#Probably going to workshop this one for a bit

[crowhoonter]

The Moon Presence holds a special place in my heart in terms of souls games final bosses because of the sheer what the fuckness of it all. All of the other final bosses have some kind of build up; Dark Souls can't go one minute without mentioning Gwyn, Nashandra and Aldia are major figures in Ds2's lore, the Soul of Cinder, while never directly alluded to is another example of the converging of time and space in 3, Isshin plays a large part in Sekiro's story, and Radagon is a major lore character with Elden Beast being pretty easy to clock as a manifestation of the Greater Will.

Flora, the Moon Presence, though? She comes out of nowhere. There are maybe two lines alluding to her existence at all, those being the workshop umbilical cord and the lecture hall note. The closest you otherwise get is the references to the terrible hunter's dream, which doesn't immediately conjure the idea of her to mind.

Even better we don't even know what she really wants. Oh sure, there are plenty of theories and inferences we can make. Maybe she uses Hunters like hitmen to prevent infant great ones from threatening her, maybe she's keeping a natural order running, maybe she wants to spread the beast plague, maybe she wants to prevent mankind's evolution, maybe she just plain loves violence. In the end though, its all still maybes. Girly walks on in and her mere existence changes so much about the story, yet she refuses to elaborate on anything.

Another very interesting aspect is, and this is probably a somewhat baseless observation, we don't really know what she is. Everywhere else in the game, Great Ones have some line of text associating them with that status. Oedon, Baby Mergo, Kos, Amygdala, The Brain of Mensis, Ebrietas. All of them have text somewhere that directly refers to them with that moniker, but Flora? Nowhere will you find something calling her a great one. Hell, in the Japanese translation, she is called "Moon Demon." It is probably safe and the intended inference that she is a great one, but the thought she might not be does tickle me nonetheless.

Then there is her role in the story. The Great Ones are said to be sympathetic in spirit, and there definitely is a part of her that echoes that sentiment. The way she cradles the hunter is like that of a mother holding a child, yet she seems to be a lot more manipulative than the Great Ones we see in game. They typically cause suffering not by tricking or making deals, but by being unaware of how they affect the world with their actions. Getting picked up by Amygdalae seems like a curious child picking up a lizard, unaware that they are hurting it. Flora though, there does seem to be a certain level of maliciousness beyond accidental. Gehrman's pain and suffering is clear to see, yet she keeps him chained to the dream because of whatever bargain he made (presumably animating the Doll). She does the same to the hunter should you forgo the umbilical cords. She also doesn't seem to want a surrogate like other Great Ones, maybe settling for keeping humans as pets rather than having an actual child.

She really is one of the best Fromsoft final bosses because of the sheer strangeness and the wrench her presence throws into the game's story. We can get a concept of most of Bloodborne's story with a bit of interpretation and reading between the lines, but she will forever be an enigma. For what purpose did Laurence and Gehrman summon her? Why is she seemingly not worshiped unlike other Great Ones? Does she desire a surrogate or are humans pets good enough? We may never know, and that is wonderful.

Stay enigmatic queen, live your freak life

[springsketches]

It’s been a long night, but now we can feel the air, listen to the crickets, and watch the stars since time has stopped looping. Most importantly, though, is that it’s here with you.

Decided to do some fanart for a game. I finally got to playing it and it was really good! This art I drew is not my best but I decided to put it out there still because I think it’s cute. My personal headcannon of what a conversation at the end of the “leave ending” would be. Go check out black tabby games for their games slay the princess and scarlet hollow!

[penkura]

OP Men as Dads Part 3

Note: Part 3, Part 3!! I was asked by someone on AO3 to add Luffy, so I did that! I still view Luffy more as a brother or son, so I still don't expect to write anything romantic for him, but this I can do! I hope you all enjoy!

Franky probably didn’t even think he’d ever get the chance to have kids, not after the train accident you know, but he’s excited for it! You’d have two boys around three to four years apart that are just like Franky in every way, but the older would be a bit more shy than the younger. They’ll both spend a lot of time with Franky in his workshop when they get old enough, they’ve got a knack for shipwright work and it almost brings a tear to Franky’s eye to see them sketching their own ship designs on whatever scraps of paper they can find. Your boys love you too of course! The two will bring their drawings to show you and ask your opinion, you have to tell them everything on your mind or they won’t go back to drawing, mama’s thoughts matter! It becomes family time to go over the sketches your boys made during the day, they want to do you and Franky proud in everything, but nothing they do could ever make you love them less.

~~

Katakuri has planned to have kids for a while, even though he’s already 48, he still wants to have a few and be a father to them. He’ll raise them differently from how he was raised, but still love them dearly and want only the best for them! You’ll both be surprised when you only have one first, a little girl who has Katakuri wrapped around her finger as soon as she’s born and handed to him. She’s so tiny, he’d be content to have just her if she’s all you were blessed with. Fast forward five years and there’s a set of wailing triplets that you also didn’t expect to have, but the three boys are more than you ever could’ve asked for and their big sister loves them just as quickly. She begs to see them as soon as their born, Katakuri brings her by that day to see you and them, and she has to gold all three in a row immediately. After that, a set of twin girls comes along a few years later, your oldest isn’t the only girl anymore and she’s still just as happy to have new siblings at around ten-years-old, your five-year-old set of triplets also excited. Katakuri loves and thanks you so much for the family you’ve made with him, even if you tell him your twin girls are it, you’re done. He's happy with what you have, grateful for your love and children.

~~

Killer is absolutely a great dad, you couldn’t have asked for anyone better to be your partner and father to your children. You have a boy first off, with your eyes and blond hair, he wants to be just like his dad when he grows up! A couple years later comes a little girl, she’s a surprise but a pleasant one at that. You didn’t really expect her to have Killer wrapped around her finger in a heartbeat but the second he saw her it was over, he became wholly devoted to your little girl and making sure she was happy as could be. You’ve come back to your family multiple times seeing Killer either having a tea party with your daughter or playing some make believe game with both your children, he normally plays the damsel in distress for their enjoyment. Your kids can see people act oddly around Killer when they recognize him, but neither of them care to know why, they’re still quite young, and they only care that they’re dad loves and takes care of them alongside you. All that matters to them is that Killer is around to play with them and eventually start teaching them to protect themselves.

~~

Luffy would be the fun dad, no doubt in my mind! Like how Ace would have three daughters, I can see Luffy having three sons! Probably twins at first, then another son a couple years later, the three having the same dynamic that he had with Sabo and Ace when they were kids! They’d all look like Luffy, except your middle child would have your eyes, a small piece that shows yes, you’re the mother to these three rugrats. All three dream of being pirates, its their favorite game to plan, especially so since their dad is King of the Pirates. After all, who better to tell you how the pirate life works than him?? With all of the Straw Hats around, your sons would be protect from the moment they hear you’re pregnant, everyone being the best aunts and uncles around as soon as they’re born. Luffy would be the most protective of course, but he’d still give your sons the freedom to do what they want and to grow and learn how the world works. Being a pirate is about freedom, isn’t it? Your sons will never have to wonder if they’re loved or wanted, everything you and Luffy do is for them.

~~

I honestly see Mihawk with one child, a daughter. She’d be an unexpected blessing that has him around her tiny finger the moment she takes her first breath. He’d never let her, or you of course, out of his sight, unless he absolutely had to go to a Warlord meeting or something like that. When Zoro and Perona show up, they’re both flabbergasted that the Dracule Mihawk has a child, and that she’s a cute baby girl, only a few months old! Perona will try to dress her up in frilly dresses but your daughter will cry, which ends with Mihawk taking her back and demanding Perona stop using his daughter like a dress up doll. The funny thing is, your daughter will be absolutely enthralled with Zoro, she’ll fuss until he holds her, sometimes he’s the only one who can get her down for a nap or to sleep at night. The number of times Mihawk has caught Zoro training with your daughter strapped to his back or the two napping together warms his heart, maybe having the two freeloaders around isn’t so bad.

~~

Sabo never thought too much about having kids. It was a nice idea, but he didn’t have any strong opinions about it. Then of course, you showed up and he started to have dreamy ideas of his own family and children with you as the mother. Your first is a little girl, blonde as her dad and just as rambunctious. She’ll chase down everyone that she can’t to play with her and grab their attention for whatever story she’s made up, Sabo especially listens intently to her, giving her a smile, asking questions, and responding to everything she says positively. After your daughter comes two boys, one after the other just a couple years apart, and both times Sabo can’t believe he’s so lucky to have you and your children. Your sons look more like you, though your youngest has Sabo’s hair just like your daughter. He’s more shy than either of his siblings, but with Sabo he’s more open and talkative. Your first son may be the middle child, but he’s also the one who becomes more interested in the Revolutionary Army’s work. Although Sabo knows that all of them may become interested one day, wanting to join, he hopes that their work can be completed first and your children will be able to love safe, comfortable lives as they grow up.

[messenger-of-babel]

Voicemails

Summary: When complications arise on his mission, all he has is one phone call back to you. (Death Island! Leon x reader)

Word Count: 2.1K

Notes: It really does end here, huh? 🥹 This is the last post for this month. We have officially finished Angstober 2024. Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, reblogged, followed, and sent me things to my inbox. It's going to be weird not writing for you all every day, but you'll still see me around. I'm going to take a small break and write in the background, get through requests and stuff. I'm moving house and graduating at the same time so I might not post a whole lot till I'm settled again, but then you can count on me for more than angst!

General warnings for language use, spoilers for Death Island if you haven't seen it (you should it's quite funny), and a mildly OOC Leon but we can all be saps sometimes. Warping the events of the movie to my own benefit.

Enjoy our last post of this month, sweethearts~

RiRi xx

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You wanna make a call?" Chris grunts, looking down at him. Leon looks up at him, vision blurry and pain radiating through his body. His neck stings from where the microdrone bit him, and he can no longer feel anything from his thighs down, just a numb tingle. He has to consciously remind himself to breathe, in through the nose and out through the mouth.

"You got- you got a way?" he rasps back, eyes scrunching in confusion. Chris nods, the bigger man bucking slightly against the cell wall he's leaning against.

"Left- left pocket." he grits out. "Claire got the signal through before we got bit. It's only strong enough for one call, then Dylan's framework will probably patch it."

Leon sighs, head hitting the rusted bars of Alcatraz. This had been another run of the mill mission, find the missing scientist selling government secrets, pack him up and ship him back to the government to be trialled at court. In the true fashion of his 'run of the mill missions', nothing went according to that plan and veered off into a clusterfuck as usual. The BSAA had been involved chasing their own leads, and he had run into Jill in the sewers running from zombies. the plague that seemed to follow him like a shadow ever since he left Raccoon as a young and very traumatised cop.

He was supposed to get in and out, wrap it up so he could come home to you like he promised. As he sat there writhing, he wondered what the look on your face would be if he wasn't able to make it to the cruise that you had both planned. You had lobbied both him and the DSO for a holiday, and after many angry letters and snatching the phone out of his hand to yell at his supervisor, you had succeeded in getting him two months off. Without hesitation you had booked the both of you on a cruise, shushing him every time he had tried to protest.

If he was being honest, just sleeping at home would have been enough. He could barely remember the last time that he had sat down or stopped for a moment. The days that he was at the office or on a mission blurred together so often that he was beginning to forget what colour you had both decided to paint the kitchen, making him falter when coworkers made small talk with him in the staff room. Which side of the bed you preferred to sleep on, what bills needed to be paid first, whether the spare bedroom was being turned into an office or a workshop or not. It was when his forgetfulness led him to forget what month it was and being blindsided to your own anniversary that he finally snapped out of it.

You had been sitting on the porch steps dressed in your finery, watery eyes looking up at him as he pulled into the driveway, your knees pulled to your chest. He had jumped from the car like you were shot, the realisation of what he had done thrumming hard in his chest. "I'm so sorry" he had murmured into your hair, holding you tight. "I am so so sorry."

You had just sniffled in response and eventually gave him a weak hug back, and he clung to that like a lifeline. He swore that he would never fuck up like that again, and he intended to keep that promise.

So, he had relented to the cruise vacation, telling himself that he would be able to relax and unwind on the seas and out of service of work. They could call another agent for once, he wanted to focus on nothing but the smile you wore as you got to carry out the couple things he felt he had denied you your entire relationship. Getting to use the swim up bar, taking photos together, dressing in matching clothes for the cheesy cruise quiz nights. If that was what you wanted, that is what he was going to give you. Besides, it gave him a chance to relish in you again.

You, who had cancelled the wedding of your dreams to get married at the courthouse with him when he got called away suddenly and you weren't sure if you would see him again. You had been married within hours with the rings he had picked and you in the finest you could find on such short notice. He had thought you looked stunning, even if the lighting was the harsh LED of the courthouse and not candles like you had wanted.

You, who had put up with months of him being gone, not knowing if he was dead or alive. Who had to stay up late tracking the news for crumbs of his whereabouts, only able to make guesses to where he might have been assigned. Every death, every bioterrorist attack overseas carrying the possibility that Leon's body was among those being pulled from the carnage.

You, who he was calling right now with the jacked cell phone from Chris's pocket, dial tone droning on.

Leon had been stung last, used as nothing more than an example to show off the latest weapon in the bioterror market. Yet he was losing feeling fast, much faster than Chris or even Claire struggling in the other cell. It was like his atoms were screaming at him, writhing in him at a molecular level. Breathing felt like it was through a damp cloth, lungs having to work twice as hard to suck oxygen into his lungs. His eyelids were struggling to stay awake and fight off the black curtains that floated in the corners. he could see the way that the others looked at him, with pity and with concern. As soon as he had caught the eye of Chris, saw the flicker of fear cross the usually confident man's face, he knew that he was reacting worse than all of them.

So here he was, heart in his throat as he prepared to tell you the words he hadn't been expecting to say when he left that morning. When the line doesn't pick up he curses, waiting for the tone. He wasn’t going to waste his chance.

"Hi! If I haven't picked up, I can't come to the phone right now. If you leave a message, I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Please wait for the beep, thank you!"

He smiles to himself at the chipper tone of your voice, sounding heaven sent even through the phone. When he hears the tone he takes a deep breath, as big as he can and puts a fake smile on his face. He hopes that it makes his tone come out just a little sweeter for you, even though he knows that you'll be worried regardless.

"Hey, Sweetheart." he starts, voice raspy. "I'm sorry to be calling you like this. I just wanted to call to hear your voice. I-I missed you. I know you didn’t pick up, so you're probably busy. Now don't call me back immediately, I... won’t be able to pick up for a while. I just...damnit I wanted to just hear you." He grits out, head falling against the bars as he loses strength in his neck. He catches eyes with Chris, the older man's eyes misting over as he looks down at him before he turns his head away, the most privacy he can give him in the situation.

"I just wanted to call to let you know that I love you...and I miss you." he begins again. With his eyes closed the words come easier, the image of you flitting into his mind's eye. You look at him in his spectral vision with a smile, encouraging him to go on. He feels his chest ease, like he's actually talking to you, and the both of you are the only ones in the room. "I know you're going to worry. I know this doesn't sound good-" he grits his teeth against another hot flash of pain. "And... it’s not." he finishes. "I want to tell you…that I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't think I'm gonna make it home tonight, baby. I... I might not make it back from this." he tries to chuckle, but the sound is dry, and the effort hurts his chest. "Things got bad here, and it's not looking good. I think- I think it ends here, honey. If I don't make it just...just, please look after yourself."

He takes a shaky breath, and the silence of everyone around him is deafening. The scene is oddly private and uncomfortable for the others in the vicinity, while the usually ever-energetic man known as Leon delivers his verbal will. "I know you won’t want to go, but go on that cruise. You worked hard for it, and you were so excited. I wanted to go swimming with you, fall asleep by the pool and pretend it was the honeymoon I owe you. So, I want you to still go on it. Even if I don't come back...I'll ask the big man above to let me hang around long enough to do it with you, even if you won't be able to see me. I made a promise remember? No more missing big things." he whispers into the phone.

His throat is beginning to hurt, like speaking around a sharp lump every time he formed a word. "And the house is yours, it should go into your name. The car, everything, you'll have it all. I just...I just wish it could have been different, you know?" he says into the receiver, that has begun to waver by his cheek. "But it is what it is, and I guess it finally caught up to me. I'm sorry I was such a shitty husband." he says, a light tremor in his voice. "I wish I had come home to you more, not left the bed cold. I wish I could have made you more dinners and more breakfasts in bed, just to show you how much I loved you. I love you. I love you so much it hurts. I never told it to you enough, or managed to even put into actions just how much you mean to me, but I do. You mean everything, sweetheart." he chokes into the phone, a small smile on his face. "I love you more than anything, so...so don't think anything else, okay? This isn't your fault. It never was. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, you hear me? So you pick yourself up when I'm gone," he gasps out, hand beginning to waver. "You put yourself back in that saddle, and you show the world just how strong you are. Show them the person I fell in love with." he says with a smile, before breaking into a fit of painful coughs.

"Don't stay up, sweetheart. Get to bed early. I miss you, more than you'll ever know." he coughs out into the receiver before his body can't hold him up anymore and he slides down the bars until his cheek is pressing into the concrete, hand falling to his side and phone clattering against the stone. He can hear the tone end, and the automated whoosh sound as the voicemail sends. With bleary eyes he can make out the turned head of Claire, looking down at him with wobbling lips and tear-filled eyes.

"Look after 'em, hey?" he rasps out, pain in his chest stabbing as the black curtains begin to slide across his vision. Claire nods, and he can hear Chris grunt in the background. Leon falls into an unconsciousness shortly after, the smiling image of you the last thing he holds close to him as the blackness swallows him completely. As his body stills, a small smile is frozen on his face, the arrogant half tilted smirk he so loved to give you.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Typing away at your computer, you work till your eyes go square from the computer screen. You wipe a hand over your face as you review the spreadsheet that you're working on, leaning back to take a sip of your coffee. Your music blasts in your headphones, and for a quick break you pull up the checklist you've made for your upcoming holiday.

You're so engrossed in your work that you're unaware as your phone screen glows to life beside you, message popping across your notification bar.

You have (1) new voicemails.

[hells-wasabii]

Hi could you pretty please do velvette x reader who is Carmilla youngest daughter and how her family reacts (plus zestial pls I ship him and Carmilla so I feel like he's a step dad)❤️

A/N: I blacked out and wrote this.... but yeeees LISTEN!! I love Velvette so much, its not even funny and i had a lot of fun with this prompt! I didn't realize how much i wrote for it until it was too late, and by that point, i really couldn't stop. but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! ps i honestly ship them too

Part 1 | Part 2

Character: Velvette

Type: Headcanons + Drabble (Velvette x reader who's Carmilla's youngest daughter, General with a bit of Angst and Fluff sprinkled in)

For Velvette, she actually entered into the relationship not really knowing who your parents were. You never brought it up and she never really asked. It didn't really matter to her, since, ya know, you're the one she's dating, not your mum and dad, or step-dad from what you've mentioned.

Honestly, she should've seen the similarities. They were there for sure, but let's face it, there are so many demons in hell that it was probably just a coincidence, right?

Carmilla also knew you were seeing someone as well, though she really figured that you would bring this special demon around when you were ready.

Oh, they were both wrong. So very wrong.

They found out simultaneously, of course, as cliche as it was. You were on an evening out with Velvette with no clear destination in mind, just simply enjoying the evening and each other's company when the next thing you knew you were face to face with your mother.

It... didn't go too well.

What had once been a peaceful evening nearly dissolved into a turf war all in an instant. If you hadn't been able to separate the two with a promise to talk to both separately later there was no doubt that everything in a three-block radius would be collateral.

Zestial and your sisters would find out soon thereafter, Carmilla of course telling them when they see her come home looking quite distraught.

As stated before, to Velvette, it really didn't matter. though it did sweeten the deal. It would give her plenty more opportunities for her to provoke the arms dealer, something that she already took a great deal of pleasure in.

Zestial would be skeptical of the relationship at the start but eventually comes to accept it fully. His patience won out this time. He's seen more than enough relationships like this go up in flames and he'd never want that for you. He considered you a daughter after all.

As for your sisters, both of them were simply happy that you were happy. They were more worried about how y'alls mom would react. And you can't tell me that they didn't already know, either.

Carmilla on the other hand... To her, family is everything. I mean, she killed an angel for you and your sisters. She'd do anything for her kids, and that includes keeping someone like that upstart from breaking your heart. She wholeheartedly believed that Velvette was only dating you to get one over on her. It really comes as no surprise when she goes all the way to Vee Tower to confront the youngest overlord herself.

"You need to stay away from my daughter."

The fashionista bit out a curse as a needle pricked her finger. Velvette doesn't usually startle easily, but shit, between her being completely focused on finishing and the fact that her workshop had previously been silent save for any sounds that she had been making herself, she thought that even the most stone-cold bitch would've jumped.

What good was the security for if those nitwits couldn't keep unauthorized demons out of her workshop? The influencer swore that if any blood got on the material for this dress she'd personally kill the guards and whoever-

Oh.

Of all the people she expected to see, Carmilla Carmine, the uptight weapons dealer, and apparent mum of her girlfriend, was not one of them. Or actually, scratch that. She was completely expecting this to happen sooner or later.

"Well, it sucks to suck then, wrinkles, I'm not going nowhere." The fashionista bit back, a smirk settling on her lips that quickly fell when the older woman tried to push her point.

"I know what you're trying to do and it-"

"Obviously you don't." All mischief gone from her tone, Velvette set her work to the side, careful not to crumple the fabric. She rose to her feet and began to cross the room to Carmilla, who in turn stood taller, determined not to let this miscreant make a mockery of her, her family, and most importantly her youngest daughter. "I hate to break it to you, but the only way I'll break it off is if SHE wants to."

Velvette paused, her eyes boring into Carmilla's with a conviction and passion that the arms dealer hadn't felt from the influencer before. When the younger woman spoke again, her voice was softer than before, laced with a sincerity that would leave the mother speechless.

"I love her."

Its this singular interaction that leads to a truce between the two (technically five if you include Zestial and the Vee's) Overlords. They would come to some sort of mutual understanding that if both of them were to be in your life, they'd have to play nice. At least in front of you. At Overlord meetings, well, that's a whole different story.

[gyuswhore]

Hits Different (...'cause it's you) [teaser]

«« I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' »»

READ FULL FIC HERE!

PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader

SYNOPSIS: Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.

or;

in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.

GENRES: based off of 'Hits Different' by Taylor Swift, brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut (none in teaser) [MINORS DNI], friends(?) to lovers, university!au.

PLAYLIST: right here!

WORD COUNT: est. 25k

WORD COUNT [teaser]: ~820

RELEASE DATE: est. october 2nd 2023

!PLEASE SEND AN ASK TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST (ageless blogs WILL NOT BE ADDED)!

masterlist

WARNINGS [!is subject to change upon publishing of the full fic!]: slowburn, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, (smut tags in the full fic)

[A/N]: I worked rlly hard on the banner pls look at it ‼️ enjoy hehe also this is probably gonna be way more than 25k but I supposed its better than overshooting

teaser under the cut!

It’s a black sedan that rolls up next to you, slower than what’s considered a normal speed on an empty street. It honks and you nearly halt, owing to the shake that passes through your knees. It honks again, and you can’t help but look to the side to find a window rolled down. 

Mingyu sits on the driver’s seat, leaning over to the empty passenger side to grab your attention. 

“The Uber’s free! So is the driver,” he yells out the window. “Hop in.”

“I’m alright. I kinda wanna walk.” You shift your weight between your feet, the distance adding an awkward feel. 

“Wasn’t asking. It’s the middle of the night, I’m not letting you walk alone.” As he speaks, another car passes from behind him, slowing down. You note the look the other driver is giving you through the window, and it’s enough to convince you to step into Mingyu’s car. 

“I think we’re way past the point of formalities, don’t know why you hesitated.” He chuckles as he motions for you to click on your seatbelt. You fumble with it for a moment, his own fingers coming to the rescue to latch it on. You retract your fingers before they can brush with his own any further. 

Settling into your seat, you choose to look forward as he picks up speed. “Uhm, just wanted to walk, it was nice outside.”

“Take someone with you next time, it’s nearly midnight,” he warns. 

There’s a twinge of annoyance that emerges in the back of your mind for some reason, despite knowing full well that he was right. You just didn’t want to hear it from him.

It’s silent for a bit as the radio plays an uncharacteristically upbeat tune, prompting you to wonder if it was just you who felt the atmosphere pressing in on your chest.

“Did you not bring your car today?” he asks out of the blue, eyes remaining on the road as you glance up at him. One look at his side profile and you’re turning your gaze away.

“No, it’s at the workshop. I came with Nayeon.” 

“Why didn’t you leave with her?”

“I…” You pause. “I told her I was gonna go with Seok.”

“Hm. That didn’t happen.”

“It’s like I said,” you mumble.

He hums again in response, dropping the subject.

“Listen, are you…are you okay?” he starts again and it has you looking back up at him. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You try to hide the bitterness in your tone but it proves difficult.

“I couldn’t help but overhear but I was sitting right there. Hao was talking to Mika about something she’d said to you, about…” He trails off. “I mean, you looked a little upset, I just wanted to ask if you were okay.”

You bit your tongue. Hard. 

He knew you were staring at him, he knew you weren’t over him. He knew you were still standing on the same square confinement from months ago. Never changed. 

“I’m fine,” you reply, snappier than you had intended. 

“Are you sure? I felt like I should’ve said something but Nayeon was right there so I thought…” He sounds unsure and when you see him look at you, with eyes filled with an emotion that makes you nearly gag, you almost lose it. You did not want him to pity you. Nor care for you; especially when it came from a place that nullifies your feelings. You didn’t want him to care for you for the sole reason that you were his best friend’s sister. 

“Mingyu, I think it’s best if you drop it.”

“Of course. But it might help if you wanna, you know, feel your feelings.” 

Fuck no, you weren’t crying in front of him. Not when you're sure he’s noticed the tear stains on your makeup.

“Mingyu, I said drop it. I don’t need your help, I don’t need to feel anything, I need you stop feeling like you’re obligated to care about me because you’re not.” The words come tumbling out before you can stop them, irritation laced in every snap and dent.

He says your name in an attempt to smooth you over. It only lands him in more trouble.

“No, listen, I get it. You’re uncomfortable about everything but you feel like you need to check up on me at the same time, and I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to worry about that. What happened, happened, and it’s my job to pick up the pieces because it’s my fault. You don’t need to meddle.” You’re breathing hard as you finish, finally settling back in your seat. 

He’s already pulling up to your building, heat still penetrating the silence. You unbuckle your seatbelt, mumbling a thanks for the ride. 

“Seok’s staying at Cheol’s tonight,” he calls out as you shuffle out the door. “Remember to lock the door.” 

You stand sheepishly holding the open door as you nod quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the shoot.”

[lissomelace]

THE EUROPA CLIPPER LAUNCHED THIS MORNING, AND I AM SO NOT NORMAL ABOUT IT!!!!!

Space is so fucking awesome. We're headed to one of JUPITER'S MOONS!

Every time a launch happens, it makes the latent space enthusiast in the back of my brain jump up and down. It also derailed all my plans for today. I did have plans.

Instead, someone made one comment about how I could now maybe make mission patches on my embroidery machine, and the space thing crossed over with my current hyperfixation (silm) to produce THIS:

Mission patch for the launch of Gil-Estel! A bit messy, but a good place to start!

Design and linguistics details under the cut, because I put WAY too much thought into it and now must talk SOMEONE's ear off about it. Feel free to ignore this bit:

So, to start: Elvish NASA. I chose to call them Vardildi Elengolmo Vilciryamoyë, or VEV. The Followers of Varda, Astronomers and Astronauts. This could very much be totally wrong. Vardildi is Varda+the suffix used in Yavannildi, the followers of Yavanna. Elengolmo comes from the coined word for astronomer, Elengolmë (star-lore), with the -o suffix from nolmo, wise person. Vilciryamoyë takes the vil- from the root of vilya, meaning air, sky. ciryamo is mariner, and yë is the suffix added to the second word meaning 'and'. (I may be very, VERY wrong on this! If anyone has better ideas, I very much welcome input/guidance/constructive criticism)

So I stuck the tengwar for this on either side of the patch. (None of the tengwar is all that legible, though, I'm working on getting that sorted out) Most NASA mission patches don't actually have NASA on them, but I put it on anyway. Here is the tengwar and the start of a logo I made an attempt at (the tehta is supposed to be a shooting star, but that did NOT come through clearly in the embroidery [because it's tiny]):

(Probably going to try to make an elvish NASA patch before too long, honestly)

Most NASA patches (from research I did with great self-restraint here) have the (last) names of the astronauts. Not sure if they also have the name of the craft or if that's generally somewhere else, but I put both--Eärendil Ardamírë (his fathername and mothername) are the tengwar at the bottom of the patch, and Vingilotë is written on the keel of the ship. None of these are legible because they are small, and my machine has limits. It's a work in progress. Also I apologize for the bad lighting in the photo.

NASA patches sometimes also have a mission motto. That's the tengwar across the top of the patch here-- aiya Eärendil elenion ancalima, Hail Eärendil, brightest of stars (a common cry among elves and Frodo [when facing Shelob]).

(I half wanted to do something a bit more funny--maybe something like 'Now I have become Venus,' or 'Do I get to come down?' but this was a bit easier since it comes pre-translated into Quenya and tengwar, and also I have no faith in my Quenya translations that are any longer than a word)

The horizon is flat because Númenor exists, in the middle there between the shore of Middle-Earth and a teensy bit of Valinor and the Enchanted Isles.

The design for the Silmaril is sort of taken from the heraldic device Tolkien designed for the Silmarilli (though it isn't clear), and it is rayed with the six-pointed star from Eärendil's device. (I stuck the moon phases from the same source around the edges as well)

This was really fun, even if it might be the silliest thing I've ever made! It definitely needs some workshopping--i don't mind the black lines framing some sections from the background fabric, but I might try turning all the tengwar into lines of stitches instead-the satin columns really are illegible.

I now need to restrain myself from doing some sort of NASA/Astronaut Earendil AU, because it now sounds kind of fun (I do not have the background knowledge for this)

Sources:

NASA patches here: https://www.shopnasa.com/collections/patches

Quenya translations here: https://www.elfdict.com/

Tengwar transcriptions here: https://www.tecendil.com/

And if you want info on the Europa Clipper mission, here: https://science.nasa.gov/mission/europa-clipper

Embroidery digitization done with Embrilliance Stitchartist 1, embroidery done with a Brother SE630 machine. Thread is Brothread Cotton and YLI cotton bobbin thread, with a little sulky rayon on the Silmaril. Cloth is a black linen from Fabric Wholesale Direct.

[theduckeminence]

I can’t stop thinking about Eddie Dear y’all.

First off, the probable reason behind what had occurred to him is most likely due to him being scrapped/taken off the script of the show is just both saddening and dreadful on his part. Like he exists within the realm of the Neighborhood, but considering his absence throughout the recent update, aside from him giving the viewers a decoder + clips of him throughout the Home-warming ad compilation, its safe to say that Playfellow Workshop had most likely taken off him of the show, or at the very least, lessening the amount of screen time he receive (in this case being the ads/commercials).

And now onto the actual possible reason why Eddie Dear would be taken off script. Now thinking back to the fact that Eddie & Frank being a couple is canon, it’s also safe to say that because of their connection in the show — even though Playfellow Workshop attempts to have them be distant or lack any sort of significant interaction onscreen — Eddie & Frank’s relationship, or at least Eddie’s love for Frank, could certainly be the reason why the he was taken off script.

After all, if two male characters are shown to be gay for each other in a kids show from the 1970s, chances are Playfellow Workshop would rather scrap the homosexual (derogatory) mailman character than have Welcome Home be taken off the air entirely just because of said mailman character.

Furthermore, what’s more interesting and ironic about Eddie being a prominent character who became intensively aware of his situation is the fact that he first appears to be a character who could be considerably perceived as“insignificant” or “irrelevant.” Of course I don’t actually think he is, but from the way Playfellow Workshop and the Homewarming commercials are framed Eddie, it can be interpreted that Eddie is seen as a rather character of little relevance.

It is partially due to him being taken script, but it’s also the fact that his only thing going on for him is being the mailman for the neighborhood — as well as a bit of a comedic relief. Eddie said himself in the Homewarming video from the secret site — if I’m correct, he feels that nobody appreciates him enough for his work (though correct me if I’m wrong). And that since there’s no one there to ask him to deliver something, or call, or check up on him, he feels as though that — somewhere inside of him — he feels both left out and “irrelevant.”

His one role is to be the neighborhood delivery man, and without that, then what exactly would he be good for?

(this could further be emphasized when Sally told him that they made the deliveries for him to give him a day off — even though no one told him that, and chances are this is perhaps Sally trying to reassure him when in reality, he was just scripted out of Homewarming hence why no one came to talk to him. Getting lil off topic oops��).

Recircling back to the original topic, yada yada yada Eddie just being a mailman and besides that he views himself to be irrelevant so on and so forth.

One thing I would like to mention, relating to Eddie being the probable first of the group to become aware other than Wally, is that I find it surprising that Eddie Dear IS the probable first to become aware like Wally.

To tell y’all the truth, I didn’t think he would play such a significant role in the Narrative (and thus probably doomed by it too). I would have least thought Frank or Julie would have been next to become the more Self Aware.

But Eddie Dear? Our loveable, friendly, and reliable mailman — Eddie Dear? Suddenly depersonalizing right on the spot with a pea plate and becoming aware of both his sentience, the weirdness of his setting overall, and how he could hear Home’s heartbeat? How he knew that the moment he comes to this revelation of self-awareness, he can’t go back? That everything he has ever known is most probably not real and/or all a lie?

It just has me stopping for a second on why and how him, but after thinking about it furthermore, alongside reading analysis posts, it would make sense for him to be next on why he had become Aware.

And I can only assume that from here on out, things are bound to change. And I for one fear these colorful lil puppets — particularly Eddie in this case.

Lets just hope the existential dread doesn’t drive all of them over the edge.

[feralrabidcrow]

I remade the silly TF2 base that lives inside my head in The Sims 4 for the 3rd time

And this time I'm actually happy with it!

Behold, the base that I use for a reference for when I write fanfiction! Photo spam incoming under the cut as well as me yapping.......

Some basic exterior shots, in short this is the main home base that the mercenaries all live in when they aren't currently deployed at a battlefield, ex. 2Fort or Badwater. Those battlefields all have much smaller bases attached or nearby for the mercenaries to temporarily reside in while they're in between trying to kill BLU.

This is the floorplan of the basement, with its primary features being the medbay, the workshop, the laundry room, and two sleeping quarters, which belong to Medic and Heavy.

The hallway outside of the medbay has a waiting area set up. There is an elevator that travels between the medbay and the garage for convenience.

It's worth noting that I am working here within the confines of The Sims 4, and can only do so much to achieve my actual visions of this base. Where the skeleton is, would be a scale of the type you would usually see in a doctor's office (Medic prefers to keep his skeletons in the closet, you see.) And the weird set-up of counters in the middle of the room would be a proper operating table, with his Medigun attached to the ceiling above it, among other strange contraptions.

The medbay has this little side room, that Medic mainly uses for storage. Though it works well as a quarantine room, if the need arises.

Closet Skeleton™!!!

Here we have Engie's workshop, which looks as you would probably expect.

Here we have some utility areas in the basement, consisting of the laundry room, a basement-y maintenance furnace type room, and a washroom.

I would rather keep all the mercenaries' bedrooms together, so I'm gonna skip Heavy and Medic's sleeping quarters for now and head up to the next floor!

This is the main floor of the base, where most of the action happens. It features the garage, meeting room, training gym, showers, a large washroom with multiple toilet stalls, a kitchen and dining area, a small living room, and four sleeping quarters, belonging to Demoman, Soldier, Engineer, and Pyro.

The garage is a bit of a mess, and its most noteworthy feature is the armory, where the mercenaries keep most of their gear during time off. Though clearly not all of them care about the danger of tripping hazards.

There's not much to say about the gym and meeting room, at least in this physical version. Once again, I am held back by the game I built this in. In reality, the meeting room would have a large round table, more centered in the room, and the gym would just generally have more going on for it, but I tried my best to capture what purpose they served.

You'll really have to use your imagination on this one and believe those weird pipes are showers, because I don't own any packs with standalone showers. Anyways, these are the communal showers, where you get to experience the joy of pretending you're in prison and staring at your coworker's butts!

I have a feeling Tumblr won't let me share all the bedrooms in this already ridiculously long post, so I'll probably have to attach them in a reblog. If Tumblr doesn't let me do even that, I guess I'll die? I sure hope it does! I do not know how Tumblr works.

But here's a little peek at some of the sleeping quarters......as well as the floorplan for the top floor even though it's basically all personal quarters. Sniper's, Spy's, and Scout's, to be exact.

[stllmnstr]

sacred monsters [teaser!]

pairing: lee heeseung x f reader

genre: academic rivals to lovers, vampire au, slow burn

teaser word count: 1.7k

teaser warnings: swearing

release date: saturday, august 3, 10 PM EST

soundtrack: still monster / moonstruck / lucifer - enhypen / everybody wants to rule the world - tears for fears / immortal - marina / supermassive black hole - muse / saturn - sleeping at last / everybody’s watching me (uh oh) - the neighbourhood

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A literature student in your third year of university, you’ve been dreaming of having your writing published for as long as you can remember. With a perfect opportunity dangling at your fingertips, the only obstacle that stands in your way comes in the form of a ridiculously tall, stupidly handsome, and unfortunately, very talented writer by the name of Lee Heeseung. Unwilling to let your dream slip out of reach, you commit to being better than the aforementioned pain in your ass at absolutely everything.

But when a string of vampire attacks strikes close to your city for the first time in nearly two hundred years, publishing is suddenly the last thing on your mind. And, as you soon begin to discover, Heeseung may not quite be the person you thought he was.

note: this fic is my BABYYY so I really hope it’s well received and you all have a good time with it. it’s probably no surprise that still monster is one of my absolute favorite enha songs, and this story is essentially (my interpretation of) it in written form. this is going to be a multi-part story, and as of right now, the first part is almost ready to share. for now, enjoy this snippet!

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Crossing a dark line through the word you just penned, you sigh. 

This is the fastest you’ve put a story together in ages. It’s cohesive, and the writing is solid. Your use of metaphor is strong and concise, and the prose feels true to your identity as a writer. 

But something in you withers a bit with every new word you commit to paper. It’s not that you hate your topic. If anything, it’s just that you have no stake in it at all. It doesn't feel innovative or exciting or representative of your creativity. 

No matter how easily the words flow out of you, something about it just feels… flat. One dimensional. 

You need something new. A different angle or an alternative perspective or… Or a fresh set of eyes. 

Struck with a sudden idea, you pull out your phone, plan taking form in your mind. The literature club at your university hosts bimonthly peer review sessions, and you haven’t taken advantage of them nearly as much as you should. They’re a chance for any writer, literature major or otherwise, to come together and workshop any piece of writing of their choice. 

Tapping your finger impatiently on the table, you wait for the page to load. The fall semester did end almost a week ago, so it may be a long shot. You’re not sure if the club typically holds sessions over winter break. But as you pull up the club’s calendar of events, a small smile tugs at your lips. 

Luck seems to be on your side this time. It’s written there in plain, bold font that there will be a session this upcoming Friday evening. That means that if you attend the session and get some solid ideas for revision, you’ll have exactly five days to refine your draft before you present it to Professor Kim. 

The idea of having not only a topic, as the schedule outlined, but an actual complete,  well-written draft to show him next Wednesday, turns your small smile into one that overtakes your features. 

Energized with a new vigor, you reach for your pen again. It doesn’t have to be perfect, you remind yourself, even as a turn of phrase makes you cringe. Even as a piece of punctuation feels out of place. It just needs to be written. You just need to have as much content as you can to share on Friday. 

Besides, you’re sure that a second opinion will help you fine tune this story into something you’re proud to share, something you’re excited to attach your name to.

The afternoon is quick to blur into early evening, and you’re still bent over your favorite corner table. Coffee long drained, you’re full of a new confidence. The thought of proving yourself suddenly doesn’t seem like such an unachievable, out of reach task. 

And when you do finally gather up all of your belongings and make your way back to your apartment for the night, you’re sure that this is the exact boost you needed. 

That same stroke of self-assuredness carries you all the way through a finished first draft. It’s rough and messy and littered with loose ends, but it’s tucked away in the bottom of your tote bag with a smile as you haul it to classroom number 105 in the university liberal arts building Friday evening. 

You pause at the door to the classroom, only for a moment. The inhale you breathe in is deep, full. Nodding to yourself once, you push open the door. 

You haven’t been to one of these workshop sessions since the second semester of your first year, back when you had just switched to a literature major. You remember being wide-eyed and incredibly protective over your work. It was hard to part with it, to let anyone else read over the sentences you were so unsure of. The writing you had little confidence in. 

But your partner had been kind. Another girl in her first year, she had nothing but gentle feedback to give and reassurance that your writing was worth reading. Honestly, it was such an overwhelmingly positive experience that you would have come back for more sessions if you weren’t constantly struggling to find minutes to spare in the day. 

You’re hoping that tonight will be just as rewarding as you enter the classroom, tote bag in tow. But as you survey the space around you, your face falls flat, easy going smile dropping from your lips. 

You weren’t expecting a big crowd, considering that it is winter break and most students are deliberately avoiding campus right now, but you were hoping there’d be more than one other person in attendance. 

Well, you think, deciding to look on the bright side of things. At least you’re not the only person. 

The other attendee is sitting in the far corner of the room, occupying a desk near the front of the classroom. At the sound of your entrance, they turn to face you. 

With that, your small disappointment is quick to snowball into an intense wave of exasperation. Because why is the universe so hellbent on playing games with you?

Your mouth drops open without your permission. “Heeseung?” 

Your sudden outburst fills the room and lingers long into the awkward silence that follows. You hadn’t meant to say anything, but really, what are the god forsaken odds?

If he’s bothered by your reaction to seeing him, Heeseung doesn’t show it. Instead he looks strangely… relieved. It makes absolutely no sense for him to feel any sort of relief at the sight of you, but it’s hard to put a more apt descriptor to the way tension drains from his shoulders, crease between his brows softening as he looks at you, scans you from head to toe. 

A moment of stilted silence passes between the two of you. Another. Your heartbeat feels too loud in your chest.

You exhale, a cross between a scoff and a laugh so humorless it could freeze a flame. Weighing your options, the most tempting by far is to just turn on your heel and exit the way you came. 

Heesung seems to read your intention before you can commit to it. 

Breaking the heaviness in the atmosphere, he acts as if you’ve greeted him like an old friend, not as the source of all your recent headaches. 

“Hi,” he nods, so tentatively you almost want to let your jaw drop open in shock. Almost. 

Because what the fuck does he mean by ‘Hi?’ This has to be some kind of mind game, some way to get in your head and ruin this for you. 

“Right.” Your lips pull into a tight line. You don’t bother to return his greeting. “I’m just gonna go, then.” Hiking up your bag on your shoulder, you turn to do just that. Your first draft will just have to be unpolished. Oh, well. You’re sure Professor Kim will have better feedback for you than Lee Heeseung ever would anyway. 

Once again, Heeseung’s voice cuts across the classroom. “Wait.” There’s a command in his voice. Gentle, but firm. Insistent. So pervasive that you find yourself following without really meaning to. 

Mind made up and dead set on leaving, now you’re just annoyed. What a waste of a Friday evening.

“What?” You turn back to him. You’re not sure if there’s more venom in your voice or your eyes. 

And Heeseung, who commands a classroom with quiet grace, with his steady, unwavering presence, suddenly looks so damn unsure. As if tormenting you is uncharted territory. As if he’s never once left you in the cold with flaming cheeks and a thoroughly shattered ego. 

“I…” he trails off, not quite meeting your furious gaze. “Didn’t you come here to get feedback?”

“Right.” You scoff again. “Because I’m sure you’d love nothing more than to tear my writing to shreds. Forgive me, but I’m not interested in being the butt end of your joke tonight.”

“What?” If you didn’t know any better, the ignorance he feigns would be rather convincing. “That’s not why I’m here.” He shakes his head. “I brought something I want reviewed too.” 

Your brow arches. He can’t be serious. “Even if I did stay,” you counter, “you’re actually the last person I would want to read my work. Feel free to be offended by that, by the way.”

For a solid minute, Heeseung just looks at you. He wears that same damn deer-in-the-headlights expression he had after you brushed him off when he intercepted you in class the other day. He pauses, weighing words on his tongue. “Look, ____.” The sound of your name on his lips strikes a strange chord in you. Until now, you were certain he didn’t even know it. “Did I do something to offend—”

And no. Absolutely not. No way are you rehashing that day in the quad with him now. 

“You know what,” you interrupt. You need to go. Now. You need an out. “I’m actually, like, super tired. I think I’m just gonna head back, and—”

But then it’s his turn to cut off your train of thought. “It’s your piece for Professor Kim, isn’t it?” Heeseung takes your silence as confirmation. “Publishing is a big deal. A second set of eyes will only make your work stronger. And if you hate my feedback, it’s not like you have to use any of it.”

You hate it. You despise the way his reasoning matches your internal monologue nearly word for word. The way your thoughts align exactly. 

You pause, a decision weighing heavy on your mind. He is an excellent writer… There would probably be substance to his feedback. Real, actual, good substance that you could use to make your writing bloom into something truly amazing. He could be the exact spark you need to make your story come to life. 

You purse your lips. “What’s in it for you?”

Heesung smiles, a nearly imperceptible quirk of his lips. He knows he’s won. “Like I said, I brought something I’ve been working on.” There’s an intention you can’t quite read behind his gaze when he adds, “I want to know what you think of it.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

With a grumble, you take reluctant steps towards where he sits on the opposite side of the classroom. And if you slide down into the seat next to him with a little more force than necessary, well, it’s just because you’ve had a long week. No other reason. None at all. 

“Fine,” you relent, reaching to pull your notebook out of your bag. “You get twenty minutes.”

“That’s not nearly long eno—”

“Thirty,” you concede. “And don’t push it.”

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

TO BE CONTINUED...

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note: thanks for checking out this little snippet! I can't wait to share the full first part soon. this one is going to be so much fun I'm buzzing already. I don't have a tag list, but I will most likely update this post and reblog it once I have a confirmed release date. like I said in the note at the beginning, I'm anticipating it will be ready to go by this sunday (august 4 EST) at the latest. woo!

[aayakashii]

Wait, since we were robbed of having an episode about Samhain and seeing them in a festival, let's indulge in headcanonery (?) rn

Inspired by @rottenzombrainz 's slice of life headcanons, I'm giving a huge kiss to your brain rn

What each house would prepare for a school festival – headcanons

Frostheim

Hhhmm, maybe they'd be responsible for the play! Frostheimers are the ones that are super cultured and fancy since they're all rich lol I think they'd have all the resources needed to buy beautiful costumes and props. Maybe they'd do some Shakespeare play like Hamlet, but I wouldn't put it past them to do a musical too, like The Phantom of the Opera, complete with a huge chandelier falling down :0

Vagastrom

They would be the ones responsible for the games!! All of those festival games like card flipping (menko), shooting, throwing, ball scooping, fishing yoyo, garapon (lottery machine) and other puzzles. I think Vagastrom students would have a lot of fun challenging festival-goers even if it's not a physical challenge lol. The whole place would be filled with the sounds of people having fun! Btw, Sho would probably open a little booth with snacks ofc hehe

Jabberwock

A safari exhibition, obviously. What better moment to sell tickets for a tour around the dorm than during a festival? I'm pretty sure they would go all out, though. Maybe the tour could be done at night (if the anomalies agree lol) and everything could be lit by fairylights. The caves would have ambient music, there would be wind chimes everywhere, and bubbles would be flying around to reflect the lights (courtesy of Towa). It'd be like a true fantasy experience for anyone who decided to participate!

Sinostra

They would run a cafe for sure. Romeo would NOT pass up on the opportunity to make some money. Also, it's not like Sinostra would care that much about the festival, so it'd be best to participate by doing something they're already used to. Since a lot of people would flock to Darkwick due to the festival, including kids, they wouldn't be able to sell booze nor anything of the sort, but they'd have great food, including a little bit of Italian cuisine – pizza, carbonara, lasagne, candied fruits, gelato, torrone, espresso... people would leave with the belly full and wallets empty.

Hotarubi

They would do plenty of presentations!! Odori, taiko, koto, shamisen – everything that's related to japanese traditional culture, they'd give a huuuuge show. A lot of people would flock to Hotarubi to watch Subaru give a little snippet of his abilities as a kabuki actor too, and it'd probably be one of the most visited dorms in the whole campus! I think they'd also give a few mini workshops of tea ceremony, ikebana, puppet theatre, and origami.

Obscuary

A huge, beautiful and extremely creepy haunted mansion/labyrinth!! Obscuary is literally the perfect place for a haunted attraction. The Victorian-esque visuals of the dorm would attract a lot of people who want to test their courage, especially with all the rumors about a real werewolf and a real vampire living in that place. The mansion would be eerily silent, just the sound of creaking wood and the whoosh of "ghosts" flying around to have people on their toes, so the jumpscares would be even more efficient.

Mortkranken

They would 1000000% do an interactive medical exhibition. The students could guide the visitors throughout a day in the life of a scientist/doctor! Showing them which instruments they use for surgery (even teaching how to suture wounds); which meds are useful for certain diseases; how to measure blood pressure and auscultate heart and lung sounds and so on and so forth... a little LARPing as a doctor for an afternoon hehe

[anjaelle]

Hii I’m in loveeee with your writing I was wondering if you could write a Dave Lizewski x bimbo reader fic?

Oooh this sounds fun. I had to ruminate on this a bit, but I think I got it.

Pairing: College!Dave Lizewski x Bimbo!Reader

Rating: She's tame

Word Count: 1.3K

--

He was staring again. Every time you turned to look at him, he would quickly avert his eyes to the front of the room. In confusion, you turned to look behind you, only to see the blank wall of the classroom. You looked back at him and found him staring straight ahead like he'd been caught doing something bad.

You pulled your phone out of your bag and opened the front facing camera to check to see if you forgot to properly blend your makeup again. Or maybe you had crumbs on your face.

It didn't look like you had anything on your face. Though you did think you could use a re-up on gloss, and maybe a touch-up on your brows. You accidentally left your makeup bag in your dorm, and you kept losing all of your backup purse makeup, so all you had was a lip balm and school stuff. You supposed that you could use this as an excuse to do a quick drugstore run across the street to pick up another backup makeup kit. But you also felt like you'd be missing out on the sushi buffet in the dining hall if you got there too late. You hadn't had sushi in a long time, it would've been a shame to miss it. Then again you could always order it from that one spot you went to with that one guy. What was his name again? Something with a "F"--

"Hello?" The professor said, addressing you and pulling you out of your thoughts. You raised your brows in surprise, and smiled sweetly.

"Hi!"

Your professor tapped her chin with a beautifully manicured nail and looked you over with a funny look on her face. "Your presentation topic for next week?"

"Oh!" You said, looking down at your notes. "Well, I might talk a little about how hard influencing is and how it's actually harder than a 9-5 job. I'm still deciding. What do you think, professor?"

There were a few whispers in the class as she thought hard on the question. At least that's what you thought she was doing.

"Why don't you workshop that and get back to me tomorrow?" She finally said, turning away from you and moving onto another classmate.

You pouted at yet another presentation subject being shot down and made a note in the margins of your notebook to do just that. You hated going to her office hours, because you felt like you could never really do anything right.

When class let out, you pulled your phone out to text your friends about your change of plans tomorrow, when you felt a gentle touch on your elbow and turned to find Lizewski. Knowing that he was quiet and always a little bit stuttery, you smiled politely and gave him your full attention.

"Hi, how are you?"

"H-Hey," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets, "Uh...I saw that you've been having a bit of a hard time with our media class."

A few people passed by the two of you in the hallway and greeted you but shot a curious look his way.

"It's so bad isn't it?" You frowned, crossing your arms in front of your chest, "I'm literally so great at most Social Media outlets, I don't understand why this is so hard. I mean...it's all the same shit."

He nodded, wide eyed and eager as always, "You're so right."

"And I'm trying really hard, but I just can't get it."

"I can help!" He blurted out. "Only if you want. I mean, you probably don't need my help. But I'd be happy to, if you want."

"You'd help me?" You asked, genuinely touched. "I don't know if I can pay you much, but how much do you want?"

"You don't have to pay me, come on." He dropped his eyes to his sneakers and shifted his weight on his feet, "We've known each other since middle school."

This time your eyes widened in surprise, "We have?"

This time it was his turn to look at you in surprise and confusion, "You went to my Bar Mitzvah."

"I did?" Then you thought about it, "I only remember going to one, and it was this boy named David."

He let out a short laugh and nodded, "Yes, that was me."

"David?! But everyone calls you Lizewski! That's your last name?" He nodded again and you gasped. Your whole world turned upside down. Without thinking you pulled him into a tight hug, "It's so nice to see you again, David! I thought you moved away in high school!"

"No," he said against your shoulder, "I just grew my hair out. And got taller. And you can call me Dave, or David, or Lisewski. Whatever you want."

You pulled away from the hug with a huge grin, and you reached out to readjust his glasses which sat crookedly on his face. Then you looked him over, trying to see the skinny thirteen year old you remembered in the grown man in front of you. You could almost see it. If he cut his hair shorter, and lost about a foot of height, he'd totally look the same. You grasped his shoulders in appreciation.

"Well this is wonderful! I've never had a friend for longer than 3 years before!"

As you walked side by side across campus, you could feel people staring like you had three heads. After the fourth set of eyes on you, you nudged Dave with your elbow.

"Do I have something on my face?" You tilted your head from side to side so he could examine you properly, and he shook his head.

"No, why?"

"People keep staring at me." You frowned, "It's kind of weird."

Dave said nothing at first, but looked around to see the evidence of your suspicion and sighed. "I think it's because you're hanging out with me."

You snorted, "That can't be it. That's so silly."

He kicked a small rock down the footpath and hummed in disagreement, "Is it? I mean...you're you. I'm me. We don't really hang out. I think people are used to seeing you with guys from...Sigma Alpha Epsilon"

You still didn't get it, and you crinkled your nose in disgust at the mention of the name.

"I don't talk to them. They're losers," you shuddered again, "They all have a weird obsession with skulls too. Have you ever seen those skulls with the blue stripe down the middle? They all have them on their trucks. It's so weird."

You watched him raise a single brow as he kicked the rock further down the path, "Are you talking about The Punisher's symbol?"

Before you could ask, he showed you a picture on his phone and you nodded.

"Yeah that's it! What's The Punisher? Is that, like, a band?"

He chuckled, "It's a comic book character and his symbol gets misused a lot. He's a vigilante."

You frowned, thinking of why someone would choose to do something like that. That seemed kind of mean.

"Well can you really see me hanging out with a bunch of guys who like vigilantes?"

For some reason, Dave's step seemed to falter, and he peered at you curiously, "Oh. Are you--do you think vigilantes are bad?"

There was a hint of poorly disguised panic in his voice.

You were confused about why he was confused. The answer was obvious.

"Vigils are a good thing," you said, matter-of-factly. You were surprised that you had to break this down to someone as smart as him. "Sometimes people have vigils for their dead grandmas and their pets, and stuff. Someone who's anti-vigils is obviously not a good person."

Dave gave you a long, strange look and laughed. Like, actually laughed. You didn't understand what was so funny about being pro-vigils. You felt like that wasn't exactly a controversial opinion. Were you on the wrong side of history this whole time? Were vigils actually bad?

"Are they bad for the environment or something? Like, the candles?" You squinted at him. He rushed to ease your worries with an extended hand.

"No! No, it's--vigilantes aren't people who are anti-vigils. They beat up bad people."

Oh.

"What a weird name to have for that," You admitted rolling the word over in your brain. Then you brightened at the memory of something, "Hey there was a guy back home that was like that! Kick-Ass! Do you remember him?"

He said nothing for a moment, but shrugged in response.

"Yeah, kinda."

"All the girls in our grade were obsessed with him," you continued, fishing through your bag for your dorm key. "At first, we thought it was that one weird guy who used to try and sell us coke from the trunk of his car down the street from our school. But one girl said that he saved her dad from getting jumped, and he was apparently, like, young. At least college aged."

"Ha," Dave simply said, "Maybe. I kind of remember people thinking it was someone from our school, though. Someone most people wouldn't even really expect, because it'd be super hard to keep a low profile. Someone who's probably super strong and really cool, even though most people don't know it."

You suddenly giggled, "What if it was that guy Todd Haynes?"

Dave stumbled over his own feet and shot his hand out to steady himself.

"You know who Todd Haynes is?"

"Yeah, I know him. He was in my gym class!"

"He's my best friend, I've known him my whole life. I'm--shocked that you know him." You brightened at the new information.

"I didn't know Todd had friends! You sure are full of surprises today." He stared at you again. For a super long time. You weren't sure what was going on in his brain. You touched your cheek, "Again with the staring. I think you're lying. I definitely have something on my face."

[monzamash]

not in the mood — carlos sainz

carlos sainz x you (femreader) | 1.9k summary – grumpy uncle Carlos is struggling on the extended family holiday and you will do anything to shake him from his bad mood. rating – 18+ (sex, language, google translated spanish) a/n – i’ve decided to collate the sentence starters i got for each driver so that we can get a bit juicer and i can do a little more plot with the smut lol masterlist

You could tell from the moment Carlos stepped off his father’s sailboat that he wasn’t happy. It was a look you’d seen before – typically after a bad race or when the vintage car he’d been working on in his workshop wouldn’t start; infuriated and overtired, two emotions he wasn’t capable of controlling. The vein bulging on his forehead told you to keep your distance while he cooled off, leaving him alone with his own thoughts. Hopefully simmering down.

“Is tio angry at us, tia?” Little Edgar asked, tugging on your long sundress as he watched his uncle storm off towards the resort without a word.

“He’d never be mad at you, cariño…” You replied quietly and brushed the young boys curls from his face, encouraging him to go play with his siblings in the water. But the question had to be asked.

“What happened out there?”

Carlos’ father simply shrugged and threw the cooler filled with bait onto the sand beside his wife, “He gets so worked up over nothing – frustrated with me, frustrated with the little ones. Desagradecida,” He muttered under his breath.

Carlos never got upset over “nothing”. Sure, he was competitive and easily annoyed by small things, pouting to you that something wasn’t right in his mind but storming off a boat after what was supposed to be a nice afternoon with his father and nephews? That wasn’t your Carlos and you stayed silent, not agreeing with Papa on this one.

“Well whatever happened, I’m sure he’ll be over it by dinner.” You sighed, willing your words into reality for the sake of the holiday.

His mother nodded in agreement, knowing that her son was never upset for long. Thankfully she changed the subject and sent her husband on a mission to get her another cocktail from the beach bar. You took the break in conversation to return to your suite where you assumed your husband was brooding alone, probably grumbling to himself in the otherwise silent room.

And you were right. As soon as you clicked the door open, you heard it. The unintelligible Spanish that he always used when he was angry – quietly cursing whoever was coming to ruin his peace and quiet. But you didn’t care if he was annoyed by your presence; you’d been together for long enough to sense what the other needed, especially if something was upsetting them.

He would've done the same for you.

“Don’t throw a pillow at me. I come in peace,” You said, rounding the corner and surrendering your power with your hands up beside your face.

He looked exactly as you expected; propped up against the bed head, thick black rimmed reading glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose and his eyes trained on the book you’d gotten him from the market that morning. At first he ignored you, pretending to be completely immersed in the book he was reading. 

But the quick glance up in your direction was enough to make you smirk. The pout he had on his face when he breezed past you on the beach a few minutes ago was still there, shoulders tensed around his strong neck. The only difference now was that he was shirtless, gloriously tanned and looking painfully beautiful lying on the white linen sheets. You always compared him to a flawlessly chiselled statue, mouth-wateringly perfect in every way.

“You didn’t need to come at all.”

Okay, so maybe not perfect all the time.

“Well I came up because the boys were worried that they’d made you angry but I can’t imagine any scenario where that would be true…”

Carlos’ eyes snapped up to yours, his pout now a frown as he listened to your words. He felt a pang of guilt shoot to his heart as you sat down on the end of the bed, watching his brain tick over and finally realise the effect he had on the people he loved, his little carbon copies. He was Tio Carlos, after all. Their hero.

“Ay, they didn’t think I was mad at them?” He asked more as a question than a statement and you nodded – not to make him feel bad but because it was the truth. The bitter truth from the way his face dropped again, now sadder than before.

“Meirde,” Carlos mumbled under his breath, “I wasn’t angry at them – it was my father. He was shouting at them like he did to me when I was a boy… making them feel stupid so I told him to fuck off and he was not happy about that…” He trailed off, rolling his eyes with a huff.

“I’ll go down and see the boys soon but I just can’t be around him like this,” Carlos added and you understood. He was clearly fired up, fight or flight mode activated with the former winning out.

There weren’t many things that really got under Carlos’ skin but those kids meant more to him than anything. He was protective of them and seeing them being bullied like he was as a young boy triggered him – made him see red and although he was close to his father now, there was a lot of underlying problems that had never been resolved.

Obviously this was one of them but it would be a shame to let all of that pent up anger and aggression go to waste, you thought.

“Fair enough, honey,” You whispered and stood up, smoothing your long sundress out as Carlos went back to his book, “I’ll give you some space but I’m not wearing any underwear right now… Just thought you should know that.”

In true Carlos fashion, he didn’t even flinch at your words, not even a glance nor did he stop you from leaving at first. It wasn’t until your hand was gripping the door handle that you heard him yell out from the bedroom, “And where do you think you’re going then?”

His voice sounded hoarse, deep and tantalisingly sexy as you trotted back to where he was, now sprawled out on the bed and waiting for your return. The book he was seemingly so enthralled in when you left was still open but discarded as you crawled up beside it with a smirk, merely imitating the expression on his face as he watched you.

Eyes forever trained on yours, tempting you up onto his lap that he was patting. Your fingernails dragged along the exposed skin on his thighs that the short shorts weren’t covering, tanned and hairy. Strong and muscular, mind reeling from the things they could do.

Carlos was pouting when you leaned in closer to his face, telepathically sending signals for you to kiss him. It had been a rough afternoon but having you to take his mind of it well and truly made up for it. You smiled and pressed your lips to his, arms snaking around his neck as you settled onto his lap, letting the weight of the day melt into his touch.

His hands crept around your waist and naturally dropped lower to your backside that he was always mesmerised by. There was hardly ever a moment when you were alone that he wasn’t either touching it or gawking at it and you loved it. The attention, the physically touch – he had you wrapped around his finger, and him yours.

“Let your frustration out on me, baby.”

Your permission ignited something deep inside Carlos. A little spark in his eyes catching on as you pulled back and captured his stare, aroused by the darkness and the steeliness as he tugged you into his chest. He was groaning under his breath as you moved above him, stirring that feeling he couldn’t ignore and that you could feel between your thighs.

“Te quiero con todo mi corazón,” Carlos whispered as you reached up and removed the reading glasses from his beautiful face, peppering kisses all over his cheeks.

“I think you look so sexy in these but I don’t want to break them,” You confessed and he simply smirked as he lifted your hips up and pulled his shorts down, freeing himself from the tight material.

“I know you do, darling.”

You rolled your eyes and licked your palm before grasping his growing stiffness in your hand, delicately rolling your wrist to get him to where you needed him. It never took long and with all of the kissing and teasing you’d done to him all morning; Carlos was pretty much hard on sight. But you loved how big he felt in your hand and the way his eyebrows scrunched together when you gripped him a little too tight, a hiss slipping from his lips every time.

“Actually you look sexier like this,” You smiled and kissed him again as he started bunching up your dress, moaning as you continued to pleasure him, tease him. But he got you back, sliding his fingers through your slick and pushing two fingers into you without warning, jerking you forward over his shoulder.

“Oh my god!” You shouted, both hands now gripping the back of his head as he fucked you, knuckle deep and revelling in the fact that you were now on the receiving end of his pleasure.

“Shh, I can hear people in the other room, cariño,” Carlos whispered facetiously, voice taunting and secretly wanting everyone to know that he was the reason for your screams.

“Well don’t shove your fingers inside of me without warning and I would be quiet,” You snapped back before he hit that sweet spot, causing you to return to crook of his neck with a whimpering moan.

“Asshole.”

Carlos snickered at you waving your metaphorical white flag. He loved you taking control and that’s what you did once you sunk down on him, taking his thick cock all the way until you bottomed out. A low, raspy moan slipped from your throat when you felt him twitch inside you, hips snapping up in an attempt to get you to move.

“Don’t rush me, baby. You feel so fucking big… God, why do you feel so big?”

“Because I am huge,” Carlos shamelessly retorted, head titled back and watching squirming on top of him. You rolled your eyes and straightened your back; now feeling like you had a point to prove.

As you sat up, you pressed your hands to his chest, hips rolling achingly slow and taking full advantage of your position.

“Okay, with that kind of arrogance and the way you’ve been moping around all day, you’ve lost your touching rights, my love.”

You slapped his hands off your thighs and watched his eyes glaze over with lust, “Hands off.”

Carlos pouted and reached out with his grabby hands, “Ay, no, please. I have to touch you.”

There was a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips as he pleaded with you, and you could see right through his façade. Even with his unbelievably thick cock filling you to the brim, brushing against that spot deep inside you that would usually have you unravelling in a matter of seconds, you didn’t crack. Not even a little.

“Hands. Off.”

And with those stern words, Carlos simply laid back on the pillows and tucked his hands behind his head, watching as you gave him a show. He couldn’t have loved you any more than he did in that moment – for making him feel like his entire body was on fire and for remedying his bad mood.

You really were a miracle worker. And you were all his.

a//n – ayyyy, the first of the monzamash special! i'm so glad people sent in requests for carlos – he's so fun to write. the next one will either be charles or daniel so let me know if you have preference! and thank you all again for 700 followers x masterlist | askbox

[were-wolverine]

batfam as new girl quotes

steph: where are you, tim? this place is fancy and i don’t know which fork to kill myself with.

***

dick (16 y/o): i’ll take you through the whole thing. i’ll be like your guide.

jason (13 y/o): like gandalf through middle-earth?

dick: ok, first of all, let’s take the Lord of the Rings references and put them in a deep, dark cave where no one will ever find them.

jason: except smeagol. he lives in a cave.

***

tim: you text me “happy monday.” what am i supposed to do with that?

damian: oh, i don’t know. maybe have a happy monday?

(he’s trying to be nice)

***

jason: would you consider us adorable?

dick: no! we’re adult men.

dick: we’re cute.

***

cass: you always see the worst in people.

damian: yeah, because people are the worst!

***

steph: i mean, bruce, we love you, but…

steph: but you’re not a man of the people.

bruce: of course i’m not a man of the people. i’m above the people.

***

cass: we’re a family. families talk about things.

jason: no, families ignore things until they go away.

***

new parent bruce: dick, do you want to go to sleep?

9 y/o dick: no way.

bruce: if you do, i’ll write you a check for $6,000.

***

duke: what are you doing in here?

tim: eating cookies and avoiding confrontation.

(in the bathroom at a gala)

***

steph: jason, come on, that’s like the president and the vice president not being best friends.

jason: they’re not best friends.

steph: come on. everybody knows they’re best friends.

***

dick: i’m in love!

damian: titus, clear my schedule. i need a word with our brother.

***

steph: duke, those shoes are not brown! they’re green!

duke: you guys are idiots! they’re as brown as money.

cass: what color is kermit the frog?

duke: brown! he’s a brown frog.

tim: duke! you’re color blind, dude.

***

bruce: darn it! has anyone seen my croquet cleats?

***

tim: hey guys, do you think i’m a good person?

steph: you’re a terrible person. it’s hilarious.

***

dick: i’m very quick on my… uh…

jason: did you just forget the word ‘feet’?

dick: feet, yeah.

(he’s been awake for 72 hours without sleep)

***

duke: i can’t believe i didn’t notice this before but damian, you are legitimately crazy.

damian: i think we’re all a little bit crazy, don’t you, thomas?

duke: no, i mean, you’re like aging ballerina, child chess prodigy, professional magician crazy.

damian: it’s my grandfather’s fault.

duke: yeah okay fair enough

***

tim: if i was doing something stupid, you definitely would be involved.

dick: yeah, you’re damn right i would be. and i would probably be there to make it even stupider.

***

bruce: has anyone seen my good pea coat?

***

steph: i brake for birds. i rock a lot of polka dots. i have touched glitter in the last 24 hours!

steph: and that doesn’t mean i’m not smart and tough and strong.

***

jason: are you insane, bruce? we’re not ready.

jason: that’s like taking a musical from rehearsals straight to broadway. you got to workshop it first.

(pushing the theatre kid jason agenda)

***

dick: you realize i say goodnight to you every night and you never say goodnight back?

dick: what is the problem, jason? do you not want me to have a good night?

jason: oh my god you’re so overdramatic

***

tim: please don’t mistake my measured blank tone for calmness, as i am filled with waters of rage.

(he’s at a gala)

***

bruce: damn it! i can’t find my driving moccasins anywhere!

***

duke: what a dumb idea.

duke: do it.

(he is an enabler)

[ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey]

Conclusions

Ginny's run out of her good parchment and has been reduced to using something she dug out of the bottom of her trunk, hating the way her quill scratches over the rough surface. As though it isn’t punishment enough to be writing about History of Magic, she’s got to do it on this piece of rubbish. 

“Bloody, buggering fu–” she swears as the point of her quill pierces a hole straight through her conclusion. Apt, probably - it had been flimsy at best. There’s a metaphor here, somewhere.

“Revision going well, then?”

The wry voice startles her so much that she nearly upends her bottle of ink all over her weak – in more ways than one – essay. “Fuck, Harry, I’d no idea you were there.”

She blinks up at him in surprise and finds him smirking, standing at the table she’s claimed in a corner of the library, looking adorably entertained by her plight. His bookbag is slung carelessly over his shoulder, his hair mussed, his stupid face made more handsome by the teasing lilt of his smile. Her heart flutters a bit, because that’s just what it always does with him. She ignores it valiantly, and hates him for it, a little. 

“Sorry,” he says, though he sounds more amused than anything. “Mind if I sit?”

“Course,” she says, gesturing to the seat opposite. “Can’t guarantee there won’t be more swearing, though.” 

He eyes her holey essay as he sits, jerking his head questioningly toward the parchment. “What’re you working on?”

“Something for Binns.”

“Ah, I’d be swearing, too.”

“Fucking hell, eh?”

They share a smile, and Ginny reckons she’d be better off writing an essay about that - the way she knows exactly when he’ll find something funny; the way jokes fall a bit flat when the punchline isn’t his eyes seeking her out, green and piercing and flickering with amusement. She’d fill the parchment with ease. 

It’s easy to write about something you can’t stop reading into. 

Just like she’s madly reading into the way he’s shown up here - no Ron, no Hermione - and sought her out, like it’s normal, like they’ve been doing this for years even though they haven’t. It feels like they have, though. That’s the worst part of it.

“What’re you doing here?” she asks, like he might just come right out and say it - to see you.

He doesn’t. She pretends that she can’t be disappointed by what she expects. 

“Transfiguration,” he says darkly. 

“Where’re Ron and Hermione, then?” she prods, picking at it like a scab, like a masochist. I wanted to get you alone, she urges him to say. I’ve been trying to all week and I haven’t even been subtle about it.

“Dunno,” he shrugs. Scabs bleed when you pick them, incidentally. “I can survive an evening without them, you know.”

“Can you? I don’t reckon your track record is all that spectacular on that front, if I’m honest.”

“Hey, I haven’t died even once.”

“Right,” she jokes. “Angling for a new nickname? ‘The Boy Who Hasn’t Died, Even Once’?”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “Rolls right off the tongue, that.”

“I’ll owl Rita for you. We can workshop something”

They smile.

She wants to shake him until he admits to it, confesses, like this thing brewing between them is a crime. She wants to lay all the evidence out in front of him, the aspiring Auror, and see what he makes of it. He can’t quip his way around the smiles and the banter and the looks he gives her. See, she’ll say, don’t you see?

He’s got shit vision. 

They sit together for far longer than she’d planned to stay. At some point he adjusts in his seat, and his foot winds up touching hers, and he doesn’t even have the decency to move it. She fancies she can feel his warmth through their trainers, but no - it must be her own traitorous heart, frantically pumping warm blood to her foot like it’s the only part of her body that needs it, like the parts of her that aren’t touching him have ceased to matter because maybe they have. 

Maybe she’s been distilled to the edge of her foot.

They talk about strategies for the Quidditch final, and OWLs, and argue playfully about which of her mum’s mince pies is the best. Ginny’s always fancied herself good at impressions, but she surprises even herself with her impression of easy nonchalance. All the while it’s building - each look, each smile, each easy joke they set each other up for feels like a firework she’s adding to the heap in her chest, ready to explode with the slightest spark. 

You’ve got me alone, she tells him. Do something about it.

It’s nearly curfew. They start gathering their things, and still he hasn’t done anything. If he were any other boy, Ginny would cut through the bullshit herself, but something holds her back. She can’t fully articulate, unravel, why, but she needs him to be the one to admit it. She needs him to decide she’s worth the risk. He’s meant to be brave, isn’t he?

As she’s packing it away, Ginny remembers her abandoned essay, still punctured pathetically. She sighs, holds it up for Harry’s evaluation. “Think Binns’ll even notice?”

“Give it here,” he says, and she hands it over. He pulls his wand from his robes and waves it wordlessly, the gaping tear sewing itself together so it might never have been there. Ginny doesn’t know why she hadn’t thought to do that herself. 

“Thanks. Only now, I’ve actually got to write a damn conclusion.”

He laughs and holds it back out to her. “You’re on your own.”

“Aren’t you meant to have a hero complex?” she quips, pushing the parchment back toward him. “Some useful saving-people thing? Have a go.”

To her immense surprise, he shoots her a wry smirk that sends a tingle through her stomach. “Alright.” He pulls out the quill he’d only just packed away, scrawls something at the bottom of her parchment, shielding it from view.  

She’s gone utterly daft. Her heart is hammering in her chest, beating a tattoo on her ribcage; she wonders if her fingers are trembling as they reach across to take her essay back, fully convinced she’ll find the words Go out with me scribbled there. 

In conclusion, he’d written, this essay is over.

She snorts, mostly at herself. She’s officially deluded. Cracked. What is wrong with her?

“Wow. Thanks for that,” she says drily. “How would Binns have known otherwise?”

He grins. “Anytime.”

“Totally unrelated, but do you offer refunds? Perhaps a voucher for another Harry Potter rescue at a later date?”

“Non-refundable. Sorry.”

“I’m going to be honest,” she lies. “I expected a better rescue than that.”

He shrugs. “You expect too much from The Boy Who Hasn’t Died, Even Once.”

She can’t help herself; she laughs. His eyes seek hers out - green, so green, twinkling with amusement and something that looks so fond. She’s going to set fire to the heap of fireworks in her chest, just to get it over with. She’ll explode in color, driven to madness by the boy who hadn’t died even once but who’d killed her, slowly, with smiles. 

In conclusion, she thinks, I’m utterly fucked.

[bucksangel]

favorite fics rec list

hello! i wanted to share some of my favorite fics to make sure everyone else is aware of these amazing fics and even more amazing writers. go send them some love!

enjoy :)

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Stucky

share your blessings // @kinanabinks (mafia!stucky)

summary: Bucky's always known that you're his  biggest blessing. A God-sent angel from above. Who's he to keep you all to himself? warnings: Mob!Bucky x Reader established relationship, Mob!Steve x Reader, smut (buck gets cucked, daddy kink, degradation kink, oral sex, penetrative sex, voyeurism, overstimulation, creampie, objectification, fingering, spitting, blowjob, face fucking), slight angst, aftercare and fluff.

three's company by @sunshinebuckybarnes (avenger!stucky)

word count: 2.6k summary: you've been sleeping with them both in secret but once that secret’s out they present you an offer you can't refuse. warnings: pet names (sweetheart, doll), smut; fingering, double penetration. Fluff and feels.

Ari Levinson

always keep my heart safe // @witchywithwhiskey (ceo!ari)

word count: 10.7k summary: you're ari levinson's "maid" and you're harboring a crush on your employer, which leads you to act foolish when you're alone with him on a long flight on his private plane. warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established relationship, established consent/safe words, employer/employee relationship with feelings, pre-discussed arrangement, free use, size kink (very brief moment of pain from it), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, daddy kink, praise kink, light degradation, tiny bit of overstimulation, check-ins, discussion of relationship & feelings, romantic confessions, possessiveness, dirty talk, pet names (sugar), aftercare

halloween princess // @evansbby (sugardaddy!ari)

word count: 3.8k summary: Your sugar daddy decides to dress you up in a costume of his choice for Halloween. warnings: sugar daddy Ari, age gap, smutt, daddy!kink, ab riding, dirty talk.

praising you // @angrythingstarlight (lumberjack!ari)

summary: Ari loves to praise you, anytime, anywhere. warnings: praise kink, smut

Bucky Barnes

body workshop // @1800jjbarnes (mafia!bucky)

word count: 1.6k summary: Overhearing for so-called friends make fun of your "failures" in life made your loving mobboss boyfriend very unhappy. No one makes his Doll cry. warnings: Shitty Friends. Mention about putting on weight (which is normal). Mention of a standard. Dark thoughts. Reader hates herself. (I love you all so much.) James wants to lowkey kill your friends. Pet names. Swearing. Crying. Kisses. Hickeys. Little bit of man handling. Fingering.

new tricks by @sebstanwhore (virgin!bucky)

word count: 9.5k summary: After your brother has to cancel movie night, you’re ready to resign yourself to an uneventful evening back at your dorm, alone and dejected. But what you didn’t count on, is your brother’s best friend and roommate, bursting through the door and asking you to stay; to spend the night with him, instead What unfolds, however, while you spend time with the star football player, both shocks and astounds you — one confession in particular.  Bucky Barnes, the Prince Charming of campus, the man you have been crushing on for an eternity, is a virgin. warnings: first kisses, fluff, smut, grinding, making out, big brother!steve, college!bucky, shy bby bucky, mutual pining, swearing, pet names, huge ton of reassurances, lots of praise, big hints of subby bucky

for the first time // @jobean12-blog (shy!bucky)

word count: 1k summary: It's been a long time for Bucky and his feelings for you are overwhelming in every way so when it comes to your first time...he's so soft. warnings: cursing, softness, fluff, fingering, oral sex (m rec), smut

are you bored yet? // @pellucid-constellations (frat!bucky)

word count: 8k summary: God, you hated Bucky. Bucky probably hated you, too. Maybe. It was hard to tell when he was drunk and calling you pretty at a party you shouldn't have gone to. warnings: Alcohol, annoyance to lovers, a bit of angst, a scary man in a parking lot, frat!bucky

buttoned up // @disturbedbydesign (professor!bucky)

word count: 5.8K summary: Even though you were one of the top students in his class, Professor Barnes had always been cold to you. You had tolerated his indifference all semester, but when his end-of-term dinner party invites went out and you weren't on the list, you decided it was the last straw—it was time to confront him about it and find out what the hell his problem was. The answer would surprise you. warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up, kids). 18+ only, no minors.

Steve Rogers

ever since i met you // @witchywithwhiskey (bestfriend!steve)

word count: 5k summary: your best friend takes you out for a valentine's day friend date that ends with the two of you cuddling in a hotel room—and discovering you've both been hiding feelings since the day you met. warnings: smut with lots of fluff, dry humping, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (sunshine, baby), valentine's day smut/fluff, friends to lovers, love confessions

Dark

Steve Rogers

paved with good intentions // @navybrat817 (avenger!steve)

word count: 2.8k summary: When Steve Rogers sees you get close to his best friend, he takes matters into his own hands. If he can’t be your hero, he’ll be your villain. warnings: Rape/Non-Con Elements (do NOT read if this upsets you!), obsession, jealousy, hurt/comfort, Steve is not a good man in this fic.

Angst

Stucky

one more meeting // @myfictionaldreams (mafia!stucky)

word count: 5.6k summary: For all of the years that you had known Steve and Bucky, you had never seen them lose control of their anger. All of the murder and violence always being calculated, calm, and dangerous. But today, that all changed and for the first time in years, you were truly scared of the boys you loved. warnings: 18+ readers only, smut, murder, violence, blood, john walker has a temper, polyamory, dom/sub, threesome, subspace, pet names, sub reader, size difference, reader gets injured, daddy kink, sir kink, size kink, aftercare, praise kink, fluff, angst, vaginal sex, nipple play, cum play, clit stimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie, dirty talk

she's not mad // @subwaysurf45 (college!bucky)

Words: 9k Summary: Bucky Barnes was a known people pleaser, it was second nature to him. After meeting you and getting close you both try to navigate his eternal stressed state, working together you try your best to tone down his obsessive ways.  Warnings: Bucky has mommy issues, mentions of oral sex, nudity, angst, fluff, college!bucky, slow burn

Fluff

Bucky Barnes

wallpaper // @cosmicbucky (bestfriend!bucky)

word count: 1k summary: bucky finds out how to change the wallpaper on your phone, and takes every opportunity he can to do so. until one day he doesn't have the heart to warnings: fluff, nonspecific friends to lovers

mafia!bucky drabble // @angrythingstarlight (mafia!bucky bumblebee series)

summary: Bucky loves spending time with his daughter.