, and it was taking all of his willpower to keep his hands off you. With a deep breath, you almost met his eyes as you said, "I'm here to get laid."

Jake cocked his head to one side until you did meet his gaze. Your eyes still looked unsure. "Explain."

You just shrugged. "What is there to explain exactly? I'm looking to have sex."

He closed one eye and squinted. He could have sworn he only had one drink, but nothing was making sense right now. "With Rooster?"

"Yes. I'm going to try to get him to take me home."

Jake burst into laughter, and you took a small step away from him. "You're not going to have to try very hard, I can tell you that much for sure." You were actually cute as hell; any guy you had your sights set on would be ready to leave at the mere mention of such activities. 

"That's what I'm hoping for," you muttered before pressing your lips together.

"Wait, wait," Jake asked with his hands held up in front of his chest in surrender. "Why Rooster?"

You looked a little embarrassed now as you switched your bag from one hand to the other. "My friend told me he was good in bed," you muttered.

"I am so confused," Jake replied, pushing his fingers through his hair. By this point, you were starting to look annoyed, and he didn't want to push, but he wanted to know. If you were going to parade around the Hard Deck in a mini skirt with a fake ID, he needed to know that you were okay. "You're young and attractive. Why did you come here of all places to acquire a hot fuck?" And that's when he got the answer that surprised him as you finally snapped. 

"Because, if you must know, I'm a disgrace of a twenty-year-old virgin, and I'm trying to get Rooster to take care of that for me."

"What?" Jake's mind was reeling. He looked from you to the aviator at the pool table and then at your face once more. Then he jerked back a step. A virgin. Huh. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen one this close up before. Not around here, anyway. And, frankly you were hot enough that it did surprise him a bit, even though you were young. 

"You heard me," you muttered, playing with your skirt. "Don't make it into a big thing." You shook your head and glanced toward the bar. "What kind of beer does he like? It looks like he has a bottle of Stella."

You were definitely nervous right now, and Jake didn't like that one bit. "Oh, no. You don't want to hook up with Rooster."

"Yes," you insisted, clutching your little purse now. "I do. Because he won't even have to know about any of it. He'll just fuck me. And then I can get on with my life."

When you took a step toward the bar, Jake reached out for your hand. "He's drunk. You want your first time to be with someone who won't have the mental capacity to make sure you enjoy yourself, too? Make sure you come?"

Instead of pulling your hand free, you stopped and looked at the place where your fingers were connected with his. "I'm not worried about coming. I just want to get this over with."

Gently he pulled you closer until your chest bumped his, and then Jake took your chin carefully between his thumb and index finger. "How old are you, really?"

"I'm twenty."

He stroked your lip with his thumb. It was soft and plump and more than kissable. "Twenty," he echoed. "That's not too old, you know." 

You smirked. "Thanks. But I'm just trying to be sensible here. I don't need to be in love or anything like that. I'd rather have the experience. Rather get it out of the way so it doesn't hurt when I'm with the guy who keeps asking me out. And this way I'll know what to do."

Once more he touched his thumb to your lip and said, "Show me your real ID."

"Why?" you asked, frowning as his hand fell away. "That was my actual name on the one you saw."

"Just humor me, kid," he said firmly, holding out his hand. If you were only eighteen or even younger, he was going to have to ask you to leave or maybe even get Penny involved before you did go home with one of these horny assholes. 

With a huff, you handed it to him. According to the real one, you lived in San Diego. You turned twenty about two months ago. And that really was your name. "When you get a fake, you're supposed to fake the name, too. Everyone knows that. You're in college?"

You snatched it from him and tucked it away with the other one. "Yes, I'm in college."

"Then why the hell are you here right now?" he asked. "You want to lose your virginity so bad tonight? Go stand outside a dorm, and the guys will be lining up for a cute thing like you."

The annoyance and apprehension left your face and were replaced by something different. "Do you really think that's a better alternative than a slightly tipsy, attractive man in his 30s? Because I do not. I'm going for Rooster. But thanks for calling me cute."

Jake was getting so used to your smirk that as soon as you turned away from him again, he missed it. You were heading off toward Bradshaw, and for some wild reason, he was just unwilling to let you do this with him. Rooster wouldn't ask if you were a virgin, and you certainly wouldn't tell him. It might be good for you, and it might not, but Jake thought you should at least be with someone who would try.

"No no no no." He had his hands around your waist, pulling your back against his front. "It's not happening," he muttered next to your ear. "I can call a ride for you, or I can drive you home myself, but that's not going to happen."

You spun around and glared at him. "You said I was cute. I can handle this."

Jake sighed and tipped his face toward the ceiling for a beat as he held you in place with his hands at the middle of your back. "Not with any of those guys," he practically growled through gritted teeth. "I don't know how to make myself any more clear."

You weren't struggling in his grasp, and he knew he should let you go anyway, but he wanted you to agree to letting him get you an Uber. But then you leaned in a little closer with a glint in your eye and asked, "Who's going to do it then? You?"

"Me?" he asked, wide eyes slowly drifting down to your lips. He could feel the leather of your skirt against his pinky as his fingers flexed with the need to keep you close. He could smell your skin and see your pupils growing wider. Your softly parted lips were right there.

You nodded slowly and said, "I mean... I don't even know your name, but I'm sure you could show me the ropes, aviator."

He swallowed hard, eyes never leaving yours. "I'm Jake," he said, his voice lower and needier than he anticipated. "And I need you to tell me what you're going to do if I say no."

Your smirk was back. "Well, Jake the aviator, if you say no, then I'll go ask Rooster and keep my fingers crossed that he's into it."

It wasn't that Jake wasn't keen on the idea of getting his hands all over you, because he was. And that was the problem. He wasn't any better than the rest of the guys. Not really. He didn't deserve to get to have you. But the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced he'd make it good. He wouldn't hurt you or do anything you didn't welcome. And he wouldn't kick you out after a few hours. 

"It's a bad idea," he said, and then your lips were on his. You caught him off guard, and after that one gentle kiss, you started to pull away. Your eyes were wide and innocent, and he couldn't stop himself. He chased you for another taste, and it was the sweetest thing he could ever remember. Your hand crept up to rest on his chest as he drew your tentative lips back to his, pulling you snug against his body. Soft kiss after soft kiss left his nose bumping against yours as he whispered, "I said it's a bad idea."

Then you were kissing him again. Harder this time. Your hand went around the back of his neck, and he took a palm full of leather as he squeezed your ass. Oh shit. You were a nice handful for him. Honestly, he could get hard for you right here, and now you surely felt it as he rolled his hips forward against yours. 

And then you moaned into his mouth as your fingers slipped up into his hair, and Jake knew it was hopeless. You nibbled on his lip before you pulled a few inches away, looked at him with desire filled eyes, and whispered, "I think it might be a good idea."

"God damn it."

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

Is Jake actually any better than the rest of the horny guys? Is this a bad idea or a good idea? The problem is Jake likes stubborn girls who give him a hard time. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

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[dedalvs]

Someone on Reddit asked about a name like "Star Eater" in Valyrian for a dragon and I wanted to share my response here, as well.

*****

If you want my 2¢ on this, names like Star Eater, Moon Racer, Sun Chaser, etc. are good examples of Common Tongue dragon names, but not good examples of Valyrian dragon names. In the Common Tongue (a.k.a. English) it's easy to put together compounds and come up with names. This is much, much less likely to happen in Valyrian. You can do it, but, frankly, it sounds clunky and awkward.

To give you a real world example of this, here are some Song of Ice and Fire names translated into Spanish:

Storm's End: Bastion de Tormentas

King's Landing: Desembarco del Rey

Rattleshirt: Casaca de Matraca

The translators are trying their best, but these translations simply do not (a) convey the sense you get from the English, or (b) come off as natural-sounding Spanish names. This is exactly what you get when you translate things like "Moondancer" or "Dark Sister" into Valyrian.

A more natural way to create a Valyrian name that sounds Valyrian is to start with your target word and embellish it. If you start with qēlos you might get Qēlazmia or Qēlalbrion, both of which might be kind of clunkily translated into English as "Great Star". In truth, there's no way to capture the sense of it with a single word in English because our morphology works differently. You'd have a better shot in Spanish (maybe Estrellona).

If you wanted to translate "Star Eater" literally, it'd be something like Qēlosipradaros. It is quite literally "star-eater", but it doesn't look like a Valyrian name. Think about all the Valyrian names you see in the book—for dragons and people: Daenerys, Aegon, Viserys, Meraxes, Aemon, Aenys, Rhaegar, Jaehaerys, Helaena, Rhaenyra, Daemon… They don't look that big. They don't look like compounds. They can essentially be broken down into three parts: (1) the main semantic content piece, (2) the augment (optional), and (3) the ending. Daemon, for example, looks about as basic as a Valyrian name gets. You have part (1) daem and part (3) -on. We see the ending -on a lot, so we know it's an ending, as opposed to -mon, for example. Daeneryslooks a little bigger, so you have part (1) daen, part (2) -er, and part (3) -ys. That is as big and complex as a Valyrian name gets.

If you look at the list of known dragons, the only time you see the English-y names for dragons are afterAegon's Conquest. And this makes sense. Once they're living in Westeros, the Targaryens start adopting Westerosi customs more and more: their language, their religion, their day-to-day practices... The younger Targaryens are essentially Common speakers that Valyrian as a heritage language. It makes sense that they'd name their dragons in the Common Tongue. There are a still a few Valyrian names mixed in, but that's also to be expected, depending on whether they want to honor their family's heritage or do something new that speaks to them.

In short, it doesn't make sense to render the Common Tongue names in Valyrian as they were never Valyrian to begin with. I'd say if you like the meaning "Stareater", do it in English. If you want a Valyrian name, build it up in a Valyrian way.

[alisonsfics]

lovers to exes, to lovers? part two

pairing: ex!tyler owens x ex!reader

summary: who ever heard of exes being civil after a breakup? not you and tyler. which makes it interesting when you both end up in the same town.

word count: 4.1k

part 1

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, hand jobs, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, praise kink kinda, minors DNI (18+ only)

You had a horrible night, tossing and turning all night as you struggled to fall asleep. The image of Tyler with some mystery girl was torturing you.

You didn’t know why you felt jealous. Tyler’s wasn’t yours anymore. You both had your chance, and you both crashed and burned. You didn’t know why you felt like giving it a second chance.

So the next morning, you were understandably grouchy. You headed down to the diner to get some coffee.

You waited at the counter as the waitress poured you coffee and toasted a bagel for you.

You looked down the counter and saw Boone sitting a few feet away. He politely smiled and waved at you. “You excited for the storms today?” You asked him, walking over and taking the seat next to him.

“Totally. The conditions look great today.” He said, enthusiastically. You quickly thanked the waitress as she handed you your food.

“Hey, good morning, sweetheart,” you heard Tyler say behind you. You quickly spun around and froze when you saw Tyler smiling down at you.

“I have to go find Javi. It was nice talking to you, Boone.” You said, before spinning on your heel and leaving the diner. Tyler was left stunned as you refused to even acknowledge him.

He slowly sat down next to Boone, his eyes following you as you left. “I thought you said that you two patched things up a little?” Boone asked, equally confused by the way you ignored Tyler.

“I thought we did. Maybe I was wrong,” Tyler said, softly. He felt a pit in his gut. He had felt optimistic last night that you both could put aside your differences, but you weren’t done being mad at him yet.

He wasn’t immune to feeling the chemistry between you both. He felt stupid for hoping that you’d invite him into your room last night.

You spotted Javi and the team looking at a map by the trucks. You lightly jogged over and started helping them plan.

A storm to your east was starting to form. “I think that one’s the most promising.” You said, pointing that direction.

“I completely agree. Let’s roll out.” Javi said. That seemed to be the common opinion as most of the chasers started piling into their trucks. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tyler and Boone walk out of the diner.

You helped Javi pack up the map and laptops, so you could leave. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw Tyler jogging over to you.

“Not now. We’re about to leave.” You dismissed him, refusing to even look at him.

“Yeah, us too.” He said, walking closer to you and grabbing your hand. A jolt of electricity ran through you as you felt the roughness of his hand. “Be safe out there, sweetheart, okay?” He said, softly kissing the back of your hand.

You tugged your hand away from him. “I will be.” You said shortly, before jumping into the passenger seat of the truck.

“So what’s up with you and Owens?” Javi asked as you raced towards the growing storm. You shrugged to yourself. “I don’t know. He was a dick last night, and he came to my room to apologize. It felt really heartfelt, and maybe like, I don’t know, like he was still into me?” You said, not knowing how to describe the feeling.

Javi let out a loud laugh. You spun around to face him. Seeing your confused expression, Javi explained, “I’ve seen him look at you. Come on, you’re a genius and you can’t see that he likes you?”

You shook your head. “He clearly doesn’t. Cause I went to his room afterwards, to try to…ummm” you struggled to find a way to describe it that wasn’t “fuck your ex-boyfriend.”

Javi wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Bow chicka bow wow,” he said in a sing-song voice, mocking you. You jokingly rolled your eyes at his juvenile nature. You could feel your cheeks start to heat up.

“Okay fine, guilty as charged, but I got to his room, and let’s just say, he was already occupied with another girl. I overheard them and obviously ran back to my room, so I don’t think he knows that I know.” You said, looking back out the window.

“Oh, man, I’m sorry.” Javi quickly apologized. He felt bad for you. It was clear that Tyler was special to you, even if he got on your nerves.

Just then, Tyler’s truck swerved right up next to you guys. You could see Boone cheering in the passenger seat. Tyler shot a wink towards you. You rolled your eyes and focused your attention straight ahead. Tyler furrowed his eyebrows as you ignored him before speeding off ahead of you.

“Oh, fuck him,” you muttered to yourself.

“I think you’ve already done that.” Javi joked, trying to change the mood in the car. Your jaw dropped as you looked at Javi, in shock. You struggled as you tried not to laugh at his joke. You playfully hit his arm.

The school of trucks closed in on the tornado that had just touched down. Tyler’s truck sped ahead of everyone else, as you expected.

You and Javi jumped out of the truck to turn on the sensors. You both struggled to turn the machine on. “Oh, come on, you piece of shit,” Javi swore, hitting the barrel.

You felt the air change. You turned around and saw a second tornado touch down behind you. “Javi, get in the car, now,” you yelled, knowing if you got boxed in, you were screwed.

In his rearview mirror, Tyler saw you both running back into the truck, and then he saw the second tornado. “Boone, hold on,” he yelled as he quickly spun the truck around and started racing towards you.

Javi started to drive away when you saw a tractor flying through the air. It was coming straight for you. You could feel the hair stand up on the back of your neck as you braced for it to hit.

The tractor slammed against the side of the truck. The loud screeching of metal stung your ears. You could feel the truck started to flip. You desperately reached for anything you could get your hands on.

Tyler felt his heart drop as he watched your truck flip upside down. He swore under his breath. The tornado was coming straight for you, and you couldn’t move.

Tyler drove up next to you and smacked the button to start drilling the truck into the ground. Him and Boone jumped out of the car. Tyler raced to your side.

He quickly kicked in your window. Tyler was a self-proclaimed adrenaline junkie, but he’d never felt his heart beat this fast.

He grabbed your arms and pulled you out the window, while Boone helped Javi out.

Tyler quickly swooped you up bridal style and ran towards his truck. Javi and Boone hopped into the driver and passenger seats. Tyler swung the back door open and climbed in with you in his arms.

As soon as the door closed, the tornado picked up Javi’s truck and sent it flying through the sky. Tyler only had time to get you buckled in the harness. He landed on top of you. He wrapped his arms your waist, holding on tightly.

You cupped the back of his head with your hand. His eyes were tightly closed as he buried his face in your neck.

You could feel how his whole body was shaking with fear. It wasn’t fear for himself. It was for you. He couldn’t stand the thought of you getting even a scratch.

Suddenly, the truck stopped shaking and the winds let up.

Tyler picked his head up to look at you. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. You quickly nodded your head.

He rolled off of you and laid across the backseat. The car was silent except for all of you catching your breath. Tyler stared at the roof of the truck as his chest rapidly rose and fell.

He couldn’t bear to think about how close he came to losing you. You unbuckled the harness and jumped out of the car. “No, sweetheart wait,” Tyler said, weakly. He’d accepted that you wouldn’t listen.

You looked all around you at the damage. The grass was all torn up and debris had fallen everywhere. You saw Javi’s truck in the distance, it was completely smashed.

You heard Tyler jump out of the truck and walk over to you. He walked up behind you and set his hand comfortingly on your shoulder. “C’mon, sweetheart, we’ll give you a ride back.” He said, softly.

You shook your head and shrugged his hand off of you. “I’ll be fine. I’ll walk.” You argued, stubbornly. Tyler let out an exasperated sigh. He grabbed your hand tightly, not letting you pull away this time.

“I’m not letting you walk back. We’re at least five miles from the motel. You almost died, and you’re still being stubborn? Stop pushing me away and let me be here for you.” He snapped at you. Tyler was okay with giving you your space, but not when it put you in danger.

“I’m not the one pushing people away.” You remarked, pushing past him and getting in the back of the truck. Tyler sighed, defeated.

Boone and Javi gave you sympathetic smiles as Tyler got back in the truck and started driving to the motel.

As soon as he pulled into the parking lot, you jumped out of the car and headed towards your room. Tyler jumped out and was hot on your tail.

“Enough being stubborn,” he said, grabbing your arm and pulling you back towards his truck. Boone and Javi quickly hopped out and went to catch up with the rest of the teams.

Tyler kept a tight grip on your arm while he grabbed the first aid kit from the bed of the truck. He flung the tailgate open. In a swift motion, he picked you up and sat you on the tailgate before joining you.

“I know for some reason you’re pissed at me, which I still don’t understand cause you were fine last night. But you have a giant cut on your arm, and it needs to be cleaned, okay?” He said, setting your arm across his lap.

You felt bad for ignoring Tyler when he was being sweet, but then you’d remember that he spent all night with someone else wrapped around him, and your blood would start to boil.

He softly wiped your arm with a cleaning wipe. He gave your hand a quick squeeze when you winced at the sting. You gave in a little and rested your head on Tyler’s shoulder.

You didn’t see the way he smiled down at you. He was looking at you like you were his everything. He carefully bandaged your arm up.

You both sat in silence for a few minutes. He rested his hand on your back, softly rubbing his thumb back and forth. Tyler’s touch still comforted you more than you cared to admit.

“Watching your truck flip over really fucking scared me. I think my heart actually stopped beating for a second. I don’t know what I would have done if you got hurt.” He admitted.

His voice came out as a soft whisper in your ear. You were the only person he felt comfortable talking to about his feelings. Most of the time, those feelings were annoyance, but you were also the only girl Tyler had ever said “I love you” to.

“You’re the reason I didn’t get hurt. If you hadn’t helped, I would have died. I saw where the truck ended up. It was completely smashed up.” You said softly, a single tear rolling down your cheek.

He brushed your hair out of your face and kissed your temple. “I’m always gonna be there for you. You’re my everything. You make all of this make sense.” He told you.

You picked your head up off his shoulder to look at him in shock. Tyler had been acting nicer to you, but a love confession was not what you expected. Not after he spent the night with someone else.

“Oh, come on, Tyler,” you groaned, giving a deadpan look. He didn’t respond. He searched your eyes for some clue as to how you were feeling. This wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. He’d been expecting you to either kiss him or slap him across the face again.

“What? Is it so hard to believe?” He asked, resting his hand on your knee.

“I know that you don’t mean that because if you did, you wouldn’t have been with that girl last night.” You snapped at him. He froze. He genuinely thought he misheard you.

“What girl from last night?” He asked you, furrowing his eyebrows at you. His brain was running through everything from last night, and he had no idea what you were talking about. “I went to your room last night, and I heard you with a girl.” You told him, thinking he was just playing dumb.

His look of confusion turned into a subtle smirk. “You went to my room last night?” He asked, rubbing his thumb over your knee. You hadn’t realized that you’d handed him some of the power. He was giddy as he realized that if you had found him last night, you both would’ve had a one night stand.

“All you got from that was I went to your room? You’re ridiculous.” You said, rolling your eyes at him. That flirty smile never left his face. “Why’d you go to my room?” He asked, even though you both knew damn well why you went.

You put your head in your hands. You shouldn’t have been surprised that Tyler was still acting like a child after all these years. You lightly smacked his arm, trying to get rid of the cocky look on his face. “Would it shut you up if I told you I wanted to have sex with you last night?” You asked him.

His eyes ran down your frame. Something about hearing it from your lips made it ten times more satisfying.

“I’m really flattered, sweetheart. I guess you always know where to go for a good time.” He said, winking at you.

“It doesn’t matter anyway.” You said, crossing your arms and huffing at him. He chuckled to himself as he watched you pouting.

“It does matter cause I share a room with Boone. He was with a girl. I slept in my truck.” He told you with a giant smirk. You had been feeling jealous and angry, but your expression morphed into one of complete shock. Tyler chuckled at your clear surprise.

You flicked him in the forehead. “I’ve been mad at you all day because I thought you were just trying to sleep around with every girl here.” You told him, like you were reprimanding a child.

He shrugged and raised his eyebrows. “If you had just been honest with me, I would have told you that. But, you decided to pout all day.” He teased you.

“So, you’re telling me if I had just texted you last night…” you started to say. He quickly nodded his head. “Yep, I could have done whatever dirty little thing you had in mind.” He said, with a twinkle in his eye.

Your eyes went wide as you imagined what could have happened. “So, what do you think? Is it too late now?” You asked him, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

Tyler practically dragged you off the truck, and he kicked the tailgate closed with his foot. His rough hand quickly found yours and interlaced your fingers. He tugged you towards your room.

You both sprinted up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. You made it to the door first, leaning back against it. Tyler stopped for a second, admiring you and looking your whole body up and down.

You felt like a supermodel when Tyler looked at you. It was like he was always trying to commit every detail of you to memory.

You grabbed the collar of his flannel and tugged him towards you. His lips met yours in a heated rush. His rough calloused fingers slipped under your tshirt and ran over your stomach.

“I fuckin’ love you.” Tyler mumbled into the kiss as you raked your fingers through his hair. You both paused for a second, realizing the gravity of what he’d just confessed. It’d been years since he last told you he loved you.

“I love you too, Tyler Owens.” You said, softly. His lips crashed back into yours. He took your bottom lip between his teeth and playfully tugged at it. Your soft whimper was muffled as Tyler kissed you, but he heard it.

He let his hands slide down the curve of your back. They stopped at your ass, giving it a playful squeeze. You arched your back, pushing yourself into him. “Oh, fuck, sweetheart,” Tyler praised you.

You blindly reached for the door handle, managing to slip it open without breaking the kiss. You stumbled backwards into the room as Tyler guided you.

The door slammed as Tyler kicked it shut. He sloppily kissed you, wanting to memorize the taste of your lips. Your legs bumped into the edge of the bed. “Tyler, just need a second,” you mumbled against the kiss, struggling to pull away as he hungrily kissed you.

You kicked off your shoes and shimmied out of your jeans. Tyler took the hint and did the same with his boots and jeans. “I’ve got this, sweetheart,” he said, grabbing the hem of your damp tshirt and slowly peeling it off of you.

He carelessly let it drop to the floor as his eyes landed on your black lace bra. “Oh, fuck, beautiful. You’re gonna be the end of me.” He said as he stared at you speechless.

You crawled backwards onto the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Then, come join me.” You encouraged him. His fingers eagerly fumbled with the buttons on his flannel before he flung it to the side.

He practically pounced on top of you. Your eyes were glued to his chest, admiring his toned abs. “You know what that look does to me.” He teased you. Nothing was better for his ego than watching you drool over him.

He grabbed the back of your neck and leaned in to kiss you. Feeling Tyler’s bare chest against you was enough to make you see stars. You gripped onto his muscular shoulders. Your stomach did flips every time you felt his muscles flex under your fingers.

“You’re so beautiful,” he complimented you, weaving his fingers through your hair.

Your finger trailed down his chest, stopping right before you got to his boxers. He pushed his hips against you, in anticipation. “Patience, cowboy,” you teased.

Your fingers slipped past the waistband of his boxers. You wrapped your fingers around his cock. His grip on your hair tightened, and he bit down on his lip. “Feels like heaven, sweetheart,” he let out a breathy moan.

You ran your hand up and down his length a few times. Each time, he jutted his hips into your hand. Your thumb ran over the tip, and a whole string of curse words came flowing out of Tyler’s mouth.

“That’s enough, sweetheart. I don’t wanna cum til I’m inside you. Let me get you warmed up though.” He instructed. You shuddered at his strict tone. He pulled your hand out of your boxers, and then pulled your panties down your legs. You quickly unfastened your bra and threw it to the side.

Tyler grabbed the back of your thighs and roughly pulled you towards him. Before you knew it, he’d hooked your legs over his shoulders. You whimpered as you felt his hot breath between your legs.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I remember exactly how you like it.” He teased, winking up at you. He laid his tongue flat against your folds and licked a thick stripe.

You bucked your hips up against his face, which only encouraged him more. He grabbed your thighs, making sure you couldn’t pull away.

He teased your entrance, watching as your back arched against the sheets. “Just desperate for me, aren’t you?” He asked, cockily. You furiously nodded your head as you bit down on your bottom lip.

He dove in, licking in the shape of small figure eights. You moaned his name, turning him on even more. Tyler loved to hear you whine and moan his name. It was his favorite sound.

Wanting to hear it again, he lightly sucked on your clit. “Oh, fuck, Tyler.” You mumbled, grabbing his hair and grinding down on his face. Tyler loved making you desperate enough that you took a little control. He licked circles around your clit, speeding up each time he heard a breathy moan.

You looked down at him and admired the sight. There was nothing hotter than the image of Tyler with his face buried between your legs. In bed, Tyler never did anything half-assed.

You grabbed at the sheets, balling them up in your fists. Your knuckles turned white as you got closer. You repeated his name like you were a broken wind-up toy. It drove Tyler crazy.

You felt a tightening in your stomach as Tyler gave more attention to your clit. Your thighs squeezed around his head, only egging him on more. “Baby, yes yes,” you screamed, almost pornographically.

Before you could warn him, Tyler felt your legs start shaking as you hit your orgasm. You called out his name as you felt yourself clenching. “Such a good girl, you ready for another round?” He coaxed.

You were gasping for air, but you quickly nodded your head. Tyler chuckled at your eagerness. He kicked off his boxers and laid on top of you.

“You did so good, baby. Don’t worry, I’ll do all the work. You relax and cum for me again.” He said, wiping your hair off your sweaty forehead. You pecked his lips, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

He deepened the kiss and pushed his cock into you. You gasped as you adjusted to his size. “You seem impressed, like I haven’t fucked you a thousand times.” Tyler teased, planting kisses along your jawline.

“I forgot how fuckin’ big you are.” You moaned. You knew his ego needed boosting every now and then, and you weren’t lying.

“I love filling you up like this. You feel like heaven— so tight for me.” He moaned as he thrusted back into you.

Hearing his sweaty skin slap against yours only turned you on more. You thrusted your hips up to meet his. Tyler let out a low moan as your nails scratched down his back. He grabbed your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist.

He pushed even deeper into you. Your breath got caught in your throat. “Come on, baby, just like that.” You encouraged him. He sped up his pace, pounding into you.

The bed frame thudded against the wall repeatedly. Neither of you cared about pissing off the neighbors. Your eyes rolled back as he hit your g-spot.

“I know you’re close, baby. I feel it.” He groaned. Every time you squeezed down on his cock, his hips bucked into yours.

His thumb found your clit and started rubbing tight circles. Your moans got higher pitched and louder as you felt your stomach begin to tighten.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” you warned him. His pushed his hips deeper into yours. Your legs were starting to shake. “Me too, honey. Cum with me.” He instructed. You pushed your hips up to meet each of his thrusts. You caught a glimpse of how his cock got buried inside of you with every thrust.

You both were starting to see stars. “O-ohh, fuck, baby. I’m gonna—” Tyler moaned as his hips jutted into yours. He pumped you full of his cum. It was enough to send you over the edge. Your orgasm hit you, and you sunk your nails into Tyler’s shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped indents.

He slowed his thrusts as you squeezed onto his cock. He rested his head on your shoulder, catching his breath. You raked your fingers through his hair, kissing his temple.

He rolled off of you and collapsed next to you. “That was fucking magic, sweetheart.” He said, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder. You interlaced your fingers with his, giving his hand a quick squeeze.

“Guess we need to stay together to keep each other sane.” You mumbled, catching your breath. Tyler chucked. “Oh, you’re never getting rid of me again.” He said, pecking your lips.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @lillyssh-tposts @shyinadarkplace @vanteguccir @missroro @guacam011y @sw33t-cupid @ice-dtae @leyannrae @sia2raw @nyx2021 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @shyconversationalbookworm @shadowhuntyi @visenyaverse @ruzannetheseahorse @superdeath @wandaswifeyforlifey @spookyqueen @mcuswhore @princess-evans-addict @n3ssm0nique @peakascum @cjand10 @namsey1987 @supernaturalstilinski @stephv213 @warriormirkwood @one-sweet-gubler @narliesstuff @bibissparkles @stupiidfrogs @navs-bhat @alipap3 @djs8891 @love2write2626 @khaleesibeach @ateliersss @xbox5angelx @kneelforloki @ipromiseidk @marvelcasey05 @ilovefictionalcharacters26 @lovelyleanie @avengersgirllorianna @nerdgirljen @willowpains @ellesmythe @harrysgothicbitch @mikoxvelez

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

[queenofwands89]

Do you do fanfic requests? If so I was hoping for maybe an angsty enemies to lovers with Tyler Owens, like they are rivals and just got off on a bad start that spiraled into them hating each other but slowly seeing there's more there but being in denial until maybe like Reader gets injured in a chase or helping someone and Tyler realized how he truly feels? Idk lol. Just need some good angst and hurt comfort.

Stormfront Showdown (Part 1)

Tyler Owens x fem!Stormchaser!reader

Summary: Y/N and Tyler have been longstanding rivals, their past filled with unresolved conflicts and clashing opinions on storm chasing. With vastly different approaches to tracking and studying storms, their heated debates have become legendary. Now, with the upcoming storm chasing convention on the horizon, tensions are set to skyrocket. You know Tyler will be there, and the question is: will this be another explosive encounter, or will the storm finally bring them together in unexpected ways?

Word count: 2262

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, verbal sparring, competition, dumb blonde joke, teasing, a little angsty idk.

Notes: Thank you so much for your request! I apologize for the delay; I recently started school and things have been hectic. I took a bit of creative liberty with your request and turned it into a short series. I hope you don't mind! If anyone wants me to make a taglist, just let me know. I hope you enjoy it—bye! 💜

The storm chaser convention is your annual pilgrimage as a weather enthusiast or professional. The ballroom of the Kansas City Grand Hotel buzzes with anticipation. As you stand at the entrance, your eyes sweep the room with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. You don't particularly enjoy these crowded events, preferring the solitude and precision of your solo chases, but your presence here is a necessary evil—an opportunity to share your findings and emphasize the importance of safety and scientific rigor.

You smooth the front of your blazer, double-checking your notes for the panel discussion. It’s then that you spot him: Tyler Owens. The Tornado Wrangler himself stands surrounded by a throng of fans and admirers, his laughter loud and infectious. His rugged appearance, complete with cowboy boots and a well-worn hat, seems to dominate the room. Boone is there too, camera in hand, capturing every moment for Tyler's YouTube channel. Lily, Dexter, and Dani mingle nearby, each in their element.

You inhale deeply, trying to steady your nerves. The name Tyler Owens epitomizes everything you abhor in storm chasing—recklessness, unchecked bravado, and an insatiable thirst for sensationalism. To you, he is the living antithesis of diligent scientific inquiry and responsible journalism.

Your last encounter with Tyler was nothing short of disastrous. What began as a simple disagreement escalated into a full-blown public feud, broadcasted for the world to see via social media and various news outlets. You had penned a scathing article, meticulously criticizing his methods as dangerous and irresponsible. Your words were sharp, intended to signal a wake-up call not just to him but to the entire community of storm chasers.

Tyler, never one to retreat from controversy, responded with an incendiary video. Filled with passionate retorts and dismissive gestures, his rebuttal ignited a firestorm of reactions, polarizing the storm-chasing community and capturing the attention of a captivated audience.

The bitter memory of this exchange still lingers in your mind, a festering wound that has yet to heal. Now, as you anticipate another face-to-face meeting with him, you feel the weight of that unresolved animosity. You brace yourself for the confrontation that seems as inevitable as the approaching storm you both intend to chase.

The panel is called to order, and the moderator introduces the speakers with a flourish. You take your seat, your heart pounding in your chest. Tyler settles into the chair next to you, flashing a charming smile that belies the tension crackling between you.

"Welcome, everyone," the moderator begins. "Today, we have a diverse panel of storm chasers who will share their unique perspectives on this thrilling and dangerous field. Let's start with you, Y/N. Can you tell us about your approach to storm chasing?"

You take a moment to collect your thoughts before speaking. "I believe storm chasing is an essential tool for advancing our understanding of severe weather phenomena. My approach focuses on meticulous planning, data collection, and public safety. The goal is to minimize risk while maximizing scientific value."

Tyler leans forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he addresses the room. "You know, while I truly appreciate Y/N's unwavering commitment to safety," he begins, his voice smooth and confident, "we sometimes overlook the bigger picture. Storm chasing isn't just about data and caution—it's about raising awareness and capturing the awe-inspiring power of nature."

He pauses for effect, letting his words sink in before flashing a charismatic smile at the crowd. "My team and I, we're not just scientists; we're storytellers. We bring these magnificent storms to the world, showing people a side of nature they rarely see."

His smile widens, eyes sparkling with excitement. "We have a saying in our crew: 'If you feel it, chase it.' Because in those moments of raw, untamed nature, we find our stories, our inspiration."

The room erupts in appreciative murmurs and nods of agreement, some even breaking into applause. Tyler's infectious enthusiasm and charm work their magic, swaying the audience to his perspective, if only for the moment.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "Raising awareness is important, Tyler, but not at the expense of safety. Your methods put not just you and your team at risk but also the communities you travel through."

"And your methods," Tyler shoots back, "might yield scientifically valuable data, but they often lack the human element. People need to see the raw, unfiltered power of these storms to understand what we're dealing with."

The panel has been raging on for twenty minutes, each of you firing verbal volleys that keep the audience captivated. The tension is palpable, and it’s clear that you and Tyler aren’t on good terms.

Tyler leans forward, a cocky grin spreading across his face. He’s baiting you, and he knows exactly which buttons to push. "You know, ever since that article you wrote, questioning my methods, I've been wondering. Maybe you're just not a fan of a little excitement? Gotta admit, though, it did spark quite the public feud."

The hint of satisfaction in his voice is unmistakable—he’s reveling in the attention, the controversy, and most of all, the fact that he’s gotten under your skin.

You snap back, your tone fiery and unapologetic. "And with good reason. Your methods are reckless, Tyler. Capturing nature is one thing, but ensuring the safety of our team and the community is paramount. Data collection can be done without playing Russian roulette with our lives."

Tyler smirks, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Ah, but without taking risks, we miss out on the most stunning phenomena. The beauty of a storm isn't just in its data points—it's in the visceral experience."

Your eyes narrow, voice sharp and unyielding. "Visceral experiences are meaningless if they end in tragedy. We need to strike a balance—pushing limits, yes, but with calculated caution. Not reckless abandonment just to feed your adrenaline addiction."

Leaning in slightly, his voice drops to a teasing whisper, "Careful. If you play it too safe, you might end up in a cozy weather office instead of out there chasing the real action."

You raise an eyebrow, your smile icy. "Better a cozy office than a hospital bed, Tyler. Besides, in the office, I can keep an eye on your antics, making sure you don’t turn yourself into a cautionary tale."

Tyler chuckles, clearly unfazed. "Touché. But admit it, you'd miss our epic sparring sessions out in the field."

You smirk back, your tone dripping with sarcasm, "Maybe. But I'd miss watching you lose a battle of wits with a breeze. It's like a real-life dumb blonde joke, but without the punchline."

Boone, with his characteristic enthusiasm, interjects, "You both have valid points! The thrill and the data—can't we find a middle ground here that marries both perspectives?"

Tyler grins at Boone's comment, "Maybe, Boone. But finding that middle ground is easier said than done."

The moderator, sensing the escalating tension and the need to maintain decorum, finally calls for a break. Their calm yet authoritative voice cuts through the cacophony of arguments, bringing a temporary ceasefire.

"Let's take a ten-minute break to gather our thoughts," the moderator says, brokering no argument. "This will give everyone a chance to cool off and reflect."

The announcement is met with a collective exhale from the audience. You can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you step away from the podium, your mind racing with the flurry of ideas and rebuttals. Tyler shoots you a confident smirk, clearly reveling in the public sparring.

As the room buzzes with low conversations and people stretch their legs, you glance towards Boone, Lily, Dexter, and Dani. Boone gives you a thumbs-up, his eyes sparkling with excitement for the next round. Lily offers a supportive nod, while Dexter's contemplative gaze meets yours, as if silently urging you to remain steadfast. Dani approaches you quietly, her concern evident.

"Take a moment to breathe," she advises softly. "You’re doing great, but don’t let him get under your skin."

You nod, appreciating the support as you resolve to keep your composure for the next part of the debate. Tyler may have won the crowd for now, but the debate is far from over.

You step away from the panel, finding solace in a quiet corner of the room. You sip your water, your mind racing with a mix of frustration and determination. A voice interrupts your thoughts.

"Y/N," Tyler says, his tone unusually soft. "Can we talk?"

You turn to face him, your eyes narrowing. "There's not much to say, Tyler. We clearly have different philosophies that will never align."

He sighs, running a hand through his blonde hair. "Look, I know we've had our differences, but we're both here for a reason. We're passionate about what we do. Maybe... just maybe, there's a middle ground we haven't considered."

Before you can respond, a group of Tyler's ardent fans—mostly attractive young women whose adoration for him is barely concealed—swarm in, interrupting your conversation. Their laughter and excited voices fill the air as they clamor for his attention, each holding out their phones for selfies.

"Tyler, can we get a picture with you?"

"You're amazing, Tyler, can you sign this?"

Their voices form a cacophony of admiration and eagerness. Tyler gives you a fleeting look, a glimmer of regret in his eyes. As he turns to handle the eager fans, you seize the moment. You walk away quickly, your strides purposeful and filled with resolve.

By the time Tyler manages to take a few pictures and sign a couple of autographs, he looks up to continue the conversation, but you're already gone. He scans the room, his expression shifting from hope to dejection as he realizes you're nowhere to be seen.

His shoulders slump slightly, and a look of displeasure shadows his face. The admiring fans around him continue their cheerful chatter, but his thoughts are elsewhere. He looks in the direction you went, frustration evident as he contemplates the vanished opportunity to bridge the chasm between you.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

The second day of the storm chaser convention dawns with a swirl of excitement and anticipation. Yesterday had been a whirlwind, with Tyler and you continuing your intense, verbal sparring match during your panel. As soon as it ended, you purposely avoided Tyler for the rest of the day, determined to keep your distance and focus on the upcoming events.

Today, however, is different. You feel a surge of excitement as you head towards the sign-up area for the competition on advanced research—a competition you have won every year. You stride confidently through the bustling convention hall, ready to claim your victory once more.

Approaching the registration table, you're taken aback to see Tyler there, pen in hand, scribbling his name onto the sign-up sheet. Your eyebrows knit together in a mixture of surprise and annoyance as you walk up to him.

"What are you doing here, Tyler?" you ask, folding your arms across your chest. "This competition has strict rules that you couldn't follow even if they were spelled out in neon lights."

Tyler smirks and meets your gaze. "Decided to sign up this year. Thought I'd give you some real competition."

You lock eyes, each ready for a verbal duel. The air between you crackles with tension.

"If you think you can handle it, by all means, try," you retort, your voice tinged with sarcasm. "Just know that this isn't your usual chaotic escapade. This requires precision and knowledge—qualities that, frankly, I don't think you possess."

Tyler chuckles softly. "We'll see about that. Underestimating me might be your biggest mistake."

Before you can continue your exchange, the host of the panel steps up to a microphone, capturing the attention of everyone in the room. The host, a renowned meteorologist named Dr. Sandra Jacobs, greets the crowd with a warm smile and a practiced ease.

"Good morning, everyone! I'm Dr. Sandra Jacobs, and it's my pleasure to welcome you to this year's storm chaser convention!" Dr. Jacobs begins, her voice carrying effortlessly through the room. "As many of you know, this convention is a celebration of the fascinating and often dangerous world of storm chasing. It's a place for experts and enthusiasts alike to share their passion and knowledge."

A murmur of agreement ripples through the crowd as Dr. Jacobs continues.

"One of the highlights of our convention is the competition on advanced research. It's a chance for storm chasers to showcase their findings, methodologies, and innovations in storm tracking and prediction."

Your eyes shift back to Tyler momentarily, a competitive fire igniting within you.

"This year, however, we’ve decided to change things up," Dr. Jacobs announces, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "There will be no rules and no limits! The stakes are higher than ever, with $100,000 in research funding and a special feature on Discovery Plus for the winner!"

A collective gasp and murmurs of surprise and excitement ripple through the crowd. Your eyes widen slightly, processing the unexpected twist. Tyler glances at you, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.

"No rules, huh?" he teases, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Looks like your little rule-book speech just got thrown out the window."

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, both frustrated and fueled by the sudden turn of events. You watch him go, your mind already strategizing how to adapt to the new, unpredictable landscape of the competition. The game had just changed, and you are more determined than ever to come out on top.

[blackwidownat2814]

Steal My Thunder (T.Owens)

Pairing: Tyler Owens x female reader, Tyler Owens x shy!reader, Tyler Owens x insecure!reader

Word Count: 462

A/N: Welcome to my first Tyler Owens fic! I was throwing fic ideas around before I even saw the movie. I watched several interviews and other stuff on YouTube and took notes even. Then after seeing it the third time, I started working on this story. I don't anticipate this being a real long story, but I also will be a little slow to update because of work or writer's block or working on a crochet project I really need to finish. What I'm really saying is please be patient with me. Secondly, like in my other works, I'd planned to make this with a plus size!reader in mind, but I decided to go with insecure because I want to try and be a little more inclusive. Also, unless otherwise stated, my readers are always female readers. Lastly, I'm already working on Chapter 1, so keep an eye out for that. However, if you really like this, please let me know and I can tag you in future updates. And as always, I will be crossposting this to AO3. If you see this story anywhere besides AO3 or Tumblr, it's stolen Kthxbye! PS: Thanks to KJ & Jordyn for their help in beta-ing and title/chapter ideas! Love y'all!

Prologue

You were a Lead Meteorologist for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.  You should not be handling school age tour groups.  You were just about DONE with being treated like a secretary.  The rest of them thought that just because Kate was gone that they could go back to treating you like they did before her.

You were quiet, shy, and someone whose love language was acts of service, so you loved to help people out.  The problem was that your co-workers abused that part of you.  They asked to lead the school groups, bring everyone coffee, put together packets for meetings, etc.  Complete nonsense…and you were done.

It was then, as you mentally typed up your resignation, that you received a serendipitous call from Kate herself.

“I believe the sayin’ is ‘No man left behind’.”

“You’re not an US Army Ranger, B.”

“Yeah, well…”  You trailed off, not wanting to burden your friend with your issues.  Kate always told you that it was okay to talk to her when you needed someone, but you were stubborn.  You were very much of the ‘friends aren’t therapists’ mindset.

“Talk to me B.”

“I’m happy for you, ya know?  You’re back to doing’ something I know you loved.  I can see it in your eyes with each video or stream I watch.”

“Okay, keep your secrets…and thank you.  I am happy.”

“So…what can I do for ya?  Why are you botherin’ me on my lunch hour?”

“Damn!  Sorry about that B.”

“You know I don’t actually care.  Tell me what’s up.”

“I’m callin’ with a job off-”

“I’ll take it.”

“Woah, I haven’t even said what it-”

“I don’t care.  Ever since you left, and because I’m a huge push over, everyone’s been walking all over me.  You know I had to do three tours today?”

“We’ve talked about this.”

“I know Kate.  Just…what’s the job anyway?”  Your friend was silent for a moment, before you heard her exhale.

“It’s storm data analysis really.”

“Elaborate.”

“We’re trying to really get down to the nitty gritty with the data from the EF-5 we got to dissipate last season and see where to improve, how to catalog it in our info database, etc.”

“I’m in”, you said.  “Y’all won’t treat me like some secretary, I’ll be close to home again, and I’ll get to spend all my time with you.”

“We most definitely will not treat you like some secretary.  We’re equal opportunity storm chasers out here.”

You tossed your empty sandwich bag into the trash and pulled up Word to start drafting your resignation letter.

“Say, what are the benefits as a Tornado Wrangler?”  Before Kate could reply, you heard Boonie baby! Woo! in the background.

With that enthusiasm, what could possibly go wrong?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagging: @buckysdollforlife @13braincellsonly

[daydreamsinrosie]

Competition: Draco Malfoy x HP’s sister! Reader headcanon, Part 1.

Hi everyone, I hope you enjoy this off the wall impulsive thought that I had to write out! Let me know if you would like a part 2 😊.

Themes: Harry is a distant brother, Draco bullying the reader a little, feeling isolated/unwanted, tension!!! (Not sexual).

Being the twin sister of the boy who lived doesn’t live up to the supposed title. In fact it means nothing when you were raised separately and behave simply as strangers towards each other.

Never mind being placed in a different house, finding yourself growing up in the walls of Ravenclaw tower with books and a couple of companions as friends.

However, one way you stand out is your intelligence. Smart is an understatement when you’re regularly competing for the top grades and have your praises sang by Professor McGonnagall, drawing the ire of Hermione and half of Gryffindor House.

“Exceptional. Some of you would be wise to follow Miss Y/N’s lead”. The statement wasn’t enough to hide Snape’s disdain of having to be nice for once, resulting in a small laugh from you and then you getting detention reorganising the potions stores for supposed “immaturity”.

Despite the accolades, you can say you fall under the radar and mainly prefer this. Five years in and you know your place at Hogwarts.

Draco Malfoy however, doesn’t.

Draco isn’t sure what kicked in during third year, but all of a sudden you became the subject of his greatest desire and the bane of his existence simultaneously.

Of course, he can’t admit that.

He can’t admit that the flush on your cheeks when you answer questions slightly nervously in class gives him a feeling of pride that he can’t explain.

Or that seeing you dance with a Hufflepuff keeper at the Yule Ball led him to almost throwing his drink on any Slytherin who dared tease him about it.

And he definitely can’t admit that watching you play quidditch as Ravenclaw’s star chaser heats his entire body up and he now struggles to look away from you whenever you were near each other.

So how has he gone about showing any feelings towards you all these years? Bullying, namely.

“Professor Snape! Y/N over here has brother dearest’s penchant for attention seeking, just look at what she’s tried to do with her Sleeping Draught!”

In reality, you had just followed the instructions but had attempted to also brew a remedy to repel any sluggishness from the potion.

“Five points from Ravenclaw for sheer cheek, you should know better than to think fame would work on me.”

Or the countless times he’s jinxed your legs in the hallways to where you simply cannot walk without tripping over yourself or someone else.

Or most painfully, the times he’s used Harry’s obvious disinterest in you as a talking point.

“At least brother Potter knows better than to associate with a teachers pet who eats lunch alone. You’re telling me even the ghosts don’t find you good enough company?”

You can say that you’ve been strong enough to handle most of this, but seeing a look in Harry’s eyes where he’s essentially admitting to agreeing with Malfoy was enough to bring you to tears several times.

Right now it’s the start of fifth year.

Draco’s prefect badge is glossy and reflects brightly on his green robes, and he’s ready to solidify his authority whilst waiting in the prefect’s carriage with Pansy gripping his arm for dear life.

What he doesn’t anticipate is seeing you walk through a few moments later, with a blue and bronze badge mirroring his and a small proud smile on your lips as you sit separately from the other prefects.

Truth is, it’s terrifying to be surrounded by people you know that don’t like you, but fake it till you make it right?

Not so easy to do when you get mainly the same patrolling times to Draco and he ruthlessly persues underclass men.

“Detention to you for liking the Weasley’s, and detention to you because a Hufflepuff staying in the greenhouse past curfew sounds lame.”

“Malfoy, they’re only first years.”

“Want me to give you detention for undermining your authority as prefect, Potter?”

You genuinely didn’t have a response to something so stupid, but sheer embarrassment doesn’t stop you from facing Malfoy directly and simply saying “I dare you.”

And from that evening forward, Draco does what he can to push you into confronting him as often as possible, only to turn the tables and create tension that neither of you can easily rid of.

Some evenings whilst checking classrooms, Draco has you pushed against a table wanting to see you push against him and see a familiar pink blush crawl across your cheeks.

Other evenings it’s flirting with you, only to turn it around and attempt to remind you (and possibly himself) that it means nothing and that he’d rather swallow bubotuber puss than be attracted to you.

And suddenly it’s later in term, post Ravenclaw and Slytherin match in which you contributed to the house’s 100 point lead before the snitch was caught, and now tasked with locating any rogue students switching between common rooms at late-night parties.

Despite assumptions otherwise, Ravenclaw and Slytherin students get along fairly well. Maybe a little too well because Filch and Umbridge seem to have problems with “endless snogging.”

It’s a phrase so daft it gets a laugh out of you and Draco, and suddenly he senses an opportunity.

“I wonder what they would think of the two prefects who also play quidditch snogging in the corridor.”

Thankfully you recognise it as bait.

“If only one of the prefects wasn’t an insufferable toad, that could work.”

“A Toad?”

“Worse than a ferret, I presume.”

And now you’re pushed against a wall with barely any air between you both with a glint in Draco’s eyes and his arms on either side of your head.

You’re not sure if it’s the forced proximity from being so close across this first term, but you recognise just how sharp his jaw has gotten.

And you also recognise how easily he can keep you close to him, his lips only an inch away.

Maybe having someone to snog isn’t such a bad thing really.

“I can promise you, you will regret those words.”

“Really? And how are you supposed to do that, Malfoy.”

Draco doesn’t know it’s the confidence in your voice or the look of determination, but he can’t help himself and before he can argue with himself his lips are on yours.

He’s rough, holding your face in his hands and making sure your lips follow his as you instantly melt.

Time doesn’t exist in the minutes between you two as you both focus on nothing but each other, moving your hands to feel the strength of his arms and wanting nothing more than bringing Draco closer to you.

A second passes and his lips briefly leaves yours, whispering “jump”.

You don’t need to be told twice, and now your legs are wrapped around his waist and his lips meet yours again.

Neither of you want to admit it, but you’re both dreading the moment this is going to end.

[zriasstuff]

part two to all because i liked a boy plssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

All because I liked a boy pt.2

Theodore Nott x reader

Beware of mistakes, this is simply what my mind produced after a long period of having no motivation. It’s relatively short, but there will be more parts.

Summary of pt.1: Theodore Nott was dating Pansy, but also seeing you in secret at the same time. After pondering and dealing with moral dilemmas, you decided to end it. But just as you were getting closer with Pansy, she finds out, and this is how it goes from then on. I recommend you read pt.1 of “All because I liked a boy” for better context.

For two weeks now you’ve been trying to crawl your way back into the semi-friendship that you and Pansy shared. All in vain. There was simply nothing that could make up for what you did. No object expensive enough and no apology genuine enough to turn things around. The last conversation in class that you had went like this…

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but-“

“Then shut up”

“Pansy what will it take for me to redeem myself, please just tell me, I truly want to make it better”

She raised her hand after you said that and loudly announced that she couldn’t focus with you next to her. Now you sat next to Daphne. It was looking hopeless.

…

“LETS GO FRESH MEAT, NO SLACKING OFF!”, yelled Angelina. It’s not like you were doing it on purpose. You were considerably good at quidditch, but playing with your friends and playing competitively for house pride were two different things. Especially with Harry Potter, one of a kind wunderkind, on your team too.

Everything was dizzying around you. The players zoomed by so fast that you couldn’t even tell apart who was who. The balls flew up down left right, one blink and you could be knocked off your broom. Quidditch had never felt this intense. You try to manage and not drag the team down, but you don’t seem to be contributing much either. It’s alright considering you were “fresh meat”, but then you remembered that Harry caught the snitch as a first year…

Although Harry was team captain, Angelina was actually taking over the leader role.

“PASS NOW!”, she yells, and you’re not sure who she’s directing it at.

You frantically turn and freeze upon seeing a quaffle flying at you at maximum speed. It was now or never. The quaffle gets closer and closer, so close that you swear it was only millimeters away from your face. Failing was unacceptable at this point. And your reflexes don’t disappoint you. You reach out and your palms get hit with the immense pressure of the ball. It was almost painful, but you had to soldier through.

You’re not sure if it was the right call, but when some guy was hinting at you to pass the quaffle to him, you don’t. Your road to scoring wasn’t particularly blocked, and you had a shot. With one hand steadily holding the quaffle, and the other gripping onto your broom for dear life, navigating you through the players, you inch closer and closer to the rings and…

“SCOREEE!!! THAT'S HOW WE DO IT FRESH MEAT!”

You let out a fucking sigh. That was exhilarating. Hopefully you’d soon go from “fresh meat” to your own name, but all within due time. Right now, being the Gryffindor team's newest chaser addition was enough to satisfy you.

“TEAM HUDDLE”, Harry commanded so you all got into a circle before leaving today's practice session. “Don’t forget, we have a match against the Slytherins in five days, so I want all of you to be in top shape. Sleep enough, eat well, and no distractions” You all nod in unison to his last words, and leave the field one by one.

Frankly it was a bit nerve wracking that you had to play in such an important match, while having just joined. You didn’t want to disappoint everyone after all. But you remind yourself that there is a good reason for which you were accepted.

Your legs and arms ache from that intense practice match, causing you to slump a little while walking. In the dressing room you are left behind, with the others leaving one by one. As you’re about to step out too, you freeze at the sight of who was standing before you.

“So I see you made the team”, Theo carefully states.

You can only gulp at his words. You weren’t sure what this was going to lead up too.

“What made you join? I mean you are really good”

What was he doing? Oh, and the reason? You can’t help but think back to a certain first conversation with someone.

“I come in peace”, he continues saying.

Something made you think that that wasn’t entirely true.

“So what do you want?”, you finally respond.

“I don’t know. I guess…”, Theo suddenly goes silent in the middle of his sentence.

“Guess what?”

“Nevermind”, he swallows. “Good luck for the upcoming match anyway”. He then slowly turns and walks away, head down as if he was terribly ashamed.

So much for no distractions. You completely forgot that Theo played too. How fun that would be.

(taglist and tysm to everyone who supported pt.1: @pumpkinchee @inky-sun @valenftcrush @l4vendereads @rorysbrainrot @helendeath)

[galene-gothic]

𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗀𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗉𝖾𝗈𝗉𝗅𝖾'𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒'𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎?

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ I hope this reading found you in good health, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱

˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗             PAID SERVICES

⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 1 ꒱

Some people look at you while thinking that you're not using your full potential. People might also think that you're kind of lazy. There are two groups of people here, one group of you is really confident and people think it's overconfidence and the other group seems kinda under confident. I'm getting that for the majority of you, you might come off so confident that others feel insecure around you. Some people think that you're kind of cunning and witty too, people tend to be like "are they lying?" You might be one of those people who are so nice that you give off 'mean girls' energy. People think that you're mature and compassionate. You come off calm, caring and friendly, that's what your energy is like atleast. Especially if people haven't spoken to you yet. Sometimes you say things that make people pause and stare at you while wondering how and when you got so wise. People find it easy to be themselves around you. You might have men around you who seem to be devoted to you or atleast good emotional support. Jealous people especially might look at you while trying to figure out what's so special about you that you always manage to have such men be there for you. You guys are likely the people who don't tell anyone when a man is treating you bad. People try to humble you quite a lot too and I think it's because if you're still in school, people are likely jealous of you. Why? you may ask but you know the answer already.

It's because of the male attention you receive and even if you still aren't in school, people still don't grow up. If you're a man, people think that you're very loving and kind. It's funny how this pile is going to have different impressions for the two different sexes, men/boys who picked this pile have a good reputation while the women/girls who picked this pile are villainized. You're very observant, the type to compliment people on little things. You tend to say things like "your eyeshadow looks really good on you", "your voice is really sweet", "where did you get your bag? it's so cute", etc. People think that you must've atleast a few strong relationships in your life because of how you are. You are well-liked even if some insecure people will hate on you. You're responsible with your actions, some people take things really personally but you've learnt how to not do that anymore, "I'm sorry for saying that yesterday, it must've been hurtful." People think that you have strong morals. You are likely the kind of people who don't like talking about bad things that people have undergone behind their back or talk shit about someone who has not done anything to you. People look at you while thinking that you're really playful, you might be so childlike at times that people cannot even deny your requests. People feel safe and happy around you. People think that you accept their differences and find it easy to accept your differences too because of the same reason.

⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 2 ꒱

People look at you while thinking that you lack direction and goals in life. They think that you lack self esteem but oddly you seem to be a thrill chaser. People look at you while thinking that you're kind of really ungrounded but since most people in our generation especially are the same, it doesn't bother them much. People also think that you enjoy relationships only at the beginning or you only like the crust part when everything is fun. For some of you, you might be trying your best to grow but it might not be working which leaves you frustrated so you might end up expressing it at times by being really hard on yourself and people look at you while thinking "oh, so they're aware of what's going on." Much like the last pile, you might also come off overconfident. You seem untameable and people look at you while wondering how you can lack self-control and discipline so bad but still manage to get things done. Some of you might be cheaters or atleast people think so. You tend to waste your energy and resources on the wrong things and people. You might be going through a rough patch but well, honestly, if you're actually acting like this, you should accept it and try to understand that true happiness will come when your actions and words match your desires and needs.

You're also seen as arrogant at times. Many people understand why you're this way though, you might've gone through a break-up or heartbreak of some sort. They still hope that you'd stop acting so selfish though. Most of you are guilty of leading people on. You're also hot-headed and when you lose your mind, you could say or do really mean things. You might behave really rash, you should really try to control your actions, words and thoughts so that you'd not regret things later. You somehow have good time management skills though. People are actually quite confused when it comes to what to think of you. You're not sure about who you are either or just in a transformational phase. Sometimes, you act really mature and try to be grounded. You're also a hardworker in certain ways. You might juggle between different things, images and also people. You're somehow still being able to stay organised and balanced despite your reckless actions and thrill chasing behaviours, people do not understand you. People do think that you're unstable and unpredictable though. This reading is not supposed to be an attack, please keep that in mind, it's supposed to help you move forward. I do think that you're trying to be and do the best that you can though, I hope you only continue to be and do better.

⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 3 ꒱

Obviously, different people will look at you differently, certain people likely people you don't trust/people from the past look at you while wondering how you can be so uncaring. They think that you're very withdrawn from them and they're not welcome to come into your life. 'What do I call you?' by Taeyeon started playing. These are people who used to be really close to you but aren't anymore for whatever reason. The falling out must've been really bad. There are people from the past, likely lovers who think that you're overly emotional. You can be really moody though even if you're not overly emotional and some people from the past have seen that side of you and memorised it. People from the past are coming through very strongly here. They think that you're power hungry and individualistic, there's a chance that this person/group had people who were very similar and intolerant to people who were different from them. You might have been the type who refused to say or do certain things, hate on certain people for no reason, talk shit for no reason, etc. and they found it annoying, they thought that you were looking down on them and being hypocritical. Maybe, you had outgrown them, like maybe you had formed a bond based on talking shit about others, etc. and you were very similar at that time but once you had outgrown that and started having integrity, they thought that you were just acting like you were better than them. Not just them but everyone thinks that you have hidden secrets. Someone in your surroundings might be able to see that you have trauma and painful memories from the past.

They seem to have faith in you getting better though, they really do want the best for you. There's a chance that you don't talk much or aren't talking right now. Maybe, they were around you before but aren't anymore. Whenever they looked at you they thought that you manage to find the light even if it's just in a glimmer or they hoped that you would, likely because you taught them how to be more open to people and not use logic at all times. This person has likely seen your feelings rise, you might've cried or seemed overwhelmed and their own feelings also tend to resurface around you. I wonder if it's something romantic, they wonder if they're deluded at times. This person sees you in their dreams, you also show up in other people's dreams, not just theirs 💀. You make this person want to follow their heart though. People look at you while thinking that you're very attractive and charming. They might even be thinking "how are they even real?" You might be the kind of person, people don't believe you when you say "I'm not dating anyone" or something. People think that you always have someone who likes you or someone you like. People look at you while wondering how everything you do is so graceful, you might even walk slowly. You might have people come into your life as a 'knight in shining armour' or atleast that's what people think. People think that you must receive a lot of romantic proposals, etc. Thank you for reading, I think you're starting a new chapter in life and I hope you're able to have heartwarming experiences everywhere.

[tryingtofindava]

What about Kate with a cannibal reader?

─𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐥! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐩𝐭 𝟐) *ೃ༄

(Includes: Kate the Chaser, Jane the Killer, X-Virus and Clockwork.)

: ̗̀➛Back to source

Part 1

╰┈➤ 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫

She’s a funny one when it comes to your craving of human flesh…

She cares, but doesn’t at the same time??

If you act different when you’re hungry, she’ll probably get something for you to munch on.

It’s sweet honestly, she treats you like a hungry Victorian boy from the 1600s.

╰┈➤ 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

Acts like she’s your mother.

She has a little stash for both you and Jack.

Unlike Nina who would make the human meat up to your standards.Jane would have none of that, you get what your given.

“You were starving weren’t you? So eat.”

She doesn’t have time for you being fussy with food, you’ll eat what she provides.

And if you don’t like how she goes about it, get your food yourself.

╰┈➤ 𝐗-𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐮𝐬

Finds it interesting cause he’s a weirdo like that…

He will ask if you wanna try his human experiments, in the name of science of course.

Of course only the ones that he’s… 99% sure won’t kill you or make you ill. Not that you can die anyways, being a proxy and all.

But he will keep tabs on you if you do try his lab rats (humans).

“How’d you feel? What does it taste like? How many fingers am I holding-“ blah, blah, blah, blah.

╰┈➤ 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤

You eat humans? Cool…

She’d definitely get you snacks, an arm or thigh maybe, depends on how she’s feeling.

As much as she loves getting you your food, she’d find it hot if she went with you to get it.

Something about you biting into someone neck, man… I dunno. (She’ll ask when it’s her turn…)

She’d probably text you random shit like: ‘Hey babe, you hungry cause I’m going out.’

Without context to her messages anyone would find it sweet.

(Guess who’s back from the dead lolz…)

[alice-angel12x]

Born Of Unknown Stardust

Chapter 2

summary: The angles formed the world and all mortal life from dust. One day from the unknown the angels came across bizarre dust, that seemed to have a will of its own. It refused to be molded and shaped to the angel's will. So they cast it aside, till a certain angel got his creative hands on it.

(bittersweet story)

<-Part 1/ part 3 ->

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

150 years Later

Yuu quickly runs through the halls, searching for a place to hide. A flapping of wings was getting closer. Finding an open room, Yuu quickly hides under the desk. Staying as quiet as possible, as the sound of fast-beating wings zipped by the room. Yet Yuu knew better to stay there for long.

Sadly they were no longer the size of a duckling, but the size of a young toddler. So hiding was a lot harder.

So not wanting to get caught, Yuu quickly dove under a pile of sheets and clothes. Soon the chaser returned, and footsteps could be heard.

"Where are you Yuu? I know you're in here?" Lucifer said as he took his sweet time. "You can't hide forever."

Yuu covered their mouth to muffle their giggles. Lucifer chuckled to himself as he heard them. But decided to humor them for a bit, as he quickly looked under the desk. To obviously not find anyone.

"Alright, I guess no one is in here. Where did you go?" Lucifers said as he slowly left the room.

Yuu, the clever little tot they were, knew he was up to something. So burning up some sheets into a ball, and using some magic. Shot the sheet out the door, letting it float like someone was running under the sheets. Lucifer quickly gave chase, as Yuu ran in the opposite direction.

As Lucifer gave chase to the decoy, he heard the small pitter-pater of feet behind him.

"Hey! You Little Trickster, I got you know!" Lucifer chuckled as he swiftly changed direction and quickly caught the young tot.

Yuu squealed and laughed as Lucifer began to relentlessly tickle the child.

"You had me chasing you all morning, when I told you to clean your room. Will you clean your room now?" Lucifer asked as he continued to prod at Yuu.

"I Promise!!!" Yuu gasped from all the tickling.

Yuu giggled as they finally slipped out of Lucifer's hold when something caught their eye. Just beyond the pearly gates, the malted surface of the newly formed earth could be seen. From the window, Yuu stared in awe as Lucifer watched on.

"Da? Did the elders let you join the project yet?" Yuu asked.

"Nope. Still too radical my ideas. Are what they tell me," Lucifer sighed as he picked Yuu up.

"Hmm. Can we make our own earth?" Yuu asked.

"Our own earth? Hmm, maybe. But what would you put on this earth?" Lucifer asked.

"I would... I would fill it with Ducks!" Yuu said proudly.

"Ducks? A world full of ducks huh?" He smiles with a chuckle.

"Yeah, an earth of ducks," Yuu smiles. " I can create stuff like you. I can do it."

"Well, small things. You need to be a little stronger than that to make a whole planet. It takes multiple elder angels to form an Earth," Lucifer explained.

"Then I'll just get stronger, you'll teach me. Won't you?" Yuu asked.

"I'll teach you everything I know," Lucifer promised.

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

Yuu from then on would practice and study harder than anyone to accomplish their dream. Lucifer watched with pride as they watched Yuu also become a dreamer like him, yet so unique from him as well.

Lucifer watched with pride as Yuu showed off their most recent invention, the aurora machine. The other angels watched in awe as colors danced across the air.

"Da! Da! Did you see?! It worked!" Yuu shouted excitedly as they leaped into Lucifer's arms.

"I think all of heaven is going to see it the aurora continues to stretch across the sky like that," Lucifer smiles as He and Yuu watch the rainbow light show.

"When we make our own Earth, can I fill its skies with Auroras?" Yuu asked with a hopeful smile.

"It will be our planet, so you can fill it with whatever we want," Lucifer smiles.

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

Soon Yuu's craft got more and more ambitious, but being the craft person they were. Most of these amazing inventions looked unassuming at a glance.

One day they created something special, thou to the naked eye it seemed like a regular ceramic jar. They excitedly hurried down to Lucifer's workroom...

.....

Only to see that Lucifer was not there, or anywhere.

"Da? Da!" Yuu called, but their voice echoed throughout the empty house.

Yuu sighed as they realized that Lucifer once more had run off to earth. Ever since the elder's completion of the blue planet, Lucifer would visit the planet. At first, it was every once in and while, then it turned 3 times a month, and before Yuu knew it, Lucifer would be gone for days on end every week. This went on for years

But when he was home, his mind was always elsewhere. Sadly for Yuu, they were too young to understand that their Father was love-struck. Yuu would see him eager at work in his workshop on the few days he remained at home.

"Da, check out what I made," Yuu said as they held up the ceramic jar.

"Oh, what a beautiful jar. Just put it on the workbench. I'll make sure to check it out later," Lucifer smiled as he tapped his hand on the table.

"What are you making Da?" Yuu asked as they floated a bit to get a better look.

"O-Oh it's umm Nothing!" Lucifer panicked slightly as he hid it from Yuu's sight.

Yuu only caught a glimpse, seeing something red.

"Is it for Earth? I thought the Elders said to leave it alone," Yuu pointed out innocently.

"Y-yeah, but I... Umm. It's. It's gonna be something amazing. They'll see," Lucifer said as he looked down at the red fruit with fondness. "She thinks so," He mumbles softly.

"Huh?" Yuu asked with a confused expression. "Da?"

"Yes, Bud/sweety?" Lucifer said, snapping out of his daydream.

"Can you promise me something?" Yuu asked nervesly.

"Of course, What is it?" Lucifer asked as he kneeled to Yuu's level.

“Promise me… You won’t do anything that will get you in trouble,” Yuu said. “Don’t do something that will put you in timeout.”

"Yuu I'm not going to get in-" "Please Da!" Yuu interrupted.

The Angel could see tears of worry begin well up in Yuu's star-filled eyes. Lucifer smiled slightly, slightly conflicted, but promised Yuu to avoid trouble.

“Alright, but it’s your bedtime isn’t it?” Lucifer smiled as he picked up Yuu.

“Ugh Da! No bedtime," Yuu laughs as they try to wiggle out of Lucifer's hold.

After a bit of a playful struggle, Lucifer managed to get his energetic tot into bed.

"There," Lucifer gasps as he catches his breath. combing his back into place.

"Were's wrinkle?" Yuu asked as they looked for their stuffed toy.

"Oh, we can't forget Wrinkle," Lucifer smiles as he picks up Wrinkle the Duck plushy. He smiles as he watches Yuu get comfy as they snuggle their duck plushy.

Lucifer leans down and gives one last warm hug, as Yuu did return.

"I love you Da," Yuu says sleepily. "No trouble stuff."

"No trouble stuff, and I love you too," Lucifer said with one last squeeze.

With a yawn sleep soon took over Yuu as Lucifer gave a kiss on the forehead. Turned off the lights he quietly slipped out of the room. When Yuu knew that Lucifer was mostly heading out, they pulled the drawstring from Wrinkles back. Activating the music box inside.

(Song: Waiting in the wings reprise. From Tangled)

🎶"Guess by now I oughta know my place. Do your humble duty with a smile on your face," Yuu sang quietly. 🎶"Father knows how much I love him. But he's always doing other things. So I'll keep waiting in the wings."🎶

Yuu slowly slid out of bed and floated over to the window to see Lucifer sneaking out. Most definitely looking to go to Earth once more.

🎶"I crave so much. And yet I kept on waiting. One glance, one touch. And I just kept on waiting,"🎶 Yuu continued as they watched Lucifer open a portal to Earth.

"🎶And when it came, it came with strings. So I kept waiting in the wings,🎶" Yuu sang as a tear ran down their cheek. It's so tough pretending it didn't hurt.

____________________________________________________

Continue? Angst enough yet 😏

Masterlist Here

[starinsaturn]

The dog asked so I really had no choice @jaynciole1q

Part 3 of moony quidditch commentator (if you wanna see the other parts, go on the tag on my blog!)

Remus: welcome, everyone, to our last semi-final, this time we’ve sent someone a special invite to the commentators box, I hope you recognize the voice!

Sirius: Heyy everyone!! Sirius here!

Remus: That’s right, Sirius Black, the player that stood out last game for his great plays, is here to give me a little company.

Remus: Now, while we wait for the game to start, who are you betting on today, Sirius?

Sirius: Well, considering my brother is playing for slytherin, and has been for quite some time, I’m betting on hufflepuff, of course

Remus: Makes total sense to me, now, let’s all turn our attention to the field, where the match is starting in 3, 2, 1!

Sirius: There we go! Midget gets the quaffle before anyone could, how predictable.

Remus: She is indeed one of the fastest players the season has seen, a real gem for the hufflepuffs, however- yep, there it is, not great at dodging defenses, though that move was stupid even for her

Sirius: She once played truth or dare with me on a party

Remus: ??? Okay?

Sirius: We ended up drinking so much we both passed out

Minerva: Mr. Black? I’m sorry?

Sirius: Oops-

Remus: Well, back to the game, erm, the slytherin team has took a hold of the quaffle, Salvory making his way through the defenses and- The first points of the match! By the great Salvory, of course!

Sirius: What’s so great about him? I mean, his ass is nice, but??

Remus: Well, now that you pointed it out-

Minerva: Mr. Lupin and Mr. Black, stop using inappropriate language and focus on the game.

Sirius: But ass isn’t even-

Remus: alright alright, hufflepuff seems to be recovering from the tough start, one of the chasers is- OH and Salvory steals the quaffle once again! He has shown an incredible performance in just a few minutes since the start of the game!

Remus: Now- Sirius? are you okay?

Sirius (who was staring at Salvory’s ass): Yea- Yeah, sorry. He really is hot-

Minerva: SIRIUS.

Sirius: Sorry, sorry

Remus: Stop staring and focus, for Merlin’s sake

Sirius: Don’t be jealous, Moons

Remus: what’s that supposed to mean?

Minerva (so done with their bullshit):

[cobaltbluesu]

you know, I'm really not hyperfixated on outer wilds anymore. At least not as much as I was. Most of the time it was pretty terrible! Little content for great demand, and liking Slate and Feldspar's dynamic was even harder, even though i was really passionate about it, there's always a sort of feeling of loneliness surrounding it. 99% of the time. But there is also that one percent, of all the happiness and excitement and all I managed to achieve. I mean, I made a pretty long comic in some... what? 3 months? I had friends with me and I learned a lot. Thrill Chasers had a simple plot, where i pretty much just wanted to play around with the concepts, but I liked doing it, and i had people who followed me through the journey. And maybe I miss that passion. I'm probably healthier now, detached from it but, there's always a sort of regret in letting go. It was very fast. I always end up letting go without warning, to things I probably shouldn't. But accepting grief is recognizing the love that you felt, and that you still do, even if everything is somehow a different. It is quite funny how the little events in life resonate with one another, as ripples collapsing on a shore of waves. Outer Wilds still talks to me through change and sacrifice. The characters i used for long to not have to deal with reality (not entering in details, but leaving people behind for sure), tell that story through the microcosms of my interpretations of them. Life mirrors art, and art is one's feelings channelized into a labor.

(a panel from thrill chasers, one i believe summarizes it well) This might have been a pointless sunday night ramble, but I suppose exposing my thoughts in a somewhat organized manner might work for something somehow :) its not like anyone will read this anyways, its late.

if you did read it, maybe check the comic out!

[stories-and-chaos]

Shrike: The House Always…Loses? Pt 1

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable. This was supposed to be a one shot about how Husk sold his soul, but I couldn’t help myself.]

[Part 1/2 Word count 3142 CW: alcohol consumption, gambling, mentions of sex.]

——————

The house always…loses?!

The 1970’s. You could tell there was some crazy shit going on in the world of the living. Mostly because the new arrivals in Hell had some particularly messed up forms. Tom Trench, 666 News’ anchor, had ended every broadcast for the past three years in an orgy after reporting on the war on Earth as well as the local conflicts.

“Complete lack of class,” Alastor shook his head as the two of you passed a large television screen in one of Pentagram City’s plazas. It was tuned to Tom’s nightly sign off; the camera off kilter and focused on the desk at a bizarre angle. Evidently the camera operator was part of the group on top of the desk. You could hear Tom saying, “oh fuck yeah I’m gonna invade all your landmasses baby,” followed by “here comes the firebombiiiiiiiiingggguh.”

“Zut alors, he’s turned into such a disgrace.” You scowled. “He might as well just work for that uncouth moth bastard at this point.” As you described Valentino, your voice gained a rough edge and wind started to swirl around you.

Your husband gave your hand a soothing squeeze. “Now now dear, you’ll muss your hair before I even get you on the dance floor if you keep it up. Besides cher, we’ll likely encounter him and the fad chaser at this party. If we all give into our emotions we’re likely to level the whole place.”

You breathed deeply. “And I’d hate to demolish a new establishment before even giving it a chance. Zestial requested a few songs as well, I can’t ruin my voice before granting him that.”

The two of you were attending a gala of Overlords and favored subordinates. One of the newest Overlords was providing the venue at his casino. These sort of get togethers were uncommon as more than one of the Pride Ring’s leaders in the same place often resulted in considerable property damage. So this newcomer was either extremely confident or foolhardy. Typical of a gambler.

At the entrance, you and your husband gave each other a final check; you straightened his bowtie, he smoothed back an errant lock of hair for you. Inside the casino was bustling with activity. It was set up into quadrants, each designated by a card suit. One section had slot machines designed to drain money from the poor saps who fell prey to their lights and false hopes. Deeper in were tables for more sophisticated ways to lose money. An elegant bar and well stocked buffet with dining tables nearby took up another section. The last quadrant had a stage for performers, lounge chairs for audience members and a dance floor. There was currently a band playing something forgettable on stage.

There was activity mostly at the gaming tables and bar. Not many Overlords were interested in the machines, the stakes weren’t high enough to care. And while the band was good, there wasn’t a headliner on stage at the moment. Food, alcohol, and barbed conversation was a bigger draw.

“Alastor, Y/N. Good to see you both.” The voice was sultry and professional all around once. “Ah, Carmilla, always a pleasure seeing you dear. You and your daughters,” you husband replied to the graceful Overlord.

“It’s been too long, Carmilla. Odette, Clara, you both look lovely cheres.” You glanced around the opulent venue. “So was this little fais do do your idea Carmilla?”

The tall woman shrugged elegantly. “In part. The owner of this establishment wanted to garner some attention and I owed him a small favor. I merely arranged the guest list. He took care of the rest.” She gestured to one of the card tables. “He’s entertaining guests with games of chance if you’d like to meet him.”

Alastor looked to you, “Well my dear, shall we meet our newest contemporary or mingle first?”

You spotted a tall figure draped in tacky fuschia leering in your direction from the bar, along with a shorter boxy headed demon boring holes into Alastor’s back. “Looks as if there are some unsavories around the liquor. I’m always interested in making new acquaintances.”

Arm in arm, you and your husband headed to the tables, Carmilla and her girls with you. You looked at them questioningly. “Ostensibly, as the hostess, I should introduce guests to each other.”

A demon about your height was dominating at the blackjack table. He had feline features in addition to a set of wings. Whereas your wings mimicked a natural bird’s coloration, his were more fantastical, vibrantly red and black with bars and dots all over. His hair was elegantly slicked back and his crisp tuxedo completed the air of a high roller.

He spotted Carmilla and after he won the current hand excused himself from the table, saying “duty calls friends.” He tucked his cane under his arm; the body was gold and topped with a sphere containing suit symbols, dice, and chips rotating like an orrery within.

“Husk, I’d like you to meet some of our colleagues.” Carmilla began as he approached. “This is Alastor, the Radio Demon, and his wife Y/N, the Singing Shrike. Alastor, Y/N, this is Husk, proprietor of this establishment and our newest sovereign Overlord.”

Alastor released your hand to shake Husk’s. “A pleasure to meet you my good man, truly a pleasure.” You followed up with your own pleasantries adding, “A lovely venue you have here. If the food and drink are up to the decor we may need to come around again, cher.”

“Pleased to meet you both,” his voice was rough but not unwelcoming. More like someone who had smoked excessively for years. “I don’t do things by halves, so I’m sure the refreshments are up to snuff. You’re both welcome to try the tables as well, if you can buy into the pot.” He stated a number that was high, but not exclusionary. No doubt he wanted to hook his patrons to get more value later. “We’re not betting souls tonight, that’s business and tonight’s for pleasure.” He gave you both a toothy smile before heading back to the cards.

You mingled both with Alastor and on your own. Waiters weaved through pockets of activity, serving drinks and hors d'oeuvres. There wasn’t really a crowd, which was smart considering how many Overlords could barely stand to be under the same roof, much less rubbing elbows.

It was somewhat inevitable though. A couple of hotheads, one you recognized and one you didn’t, started bickering, then yelling, then throwing punches. Any longer and they might have started bringing out some powers. Except they were stopped by a barrage of black playing cards. Off balance, they were crashed to the ground when a pair of giant dice rolled snake eyes onto them. Pinned, the two could only wait as Husk stalked over, the top of his cane glowing red.

“Didn’t your mamas ever teach you dumbasses any manners?” He slammed the butt of his cane down between their heads, sending a ripple of power out. “This is my house, my rules, so I’m going to teach you instead.” His gold pupils shined as he grinned down at them. “You wanna fight? You take it outside or I make you. You wanna settle things in here? We got plenty of ways to settle matters at the tables. Now what’s it gonna be bitches?” The two remained silent and continued to glare at each other. “Outside it is.”

The dice vanished but before the hapless combatants could do more than gasp a wave of poker chips carried them out the door with bone breaking force. Husk followed the wave calmly. From the other side, you could hear thuds, explosions, and screams. It only lasted a moment. Husk returned alone. One of the casino employees brought a new tuxedo jacket; there was dust and a bit of blood on the one he was wearing. He combed his hair back and returned to the game he’d been playing.

You sipped your whiskey, amused. Confidence it was then. “It seems our new friend can hold his own,” Alastor mused as he smoothly came up beside you. He held out a morsel of food for you, speared on a tiny skewer. “These are delightful, cher.” You pulled it off with your teeth. Shrimp in a spiced breading. “Mmm, that is lovely darling, thank you. And yes, he seems quite capable…for now.”

Anything else you would have said was derailed by a tall dark form appearing next to you and your husband. “If the two of thee have formed such an opinion of yon grimalkin, his potential is indeed of note.”

“My lord Zestial!” A light shiver sent your feathers rustling but that was expected around a demon as old and powerful as Zestial. Even Alastor tensed, a bit of strain around his lips and eyes. You curtsied as Alastor gave a slight bow. “You are as perceptive as ever. He has a great deal of power and potential. If his luck continues…”

Zestial chuckled. “Thou speaketh truth Shrike. One must make thine own luck. But ‘tis far too pleasant an occasion for such musings. Will thou grace the assemblage with thy voice tonight Shrike?”

“Of course cher!” As if you’d say no. Not to such a simple request from someone like Zestial. “I don’t suppose you have any requests? Or if there’s anything you’d like to hear darling?” you asked your husband.

Zestial shook his head. “Thy voice is a gift alone, I shall not presume to dictate its flow.”

“Hmm, I’m afraid I can’t help but dictate a little ma cher. Rosie requested a dance, so something she would enjoy?”

“I’d be glad to.” Alastor kissed your hand before seeing you off. You let Carmilla and Husk both know that you were ready to take the stage; you’d arranged everything ahead of time so the band was ready for you. Spotlights highlighted your mark as the lights dimmed slightly in the rest of the casino.

There was still a tremor of nervousness in your core as you took the stage. You were glad of it; if you didn’t feel nervous, you didn’t care about the performance or the audience. So you let it fuel the passion in your voice. You started with something that would grab attention, tap some toes. The big numbers would come later. For now you wanted them to listen to you more than the alcohol roaring in their skulls.

Once you had a gathering and you could feel the upbeat vibe in the room, you went into some dance numbers. The first one was for Alastor and Rosie. Seeing those two dancing together made your heart soar. Some might have expected you to be jealous, another woman dancing with your husband right in front of you. But how could you be jealous of your partner and your friend being so joyful together?

Not to mention that after your deaths, Alastor had gotten taller while you…embarrassingly you were the same height. He could still escort you comfortably but there were some dance moves that you couldn’t do together. Rosie was the perfect height, light on her feet, and a delight to watch in her own right. Why deny her and Alastor the pleasure? Or yourself the pleasure of watching.

You sang a mix of eras, which kept the band on their toes. But you loved music from different times and hearing what you could do with various songs. Alastor and Rosie danced for most of the songs, you could see Carmilla’s daughters find partners, and Zestial with his eyes closed, head bobbing to the music. Not even glimpses of Valentino and Vox could spoil the mood.

As people got tired, you slowed things down. There was more swaying on the dance floor now; there weren’t a lot of overt couples among Overlords (at least not established permanent ones) but there were many that shared intimacy for a time. Some had followers they were particularly close to and the rest of their followers often had a special someone. So there were plenty of pairs swaying to your voice.

Your last song of the night was Alastor’s song. It was your routine to finish with that one; carried over from when you were alive. Any demons that had seen you perform before knew it was your finale and worth paying attention to. The applause after the last note felt like champagne bubbling in your glass: delightful. You had a policy of not taking encores or requests after Alastor’s song, no matter how much anyone offered.

Alastor was there as you descended, hand ready for you. “As ever, you make me glad you married me, cher. Shall we get something to eat, I’m starved.” He knew you were likely to be as well, you tended to be ravenous after a performance.

To your surprise, there was clapping still near you; Husk, pulled away from the gaming tables. “I haven’t heard a performance like that in years. I’ve got a proposition for you, Y/N. Can I have some of your time after your meal?”

You and Alastor exchanged a glance. “Why not join us? As you said, it’s a night for pleasure, so presumably it’s not too serious,” you said as Alastor nestled your hand in his arm.

“If you’re both alright with that, don’t mind if I do.” You took a seat at an empty table while Alastor prepared a plate for you. You didn’t always let him, but you had put a lot into that performance, with so many people to impress. Fortunately, neither he nor Husk took long. Vox was starting to eye you from across the room. You would have hated to get wires and grease all over Husk’s new floor.

Alastor presented your plate as smoothly as any waiter, earning a throaty chuckle from you. There were more of those lovely shrimp, prime rib, salad, a baked potato and a slice of peach pie. You ate like a bird, which meant voraciously. You had to eat close to half your body weight in a day, much like the little bird you resembled. Fortunately you weren’t a pure carnivore and the peach pie was wonderfully nostalgic.

“Well, cher,” you said while stabbing a forkful of greens, “what’s this proposition?”

Husk swallowed, wiped his lips, and leveled a golden stare at you and Alastor. “I’d like to hire you of course,” he replied, expectedly. “I don’t have a headliner here yet and watching you made me realize how much this place needs one.” He sipped his wine. “So what do you say to a couple shows a week? I’ll give top billing to an Overlord, especially with pipes like yours.”

You smirked and raised your glass in admiration. Most assumed that Alastor was the only one with power in your relationship. Despite there being multiple female Overlords, once they found out you were married they acted as if you were little more than your husband’s hanger-on. While that granted you a number of opportunities (and demons chained to you with deals) you appreciated any that had a better grasp on your marital dynamic.

“What kind of compensation are we looking at? I don’t sing for free, cher.” Not even tonight had been free; Carmilla had paid your rate. There was one being in all existence that got to hear you for free.

Husk immediately named a figure. A gambler he might be, but he was a businessman too. He gave a number higher than your usual fee. Not high enough to make him seem desperate, but enough that he respected your talent and to entice from other engagements. “Obviously any tips are yours and you both will get perks of casino employees.” Evidently he noticed your shared enjoyment of the food and drink and wanted to sweeten the deal by including Alastor.

You pretended to mull it over while chewing your prime rib. “Quite the generous offer, ma petite chat. Why not, say three nights a week?” Husk readily agreed verbally. Neither of you moved to shake hands or sign papers; you could never be too careful with Overlords, especially when you were one.

The three of you chatted lightly as you ate. Alastor and you had experience with the old guard while Husk knew a lot of the young bucks. Neither side was about to give away more than the minimum information, but you got the impression he could be a decent ally.

Or pawn.

After the meal Husk asked you for a dance. You readily agreed, looking forward to seeing how he was on his feet. Not to mention a dance partner your size would be a nice change. He wasn’t as good as Alastor (who was?) but he was quite good. He seemed surprised by a couple maneuvers that incorporated your wings, evidently he hadn’t experimented much with his.

He actually got three songs with you before thanking you and heading back to the card tables. You were just feeling warmed up and went to retrieve your husband. Only to be intercepted by none other than Vox.

“Hey there sweetheart. How about you let me show you moves?” He gave you a grin and moved to take your hand in his.

You raked him up and down with your eyes. “Oh Vox, I’ve seen all your moves. They’re not impressive.” You pinched his wandering hand between two of your talons, making sure to draw pinpricks of blood before releasing him. “Allons’y cher, best you find a partner who can slow down for you.” Alastor had arrived at your side and added, “My darling wife makes an excellent point, although I’m not sure there’s anyone who can. Better luck next time ol’ pal!”

Without further ado he swept you onto the dance floor. He gleefully kept you dancing the majority of the night. You changed up partners a couple times, him with Rosie and you with Husk. At the end of the last song of the night, a slow dance, he lifted you into a bridal carry. Your wings cupped around his shoulders as he swayed with you.

Back at home, he and you exchanged notes on the evening while going through your nightly routines. “Cher, are you certain you don’t want me to deal with Vox?” he offered yet again.

“I can handle him darling. It seems I’ll need to be more direct however. More importantly, what do you think of my new employer?”

“Hmm.” His staticky hum filled the room as he climbed under the bedcovers. “An interesting fellow, we’ll need to see how he does. And you being there so often will give us plenty of opportunities,” he chuckled darkly.

You matched his laugh. As you settled next to his lean form you replied, “Agreed. This should be entertaining.”

A/N: part two may take a couple days, I’m finding pre-deal Husk’s voice hard to pin down. I hope you all like my head canon for his stronger abilities. Also, let me know if you’d like to be tagged for future Shrike snippets, she’s just fun to write. 💜🤍🩶🖤

@edgyboi10000 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @deafsignifcantother @whitewolfsoldat @ch3sire-blu3 @bengewatch

[dc-marvel-life]

That Dang Snake

Pairing: Hermione Granger

Summary: Hermione starts to get the attention of an unlikely Slytherin girl

Word Count: ~900

A/N: So I know that I write for DC and Marvel, but some things I write for Harry Potter. Since I haven't been getting any requests, I will put this series out this week. Please ask for a request!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

(Not mine GIF)

Hermione decides to go to the library to get some studying done in a quiet place since the Triwizard tournament is happening, and she doesn’t want to get too far on her studies. She opens her books and gets right to work ignoring the world around her, but that doesn’t last long because of the group of bothersome Slytherins in the corner. It was Draco, Goyle, Crabbe, Pansy, and the one and only, Y/N who were all making so much noise.

Y/N is a fourth-year Slytherin who is the star chaser on the quidditch team and is very intelligent while being the school fuckgirl. Everyone wanted to be her or wanted to be with her. She was funny, kind, smart, arrogant, and a little cocky all wrapped into one. Y/N was well-liked throughout the school but towards one group. The golden trio doesn’t really like Y/N because Y/N is a part of Draco’s gang. Y/N never does anything about Draco’s taunting, she just stares or walks off somewhere else.

The only reason why Y/N hangs out with Draco’s gang is that Y/N is a pure-blood and hung out with Draco growing up. They just have a bond that can’t be broken, even though he can be a dick. Y/N tries to change his ways but it never works. Behind closed doors, Y/N always scolded him for being so mean toward the trio. That is the one thing Y/N hates about being friends with them but she just lets it go to be with her best friend.

They are just making too much noise in the library for Hermione to study right now. Hermione looks around to find Madam Pince to see if she is going to put a stop to it, but she is nowhere to be found. So Hermione decided to take things into her own hands. 

“Can you guys please quiet down? There are some people in the library who actually need to study and get some work done. We can’t do that when you guys are making so much noise” Hermione says confidently, trying not to show that she is a little nervous addressing the group.

“Why don’t you quiet down over there mudblood. We are just over here minding our own business supporting the next top of the class. Are you jealous?” Draco says pointing at Y/N and Hermione is taken aback a little bit. Sure Hermione is at the top of her class right now but close behind her was Y/N. The frustrating part about it for Hermione is that Y/N didn’t need to study as much to get good marks as her. But Hermione wasn’t jealous of Y/N but more admired how she juggle her social and quidditch life on top of her studying. 

Then out of nowhere, Y/N smacks Draco upside the head while not breaking eye contact from the book in front of her. The group starts laughing and Hermione covers her hands over her mouth to not laugh.

“You don’t have to answer that Granger” Y/N says lowering her book to look Hermione in her eyes. When she did that something came over Hermione that she never felt before and she couldn’t explain it. 

“She is right though guys. You guys are making way too much noise in here, go back to the dorms and I will meet you there when I am done studying” Y/N says and the gang all listens to her and go back to the dorm without too much of a fuss. Hermione was shocked that they all listen to Y/N and she actually defended Hermione. After all the years that they have been at school she has never stopped the bullying towards the trio. What has changed Hermione thought to herself. 

“Thank you for getting them to leave by the way,” Hermione says to Y/N. 

“No problem, they were getting on my nerves too. They were just getting too excited for the next quidditch match” Y/N says putting down her book and staring at Hermione.

“Well I bet you are going to do great against Hufflepuff,” Hermione says putting her book down too.

“So you like watching me play,” Y/N says with a smirk and Hermione blushes a little. 

“Well, I don’t come to watch just you. I come to support my house and watch them beat you,” Hermione says with her head held high and Y/N chuckles a little bit to herself. 

“Well, how about you come to the next match and I will make sure to give you a show to keep coming back for more” Y/N says leaning forward on the table and Hermione's face turns red.

“I may come to the match if you answer this question for me,” Hermione says and Y/N gets up and comes over with all her stuff to Hermione’s table.

“What is the question?” Y/N asks while sitting down.

“Why did you stop Malfoy this time from picking on me and not any other time” Hermione ask on the edge of the sit waiting for the answer. 

“I want to start getting on your good side,” Y/N says while winking and grabbing all of her stuff. 

“See you at the match Granger,” Y/N says and walks out of the library leaving a stunned Hermione. 

[egg-but-with-style]

HEADCANONS WITH THE BOYSSSS!!!!

My last post did pretty well, and if people like it, I figured I might as well try my hand at some more!!!!

Gaz

This guy literally has the best skin in the world, it's like looking at something carved from marble, everytime you ask about his skincare routine, he just says genetics.

He detests anything made with cinnamon, his older sister once made him try a pie she made, and by the time he was done eating it, he was literally coughing up cinnamon. Didn't say anything though, couldn't be mean to his sister like that.

HE CANNOT SIT STILL!! Gaz and soap are literally the most energetic people on base. Except Price finds Gaz charming and soap less so...

Also I for some reason think he smells like oranges and mangos???

(edited after I saw a tiktok about climate change) GAZ IS SUPER VOCAL ABOUT CLIMATE CHANGE, all of the boys care to some degree (get it?) but Gaz brings hard facts and evidence everytime he talks about it, Price is now worried for Gaz's mental health

Price

Where to start? Maybe with the fact he has duplicates of his hats he keeps in his office drawer. Ghost went in there one time to give Price a report and saw Price open his Hat Drawer. Ghost had never seen so many hats

If some of y'all didn't know, if you have a low tolerance to cigars and breathe in too much of the smoke, you'll get sick. So, Price keeps a puking trash can just for the people that come into his office. Is he gonna stop smoking to prevent people from losing their lunch? Never.

When he's not on duty he wears the stupid Hawaiian shirts that middle aged dads wear on vacation. Also cargo shorts. Cause they're tactical

Soap

Again, he cannot sit still. He'll wake up in the middle of the night and you'll find him in the armory tinkering with an explosive, and even then he gets up every couple minutes just to pace around

He is very meticulous about his hair. Every morning he wakes up just a little bit earlier then everyone else and hair gels that baby into place. It does not move. It could probably be as effective as a military grade helmet at that point.

THIS MAN DRAWS PORN AND POSTS IT ON TWITTER!!! He uses an alias of course, and a very well hidden drawing tablet when he's on duty. Just ignore the fact that alot of the men he draws look just a tad bit like ghost. Just a little.

Also, while all of the COD men love a woman (or man) with meat on their bones, soap is feral. Chubby chaser all the way. There's also something really hot about a person being around his height and not taking his shit.

Ghost

He has horrible acne under that mask. It's actually awful how much he goes through just to keep it on. He's done skincare, moisturizing, pimple patches, everything, and nothing work. The worst part is, he thinks the mask is so cool it's worth it

This man is an actual dork. (Idea by @ghouljams) this guy definitely makes those little miniatures. The little details he puts into every bit of his work, whether it's wood grain, the look of water, he just does it all with such skill. The plus side is that it keeps his brain at bay, not thinking and more focused on what's in front of him. He also likes DND. Go figure.

I also do like the idea of trans ghost. He understands what it was like before he transitioned and feeling ashamed of his size when he used to be forced into the stereotype of what a woman should look like. So when people fuck with you about your size, he's right behind you like he's gonna kill them.

Authors note: the only thing I'm afraid of as I start writing is 1. The fan fic author curse, and 2. People actually paying attention to me, my anxiety is gonna kill me, lol. Anyway, hope y'all are having a great day!!! Bye!!!

[gladiatorcunt]

- # MERCURY POISONING !!

i wanna be found, passenger in your car (don’t leave)

cw: based on an ask for plus sized afab!reader, ambiguous era, pt. 3 to these posts, (toxic but softer with reader) dom!art x sub!reader x (toxic but softer with reader) switch!patrick, daddy kink, usage of the words fat & chubby etc. as something positive bc they can be! sexualized self esteem excersizes/body positivity/methods of fixing your insecurities lol, dead dove hints & vibes but not too apparent, established poly relationship, implied sensory issues & insecurities relating to being plus sized, porno type dirty talk meant to be that way, character/relationship study vibes, mild fighting/jealousy/possessiveness (playful and light hearted), hinted dacryphilia & overstimulation & orgasm delay/denial but not rlly they’re just playing, patrick’s very hairy bc i said so, anal & spanking & rimming bc they <3 ur fat ass, thigh fucking, chubby chaser vibes, video recordings (that don’t get shared), alcohol mention (fantasy of doing body shots)

wc: 3.2k

1k event. / please consider commissioning me!

You’ve been getting better at getting out of your own head, your confidence has grown a lot over the course of your relationship with your boyfriends. You used to beg them to keep the lights off and they were lucky if you sent 1% of the total amount of nudes that stay locked away in your group chat. As time has gone by, you’re allowing the house to be bathed in a warm glow and you’ll send cute little videos of you shaking your ass while you hump their pillows.

They’re so proud of you, coming out of your shell in all the ways they always knew you could. Plus, it never mattered that they couldn’t see you in all your glory at first (though it drove them insane to have to be content with imagining how your body looks as it jiggles as they hammer into your holes), they just wanted you to be comfortable and happy. That’s never gonna stop being their number one priority.

So it’s a gift when you beckon them closer in your silk bathrobe, your after shower movie nights never fail to derail into a different kind of show. You lean your head back against Art’s shoulder and languidly arch your back, your panties brushing against his bulge in an “accidental” movement. He softly hisses and gives Patrick a look, your eyes follow him in confusion as you watch him run to get something from the bedroom and come back. In his hairy hands rests a pile of post it notes and a black marker from your stash on your desk. Your brow furrows but you’re much more interested in getting Art’s half-hard cock re-acquainted with the cleft of your ass. Your cheeks part to make way for his length that’s quickly chubbing up.

“Fuck, angel, you couldn’t have waited until the movie was over?” Art teases and reclines against the couch, looking every bit as satisfied as a king.

You smile and find comfort in the implication of being split open and speared, impaled by someone who loves you, “Needed you now, and we’ve seen Gladiator before.”

His tip is a millimeter away from catching on your hole but Patrick wrenches you up out of Art’s lap and into his. If Art is the overarching king, Patrick is the spoiled prince that treats you like you’re a piping hot turkey leg. He tears you to bits with his teeth, snarling and licking his lips to chase the taste.

“Please, c’mon, fuckin’ need to taste you so bad. Need you to break my neck when you sit on my face.” He hisses, more rabid dog than human man.

The post it notes in his hand are getting crushed by his too tight grip, Patrick realizes what he’s doing and

Your eyes glint dangerously as you swivel your hips from side to side, causing your thick cheeks to jiggle around Art’s cock. You stare Patrick dead in the eye, so horny that you’re not shy about showing them how much you’re willing to put on a show for them. To become their favorite stripping whore that would rather die mid lap dance then be normal about wanting them. Art groans and clamps a heavy hand onto your right cheek, your flesh bulging out in between his fingers as he gropes you like you’re just some hot piece of ass.

You are, but they appreciate you for more than just your best assets. Even though there are times where your stretch marks and stomach rolls feel like equal parts of the relationship, to name a couple extra members of their weird little harem.

Art laughs, the rich guy kind of laugh that soaks your underwear and drips onto their country club floor, “What’d we say about teasing, hm? Daddy’s already about to burst, he’ll just come crying to me if you don’t give him what he wants.”

Patrick peels off one of the sticky notes and glares weakly, but he doesn’t deny it.

When you’re not in the mood to have sex, or Patrick pushes your buttons too often and too much, you’ll lie on your tummy in your canopy bed and watch with droopy eyes as Art puts the other man through the ringer. Fucking machines, nipple clamps, vibrators in multiple places and Patrick’s lips spreading around a ball gag. You’re there for the aftercare, running your hands through his hair and calling him Daddy while you cockwarm his soft dick.

“We have a present for you too, Angel, a little self esteem exercise.” Art coos, abruptly stopping your movements and sliding his hands around your hips.

You feel the warning bubbling under the surface, and you know you won’t be moving from your position until he explicitly says so. You both call Patrick Daddy, because he needs it, but Art needs to actually put it into practice to feel satisfied with his life. He started out as the friend that “fathered” you and Patrick, and something corny like this is so him that it’s mind bogglingly sexy. He loves a good pussy inspection, letting his “assistant” handle your other hole.

The minutes that passed are littered with neon sticky notes that bear crudely written compliments and affirmations. Ones that Patrick came up with are charmingly lewd, the stuff that oddly endearing porn video comments wish they could be made of.

“Tummy rolls so squishy I squirted and my dick fell off.”

“Chubby pussy #1 crack cocaine hotspot, watch out.”

“Who needs church when you have these jiggly tits?”

“God peaked with this one, No Nut November final boss.”

“Everyone on Earth should die but me and my boyfriends because my boyfriends would miss my fat ass.”

“World’s best thick thighs.”

“My chubby cheeks look so cute when a cock is bulging out of them that it brings people to tears.”

“Looks so pretty being double stuffed, fat bitches just take dick better.” *And a badly drawn shrug emoji.*

Art’s messages are heart warming in their own way, but it’s the underlying assured dominance and smoothness in the written tone that make the experience so sensual. With him, it’s about reading in between the lines more than it is about getting on the dick and doing splits on it right away. The prey is being circled by its hunter until they can’t stop the inevitable from happening. The jaws of a bear trap and the teeth of men are the same things in different bodies.

“Such gorgeous curves, running my hands over them takes all my stress away.”

“Perfect cock sucking lips, so good my boyfriends couldn't be prouder of me if they tried.”

“My beautiful baby, with the cutest chubby tummy that puts everyone else to shame.”

“This ass was made for spanking, it could honestly never be fat enough. Still waiting on a demonstration to see how well they move to music.”

“Stretch marks + cum waist chains = <3”

“At their best when taking bites of cake and getting the frosting smeared all over their face after a cum bath. Can’t tell the difference when they mix together sometimes.”

“To be bred.” And a doodle that resembles those corny car decals with the stick figure parents and their ridiculously large family.

The notes feel well…. uh…. sticky on your skin. Awkward too, but the fiery worship etched onto your boyfriend’s faces makes it all worth it. Patrick drools as he takes in the sight of your tits covered in the brightly colored stationary, and you can tell he really isn’t focusing on the words on them so much as he is the heaving boobs they’re attached too. Art sighs pleasantly and runs a hand over the notes covering your ass, not caring about the sounds of crinkling paper or his nails lightly scratching against it. You almost look like a modern art project, nude and adorned with pure love.

“How about a reward for being such a trooper? Gonna give you that dick you’ve been craving, Angel.” Art says, helping you peel the notes off and tossing them on the floor. (He’ll remember to pick them up and keep them in a box for you, in case you need the reminders, or just to see you squirm because you’re so silly you can’t even take a compliment when you’re not fucked out and cock drunk.)

Patrick does the same on his end, and you get only a few seconds to open your mouth and stammer (being bold isn’t a permanent thing, apparently) before you feel the wet sensation of a tongue darting around your rim. You gasp, trying to turn around to look at Art burying his face between your ass cheeks but Patrick tugs your face back in his direction and catches you in a toe curling sloppy kiss. His specialty, all saliva and his slick tongue seducing yours to slide against it hopelessly searching for the solution to the feeling blooming deep in your guts.

Art pulls back, dragging his tongue along your rim as he glances up at you and Patrick, smiling. “Mmm, look at that, pussy’s saying hello. ‘s inviting me in, it’d be rude to say no.”

You obviously can’t respond while you’re getting tongue fucked, but if you could you think you might cry. It should be what you want, what you always want. But doesn’t your ass deserve the same treatment your cunt gets? Doesn’t it deserve to get fucked through every circle of hell and back around again like your mouth does? You wiggle your hips in front of Art’s face, announcing your disapproval and moaning into Patrick’s mouth.

Wiggling gets your ass smacked, Art is quick to remind you. He soothes the sting of his (to him) gentle love tap with a loving kiss to the center of the thick globe, nipping the area for good measure.

“Don’t get greedy, I can always pay this hole some attention later. Gonna eat this ass like it deserves when you’re too dumb to push me away when it gets too much.” Because that's what you always do, pretty kitty that can’t seem to back up your big mouth with your stamina.

You like it when they keep going after you pass out though, so it’s a win win for you either way. The rocking motions your pudge makes when they speed up their thrusts has the same effect as a rickety rocking chair on you. This time will most likely be no different, you’ve been so stressed with all the responsibilities you have to deal with, you deserve a good all expenses paid trip to pound town more than ever right now. Patrick grunts and bites your bottom lip, cracking his eyes open to gaze longingly at the swell of your ass. He’ll clearly want his own seat at the table for Art’s midnight snack.

“Now keep kissing on Daddy, need your mouth and brain occupied so you don’t tense up, baby.” Art murmurs as he rises up on his knees, kneeling on the couch and reaching forward to spread your plump ass cheeks to catch a sight of the prize hidden below them.

Your pussy’s glistening, your pubic hair’s all wet and stuck to your mound because you’re that soaked. Your face burns, and for once you’re glad that you can’t see how smug Art looks right now. Patrick too, he’d rub your face in it (then mash it into his bulge). You get lost in the sauce, making out with Patrick is not something for the weak, the way his tongue digs into your mouth like he’s trying to eat you from the inside out fucks you up mentally. There’s hushed whispering going on behind you, like Art’s having an engaging conversation with your pussy.

“You don’t mind if I don’t prep you that much, right? You can take it, always gushing and babbling like a river when you see me. ‘s gonna make Daddy jealous.”

He pushes in a couple fingers anyway, crooking them just right and scissoring them into your heat when you seem a little too into your kiss with Patrick. Oh well, you’ll remember that he’s still there soon enough. You make the cutest little squeaks against Patrick’s lips, and he just can’t resist meanly pinching your nipples and squeezing your tits like they’re water balloons. Patrick breaks away to lob a flurry of pecks along your throat, hurriedly stopping every so often to quickly suck the patch of skin he’s hovering over at that moment. You sigh, knuckle deep in perpetual bliss, and arch into his touch. The exposure of more skin calls Patrick like blood to a shark and he’s on it, a few licks away from slobbering on your pulse point.

“Hah- Fuck, Daddy, shit- so good.” You moan and succumb to his whims, the added pressure in your pussy only heighting the climbing pleasure you’re feeling.

Art whistles slowly as he slides his fingers out, depriving you of the show that is him licking them clean fried chicken style, no skin or meat left on the bone in sight. Your poor hole clenches around nothing, pouting like you would if he could see you. But he already does that everytime he closes his eyes, you live wrapped around the nerve endings connected to his brain, a beloved parasite. He’d love nothing more than to do shots off your body, then chase it down with a lime wedge and your pussy juice.

(Yes they’d love you if you were a worm, but maybe they’d prefer you to be a tapeworm that lives inside one of them.)

He grasps his aching hard dick in his hands, shallowly pumping up and down in lazy strokes as he just dead eye stares at your puffy pussy. Your folds are so chubby that your little clit is hidden away, but he knows that he’ll find it in no time at all when the mood strikes him. You and Patrick make the prettiest picture, two messy pets that need to stick together so much that they love to swap spit. Art loves a good three way kiss, but he will always have a special soft spot for watching his babies play. He likes to be the overseeing figure in the room when it’s just about you and Patrick, makes him feel like he’s doing something right, taking care of the three of you. Keeping you all inside this fragile bird’s nest.

“Pat, keep ‘em there, be a good boy and do what you’re best at.” He orders, positioning his long cock at your entrance and easing the bell shaped tip in.

When you exhale into him, Patrick can imagine that it’s his hole being pushed in. The way your back bends, your upper half curling towards the slick-sticky-hot attention being paid to your backside. Your mouth splits apart as you gape and silently cry out for something beyond the capabilities of a mortal man. Art’s dick brushes against the fleshy globes of your ass teasingly as he sinks into your walls. Inch by inch, you’re getting re-acquainted and reuniting dear old friends.

Patrick pets your head and pulls you closer to knock his forehead against yours, “ It’s okay, you were made for this, your body’s been built for this. Made for him, made for me.”

Art’s cock is his cock and vice versa when it comes to you. You’re like a magical fleshlight, Patrick swears he can feel your velvet grip suck in more of his girth, even as he creates a necklace for you out of teeth indents.

You hang your head, courageously allowing yourself to be carved into, “Ohhhhh, thank you, Daddy.”

He starts getting impatient though, as he always does, and shuffles around so he can slide under your body. His stubble scratches against your folds as he lies there, just breathing on your pussy and reaching up to feel where Art is splitting your ass open. You choke on a startled moan when Patrick’s fingers tease the barely there veins on Art’s cock and then rub little circles into your clit. Art groans and lets his self control slip a tad, he grinds his teeth together and plunges the rest of the way into you in one thrust. Patrick fucking chuckles, bouncing the other man’s balls in his hands as he nudges the hump of his nose bridge against your poor throbbing clit.

They like to have competitions over who can make you cum faster when they eat you out. Patrick is more of a messy eater, he doesn’t have much of a technique and relies on how horny the raw scent of pussy gets him. He’ll slobber all over your folds and hollow his cheeks as he sucks the soul out of your clit. He knows you like his nose too so he always makes sure to let you hump it as much as you want. Art’s not quite so vivacious, he prefers to methodically kitten lick your clit until your begging just gets too close to sobbing (his favorite) and he moves down to expertly tongue fuck you into overstimulation.

Patrick has you hurtling over the edge in a not bad five minutes, not his best but not his worst time. Art’s done better, the smug grin he sends down at him saying as much. You’re still reeling from Art dragging out his thrusts in your ass so you’re forced to feel every inch of his long length grapple onto your impossibly tight walls as it slides in and out. Schlick, pop, schlick, pop, schlick, pop. Your boys being who they are don’t let you recover much in between orgasms, they just want their baby to feel so good you wish you’d die. So Art postpones making you cum on his cock and swaps with Patrick, it’s one of those kinds of days where devouring you to the bone very nearly beats pummeling the shit out of your holes.

Art makes you cum so hard on his tongue that you gush like a burst pipe four minutes later, and Patrick speeds up his movements. Your ass feels like it’s torn and two and impaled on a tree trunk but it’s just as well, you’re ruined for anybody else who thinks they’d know how to handle your delectable body. He harshly slaps both of your jiggling ass cheeks like it’s your fault he lost their little match.

He fondly sneers and holds his hand out above your head, beseechingly. Like how someone would ask a dog to spit out whatever they shouldn’t have in their mouth, but they’re too cute to be genuinely mad at.

Art grins and climbs out from under you. He rolls his shoulders back, a winner doing a victory lap.

He spits out a glob of your cum, “fat pussy cum tastes like candy,” and grants him a deep kiss of his own. They hug around you and their mouths drift apart, returning to your shoulders and dancing along them. There’s no purpose or intent to kickstart another round, they just want to worship their baby, tongues cleaning and appraising the marble bones of your statue. Though they know depriving you of raw cock is its own torture, you’ll get your holes filled before the night over. You haven’t even started properly whining and batting your eyelashes yet.

You on the other hand can't wait to see how they’ll react to your anniversary present, the special frosting and sprinkles are tucked away in their own shelf in a cabinet on the floor. You’re too scared to take a risk by adding a candle, but they’ll get the idea anyway.