#Why is he sleep deprived doe poor boi ;-;

[localicecreambiter]

beware the yappening

if you saw me post this, no you didnt

I hate tumblr mobile

IF IT WASNT CLEAR BY THE SPIKE IN FOUR SWORDS CONTENT ITS BEEN ON MY MIND LATELY!!! so obviously that means the obligatory redesigns >:) I tried not to play too far into the stereotypes (not that there's anything wrong in indulging in those!!... i did throw in headcanons tho, like heightened and dulled senses... ill explain dw)

we'll start with shadow since I kinda forgot to draw him initially, lol. sorry buddy 😥 I gave him a shard of the mirror as a means of being able to exist. he can still float around and slip into the shadows and all, but he's not as powerful as he was when the mirror was full. (his ego definitely still is big though) he's not fond of chainmail despite the rest of the four and Link wearing it. his tunic mirrors what links would've looked like. any triforce motifs appearing upside-down and little swirl on his belt backward since he's from the Dark World and all that jazz. silly stuff. I kept it relatively simple since I doubt Link is very over the top, and Shadow has no sense of bodily autonomy at that point (he would so have an over the top outfit, let's be real) Obviously he gets along well with Vio, but he and Blue banter quite a bit. Sure, both mistakenly get offended sometimes but it's all in good fun! His hair looks a little more rounded here, but it's usually more flowey and sticks up every which way. unruly hair for an unruly boy. shadow loves quality time!!! what could be better than hanging out with those you love and burning down towns??? okay, void the town burning.

Red's design is also fairly simple: longer skirt, exposed chainmail, sleeved tunic, and a rounded collar. he has a rounder shape language (not that I paid too much attention to it, obviously) his hat curls up where the elemental stone is at. no one understands how it does this. Red thinks it's some knick knack he stored in there. UNNATURALLT WARM. like. concerningly warm. He's their magic user, preferring to use his magic rod over his sword (honestly, probably could wipe the floor with the other three if given a good magic item, but don't tell them that)(and yes im calling it a magic rod cuz it shoots fire and ice) Poor Red got the short end of the stick with poor hearing but great taste buds. He's a foodie at heart and it's obvious why. His hair is a lot fluffier and rounder than the other three, matching his soft and bubbly personality. Not a pant wearer. Obviously he has the magic rod and slingshot, but i also gave him the Bombos medallion since its an item in the FSA game. Green suggested they split the loot evenly. No. He's not allowed to use it. Yes, he's accidentally blown up a lot of things with it. That's why hes not allowed to use it. definitely a physical touch kinda love language guy. you know exactly why. impulsive spender. has quite a few burn scars from learning to use the fire rod. most of his tunics are a little singed, but he keeps some neat

ah, Green, the resident insomniac. usually that's Vio's role, but you cannot tell me this guy didn't get Link's terrible sleeping habits. he constatly looks sleep deprived in some compacity, but he's getting better! sure, it usually means someone has to hold him down until he sleeps but hey! better than nothing! his tunic matches most Links with the sleeved overtunic and collared undershirt. he uses he sword quite often, having the most finesse with the weapon out of the group. occasionally he'll bust out the boomerang. sort of the unofficial leader, keeping the group on track, but is always open to suggestions from the rest of the Colors. I gave him the Pegasus boots, since I'd assume they all don't get the loot they would've picked up along the way. His element is wind, so it felt the most fitting he had them. his hair is a little messy, and sure he sometimes has a stick in there, but he does his best to keep it combed. Despite his drowsiness, he's got sharp eyes (the best in the group, as a matter-of-fact!) Unfortunately, his sense of smell is lacking (but clearly he has it a lot better than Red does. I mean, seriously, id take hawkeyes over tasteaholic any day). Hes a little shit when playing Ispy; typically picking really tiny things and reveling in the fact no one can guess it. his elemental stone is attatched to his belt even though its a place it can get easily lost. somehow he has yet to lose it. the back problems arise from Link, mostly, though his isnt as bad as Vio's (maybe because hes not slouched over a desk half the time, but i digress) Typically level headed and focused, keeping the group moral high with Red (aka, keeping Vio and Blue's moral high because they tend to be more pessimistic) (well, Vio considers himself a realist and Blue is Blue)

since i dont consider Shadow that much of an idiot, Vio probably had to actually stab Green to make it look convincing. While the scar isn't big, there's once on his lower abdomen from the Four Sword. They didn't have any health potions, so they had to go back down the mountain to get him help. Green holds no resentment, knowing Vio did what had to be done to gain the enemies trust. the cheek scar is from the pyramid cuz there aint no way he got out of that unscathed fighting against Valenzuela. more of a words of affirmation guy, but enjoys quality time like the rest of them.

Vio is obviously their whittier member. honestly, if he were to be described in DnD stats, he'd have a high intelligence and a medium wisdom because man is this man stupid sometimes. he's not as outwardly arrogant as Blue, at least, not as loud with it. his clothes are usually wrinkled, being more focused on bookwork than much else (this pisses Blue off to no end, being the neat freak he is) despite this, his room is the definition of organized chaos. he knows where everything is, and if you move something, he will not be happy. also not a pant wearer, his tunic has a longer skirt than the others and his sleeves are a lot looser. his hair tends to droop into his eyes and somehow this has yet to get in the way. he prefers to pick off enemies from afar as the team's bowsman. amazing aim and a very steady hand. while he doesn't have as big of a magic reserve as Red, he can still use elemental arrows (probably in the same way as in WindWaker) strangely bad at math (simply because i find it amusing) and is pissed that Blue is good at is (again, because i find it amusing. it freaks Blue out) Vio is more of an acts of service kind of guy, but like everyone else enjoys quality time. especially when it's quiet quality time. impuslive spender, mostly on books. everyone else insists he uses the library, but he argues its different when you own the book. impecible hearing, cannot taste shit. it makes eating rations easier, but sadly cannot enjoy the nicer foods in life, so he tends to choose things based on texture. Got the brunt of the back pain, but makes it worse with how he sits and for how long he does. honestly has a weird complex where he thinks of himself as superior to the rest in a way, yet also manages to struggle to fit in and hates himself for it. not explicitly touch avoident, but hes not one to seek out physical affection often and tends to be one of the first to push Red off (other than Blue) his stone is pined to his bow holster since he tends to always have it on him, he wont lose it that way. the fact that the rest have theirs in such irresponsible spots upsets him. refuses to sleep until he's done something he considers productive.

last but not least: Blue! my favorite guy!! god what a prick, i hate him. his design is a lot more knightly with more chainmail and a brutish sort of look. he's intimidating alright, even at his 4'11 stature. look. hylians are short. his hair is spikey like his personality and his hat is more angular (mostly cuz he folds it everynight. theres permanent crease marks in it) ends up with the most scaring thanks to his irrisponsible sparing and little use of healing potions (yet despite this, he's the group medic) the nick in his ear was from some random enemy camp that he just ignored for a while. I never said he was a responsible medic when it came to himself. hes mean, sure, but hes trying. just a little blunt. okay, very blunt. very blunt and very angry. hear me out: mom friend. if that mom was divorced and had anger issues. he knows the others are fully capible of handling themselves, cuz if he survives, why shouldn't they? despite that, he still worries. I know that it says his left eye is blind, but he can still see some color, its just reaaal blurry. does anyone know that? only red. will he tell anyone else? not unless he has to. does he run into shit when hes not paying attention. sometimes, yeah. to top it off, he - like red - got the short stick with shit vision but a heightened sense of smell. he can smell a monster camp from up to a mile away. impressive, right? dont tell him that. this boy has a lot of injury issues, being as reckless as he is. the knee injury was from a particularly nasty moblin (possibly the same as where the eye scar came from. who knows? he wont tell) and got worse as it got ignored. look, when you're the medic, you gotta make sure everyone else is okay before you. at least, thats how Blue sees it. not to even mention the nerve damage from being frozen for god knows how long. I don't know about you, but (assuming it was a Wizrobe) being magically frozen has its side effects. so what hes a walking icepack (exaggerating, but he's cold enough outwardly that you can feel it) and so what his hair grows in a few shades lighter than everyone elses? they don't gotta know why or when or how or even that it happens. the hair dye is stashed under his bed and he will die if anyone finds out. it reeeally fucked with his magic, seeing as hes associated with the water element.. do green and vio know about any of this? nope. red was sworn (read: threatened) to silence. probably the most physically fit when split, and makes sure to take good care of his body. he likes to push himself, hence the ankle weights. always has to be doing something productive. hes their financial guy, somehow having the least impuslive spending habits. will typically only spend on necessary things. gets mad at the others for buying egregiously expensive recreational shit. (that umbrella shadow has? yeah. expensive as hell. he was not happy) the most touch avoident of the bunch. unexpectedly, blue is a gift giving guy. he gets embarassed about it when you question it, or even when hes giving it to you, but yeah. he likes giving things to people and then will throw insults at their face. not in a mean way. in a "im embarassed and you suck so shut up" way. quality time is something he enjoys as well, liking to spar with his brothers often. can easily master a lot of melee weapons, its impressive, but cannot for the life of him make anything else work. his stone was made into an earring, and despite vio's complaints, he usually knows when its missing.

[eepywriters]

.✦°. • Birthday boy ( ´∀｀)

warnings: none, just pure fluff and simp Quackity

a/n: HI GUYS, I had to speedrun this so if it feels rushed I’m so sorry 😿 but I put heart into it so I hope y’all enjoy!!

Ah the bed, what a glorious invention. It’s comfy, fluffy, warm and, most importantly, it’s where, usually, one of the best activities it’s conducted: sleeping.

Now, Alex loves working, he does! It’s written all over his projects. The passion that drives every piece of work he makes couldn’t be as strong as it is without determination and etiquette. After all, he is indeed THE Alex Quackity, creator of the first multilingual server with live translations.

But sometimes, just sometimes, he doesn’t mind sleeping the day away. His pounding head and aching eyes beg for rest on the daily, so it’s nice to actually give his body and his mind a moment to shut down once in a while.

A touch on his naked arm made him stir in his sleep. He groans. He wasn’t ready to let go of his sweet slumber just yet.

“Alex, baby, wake up, I’ve got something for you”.

An half-conscious grumble leaves him, which was more of acknowledgement of hearing your voice speak to him rather than an answer to whatever you were babbling about. Cause listen, as sleep deprived as he could be, nothing could separate him from his bed when he was actually set on resting.

“Baby c’mon, we can nap later”.

The soft feeling of pillowy lips pressing against his temple finally rouses him from his sleep. He sighs, a throaty, sleepy sigh, while stretching his back lightly.

“There you are baby”

The gears on Alex’s head are slowly turning as his systems finally makes sense of the world surrounding him. And while most of his mind is concentrated on your delicate hand stroking oh so lovingly his cheek, he can’t help but notice the delicious smell that was floating around the air.

He opens his eyes, now wanting to find out what exactly was making his taste buds tingle in curiosity.

Oh what a grave mistake that was.

A streak of sunlight pierces his eyes instantly, making him close them back on instinct with a weak cry.

“Noo turn off the lights” he drawls sleepily, shielding his poor, aching eyes with his arms. His mouth was still pasty from his sleep and he, quite frankly, didn’t understand what was the deal about waking him up so soon.

And then you laugh, and on a normal occasion he would’ve bite back, cause you were obviously laughing at his idiotic behavior, but he was sooo sleepy and your laugh sounded sooo pretty. (When did he go to sleep again? 2 Am?).

Slowly blinking the sleep out of his system, Alex was met with a rather endearing sight: there you stood, a cute, big grin brightening your face whilst you looked down at him with an amused gaze. He could tell you where sleepy yourself, if not by your tired eyes, by the dark circle that were adorning your features. After all, what did anyone expect from the partner of Quackity? Two sleep deprived people are better than one. (He’s not gonna delve into what seeing you standing there with only an old t-shirt of his was doing to his body).

“Good morning birthday boy”.

Oh, now he knows why you rudely (not really) woke him up.

“Hey” he mutters, scratching his crusty, tired eyes, hoping that the sleepy haze that was still clouding his mind will go away.

“Damn that’s all I get? Not even a pet name? We live in a society…” you frowned.

“Shut up” he snorts, looking back at you, just for his eyes to stop at a little red box you were holding. It is very pretty: a big yellow ribbon was tying together the bright red walls of the box, and hey, was that a duck painted on the side of it?

Before his fogged brain can even come up with a question, you are already in action.

“Stand still, your only job is to look pretty now”

He quirks a brow. He’s not sure of what you have going on today, but he’s in for it, especially since he can still smell the sweetness of the treat you’re hiding inside that box.

He sits up and his head lolls backwards onto the cupboard, giving him the perfect angle to watch you fiddling around.

“It’s rude to stare you know?”

“Mhh is it? Even when there’s something so beautiful to look at?” he replies, jokingly wiggling his eyebrows up and down at you.

“You’re such a flatter” you sigh, yet he can see you hiding your smile in your arm.

You soon bring out a tray to him, which had a plate, a fork, an empty glass and a cute, pink piece of paper on top of it. You had obviously written on the paper - he could recognize your handwriting instantly in any context given - and really, it wasn’t even debatable since the paper read “Happy bday amor <3”.

He brought the paper up to his lips, leaving a soft peck on it before putting it on his nightstand. Was he dramatic with it? Yes, but he swears that when it comes to you he just can’t help himself but cherish everything you give him.

“Here you go, I hope you like it”.

You finally open the little box, reveling an adorable, tiny chocolate cake. It was simple: it was round, not more than 10 centimeters wide, and it feature a raspberry and two blueberries on top.

He licks his lips and dives into it immediately, not waiting for approval nor giving it any second thought. He chews on the cake with a satisfied hum, letting the sweet, but strong taste of chocolate invade his mouth. Again, it was really simple, but the fact that it came from you made it ten times more tasteful.

“Where did you buy this? It’s great” he says, searching for the label of the bakery on the tiny box you handed to him. Maybe later he could’ve bought some sweets for his guests there. He strangely couldn’t find it.

“Actually… I made it”.

Saying his mouth was agape would be an understatement, his jaw was on the floor.

“WHAT” he screams with his mouth still full. He did have the decency to swallow before screaming out again: “THERE’S NO WAY”.

He swears he could’ve died right there. Your shy smile and the light blush that paints your cheek enough to send his brain into override.

“Yeah, woke up early to make it today. I’m surprised you didn’t wake up sooner, I made quite the mess” you cackle to yourself, probably remembering all the ruckus you made whilst scratching your neck in embarrassment.

“Im surprised you liked it that much honestly” you trail off, insecurity dripping from your hushed tone.

Was it really though? Alex would eat anything you gave him if it followed a “I made it for you”. Yes, he was that whipped, and he isn’t ashamed of it. It always has been you, trough life and death, he knew from the moment he uttered the first “I love you” that you were his ride or die.

“You did amazing (Name)” he smiles, craning his neck just enough for you to share a sweet, short kiss.

“I can tell you worked hard for it, I’m proud of you” he whispers at mere centimeters from your face, like it’s something just for you to hear and hold dear onto. He leaves a peck on the corner of your mouth before sitting back again.

“I’m very glad you liked it” you say softly, giving him one of those genuine smiles he’d die for “BUT we got much more to do! It’s time to open your gifts!”.

You clap your hands excitedly, already scurrying off to put the tray away.

“What if I want to unwrap another type of gift” he taunts, moving his arms behind his head while wearing a sly grin. He kinda felt bad about making you do all the work, but he figures that maybe, just this once, he can let himself be babied a little.

You shake your head, looking at him with faux disappointment. Your hands found your hips as you scold him: “Cmon you horny bastard, we are going”.

“You called me a WHAT” he says in his typical high pitched voice, following after you. He catches up to you in an instant and wraps his arms around your frame, keeping you still.

“Say that again, i dare you” he threatens light heartedly.

“Nu uh”.

“Okay, you asked for it” he whispers in your ear, impossibly close.

The world went quiet. Your eyes widened.

You knew what was coming.

“No wait, we can talk ab-“

You weren’t fast enough to stop him. You signed your fate.

His hands move swiftly all around your body, wiggling his fingers on those he knew to be your weak spots. He laughs at you, laughs at your misery. Your body twitches uncontrollably and your lungs beg for air.

“S-STop FUGAHAH, oh my GOd- HAHAhH ALEX” you cry out, trashing around in his hold while he brought hell on earth on your poor body. He continues to laugh at your weak attempt to wiggle out of his grip, determined to make you regret calling him names.

“Nu uh”

Needless to say, you where among the few guests on Alex’s birthday stream, and you were also the one who had clean all of it up. Nonetheless, the afternoon was filled with laughter, a bit of alcohol, and carefree dances.

　　*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

extra:

Well cleaning up that mess was sure a challenge. You had to do 3 Tiktok browsing pauses before actually getting it done (to be honest, you did spend more time on your phone than cleaning, but you’re sure nobody will snitch on you).

Right as you put down the broom, you spot Alex coming towards you, the shit eating grin he was wearing giving away his intentions.

“Can I get my final gift now?” he speaks, using a gravelly tone that catches you off guard. It was hard to take him seriously when he still had some confettis stuck to his clothes, even though you’d be lying if you said you minded the offer.

“You moron” you laugh, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Is that a yes?” He whispers, leaving a soft peck on the crook of your neck.

“Fuck yes”.

[ada7201]

Hii how are you doing? I hope you are doing good! Anyway can you write bllk boys with a reader thats similar to Layla from genshin impact? So basically Layla is very sleep deprived (just like me fr) but very nice to everyone. She basically made herself a second personality when going to sleep so that she can get work done (poor girl doesn't get much shut eye) but she's very talented in the work that she does sleeping or not! How do you think the bllk boys feel about her?

*scurries away in embarrassment like a maniac*

no need to be embarrassed ( ´ ▽ ` ) here you go, i tried as much as i could. i am not familiar with genshin characters, but i searched her up and she’s such a cutie! hope you’re able to get some sleep 🤍

bllk boys x sleepy reader, like layla!

𖣘 part 1 𖣘 part 2

“where’s y/n?” Isagi would ask the rest of team Z, an eyebrow raised. “i haven’t seen her since the match?” he’d add.

“i think i saw her in the eating area.” Kunigami would shrug.

“i’ll go look for her!” Bachira smiles, eagerly rushing out of the room and making his way towards the cafeteria. Isagi sighs, before following after Bachira.

“y/nnnnn!” Bachira would call out, hands cupped on his cheeks in order to make his voice louder. “where are youuuuu〜?”

Isagi’s eyes wandered around the room, before they landed on your sleeping form. wait - what?

“shhh! Bachira, she’s sleeping!” he’d whisper - shout to his friend, a finger on his lip in a shushing motion.

Bachira nodded, ‘zipping’ his mouth before looking over to you.

you were asleep…?

“what’s she doing sleeping?” Chigiri would ask from behind the two.

they both shrugged, before Bachira decided to bounce over to you, giggling.

your eyes fluttered open, a soft brown escaping your lips. did you fall asleep again?

“Bachira?” you mumble, sleepily rubbing at your eyes as you looked up at the excited male in front of you.

the boys all walked over to you, Chigiri brushing some hair away from your eyes.

“what were you doing sleeping at a table? it’s not even late yet.” he’d say, patting your head gently.

Isagi nodded in agreement, eyebrows furrowing together in thought.

“oh, i just went to bed a little late.” you respond, a smile on your face.

a ‘little late’ is an understatement.

“y/n—?” Isagi groaned, sitting up in his bed sleepily.

“oh, hi Isagi.” you smile, looking over to him. “go back to sleep, don’t mind me!” you chuckle, before looking away from him and back to the paper you were folding.

it was late at night, around 2:39 am when you had thought up the idea of making paper origami.

you really wanted to fold a swan!

“what are you doing awake at this time?” he asks, a slight frown on his lips as he squinted his eyes; it was so dark, and he could barley make out your face.

“nothing, nothing. go back to sleep. we have a match tomorrow” you smile.

“okay…” he yawns, laying back down in bed.

except, he didn’t lay down in his bed - he had payed down right on raichi—!

“THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!” he screeched, waking up almost everyone in the room in the process as he shoved Isagi off of him.

you winced at the sound of his voice.

“WHY’D YOU — y/n?” Raichi stopped his tantrum, looking over to the silhouette of your figure.

“why are you awake?” Kunigami would ask, rubbing at his eyes. “sleeeepp…” he groans, falling back into his bed and rolling over.

“go back to sleep, everyone.” you smile softly at the boys.

they were all too tired to argue, so the team just tucked themselves in and managed to fall back asleep.

in the morning, you were still sat at the table. thankfully, your eyes were shut and your breathing was soft. you were finally asleep.

Isagi had noticed, that sometimes your eyes would get heavy whenever the team seemed to have a chat for too long - or whenever you have some free time, you’re dozing off. at first, he was confused as to why.

but when he finally decided to gain the courage to ask you why you’re so sleepy, you brushed it off and said you just go to sleep little later than others.

a little later?

even Bachira noticed, you were a little sleepy some days. he couldn’t blame you, sleeping is a great thing!

but the thing is, you don’t sleep.

the team tried to get you to sleep, and you listened for the first two days - then got back into your old schedule.

it’s not like they can boss you around, though.

but Ego can.

“fucking sleep, y/n.” his dark voice loomed over you in the form of a screen, piercing eyes staring down at your figure as you were sat down near your locker, playing around with whatever had caught your interest.

“oh,” you sigh, disappointed.

“it’s 4:28 in the morning. what is wrong with you?” he adds, holding a finger up to push his glasses further up his nose bridge. “you have issues.” he adds, before the screen disappeared.

you huff, before standing up and trudging over to your bed. you really didn’t want to sleep, you had so much left to do - like, stare at the ceiling for another hour.

when team Z woke up, they immediately started to change and get ready for the next match.

they ate, slipped their shoes on, and stopped in their tracks as soon as they heard the muffled sound of loud snoring.

they all creeped back into the room, only to find you face down into the pillow fast asleep.

goodnight (๑❛ᴗ❛๑)

[baneonono]

watch house for the first time with me

season two episodes 11-20. were just gonna have to ignore spelling errors and stuff because I take these notes while it is very late at night. also if I’m wildly mischaracterizing the characters, it’s because I like it better and yes I am afraid that is how I watch tv shows. canon is whatever I want it to be, especially when I’m sleep deprived

11

“We need to talk about this” Wilson says like it’s his marriage that house is breaking up. I do love how invested Wilson is in Houses love life 

Wilson going to Stacy to yell at her is so iconic. I love my loyal man. Big puppy dog energy. 

“I can hear you caring” I love house. 

Wilson this episode: yelling at all parties involved in an affair, overly investing in other people’s romance, preparing drugs for patients to take, spilling everyone’s beans, trying to help everyone

I’m obsessed with how well house, Wilson, and stacy know each other. Mostly with how well house knows Stacy, Cuddy and Wilson. And then how well Wilson knows house

“You love me more” shut up shut up shut up house shut your face please 

Ughhhhhhh why are we doing this house and Stacy 

House did not just tell Cameron that he loves her. The way she flinched. 

The ultimatum house just gave Stacy-

So many things are happening that I want to scream about. Okay house with the kid is adorable in the exact opposite way Chase is adorable with kids. Because house is that person that kids love despite how unlikable he is and Chase kids love because of how likable he is and I just love them both. Also Stacy going to Cuddy the second she has house problems is amazing. I need more of them just chatting. When all of yall are beyond your in love with house phase can I get footage of you girls just gossiping. And can Wilson be there even though he’s the currently in love with house one and he will absolutely tell house everything said in the sacred gossip room. 

OH MY GOD MARK AND HOUSE SHOW DOWN IM SO EXCITED 

Mark going to the ex boyfriend is wild and he went so hard for it. House really just left him, a dude in a wheelchair, on the stairs.

House just can’t condemn mark to the same thing he went through, you heard it first

SAD ROOF BOY RETURNS BUT THIS TIME WILSON GOES TO FIND HIM. I KEEP WINNING

Wilson is really the shows method of moving everyone along emotionally. He’s not the oncology dude, he’s just hospital staff emotional support who happens to do oncology 

I do think that house was right that Stacy shouldn’t leave mark for house. He’s not gonna change, he doesn’t want to, I don’t think he trusts her, it’s better for everyone for her to move on 

12

House really just does whatever he wants and cuddy has to deal with it because he’s too smart

Chase🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 

I love when Wilson clocks house

Wilson: I don’t know him I don’t know him I don’t know him I don’t know him 

Girl- house- why are you testing your rivals drug on yourself, thinking it’s gonna not work

Foreman helping house😭😭😭😭😭😭

The triplets being so accommodating to house with the migraine he gave himself😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Bro lying on the ground is such a mood. I adore him

Why why why why am I watching a kid get covered in maggots. Why would someone do that to me and that poor kid. The parents should just say no

Wilson getting house water while also assaulting his senses😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I love that Wilson is simultaneously caring for house and calling him out. What a man. 

This lumbar puncture is giving me anxiety. Like what if we don’t do this actually 

Foreman and Chase are so my second favorite duo in this show. 

House is unreasonably iconic

He’s really just a pathetic man trying insanely hard to not let it be known that he’s pathetic but I see him for what he is

It really is Wilson’s role in the show to tell us what everyone is feeling

13

Is…… is his leg getting worse?

Get house an mri 

Respectfully I don’t care about this girl. Let’s do house is the patient again. This father is stupid but it’s okay

House are you okay

I love that people look to Chase for comfort

House is so unhinged right now and it’s not fun to watch. Baby are you okay. Wilson come get your man what is going on

This episode is so gross

SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT IS WRONG WITH HOUSE 

HOUSE ASKED WILSON FOR HELP

Okay house lashing out everyone was a great moment of humanization for him. Because we all see him as this infallible being 

Wilson pretending to be god is the cutest thing I’ve seen all day. He’s so silly. He’s so silly for house 

Love how Chase goes along with house

JESUS CHRIST HOUSE. YOU NEED TO GO SEE A DOCTOR MY DUDE. HOW ARE YOU NOT GOING TO A DOCTOR. YOUR BEST FRIEND IS ONE. YOUR ENTIRE TEAM IS DOCTORS. YOUR BOSS IS A DOCTOR. YOU ARE ONE. PLEASE GO SEE A DOCTOR

Okay placebo is all well and good but what is wrong with him. I’m so lost. 

Also nonbinary/trans representation in a 2004 show?

14

Just house and Wilson is insulting each other

Living for house shouting at Wilson across the hospital about his sex life and Wilson just assuming it’s about him having an affair

I love when house goes into actually saving a patient mode. Him at work is absolutely spectacular

Wilson was reaching our house. How did you look that in the face of your hurting friend and just say no

WILSON MY BABY BOY

welp I’m sorry baby but at least you get to hang out with your best friend more…

15

I’m betting that house isn’t gonna kick Wilson out

CHASE WAS ACTUALLY GONNA APPLAUD FOR HOUSES JUGGLING 

I’m living for roommates hilson so bad. Please never back him move out 

Absolutely obsessed with Wilson being a good cook and house stealing all of his food 

“Property of James Wilson, trespassers with be prosecuted!” What if he put that sticky note on himself instead of the fridge? Just saying 

Babygirl, if you’re gonna delete Wilson’s voicemails about new apartments, at least get him an air mattress so he doesn’t have to sleep on the couch. Come on man, where’s your manners

16

Okay why did Wilson put the girl in an elevator so house could do something

I LOVE THE PRANKS. IM SORRY IVE BEEN BUSY THIS EPISODE DOING THINGS BUT HOUSE AND WILSON LIVING TOGETHER AND PRANKING EACH OTHER IS THE CUTEST THING IVE EVER SEEN 

I dearly adore roommate hilson. Like so bad

17

That kid in the intro was gonna try to deliver the teachers baby. Also these fake outs as to who is gonna be sick are getting so boring. Girl I don’t care who it is that gets sick, I don’t know any of them. 

House I- he just always has to be messing with Wilson

House making Wilson lose is hilarious. Love everything 

I LOVE WILSON

house tell your boyfriend if you’re doing okay

Wilson says something smart and House falls a little more in love with him 

This episode is insane, kid is dying, matching a case of 70 year old, house is obsessed, house is playing mind games with Wilson, there’s a party, Wilson was called in for an actual consult. What is going on

Wilson just talks and hopes that it triggers something in house. 

I think what this episode taught me is that if house ever loses a case, I will break down

18

I have come to the deeply disturbing realisation that house has become my comfort show since I started watching it

Living for Chase actively doing procedures and Cameron/Foreman asking him for advice during the procedures. Like you guys can’t wait 30 minutes. 

This Ethical Dilemma is so boring. I don’t care at all. 

No one plays along with house’s metaphors like Wilson

How many languages does house speak????

Idk foreman if someone I viewed as a colleague came to me and said that, I wouldn’t push them away like that. Maybe try not to be annoying to Cameron, you do have to work together

19

NO WILSON MOVED OUT WHY NO WHY HAVE I BEEN FORSAKEN

House going to Wilson to rant and then Wilson going to House to rant. I love them

This patient is freaking everyone out and I am one of those people. Can you like chill bro. A little too into himself

Yes girl get Foreman. 

Chat my dads are fighting

The way I love Wilson so much

Chase is really the best triplet

WILSON ARE YOU INSANE

He’s insane, he may be clocking house but he’s insane

This episode is wild

NO HILSON ROOMMATES DO THEY WANT ME TO CRY. I WANT MY ROOMMATES BACK

20

HOUSE JUST SHOOTING A GUY IS SO FUNNY 

Aw did they get put in time out, the way everyone is just sitting there looking et each other looks like they got put in time out

Okay Foreman went to the house and he’s giddy, I’m thinking maybe we should think about the house. 

Chase is literally the only sane one this episode

I love that house clocked chase repeating foreman’s theories so quickly 

This isn’t fun times anymore

[novelizt]

I CAN BUILD A CASTLE OUT OF ALL THE BRICKS THEY THROW AT ME ☁︎ ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

GENRE ➺ angst + fluff, fake relationship

SYNOPSIS ➺ you recruit the daring anthony lockwood to stage a relationship that will rile up the press and give his company publicity.

WC ➺ 10.9k

DISCLAIMER ➺ actress! reader. the fic also sings the "all these people think love's for show, but I would die for you in secret" beat. lockwood calls reader "darling" and "starlet" because... you'll read why. i'm not sure if The Daily Gazette is a real thing. if it is, i mean no slander — this is merely fiction and I needed a publication name.

NOTE ➺ this is for the oldest/only child who takes on a lot for their family — i see you. also, imagine the nick-priyanka chair pull; i like to think that it's lockwood and darling in a nutshell. my ideas were all over the place so this came out a bit messier than i anticipated, but it is lockwood content so i hope you enjoy! especially you, @t2sh0 !!

They say the brightest stars are the ones that burn out first. That was probably what the gazette was counting on, at least.

Ever since you stepped into the limelight, and shortly earned the title of London's Darling, they made a dime a dozen in making your business their business. They would sing your name to high praise one moment then drag it through the mud the next.

You were content with letting them run their mouths, because it was no skin off your nose, but you drew the line at insulting your family.

Someone at the gazette thought it would be absolutely riveting to write about the dirt poor origins you were raised from. In the article, they not only criticized you, but put your parents under a microscope as well.

"All that really happened is, their daughter put on diamonds and called herself a queen," the Daily Gazette said. "It's only about time until they return to their roots—of which aren't much."

They insinuated that you might not even be your father's daughter—or if you were, it wouldn't be long 'til you came out to be as ill as he was. They called your mother weak for not being as proacticve in generating money, and you a fool for being their lapdog. No one in their right mind would just sit and let a publication sully their name like that.

If they were going to make up hullabaloo, you were going to step ahead and give them something else to talk about, and what better play than having London's Darling Starlet fall in love?

It had came to your attention that the gazette had set their eyes on one agency in particular: Lockwood and Company. Specifically one, Anthony Lockwood.

Where they besmirched your name, they glorified his. The kid was talented at weaving through a conversation, you'd give him that. From what you'd read, you already knew he liked being in the glare of publicity.

You were taking a gamble when you walked right up to their statute of work without a disguise. If the someone at the gazette saw you, you hoped that they would get the ball rolling. All that would be left to do is recruit Mr. Lockwood.

But Lockwood hadn't been the one to greet you at the door. You tried not to appear too shocked, but no one really expects to see someone geared in oversized cleaning gear. Whoever it was looked more alien than human.

"Arif's?" the curly haired boy inquired.

You were tempted to scratch your head, because what in the world was an 'Arifs'?

You were conjuring up a response, but then the boy was shoved aside. The girl who had taken his placed looked both inquisitive and sleep-deprived at the same time. Some kind of recognition happened in her eyes and you smiled, mirroring hers.

The curly haired boy looked positively disturbed by it.

"Hello," you said delicately. "does Mr. Lockwood happen to be in at the moment?"

"He is," the girl said. "You must be the Darling of London. I've seen you in the papers. My friend, Norrie, would be so happy if you could—"

"Luce?"

You weren't usually struck by strangers but you knew right away, that it must be him: Anthony Lockwood. He had the timbre and tone of a well-trained celebrity. It was no wonder the gazette was tripping over themselves to write him.

"Lucy's busy smiling at the Darling of London, or whatever she called her," the curly-haired boy reported, akin to a child who wanted to see their sibling be scolded.

"George," Lockwood turned his attention with a terse intonation. "why don't you pop on the kettle?"

George's smirk fell. He muttered something at Lucy before retreating to the door beside the stairwell. The wide berth he left gave you your first glimpse of the gazette's most recent favorite.

Anthony Lockwood was a spectacle in a suit and tie, looking exactly like his pictures in the papers. He cleaned up nicely enough. You just couldn't help but wince at the disarray his hair was in.

"Lucy, will you please?" Lockwood gave Lucy a look. She cast a glance at you before hesitantly joining George in the kitchen.

You made a mental note to ask about her friend, Norrie, later. It's the least you could do for her saving you from George.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Lockwood turned his attention back to you. He leaned easily against the doorframe, giving off the impression that he was conversational enough, even if you weren't being very good at being polite.

"Welcome to Lockwood and Co., I'm Anthony Lockwood," he said courteously, flashing a smile that would make the press go crazy. You've seen just one like it on cast mates, but he had done it so well you know he'd practiced to get it perfect, or maybe he was naturally good at smiling. You wouldn't know. His voice waded through your reverie. "How can we help you?"

"The kind of help I need isn't a usual request, Mr. Lockwood," you said forwardly. You glanced over his shoulder before offering a chaste smile. "May I come in?"

—

You didn't expect an audience of three after being lead to the receiving room. Then again, you should have. The reasonable assumption was that you were here for ghost-related troubles. You weren't sure how to clarify that you weren't.

You accepted a cup of tea and took in the air in the room before proceeding. Lockwood was sat right across from you, attentively bent toward you. Lucy was trying to keep on a amiable façade in her seat (likely to get a signature for her friend). George was... being himself. He was an odd one, but he had rid himself of his space suit, so that was nice. None of them seemed to be hostile though. That was always a good thing.

"I have a personal favor to ask of you," you started. You rested your hands over your knees, retaining your resolution. "and it involves the recent rumors about me."

"Which one? The one about your prissy attitude or the inevitable downfall of your entire family?" George wasn't as ignorant as he made himself out to be. He took a sip of tea when Lucy glared his way. Lockwood didn't look too surprised by his snide, George must regularly be like this.

You stifled a laugh of your own, amused by his forward nature. "Both, to be honest. The gazette has been generous with their slander lately." You tapped your finger on your knee. "One can only take so much . . . That's what brought me here. I need your help to keep them under control. You'll be properly compensated, of course."

"Miss Darling—" Lockwood started. It wasn't your name but you let it be since he sounded genuine enough. "—we are a psychical agency. What you're asking, it's out of our area of expertise."

"I am aware of that, but I'm not making this request to Lockwood & Co.," you said firmly. You steeled yourself when you set your eyes on him. He flinched under the intensity. "I'm asking you directly, Mr. Lockwood."

George hunched forward, unsuccessfully staunching a laugh. Lucy had straightened in her seat, eyes bugged out of her head. And Lockwood? The surprise on his face couldn't have been fake. He blinked and blinked, but his brain couldn't catch up.

You went on. "My family's been involved. I can't sit idly by while their names are being tarnished. I need something to dissolve those rumors, or at least distract the public enough to forget about them."

He cleared his throat but it was clear he was still ruffled by your earlier admission. "And how would I contribute to that?"

You tried to sound professional, but even your most prim tone sounded odd when it came to a request like this. "I need you to court me."

George stopped trying to muffle his laughter. He even grew bold enough to take a biscuit to snack on. "This is rich. 'Court' and 'Lockwood' in the same sentence? Never thought I'd see the day. You're better off with someone like Quill Kipps, Miss Darling—was it? At least he can act."

Lockwood shot a glare at George but he didn't budge, smiling as he devoured his biscuit. Lucy had recovered and gave her two cents. "George is right. Lockwood doesn't have the best track record in terms of subtlety."

Lockwood looked affronted. "I'm not as bad as you make me out to be."

"You're right," George said gleefully, smiling at you with his eyes. "He's worse."

"You know what," Lockwood said with renewed inspiration. "I'll help you, Miss Darling. Regardless of what my colleagues have to say." He turned his attention to you. You almost cracked a smile at the sheer determination in his complexion. Anthony Lockwood clearly despised being bad at anything. "I'm at your service, starting this very second." He poked the table to enunciate every word. Amused didn't feel like an apt word to describe what you were feeling.

"I was hoping you'd be the opposite of subtle," you said with a polite smile. "You're an enigma to the gazette, Mr. Lockwood. I need you to attract as much attention to us as you can."

He lifted his chin with that award-winning smile. "Consider it done."

George was still grinning to himself, finishing off his biscuit with a dodgy sort of laugh. Lucy had thrown herself back, likely holding in a sigh by the way her shoulders sunk.

Regardless, you felt hope rush through you as you reached across the table, sealing the deal with a handshake that shouldn't have been half as memorable as it was.

—

Lucy's Norrie had set off the domino effect, and you would be forever grateful for it. It didn't take long for the gazette to catch wind and write up their narrative.

!! LOCKWOOD & CO.'S SPECIAL CONNECTION TO LONDON'S DARLING

Recipients, it has come to our attention that London's Darling has shipped out a special signed poster for a friend from Lockwood & Co. The two parties have never had an interaction prior to this instance. We suspect a budding alliance from two very distinct worlds. More about Lockwood & Co.'s most recent escapade on page 7!

It was the first time you finished reading an article without your jaw tensing. It was doing well for your family's temperaments as well. Your mother was now inquiring about the blooming relationship between you and a certain someone instead of agonizing over the manic rumors told about the family. Whenever asked, you feigned ignorance and left the conversation at that.

—

The next time the gazette wrote about London's Darling and Lockwood & Co., it had been about a genuine act of kindness that had been caught on camera.

The trio had finished up a case late in the morning and you dropped by to gift them a hearty breakfast. You didn't intend for the gazette to pick up on the minute interaction, but they always found ways to weasel their way into things. If you didn't despise them so, you would have given them credit for their tenacity.

!! LONDON'S DARLING NOW BECOMING THE DARLING OF LOCKWOOD & CO.

Recipients, an insider recounts the story of seeing our Darling at 35 Portland Row. Coincidentally, the official offices for the psychical agency, Lockwood & Co. She narrates that the starlet had hand-delivered doughnuts and some other necessities; Actively taking time out of her bustling schedule to tend to the operatives she has recently befriended. For the first time since her limelight debut, she has a heart! Our insider also notes a particularly bright smile from the agency's founder and boss, Anthony Lockwood. Is this another one of our Darling's summer flings? See page 4 for news about Darling's controversial role in unveiled coming-of-age film.

You saw a couple reading the recent print as you were walking to Portland Row. They were particularly giggly, so it was safe to assume that the public was falling for your theatrics.

You arrived to Lockwood's abode with a smile.

—

"The gazette's gone feral, haven't they?" George exasperated, throwing the paper on the table after he had cut out Lockwood & Co's bit in the headlines. "You didn't even have to try for this one, did you?"

"Not at all," you chuckled. "They have a way of finding out, even if we don't mean for them to."

"They could have chosen a better picture," Lockwood murmured, eyes permanently narrowed at the cut-out George had hung on their wall. "I did not look that worn out that morning."

"I can't remember it, so I can't lie," Lucy said passively. She slid a pot of tamarind soup through the disarray of cups and papers. It gave you a wider glimpse of the doodles on the cloth. Lockwood had explained the nuance of the doodles earlier. You strongly believed anyone would find the scrawled notes (and insults) endearing.

You leaned over the table as the fragrance of the soup wafted into the air, like tendrils of smoke tempting you for a taste. You held back a smile and tried not to stare at their dinner for too long. You had more self-control than that, but, despite your best efforts, your stomach had a mind of its own.

Your stomach didn't usually rumble but it had chosen that specific moment to do so. You tried to play it off but the members of Lockwood & Co. had already paused in their steps, turning to you with varying levels of surprise. George looked disturbed; Lucy, startled; and Lockwood, amused.

"Hungry?" Lockwood asked, already knowing the answer.

"Not at all," you waved off. He saw right through your stoicism with a growing smile. "It was just a stomach cramp," you insisted.

He didn't move his eyes away from you as he pulled out a chair, but didn't sit in it. "Can't send you home with your belly doing that, can we, George?"

"The gazette might as well write us up for being terrible hosts," George said agreeably.

Lucy set out an additional plate and bowl. "We have a reputation to uphold, you know."

There was an air of something you couldn't quite place. You saw Lockwood's smile first, amused and welcoming all at once. From the corner of your eye, you found George and Lucy doing the same. There was no other word that could describe the moment other than 'warm'. With a feeble smile, you sat in the chair Lockwood had pulled out for you and tried not to look like a mangy raccoon in the midst of a famine.

Only when the sound of clinking cutlery and plates filled the room did you muster the courage to speak again. "Thank you for having me."

"Don't mention it, Starlet," Lockwood said, nudging your side. "You're the reason our clients have been burgeoning lately."

"Who knew a movie star had so much influence?" George asked rhetorically. "If we keep this up, we might be able to afford more biscuits."

"Even if that happens, the biscuit rule stays," Lucy stated, pointing her spoon at George.

There was always something gleefully odd about this place. Sometimes, it was hard to keep up. "What is this biscuit rule?" you asked, looking between all three of them.

"I'll tell you after dinner," Lockwood promised, carefully placing a bowl of soup next to your plate. "Eat. You must be starving."

You withheld the urge to smile but found that, even with your experties in pretending, you had a hard time acting in the company of Lockwood and Co.

—

"How strict is the biscuit rule rotation?" you inquired Lucy.

You had never experienced sleeping over at someone else's house. Doing so, at your mature age, felt a little zany. Not that you could do much about it.

The expert (Anthony John Lockwood) was firm about not letting you walk home at this dark hour. Even more so because the sun had set earlier than expected. Hence, the reason you found yourself rooming with Lucy for the night.

"Strict," was Lucy's answer; half with you, half not. She was at the vanity, writing in a journal. Likely for her friend, Norrie—if their names scribbled on the front was anything to go by. She looked so focused, you would have guessed she was aspiring to out-write the folks at the Daily Gazette.

Defeated, you heaved a sigh and submitted yourself to a few moments of quiet in a place so unfamiliar.

The bed bounced under your weight. The springs you heard in the mattress reminded of you of home, yet, the stars on the ceiling reminded you that you weren't. Most of them clung on but some had fallen off, leaving behind star-shaped irregularities in the paint. You counted four fallen stars before you were reeled back by the feeling of another weight falling beside you.

"Comfortable, Miss Darling?"

Lockwood.

You righted your posture. He sat up with you, taken-aback by your shift in demeanor.

"Yes," you said stiffly, combing down your hair. "Thank you for letting me stay the night."

"I couldn't let you go in good conscience," he said offhandedly. "Don't be tense. I'm only here to offer pajamas."

Your eyes found the neat pile stacked right beside him. The little act of kindness had warranted him a smile, one he returned with equal sheepishness.

"Thank you," you said again.

"It's no trouble." He flourished his hand as he said it. The springs creaked again when he shuffled off the bed. "Sleep well, Miss Darling."

"My name or just 'Darling' is fine, Mr. Lockwood. 'Miss' is much too formal."

"It's Anthony then, darling." He said it with such resounding charm, you almost regret allowing him to continue on that way. "Sleep well," he trailed off.

He stared at you, like he was looking for something in you. You were accustomed to getting weird, prolonged glances in the street, but you felt conscious when it was him. You blamed it on First Sleep-over Jitters. When you finally averted your gaze, he snapped out of his reverie. With a noncommital smile, he jerked a thumb at the door. "I'm right downstairs if you need anything."

"I'll keep that in mind, Anthony." As you said it, you couldn't shake the feeling similar to stepping into a classroom for the first time. There was a flash of surprise on his face before he schooled his expression, back to his notorious smile.

You wouldn't have known, but he couldn't shake the thought that he'd never heard his name sound so nice before.

He held back a smile as he said, "Goodnight then, darling."

You did worse at hiding yours. "Goodnight, Anthony."

You said his name so carefully, he ought to think he was important. Even if the smiles exchanged were bashful, it encapsulated his world.

He retreated to the steps, halting to occasionally look at you before Lucy had gotten sick of his snail pace and told him to bugger off. She had taken her side of the bed when her journal entry for Norrie was finished.

"Is he always that odd?" you asked her, taking the pajamas and heading to the bathroom to change.

The clothes were light, but they weighed much more to you. Who could blame you for admiring a simple shirt and pajama pants? That was your first sleep-over, after all.

Past your ogling, you could still hear Lucy's voice through the door. "Who, Lockwood? Not usually. Suppose he wants to make a good impression."

"Because I'm your highest paying client?" you inquired in a sing-song tone, slipping the shirt over your head. You should have expected the smell of lavender to engulf you.

Lucy snorted, laying back on her pillows. "Because he's a fan, Miss Darling."

"You can call me by my name, Ms. Carlyle," you chuckled, trying to keep your tone even as you examine which way the pajama pants go.

"And you can call me by mine, Miss Darling," she retorted.

When you got your pajama situation under control, you poked your head out of he door. "Touché, Lucy."

She tipped her invisible hat. "I try, Miss Darling."

"Is my name ugly?" You questioned, tone bordering on a sigh. You set yourself down on the vacant side of her bed, planting straight into the pillow on contact. "Just tell me that it is, I won't be offended. Why else would people avoid it like the plague?"

"Miss Darling does sound odd, doesn't it? In my opinion, it's quite regal. You should change your surname to it, honestly. The word just fits you."

You exhaled, catching sight of the stars on the ceiling once more. "And who gave you that absurd idea?"

"Lockwood did," she told you, taking you by surprise. You physically reeled at the fact. "He watched—What was the name of that film again?—Timeless. You played the teenage version of the main character. He wouldn't shut up about the movie for ages, said your character was his favorite. I believe her name was—"

"Darling..." you whispered the same time she said it.

"—and he kept going on and on and on about how you were the epitome of the word. He wouldn't put a stopper on it," Lucy shook her head, recalling his raving vividly. "We couldn't get him to shut up, even while we were off on fieldwork. Eventually, it stuck with us. I couldn't unsee you as 'Miss Darling'. Then the press started calling you 'The Darling of London'. It only proved his case. If there was a word more fitting than 'insufferable', 'Lockwood' would be it."

You believed snorting was the only correct response to that.

"I'm surprised he hasn't fallen over himself trying to impress you," she chuckled. Lucy crossed her arms over her belly, cozying up to her pillow. "Don't tell him I told you though. He might take away my turn in the biscuit rotation. He can be petty like that."

"Sounds childish," you muttered.

"I wouldn't put it past him," Lucy said with a shrug. "He already thinks he's God's gift."

"He's in the good graces of the Daily Gazette. So, he's close enough to it for me," you chuckled.

"Only you would think that." Lucy shook her head. "Go to sleep, Miss Darling. Else you'll have nightmares 'bout him."

"Is that a real warning?"

Lucy shut off the lights. "Yes," she said into the dark.

It was far too late for you. Just seeing the gentle limerence on the ceiling brought your thoughts right back to him.

Unbeknownst to you, Lockwood couldn't put his mind to rest either. Him knowing you were just a stairwell away was an involuntary shot of adrenaline.

—

Amusement parks smelt like burned popcorn and sugar. It was unbearably noisy but the neon lights and the shining attractions negated the cons. Lockwood thought he might just kiss you for bringing them here on a Thursday.

There were enough people to make the place feel alive but it wasn't so crowded that they couldn't get on the rides they wanted to try.

He namely appreciated that fact because Lucy and George didn't look too upset about being out of their element. They looked excited, even. Lucy was glancing at a shooting game and George was oddly fascinated by the horror house.

As if driving them here wasn't surprise enough, you dropped a heavy pouch in each of their palms with the simple instruction to knock themselves out.

After agreeing to meet up before dark, the group broke into three. Lucy went off to win herself a rapier, George was off to scare the clowns in the horror house, and Lockwood was trailing behind you.

"You can do your own thing, Anthony," you reassured, lined up for cotton candy. "I can handle myself in daylight."

"Darling, I'm a gentleman. I can't leave a dame alone in such a vast scape," he replied, bold enough to tap your nose. "What kind of make-believe boyfriend would I be if I did?"

He was amused by the way you rolled your eyes. Lockwood was convinced that only you could make something so trivial so enigmatic. Warmth prickled on your cheeks, turning them the same shade of pink as the cotton candy the store owner handed to you. You ordered one for Lockwood before telling him, "Press isn't here—they'd have to pay the tall entrance fee to enter. At ease, soldier."

"Negative. I'm staying by you—as a very concerned friend," he rebutted with resolve, asking for a brief pause to receive the cotton cone spun for him. "Is that so bad?"

"I thought you three deserved to enjoy some time away from work," you confessed.

You didn't know where to head so Lockwood steered you toward a bench, guiding you with one hand on the small of your back. It took all your effort to keep your expression neutral but you continued to chatter, biting down the urge to grin like an idiot.

The only way you knew how to distract yourself was to speak. And speak, you did. "You're either working with ghouls or with me for you know what. I thought you'd be sick of me by now," you joked.

"Of you? Never."

He said it like it wasn't an arrow straight to your heart, and you couldn't shirk the feeling that you should have prepared yourself better. He was Anthony Lockwood, after all.

Like the heathen he is, took a sizeable bite out of his fluff of cotton candy. In your favor, your attention was drawn somewhere else. His upper lip was crusted in princess pink sugar and he was flashing his princely smile, completely unaware of his mustache. You pressed your lips together to keep your laugh in.

He lowered his head, trying to meet your eyes, to no avail. You screwed them shut and curled into yourself to keep your composure.

He cocked a brow. "Cute as you are, I want to know what are you laughing about."

"Nothing," you said unconvincingly. You took a glance at him and snorted.

With a pinched expression, he looked at himself in the reflection of a metal stall then he rubbed the sugar away with the sleeve of his coat, scarlet tinging his ears.

"Never speak of this," he told you.

You mimed yourself zipping your lips and he nodded, satisfied.

Your composure broke the moment he crossed his arms and hunched into himself like a kid.

—

You'd been to that same amusement park many times in your life. You rode the same rides back when you were a starlet in the entertainment world. You won the same prizes when you wanted to impress your parents. You ate the same food you did when you were a tyke.

All those memories, and none of them compared to experiencing all of it with Anthony John Lockwood. His incandescence weaved into every new memory, leaving his face seared into the back of your eyelids. Even if you tried to deny it, the pain in your cheeks reminded you that you spend hours on end smiling with him or at him.

Despite your best efforts, his presence made you feel something you never expected to feel for anyone. There was no word for it, and you refused to give it a name.

When the sky theatened to turn orange, you snagged his arm and drove him all the way to your favorite ride. Even if you craned your neck all the way, you could never see the top of the ferris wheel. Perhaps Lockwood could, but you were too timid to ask.

The decorative lights looked weak in daylight but it was magical nonetheless. Nothing could complete your day like hopping into your favorite gondola and seeing the park from all the way up.

When you pulled him back, he had to complain. "That one was empty." Lockwood frowned at the dandy green gondola that circled past.

"No, no. We can't take that one, it has to be this one."

Lockwood had never seen so much excitement shine through your usually collected demeanor. It was like a breath of fresh air. He couldn't bring himself to fight you on it.

When the coral pink gondola swung to a stop and creaked its doors open, you pulled him right into its bowels. The interior was vandalized with countless pens and markers. Even in the chaos, he recognized your penmanship. It was messier than it was now but it was undeniably yours. Only you swooped your 'y's that extravagantly.

Someday soon, I'm going to be the biggest star you'll ever see!

Some of the ink was scratched off but the message stood the test of time. He wondered if you remember even writing it, but one glance at you told him all he needed to know. You paid no mind to the vandalism, eyes enthralled by the rising view outside. He felt his cheeks ache from the beginnings of a smile. He forced it down when you laid your eyes on him.

"Just wait 'til we reach the top. The pathways form a giant star if you look down. There's nothing quite like it."

Endeared, he asked, "How did you find that out?"

If your smile was anything to go by, the memory was very fond to you. "The first time I passed an audition, my parents took me up here and told me to look down. I was terrified of heights back then but they told me some things were worth conquering fears for." You let out a seraphic laugh at the memory. "I saw the giant star . . . and I swore that I'd be a bigger star than it one day; that all their sacrifices would be worth it. They did their best to support me and my pipe dream. I would pay back their labor, ten-fold."

"And you did," Lockwood said in an out-of-breath kind of way. You didn't know what to make of it.

"And I did," you whispered in reply. "I even scribbled my promise somewhere in here. I don't remember where exactly. May have been scratched off."

"Maybe," Lockwood chuckled, leaning his side against the wall; hiding your kiddish penmanship from your view. He had no explanation as to why he did, but he'd rather you to focus on the present. You achieved a lot between then and now. He thought it was much nicer to look forward than to look back.

He didn't realize how long the trip to the top would be. The silence didn't feel tense or forced, it was comfortable. Like an air of understanding had made the air warm instead of still.

Perhaps it was you and how unguarded you had become since stepping into the gondola, but all he knew was that your honest heart inspired him to be brave. He took a leap in a brightly painted gondola, miles up from the ground, just about to touch the clouds.

"My family would have loved seeing this," he said.

Your eyes tore away from the view to look at him. Curiosity whirling in those eyes of yours. "Where is your family? I don't think I've seen them. Are they abroad?"

When you looked at him like that, he forgot all his fears. "They aren't around anymore."

Your expression heartened. You turned all your attention to him. "I'm so sorry, Anthony. I shouldn't have—"

"No," he interrupted you, a ghost of a smile on his face. "I want you to know."

Your lips quivered, forming something that was a half-smile, half-frown. "I don't know what to say..."

"You don't have to say anything. I just thought you should know." His eyes fell to his knees, picking at the frays of his coat sleeves to distract himself. "My parents were researchers. They wanted to know what rituals other cultures had to communicate with spirits and keep themselves safe. They were working when they passed away. My sister, Jessica, she was ghost-touched." Everything came out when he was looking directly at you. Knowing you were paying attention was solace enough. "You should have seen the ghost when I was done with him, ha. As for my family . . . Even if they're not around anymore, they continue to remind me of the most valuable lessons. I do my best to never forget."

"Must be why you're so protective of Lucy and George," you said lightly, offering him a sunrise of a smile that brought back the color into the world.

"I am," he said with renewed confidence. "I'd do anything for them."

"Like make deals with prissy, troubled actresses?" you jested, bumping your knee against his.

His lips twitched, threatening a smile. "Yeah." He bumped his knee to yours but didn't move away, content with being close to you in any way you'd have him. "Exactly."

A smile crept up your face. "You have a wonderful family now, Anthony."

"I would say the same but I realize I haven't met them yet."

You threw your head back, laughing. The sound was so precious, he wished he had half the hearing of Lucy to remember it well. "Someday, Anthony. Someday..."

"I'll hold you to it."

The light that filtered in turned yellow, touching your face with gold. The sun was dipping between the far hills and, finally, your gondola had reached the pinnacle of the wheel.

You gently cupped his chin to turn his attention to the view. Your touch made his breath hitch, but the view had successfully stolen the air from his lungs. Even in his wildest dreams, he couldn't have predicted just how breath-taking the view was.

True to your word, the amusement park was laid out in a way that made the pathways draw a star—the stall lights that began to appear accentuated the shape. The stripped roofs of the attractions were like swirling patterns that encircled the the display. For lack of a better word, it was stupendous.

Your voice matched the sereneness of the moment. "My grandparents said that seeing fireworks from the top of a ferris wheel was an experience like no other, but with the Problem and the curfew, we might never be able to see something like it..."

"Wouldn't hurt to dream though, would it?"

You chuckled. "No, it wouldn't..."

Vaguely, in the reflection of the window, he saw your smile. A true, unfiltered smile. It's the brightest you'd ever appeared to him, and it was worlds better than the view you were gawking over.

The magic fizzled when the gondola began to decend, bringing you closer to earth and away from the utopia in the middle of a ferris wheel.

He couldn't recognize you once your mask came back on. Lockwood didn't realize why until he saw a flash of light in the corner of his eye.

The gazette had spilled coffee all over a perfectly good day.

—

!! LOCKWOOD'S DARLING

Recipients, we can confirm that there is a blooming romance between London's favorite Starlet and Lockwood & Co.'s charismatic leader. In the middle of a busy week for both individuals, they set aside time for a romantic ferris wheel ride in Starcrest Amusement Park—an ideal recreational venue for families and couples. See also: additional reports from our inside sources on page 7.

!! A DARLING'S DARLING

Recipients, we have more news on London's most fetching young couple. Both Darling and Lockwood have been growing bolder in putting their relationship in the spotlight. Recent reports state that Darling had invited Lockwood and Company to her film set — a feat of trust we haven't seen from her until she'd been swept of her feet by her latest and only suitor, Anthony Lockwood. He even presented her a bouquet of her favored flowers upon visiting. Backstage photographs from our insider on page 3!

!! A NOT VERY INVISIBLE STRING

Recipients, London's most captivating young couple was spotted wearing matching red-string bracelets, shifting to the 'private but not secret' path in their relationship. However, we always fetch you the ripest updates on their heart-stopping romance. More on page 4!

—

You were more than pleased by the sound of swishing newspaper and the snip of scissors. George had extracted another pretty picture of the recent news and hung it on the wall of achievements.

"Featured on a handful of headlines and it hasn't even been a year," Lockwood said, sounding very pleased with himself. He barely lifted a finger and Lockwood and Co. already had five additional clippings to their wall. "Gazette patrons are calling in to have us take care of visitors with all this media exposure." He set his hands on the stair newel and set his chin on them, looking up at you. It may have been a trick of a light but he was more radiant from where you were standing. "I have you to thank for that."

"You're the one helping me," you smiled. "I haven't heard a bad word about myself or my family. The peace is . . . unsettling. They really are bent on painting you as a saint, Anthony."

"Am I not?" he smiled.

You returned it, just as joyous. "That's the charisma I need for my birthday ball."

That made him straighten and grow brighter, if that were possible. "Birthday ball?"

You nodded, returning your eyes to Lockwood & Co.'s wall of accomplishments. "Lucy and George, too. It's a black tie event, and, yes, you may bring your rapiers."

He tilted his head, jarred. "What kind of people will be in attendance if we're allowed rapiers?"

"The most terrifying kind," you said with exaggerated dread, starting for the door. "Extended family I don't know well and journalists."

He sped ahead, clicking the door open for you. "Petrifying."

"Very," you chuckled. "Can I expect you to be there?"

He leaned toward you and you deluded yourself to believe he was doing so for his own benefit, but you knew damn well that there was a camera in the corner of your eye. Lockwood had caught sight of it before you, crowding you against the doorframe to paint the stomach-fluttering picture of a boy who simply couldn't resist being near his girl.

The idea was far more appealing than it was supposed to be.

His voice sounded saccharine up close. "What kind of flowers does your mother like?"

You titlted your head. "What for?"

"It's common courtesy to gift the in-laws. It wouldn't hurt to be prepared." He grinned at you, and you couldn't help but return it.

"She likes roses, and my dad is a fan of Ferrero Rochers."

"Noted," he chirped. He tugged a strand of your hair lightly before pulling away, taking his warmth with him.

You mustered a convincing enough smile. "Goodbye, Anthony."

"Goodbye, darling starlet."

He should have known you were going to do something. You grew up under the limelight, after all.

You've kissed many boys but he hoped you don't kiss them like you kissed him. Truthfully, it was only a kiss on the cheek, but he'd recall the feeling of your lips at the most untimely moments. He was ghost-touched because he couldn't shirk it.

—

You gave them a plot of the house. So, they did expect your house to be massive. What you did not tell them was the fact that your birthday ball was a masquerade ball. Lockwood was quite struck as he watched people file in with half their faces concealed under frivolously decorated masks. Lucy and George were just as confused.

"You're sure you didn't hear her say anything about this?" Lucy asked, hugging her arms as the evening chill began to creep in.

"Positively. Would I lie about something like this?" Lockwood replied, readjusting his grip on the generous bouquet of roses.

"Lie or not, we have to head in eventually. Unless your girl has a butler or handmaid who'd fetch us," George nipped. It was bad enough that Lockwood had forced him into a suit, but he had to stand in the freezing cold while passerbys walked right into the grandeur of your family's estate. The chandeliers casted gold silhouettes across the shadows. George bet it was warm in there. "Perhaps a visitor will come put us out of our misery."

"Keep your shirt on, George," Lockwood said firmly. "Perhaps having us enter without decoration was her intention."

"Who goes to a masquerade ball without a mask?" George scoffed.

"Lockwood & Co., apparently." Lucy rolled her eyes. She cast a nervous glance behind her but found lanterns had been lit. They smelt of lavender, reassuring her that despite your family's reputation, you weren't ignorant to the Problem. "Shall we head inside or face the treacherous cold?"

Lockwood, thoroughly done with their snideness, promptly decided on the former. He rolled his shoulders back and righted his posture before joining the line to the threshold.

"I see a buffet," Lucy said with new-found energy. Suddenly, the cold wasn't so unforgiving.

"Is that a chocolate fountain?" George inquired. Even if he did his best to keep his tone even, they caught the subtle intonation on the word 'chocolate'.

"Compose yourselves," Lockwood reminded primly. "we are representatives of the agency as well as guests, so, do try to mingle before losing yourselves in the smorgasbord."

"Sure."

"Absolutely."

Lockwood didn't know who said what, but he knew their answers were merely supplementary. They would bolt for the buffet as soon as the made it past the front door. At least their concerns about the lack of disguise were put to rest.

As they neared the doors, the warmth from the inside began to thaw away their frigidness. By the time they stepped into your abode, they were swallowed by the luxury. The word 'cold' didn't exist in a place as decadent as this.

The velvet curtains were pulled back fully, showcasing ceiling-length windows that glimmered with reflections of your guests, . A large chandelier illuminated the ballroom, washing everyone in supple, golden light. It brought out everyone's best features. Even the floor was polished so perfectly, it could have been a mirror.

If he didn't know better, Lockwood would have thought he walked right into a fairytale. He didn't realize Lucy and George had made their escape until he looked behind himself to find them gone.

He didn't have to idle by for very long. Like how sun rays pierce through storm clouds, you parted the crowd. You shone under the chandelier-light, a star put on earth, and you smiled so brightly he had to think you only smile like that for him. Lockwood lost his words, but his mouth was moving.

You were chuckling when you neared. Only when you dodged the roses and leaned on your toes to kiss his cheek did he realize that you didn't supply yourself with a mask either. His earlier guess had been right.

Whatever mirage he was in the middle of was cut through by two more figures coming into view; your parents, most likely. You resembled them a lot.

His joints went rigid but he was experienced enough to project an easygoing energy. All while he repressed bubbling exclamations.

He played on his best smile and reached for your father's outstretched hand. They met in the middle for a firm handshake.

"You must be the lad our little darling speaks so highly of," Mr. Darling chuckled. He had the kind of smile that put everyone in the room at ease. It reached his eyes. He must be the one you inherited your eye-smile from. A nail of guilt hit him right on the head because it was obvious that the man didn't know his daughter's romance was a fad. "Anthony, is it?"

"You're correct," Lockwood said amiably. His smile widened as he watched your mother's eyes gravitate to the bouquet of roses. "Anthony Lockwood, at your service, sir. And ma'am . . . These are for you." He offered the arrangement to your mother, who accepted them with the grace of a royal. You must have inherited that from her. He would have found it adoring if another strike of guilt didn't come down on him.

"How courteous," your mother said, hiding a smile behind her newly acquired bouquet. Her eyes moved to you and you shared a look Lockwood didn't quite understand. His stomach churned. Your mother then shot a peculiar look at him — like she could see right through him. It made his blood run cold.

Lockwood didn't have the option to ponder on it. Your father had seized Lockwood's attention with a firm pat on the shoulder. Lockwood had to tense his back to keep himself from toppling over.

As grayed as your father was, he had the kind of voice that commanded authority. "Don't be coy, boy. You can call us Ma and Pa. If our little starlet likes you enough to introduce you to us, you must be something special."

Lockwood glanced at you, momentarily paused by your smile. "She's the special one between us, sir—"

"Pa," your father corrected.

"Pa," Lockwood rectified smilingly. He wasn't sure what about it made him feel so melancholic and comforted at the same time. "I should be groveling at her feet. I'm very lucky to have caught her attention."

"I like the way you talk. It's no wonder she's so taken by you, Anthony."

Your father surprised Lockwood with a boisterous laugh. He was sure the room tremored for a moment. Lockwood was happy enough to laugh with him, the same time his heart was pounding against his ribcage.

The exchange was interrupted by your mother's squeal of delight. She had found the Ferrero Rochers laying in the bed of roses. She, with bright eyes, brandished them to her husband and Mr. Darling looked positively thrilled by the surprise.

"And thoughtful, too." Your father gave Lockwood the kind of nod you'd only get after you ask for their daughter's hand in marriage. "He's a keeper, little darling."

Lockwood's smile shook. Your mother looked at him strangely once more. He tried to regained himself.

Guilt.

Guilt.

GUILT.

It was drowning him, yet, he kept his cool. (At least, tried to.) You didn't seem to notice the change in his attitude.

You, with your rosy cheeks and resplendent smile, hooked your arm with Lockwood's and said, "I know, pa. That's the plan."

—

"That was not the plan," Lockwood respired, loosening his tie as soon as he stepped into open air. Even when he breathed in lavender, his lungs felt as if they were stuffed with cotton.

You had lead him to a balcony to give him a moment of reprieve only to be met with a glare. So much for being bad at acting, you were convinced his earlier niceties were real.

You regarded him with crossed arms, your cool façade practically a wall between you. "I invited, and you came. That's all that happened here."

"You made a spectacle of me," he rasped, his breath coming out as frost. "I would have been alright with that, but you brought your parents into this. They don't even know you're doing this, do they?"

The way he motioned between you as he said 'this' made you feel like someone's dirty secret. The way you faltered was laughable. Your heart clenched and your nails dug into your palms. You replied the only way you knew how: stronger.

"I don't see what the big issue is, Anthony," you scoffed. "I pay you, you do as I say. What if my parents don't know it's a ploy? The point is to set the stage for the press. I told you that."

"God," he laughed without feeling, raking a hand through his hair. He was heaving like he had just ran a marathon, face turning red. "You don't get it do you? We don't play with people. I don't want to play with people. And that's your family, starlet! Does it not bother you that you are lying to their faces?"

"No, it doesn't," you replied, stoically, standing your ground. "and neither should you. You know I'm doing this for them."

"Are you?" Where you stepped back, he stepped forward. He scoffed. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "It's ironic that a whole ballroom of people hiding behind masks are more honest with themselves than you are to yourself."

"What are you implying?" Your words come out through gritted teeth.

He stood tall, more intimidating than you'd ever seen him. The gauntness in his eyes were more pronounced then. His stature made your composure slip. His words made your knees buckle. "You're an actress. You're a professional at what you do. Even in your own home, you have a façade. Maybe you are, in some twisted way, doing this for the sake of your family, but I can't see that anymore. You're stringing them along . . . As far as I can see, you're just as bad as the gazette makes you out to be. I don't even know if you've been lying to me for the sake of keeping your mask on."

You feel the full force of his words drop down on you. Taking a few steps isn't enough to quiet the rush of throughts crowding your mind. All you see is his despondent face and a hundred and one headlines flash before your eyes.

He takes your hand—making you wish the circumstances were different—before he dropped his red-string bracelet into your palm. It felt heavier than it was supposed to. You couldn't pry your eyes away.

When he turned and left, your thoughts turned into white noise. He had taken every joy with him, deserting you in the muted chatter of what was supposed to be a celebration.

—

!! TROUBLE IN PARADISE

Recipients, it is to our sorrow that the couple that took the country by storm, Darling and Lockwood, seems to have called it quits. Lockwood no longer flaunts the bracelet that had started a trend for couples on this side of the globe. It is unknown whether he had lost it during a skirmish or willingly stopped wearing his. With Darling's trail of broken hearts, it's safe to assume the worst. The Starlet seems to be continuing activities, as usual. The ice princess, unmoved by a romance put to the grave. On a lighter note, read more about Lockwood & Co.'s achievements on page 7.

—

The gazette went for the jugular with that one. For once, they wrote something that had some truth to it. You didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Even your newly developed habit of morning walking barely helped your heartbreak. You've never mourned for something that never was, but, damn, did it hurt. You knew you were in too deep when your feet carried you right to 35 Portland Row.

You stared at the agency plaque for an unnecessary amount of time before you folded yourself over and hugged your knees. At the time, George and Lucy would be out running errands before a case and Lockwood would be arranging their bags inside. Perhaps the security of knowing their schedule made you so confident to sit and wallow the death of what could have been.

Yet, you couldn't mourn that in peace. The silence was interrupted by a shutter. You lifted your head and spotted a paparazzo who didn't even try to hide his presence. He looked like he was in his mid-twenties and already fading. He had a smile on but it set off alarms in your head. You didn't have to ask. You had a feeling. The gazette was all too good at dampening a sunny day.

You stood up quickly but found yourself backed against the wrought-iron gate.

"The Darling Starlet of London... Quite the title. Never thought I'd get to see you in person." His smile widened. You didn't budge. Even with your fiercest glare, he didn't get the message. He looked down at his camera before his smile fell. "Do you know how upset we were when you started going out with that... that pathetic excuse of a human—"

"He's an agent," you cut off. "and he's the reason degenerates like you get to walk the streets without being ghost-touched at every turn."

"Degenerates?" He laughed, covering his mouth. "Oh, Darling Starlet—" The name you found home in was chemical coming from him. "you should know that we made you. He's lucky the chief likes him enough. You'd be nothing without us."

"Without the gazette?" You scoffed, tempted to roll your eyes at the fool. "You do more harm than good."

"But we make or break a career." His hand came away from his mouth, revealing a smile made of pointed teeth. "and what would happen to your folks if your reputation makes a sharp decline, hm? Your father needing all that medicine, your mother taking care of him... What would happen if our little darling turned out to be a little bitch?"

Your anger was boiling over, but the fear of that possibility had crippled you. Words died in your throat. Your will fizzled to nothing. You felt blood drip into your palm, nails clenched into your flesh.

You were still trying to regain yourself when the cold of the gate was pardoned from your back. A familiar warmth replaced it, an arm coming around your middle and a voice that quelled all your fears sounded in your ears. A rapier crossed the distance, severing the neckstrap around the photographer and sending his camera into the pavement. It's lens shattered and the photographer let out a yell.

"If you ever talk to my girlfriend like that again, a broken camera will be the least of your problems."

"Anthony J. Lockwood," the paparazzo snorted. "Your agency hinges on the exposure you get from us. Don't play hero when you know you're defending a sham."

"I'm defending my girlfriend," Lockwood's grip tightened on your hip, and his rapier shined in the light. Your heart did immeasurable things in lieu of Lockwood's doing. "and if you ever threaten my family like this again, I will come after you. The gazette isn't the only publication in London, and I've built a rapport with enough people in the industry to secure my place. I'm not afraid of you."

"You—"

Lockwood turned you around, covering you from view and urging you toward the door. "Head inside, darling. I'll take care of this."

You looked up at him, searching his eyes for resentment or even hate, but found none. His eyes were sunlight through bottles of whiskey. The smile had disarmed you, finally getting through to you.

You took a few hesitant steps before he nodded, assuring you that it was alright. He made sure you were safety inside before he returned his attention to the photographer.

"I do have morals. So, I'll be civil." Lockwood poised his blade. " That said, get off my street before I show you how proficient I am at my job."

—

Some part of you was desperately hoping that things would smooth themselves out after what had transpired. When he offered you his coat before telling you that he'd be walking you home, you knew you were in over your head.

That same night, you flipped the events over in your head. Clenching and unclenching your newly bandaged hand to remind yourself that it was real.

You didn't get much sleep with his voice echoing in your ears and his eyes burned into the back of your eyelids.

—

Your mother must have known something was wrong with you. You mistaked salt for sugar in your morning coffee, you walked into a wall on more than one occasion (a large vase had fallen victim to your daze), and you refused ice cream for the first time in your life.

In the middle of the day, Mama Darling decided that she'd seen enough. She set her knitting things down and urged you to put your book down. You obliged because you couldn't absorb the words anyway.

"My darling girl," your mother started. Her tone is so heartfelt, you felt yourself lax in your seat. A smile came to your face as she caressed your cheek, just as she'd always done. "You've always been such a kind child. So selfless . . . Your only flaw is that you need to know when to let go of your fear and let us handle ourselves, dearest."

You stared at her, lost. She simply smiled, taking your hands in hers. "I know your recent escapades with Anthony were a play, my dear girl." Your spine calcified, heat prickled your eyes. "I always knew. I'm honest when I say he's good for you. He brings out your ugly smile— Don't frown, I mean it in a romantic sense. I know the look of love when I see it, dearest. Don't sacrifice it for pride or fear, my girl. Go get him back."

"Ma," you shuttered, pausing to collect yourself. You were choking on yourself and that wasn't the worst of it. Your vision had blurred from your tears. "you and Pa need me to focus on my career. I have to—"

"No, you don't." She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and swiped her thumb across your cheek. "You'll always be a princess in the eyes of the public, dearest. Any person with two eyes and common sense will see that. You just have to break out of your shell, actually talk to the journalists. Just not the ones from the Daily Gazette—they are something else entirely."

"They are, aren't they?" You manage to laugh through your tears. Only your mother could make you feel these many things at once. She saw right through you. "Right now, Anthony doesn't even want to talk to me. I'm so scared that if I try, he'll tell me everything I don't want to hear. I'm scared he'll see all the nasty things the gazette talked about and hate me for them."

"Darling," your mother said sternly. "we just went over the fact that the gazette is complete and utter bullshit."

You can't help but snort. The rare curse from her had broken through to you. "Sorry, Ma."

"Don't be sorry, my dear girl, be brave." She flipped your hand over and drew lines across your palm. She did it three times before you realized what she was doing; she was drawing stars. "Some things are worth conquering fears for."

The Starcrest ferris wheel. Stolen smiles. Dreams of fireworks.

Your mother smiled at the renewed light in your eyes. She didn't question you as you bolted to the exit.

"Home before dinner! You may bring Anthony!" she called just before you smiled and closed the door behind you.

—

"Lucy?"

"No, this is George."

The world must hate you. You couldn't do much about that. You coiled the telephone wire around your finger as you took a deep breath. "This is... darling."

"I don't know anyone with a ridiculous name like that. Sorry."

You bit your cheek, inhaling the urge to sigh. "The prissy actress."

"Oh. You." He shuffled, crossing his arms. "Speak, before I hang up."

"I have a favor to ask of you," you winced, already expecting the worst.

"What's in it for me?"

You took a breath. "What do you want? Biscuits? An allowance? Access to the VIP collection in the library—"

"All of that, and you have yourself a deal."

"Done."

—

"George— You're usually against room invasion," Lockwood quipped, allowing himself to be dragged up the steps. "and Lucy wouldn't be happy about this."

"When I tell her what I bargained, she'll be fine with it."

"Bargained?"

"Not that important right now, Lockwood. Sit. And for all things grotesque, don't move."

George had pushed Lockwood into the mustard seat beside the attic window. The latter was ready to protest, confusion evident.

A resounding pop had interrupted him. The lights in the room shifted. The shadows stretched and receeded. It took a moment for Lockwood to realize that there were fireworks going off outside.

On the third floor, he had a bird's eye view of the shower of sparks in varying shades of blues, reds, and yellows. He was wondering where the firework show had come from, but his questions were put to rest with a singular look onto the street.

Other than the tins of fireworks, he saw you—looking much like a panicked frog while lighting the fireworks. You looked absolutely ridiculous. His perceptions of you had been thrown to the wind, and he couldn't help but smile.

The last firework burst into pink sparks, lighting up his eyes and your silhouette; embedding itself into his memories. When the air had cleared, he cracked the window open.

"What are you doing down there? Have you gone mad?"

You cupped your hands around your mouth, shouting an answer at him. "Lighting fireworks! You like dem?"

He shook his head, endeared. "How do you even know how to light them?"

"I don't! It was about time I learned!"

"You really are a lunatic..." he chuckled.

You cocked your head. "What did you say?"

"Come in!"

You showed him your thumbs, scuttling to the front door.

Lockwood had never raced down the stairs so quickly before. He apologized quickly to George, who he had almost bumped to ground floor, and Lucy, who had just gotten home with groceries. He raced for the door; hair a mess, breathing short, but smiling widely. He greeted you with the same smile he had on when you first met.

Cute as he was, you couldn't take it anymore. You reached up, fingers brushing his forehead and fixing the strands that had been bothering you for ages.

"I'm sorry," was the first thing you said. You were still heaving from outrunning fireworks but he wasn't in much better shape. "I was scared, and my first instinct was to act like I don't care, but I do. I care so much. About you."

"I got the message," he laughed, looking over your shoulder to the smoke remnants of the showcase.

"No, I'm not done." You took a breath, bracing yourself for it. "I want you to know about me, too. Pa has been sick for a long time. He worked through it so they could afford my commute to and from auditions. The money Ma made was used for medicine or keeping me in school. We struggled for a long time. Some days, I couldn't sleep because I felt so helpless. I wanted to give back to them with every fiber of my being. When I finally could, I never wanted to go back to having nothing. I was willing to do anything to stay where I was—"

"Darling, I get it—"

"—and I lost sight of who I was doing it for. I was so comfortable in allowing anything just to keep a pristine reputation—"

"Darling—"

"—and I hurt you. I never meant to, I'm so sorry. I realize now that I was wrong and I should have been more honest with you because I don't just want to be colleagues anymore—"

"Oh, shut up already."

He bunched your shirt in his fist, pulling you to him with the anticipation born from a thousand dreams. When his lips touched yours, it felt like all of this was worth the wait.

You were sweet and a little smokey, he could have laughed but settled with smiling into the kiss. You stole a breath from him when you nipped at his bottom lip. He could have spent the night like that but the resounding boom from outside made the two of you jump, breaking away from The Best Kiss Ever™ to see the last of the fireworks finish off the moment with golden sparks.

Lockwood couldn't stay upset. After a short laugh, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him right back to you—giving him another kiss to think about for the rest of his life.

—

!! THE COUPLE OF THE CENTRURY, BACK AGAIN !!

Recipients, after a short-lived break, the couple of the century are back—stronger than ever! Various photographs have been taken of them: Dancing in the foyer of the Darling estate, partaking in Mrs. Darling's notorious tea parties, and running away from premiers to steal time for themselves. To see more of them, see page 4!

That was possibly the last good article written about anyone coming from the gazette. Not long after that, they began to be brazen in their attempts to tarnish your reputations. They published photos of the two of you flipping off the photographer, spitting your tongues out at unwanted paparazzi, and spreading the most degrading rumors you had ever heard.

At the same time, the gazette had been losing viewership to London Squire, who was only gaining traction with every article written about the It Couple of Europe. Soon enough, the gazette had lost all credibility; reduced to a mere scandal sheet. It was a breath of fresh air.

The public was enamored by your honest nature and respected the fact that you'd prefer to keep your relationship private. Though, you would be the talk of the town once the Squire got a hold of an exclusive interview.

The topic? Vows, silver rings, and rapiers to cut wedding cake.

DARLING-LOCKWOOD

— It's now official. Our Darling Starlet is off the market after exchanging vows with Lockwood & Co.'s founder and president, Anthony Lockwood. The union took place this weekend in a private ceremony with close family. The couple reveals that the ceremony was grand but they would like nothing more than to keep it to themselves. We are honored that both Mr. & Mrs. Lockwood has given us the opportunity to publish a few pictures taken during their most special day. The writers here at London Squire send all our warmest regards to the newly weds.

The picture wasn't much; Just a scene recreated from the movie that earned you the title of 'Darling'. Even when you shared his name, he persisted in calling you his darling starlet. Though, he takes the utmost pride when he does call you his missus.

NOTE ➺ i don't know if i can get all my 1989 tv songfics done in time but i plan to get them all published before the end of 2023 !

i hope this finds you when you need it. as always, don't be afraid to leave your thoughts in the comments or reblogs. i love to read feedback so don't hold back!!

⌠ @novelizt 2023 ⌡

[covenha]

Synopsis: Seonghwa watches Hongjoong crash and burn and decides to revisit a good ole tactic to help his buddy out. This is a two-part spin off of the simp!verse. Pairings: nerd!hongjoong x fem!reader; guest appearances from Soobin and Yeonjun from TXT Genre: crack, my piss attempt at humor, hongjoong my poor guy is such a simp god bless his heart Warnings: swear words, witchcraft technically WC: 2.4k (I got carried away, oops) a/n: This monster of a chapter was birthed by my sleep-deprive brain from travelling for the holidays. I'm glad I put it out before christmas though because I wanna write something christmas themed before christmas day. This fic is purely fiction and does not portray what the characters are like irl. Feedbacks, reblogs, and comments are also deeply appreciated and highly encouraged! and as always please enjoy :)) Read part 1 here ; Read simp!hwa here

Seonghwa didn’t like getting involved in other people’s lives (he’s lying to himself, really. The aries in him loves making people his puppets). But seeing his best friend and dorm mate, Hongjoong, pouting on his bed whining about his sim’s wife not reciprocating his feelings, he just knew he had to intervene. If he hears Backburner by Niki playing one more time on Hongjoong’s speaker, he’s going to go clinically insane himself. 

“Okay, Hongjoong you gotta stop this! C’mon get up!” Hongjoong is currently face down on his mattress, mumbling along to the song for the nth time this week. 

The Goo Goo Dolls are dead to me the way you should be too

“Joong, I swear-”

But you bring them up along with how much I fucking miss you!

Hongjoong continues to mumble along the words to the song, almost like he’s drunk. And after this, Seonghwa swears he needs a drink too.

“Look, maybe you’re a bit of a fixer upper. I was too! But now look at me, I’m in a loving relationship and I couldn’t be happier.” he still doesn’t seem convinced at whatever peptalk Seonghwa is trying to feed him. But he does stop his singing so it’s a win in Seonghwa’s eyes. 

“I’m gonna let you in on a little trade secret of mine. As much as I look like the total rizzler that I am. I didn’t exactly get the girl on my looks and charm alone.” Hongjoong furrows his brows at this. Ignoring the fact that his friend just used the word “rizzler” unironically, he was desperate at this point. 

“An Etsy witch?!” he looks at Seonghwa, unimpressed at the boba-eyed boy. 

“Look, you just gotta trust me on this one okay?” Hongjoong sighs, I mean he was desperate. His conjured up future of you with his poodle and 2 goldfish was hanging in the balance right now. So he decided to humor Seonghwa. 

“We just gotta use a little bit of manifestation. Alexa play Take a Chance with Me by Niki!” 

With a newfound determination in his step, Hongjoong walks to class that day with one goal in his head. He had to figure out what your name was. 

“I have to find out her name?” Hongjoong furrows his eyebrows at the instructions. 

“Well, yeah. Seulgi needs to know her name for the ritual to be done correctly.” He replies in a matter-of-fact kind of tone. 

“Why can’t I just use that pink stone thingy you used?” 

“Because she has to wear it for 3 days. And, no offense, but I doubt that she would accept anything from you, Romeo.” Seonghwa pats him on the back. “But this will work, trust!” 

“You better be right, Hwa.” 

When he walks into the amphitheater, you are sitting in your usual spot typing away at something on your laptop. You were wearing a green beanie this time, seeing as the weather was getting colder. Hongjoong couldn’t help but swoon a little on the inside at you. You looked like a cute brussel sprout and he just wanted to bite you (but of course in a loving and sweet kind of way.) 

“Hi!” Hongjoong starts. “We talked for a little bit last week… I don’t know if you remember.” He shyly smiles at you. 

Oh, you remembered. He was the same guy who just randomly shouted at you before the class started. He was cute, you’ll admit that. He had a sort of nerdy vibe to him that you usually found cute in a guy. If only it weren’t for the piss poor first impression he pulled. You notice he still had that jittery look in his eyes, the same one he had last week. You didn’t like where this was going. 

“Oh, I remember.” You give him a tight smile. 

“Oh!” he manages to blurt out, albeit very loudly. This startles you and makes you jump a little in your seat. And this also causes a ruckus in the amphitheater causing eyes to look at the interaction between the both of you again. Great, you think. So much for keeping a low profile. 

“My name is Kim Hongjoong. Can I ask you what your name is?” He looks down at you with a hopeful look in his eyes. He really was cute, you think. But you hated all the eyes on you. You wanted this to end as quickly as possible and return to your peace and quiet. But you also didn’t want to embarrass this guy in front of the whole class. So, you do the next best thing. 

“My name is Wendy Lu.” You give him a fake name. 

I mean, what he won’t know won’t kill him right? You get him off your back. He gets to search up some finance major that frequents the cafe that you work at. And in your defense, she was totally cute! She also had a caffeine addiction but you digress. 

“Nice to meet you, Wendy!” Hongjoong rushes off to find his seat at the back of the room with a beaming smile on his face. This Etsy witch Seulgi sure did have her work cut out for her. But I mean, if she could get Seonghwa a girlfriend, she could totally get me one, right? 

“So, her name is Wendy Lu. I came up to her this morning and asked for her name, and she totally smiled at me! I got this one in the bag.” Hongjoong is beaming with glee at Seonghwa. 

They’re walking down a part of town that is a bit of a ways away from their usual path to their dorm but they had to make a detour to go to Seulgi’s physical store to get some supplies. She wrote down some instructions for Hongjoong to follow in his ritual for love spell casting and then they were off on their merry way back to their dorms. Unfortunately, Seonghwa had a 10-page essay he had due that very night to which he was very sorely behind on. 

“Can we go grab some coffee first? Either I’m going to finish this essay or it will finish me.” Seonghwa sighs, a stressed look on his face as he turns to the closest cafe that was on their route. 

That’s when they are greeted with you manning the cash register of the cafe. There’s a line at the cash register because this is usually when the cafe is at its busiest and you don’t even notice them coming in. Hongjoong is trying to contain himself and keep his chill. But he can’t help it if you look so effortlessly beautiful with your hair tied up and in your cute barista apron. The man is basically shooting heart eyes your way but you’re too busy taking orders. 

“My usual, please. To go.” Wendy Lu tries to give you the best smile she can, but it just ends up looking like a twitch on her face. Midterms must be coming up, you concluded. Sucks to be a finance major. One iced americano with 4 espresso shots, coming right up. You finish ringing in her order and give the ticket away for your co-worker to start on her drink. 

“Hello, what can I get for you today?” You bring your head up from the cash register and feel a dread settle into your stomach. It was the guy from earlier. Hongjoong, if you recall correctly. 

“I’ll have a Vanilla latte, and a pistachio bagel please.” Seonghwa replies. 

“Oh, and uhm. I’ll have a Caramel Macchiato with a tuna melt.” Hongjoong adds. 

“Will you have this for dine-in or take-out?” 

“We’ll have it for take-out, please.” 

And as you finish ringing up their orders, you forget one crucial detail that just managed to slip your mind. Wendy Lu. 

“Iced americano for Wendy Lu!” your co-worker, Soobin, shouts. 

Both boys look at you with confused eyes as Wendy Lu grabs her drink from Soobin and rushes off. You try to ignore the tension in the room but Hongjoong blurts out, “I thought you were Wendy Lu?” 

“Well, Wendy is a pretty common name.” You just nervously giggle off and hope he doesn’t press further. 

“Hey, Y/n. Yeonjun needs help rolling out the croissant dough in the kitchen.” Soobin interrupts the awkward conversation. “I’ll finish that up for you, go help him.” 

“Right.” You give them one last glance before walking over to the kitchen. 

And we are back to square one with Hongjoong. Well, not necessarily square one, more like square one and a half. Seonghwa likes to look on the brighter side of things. 

“Hey, at least you know her name! And besides, this ritual thing will still work, so what if she gave you a fake name at first.” Seonghwa tries to console his distraught dorm mate. 

“When you become best man at my wedding, can you leave this part out of your speech please?” Hongjoong just lies on the floor and pouts at him. 

“Oh, the part where you crashed and burned the first time you met your future wife? Sure.” Seonghwa deadpans at his friend. 

“Now, just do the ritual, my guy. I have an essay to write and you have a girl to wife up.” Seonghwa motions for him to get up. 

“Fine.” Hongjoong gets up and goes to get his supplies for the ritual but notices that the instructions for the ritual are gone. He furrows his eyebrows and digs through his things trying to find them but they don’t seem to be anywhere. He asks Seonghwa if he’s seen them anywhere but he claims to not even have held the paper. This confirms a theory he’s had in his head that sends a storm of unease to his stomach. 

He remembers putting his stuff out while waiting for his tuna melt to be heated up. The last time he remembers seeing that pink sheet of paper was at the cafe table. He had to go back to that cafe. He checks the time and it’s around the time that it closes, if he remembers correctly from the door. If he rushes now, he could get to the cafe right before it closes. 

So he rushes out the door yelling out that he was going to the cafe, leaving a very confused Seonghwa to attempt to finish his essay. 

Hongjoong arrives at the cafe on a mission to find that pink-ruled piece of paper that holds the key to his happiness. The cafe is deserted at this point, the door sign says “closed” but he can still see you and your two other co-workers cleaning up the establishment. He gulps.

Here goes nothing. 

He knocks on the door to the shop and points to the locked door. 

You and Soobin shoot each other a look and Soobin walks up to the door.

“So that was lover boy, I assume?” Soobin glances down at you as you wipe down the counters behind the cash register.

“Oh scarf guy?” Yeonjun pipes up. 

“Yeah. Kim Hongjoong.” You tell them. “Guy seems sweet and all but he brings so much attention during class. Made me want to disappear into my seat.” 

“Well, seems like lover boy’s got it bad. He was going to cast a spell on you.” Soobin says trying to imitate a dracula accent. 

“What? No way.” Yeonjun dismisses him. 

“Look. He left it at the table they were at. Even went to that trinket shop down at the corner next to the deli. Poor guy was going to get Wendy Lu to fall head over heels in love with him.” He waves a pink piece of paper around. 

You grab it and look at what’s written down and stare in utter disbelief. Was he really willing to go this far? 

“Man’s a simp if I’ve ever seen one.” Soobin concludes. 

“He just doesn’t know when to give up. I mean, you were pretty straightforward the first time around. Take the L, my guy.” Yeonjun shakes his head. 

“Hmmm, well I thought it was a bit harsh. But he is persistent. I'll give him that.” Soobin shrugs. 

“Ugh, I was too harsh, wasn’t I?” You ask, to no one in particular. But you didn’t mean to be harsh. Being the center of attention was never your favorite thing and it brought out a side of you that had no filter. 

“Are you forgetting the fact that he hired an Etsy witch to make him fall in love with you?” Yeonjun reminds you. 

“Well, I don’t really believe in that kind of stuff. Pink rocks and weird drawings? Be fucking for real.” 

And as luck would have it, a knock on the door stops your discourse. It was Hongjoong. You and Soobin share a look and he goes to tell him that the place is closed but then you stop him. 

“Wait, Soob. I need to talk to him.” You stop Soobin as he reaches for the door knob. 

Hongjoong panics when you see him walk over to the door knob. Oh God, she knows. She’s gonna think I’m some creep! I mean, on paper it does seem creepy that some guy who she’s talked to like thrice has some instructions from some dodgy Etsy witch on how to make her fall in love with him but he swears he means no harm. 

You go over to open the door. 

“Hey, Hongjoong.” You start. You wipe your sweaty hands off using your apron. Confrontation was never your best feat, but it seems like the universe had different plans for the both of you that evening. 

“I think we got off on the wrong foot. I apologize for being kinda harsh to you the first time we talked. You seem like a sweet guy, but you kinda put me on the spot and I was pretty uncomfortable back then….” You explain yourself. 

“O-oh! Well, I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. I never meant to do that I swear! I just, you’re…. Pretty.” He shyly smiles at you. 

This is the first time you are actually able to take a good look at him and you start to notice little details you never did. The slope of his nose, the glasses that frame his face, the dimples that decorate his cheeks, and the one finger he has painted with nail polish. He was kinda cute, you concluded. And as he calls you pretty, you can’t help the heat that rises up your cheeks at his confession. 

“Well, if you wanna, we could do it the old fashioned way. You know, the one where there’s no Etsy witch involved.” You shoot a small smile his way when he starts floundering and trying to come up with a way to explain himself. 

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

Hongjoong walks back to the dorm with a dumb smile on his face. Seonghwa was so totally gonna be his best-man at his wedding. 

[nnnyxie]

Hcs about the Rise boys with a younge rsister who is totally like nimona??

Punk music, always thinking about action, super into manipulating and robbery, whines every time one of the brothers knock out an enemy “how come you got to kill them??” <- an actual line from the movie- And basically yeah lol.

please and thank you so much!! Don’t forget to take breaks and take good care of yourself!!

okay so i haven’t watch nimona yet BUT i will do my absolute best at trying to embody her

(aka i did research and i’m praying it was enough)

raphael ;

your relationship with raph is so !!

you respect him so much— like seriously!!! when they first found you, you were very intimidated by him, which made you dislike him.

but overtime you realized he was just a softy that could get mean when needed.

and honestly?? you respected that.

it’s like with mikey— complete opposites but besties!!

you hold him on such a high pedestal, he’s kind of your idol (strength wise mainly).

he’s always saying ‘remember no killing!’ and ‘you cannot kill that guy for not liking your outfit!’.

he’s the cool older brother and you love him!!

donatello ;

now. you’d think that you and donnie would get along great considering you’re both yk… borderline murderers/psychopaths!

but… y’all fight ALL. THE. TIME.

it’s always over who gets to fight which person and who gets dibs on killing ‘knocking out’ said person.

poor raph ALWAYS has to break up your fights. the fights are to the point where it gets PHYSICAL.

BUUUT!! there are times where the two of you get along.

usually it’s when it’s super late and you both are very sleep deprived and running on 16 cups of coffee!

but hey, a win is a win i guess???

leonardo ;

urgh leo… i feel like this is a very one sided hateship (if that makes sense?).

like, you love hate him and his dumb, corny jokes but he adores you!! he adores his little sister!! he’ll shower you in affection like he does w/ the others!!

all the hugs, head-locks, knuckle rubs (i think that’s what they’re called), etc etc.

he just adores you and really doesn’t care if you want to curb stomp him into oblivion (don’t look up curb stomping, just know that it’s violent).

your relationship with him is almost like his and donnie’s except donnie doesn’t actually want to stab him sometimes.

thoughhhh there are times where you’ll show him some love, whether that’s in the form of not attacking him for a few days or silently laughing at one of his terrible one-liners.

michaelangelo ;

first of all—

you and mikey?? complete opposites but absolute besties!!

i feel like he’d see you try to do some dumb illegal shit but immediately go ‘no no no! let’s not do that!’ and pull you away—

he has to talk you out of a LOOOT of illegal things. like. A LOT.

one time you tried breaking into the empire state and almost killed a guard……… mikey thankfully followed you and stopped you!! (why did you try to break in? i haven’t the slightest clue!)

it just fits!!

you’d lay your life on the line for him!! honestly who wouldn’t??? just because he’s too good for this world doesn’t mean he should leave it!!

plus, you and doctor delicate touch are such a duo when need be.

OMG ALSO!!! i feel like you two would totally vibe to bratmobile, bikini kill, le tigre, jack off jill, & just so many riot grrl (fem led punk) bands!!!

y’all are just THE duo!!!!

pls i hope i got her personality correct dkgsldna

also!!! i hope you liked this :)

[aster-blogging-dracula]

Ok so today's entry is definitely gonna be important for the analysis on how the topic of sexuality (which is one among MANY topics that this novel covers) is explored throughout the story and throughout the concept of vampirism in it.

I wanted to note these things down for myself cause this is a topic that really boils my blood when seeing academic analysis of it but I want to read the full text carefully through Dracula Daily and make a proper personal opinion of it before reading anything else (academia.edu PLEASE stop emailing me things I will crush my head on the wall). (For now, my overall opinion on this topic is that academics focus way too much on making a metaphor out of everything when a lot of things in this story make more sense when analyzed as parallelism, or as a literal part of the plot with no further meaning...)

Anyways. This is the first time in the story when a scene of (almost) vampire feeding is narrated, and the scene that makes Johnathan go "this is it, nowhere is safe". So this kind of settles a first impression on what being preyed upon by a vampire feels like (at the same time it could also serve as reference for when vampire feeding feels WAY differently from today, and therefore can be interpreted differently). We have:

The feeling of seduction of some sorts(EDIT: I should point out that vampire seduction by this time was already, from The Vampyre to Carmilla, along with several folklore, a well established trope). Is Johnathan's initial fear out of an unconscious feeling that they're vampires? Because of their sudden appearance in the otherwise empty room? Because he loathes being disloyal to Mina? Could be a mix, we will never know. But it's interesting to ask oneself these things.

I'm not going to expand on why the description of how the girl approaches Johnathan's neck is erotic, just go read it. I listened to the Re:Dracula entry today and aw lawd that's... The academics win on this one that does sound like a sexual thing good god.

It also sounds quite monstrous tho. The licking of the teeth, the red tongue, is similar to how the wolves were described on may 5th (and later, Dracula's gesture towards the other girls is compared to the one he used with the wolves, This is actually the first direct association between wolves and vampires as a similar being I think)

Dracula's "I too can love" speech and him undressing Johnathan is a whole topic for a different post which I do Not Have The Energy To Make (and that someone out there will probably do better than me today)

Lastly, we have Johnathan's dread at the end. That's a lot of dread wow, even worse than Dracula. Now, of course, a big part of this is due to them being VAMPIRES. WHO WILL KILL HIM. Because this is a vampire story. But it also leads us to other questions. Could this dread also be a dread of the desire he felt? Because of loyalty to Mina or because of the dominant stance the vampiresses took (which was Inappropriate in victoriam standards)?. These are the questions academics usually explore. There's also the less "This symbolizes That" approach which takes the fact that vampires=dreadful because of plot reasons, and draws the conclusion that making such a dreadful creature have a sexual attitude, said attitude is demonized. Additionally, in the Dracula Daily fandom, there are also people noticing how his dread is akin to the feelings of an SA victim. (Which leads us to the question of How Did Bram Know That?)

In any case. One thing is clear. They're vampires. They want his blood. Poor boy has been sleep deprived, questioning his sanity, and being manipulated by his employer for more than a week now. His employer who has just saved him from getting eaten. That's a shock. That's a big fucking shock alright.

[skzcollision]

take the breath that's true | lee felix (1/2)

pairing: non-idol!lee felix x fem!reader

content info + tw: time travel, angst, fluff, felix is called yongbok in this, wrote this when i was sleep deprived lol, violence + bullying

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

It had begun as a small lie, really. A lie so good, you believed it yourself.

"I'm taking a semester off."

You would be doing a paid internship to fill that time, so it's not like you're not doing anything because god forbid you take a break from your studies to backpack through Europe or something so useless. Your parents would have a stroke.

And then, you did the unthinkable.

You dropped out of university.

Got a full-time job at a bookstore. Began living life peacefully, all the while deceiving your parents who lived a few hours away.

The liberation you felt by doing this was nothing you had ever experienced before.

Of course, it had its drawbacks. You were practically living a lie. Because you dropped out of school, you no longer saw your friends every day. They often hung out without you, and over the years, you eventually turned into something of a social recluse.

You had one good friend from work who invited you to go out every once in a while. Each time you declined because blowing out your eardrums whilst standing in a room packed with strangers either drunk or high on something never really appealed to you.

Soon enough, you reached a place of discontentment.

Would your life have turned out any better if you pushed through with school?

That was something you wondered about every single day.

"Are you eating well?"

The line fell silent, save for the distant sounds of your mother chopping up something on her cutting board. You could hear something boiling on the stove.

You stared blankly at the bowl of instant noodles by your sink.

"Yes."

Another small lie amongst all other lies.

"You sure?" She pressed, disbelief evident in her voice. "Why don't I come over there sometime, fix you up a proper meal-"

"No. Mom, you don't have to do that. It'll just be a waste of gas, I'll be really busy these upcoming weeks."

"Well, when is your break? It's been a while since you've last visited us, you know. Your poor father has been wanting to see you, he misses you."

Your mother knew just how to pull at your heartstrings.

"I know, I miss you guys too. I'll visit on my birthday, okay? In a couple of months, I promise."

Seven years ago;

They were at it again. The three biggest pompous assholes of your grade.

This time, it was this short, lanky kid. You recognized him from homeroom.

Your eyes flitted to his so-called friends, turning away sheepishly when he looked to them for help. Just one moment ago, they were all at their table, talking and laughing.

Why was no one doing anything?

Just as you were lifting yourself from your seat to inform a teacher - someone, anyone - another boy stepped in front of the smaller one.

The bullies were blocking him from your line of sight, but you could see that he wasn't much taller than the former. They were still towering over him.

"Isn't that Yongbok?" The girl behind you whispered to her friend. "He does taekwondo, right?

"Yeah... but there are three of them. And they're double his size."

You promptly slid out of your seat, gripping onto your metal lunch tray. Your friends glanced at you in a snap, all visibly concerned. "What are you doing?"

"I'm just..." You didn't get to finish your sentence as you neared the guys. Not that you knew the answer to that anyway. You were acting on pure impulse.

Now you could fully hear what they were saying.

"Rich guy, huh?"

They were apparently laughing at the boy's choice of accessories. He wore a gold watch on his wrist. It did look quite funny on him - only because it seemed a bit too big and grown up for the boy.

Something did surprise you, though.

If he was intimidated, he was great at hiding it. It was as if they were all having a normal and friendly conversation. On the other hand, the kid behind him was close to wetting his pants.

"So, if you're done talking to my friend, we would like to have our lunch now."

This did nothing to defuse the situation.

"What did you just say?"

Sweat pooled between the palms of your hands, the utensils clattering as they shook in your tray.

Your mind flashed to the first week of school. That kid, who got beaten up so badly he was coughing up blood.

Was this just going to keep on happening?

Without much thought behind it, you drew your arms back and flung your tray at them as hard as you could.

It made an audible plunk as it collided with the back of their leader's head.

There was momentary silence before the cafeteria exploded with stunned gasps and sputters of laughter. You remained frozen at your spot, arms still above your head. Your lunch was now on his white shirt, staining it orange.

"Who the hell-"

Everyone in the room was staring at you. Your gaze fell to the boy with the gold watch. He looked afraid now.

But not for himself.

You were so, damn lucky.

One second, you were receiving the deadliest stare from the scariest guy at school, and the next, a teacher had come to break them up.

For the next few days, you went everywhere with your friends. Needed to use the restroom? Needed to grab something from your locker? The whole group was coming with you.

You had never once been so scared for your life.

One afternoon, one of your friends had overheard the bullies talking. They were teasing their leader for letting you off the hook so easily. He apparently refused to bully a girl - a cute one at that.

"Oh my god, ew. Unbelievable." You shook your head with an expression of disgust. "There's no way. You made that last part up."

"He really said that!"

Your friend next to you released a wistful sigh, pursing her lips. "I wish someone would fall in love with me right after I'd just chucked a full tray of food at them, too..."

Things weren't so easy for gold watch boy, though.

He became their target. And he made it so easy for them, too. Every time any of them had a problem with anyone, he would be there, at their rescue. Taking their place. He didn't fight back either.

You just didn't get it.

How could someone possibly endure that much? That had to have taken a physical and mental toll on him. Yet you would see him in the hallways every single day, with that same bright smile. Despite the cut on his lip.

They kept getting interrupted on school grounds, so the bullies had made it routine to take him somewhere after school. You decided to follow them one day, and you were led to an alleyway just a couple blocks away from school.

Why didn't he just run away? You had seen him on the track. He was one of the fastest in your grade.

"... just not on my face, guys."

You ran and snuck up behind some stairs, peeking over the railing.

Whatever he had said earned him some scoffs.

"Pretty boy doesn't want his face ruined."

"What a vain little shit."

Yongbok blinked widely, almost innocently - as if it was all just one little misunderstanding.

"Oh, it's not like that at all. It's just my mom... I don't want her to know about any of this."

"Alright," the biggest of them all chuckled, lip curling smugly.

Your heart twisted in anger.

"We can have that arranged for you," he ambled towards the boy.

"Sike!"

His body turned, and his foot suddenly shot up out of nowhere.

You winced with your entire self as the boy stumbled back, holding himself up against the brick wall.

"Shit..."

From your angle, you couldn't tell what exactly happened. But you knew you had to do something before the situation escalated.

You could swear your whole life flashed before your eyes as you sped towards them, yelling. "Stop!"

"The hell?"

"It's that bitch that threw the tray!"

You stopped just a few feet from them, your thoughts racing a mile a minute. A deep sense of regret - then anger, at these stupid bullies, and at yourself for not knowing what to do next and just charging at them like an idiot.

Someone then yanked on your wrist, ending your train of thought. You were forced to move on your feet again as Yongbok dragged you with him through the alleyways. Several voices followed, hollering at you - but you couldn't register anything they were saying as you were focused solely on getting away.

It felt like it had gone on forever. Fortunately, you had run into some policemen, and that managed to scare the guys away.

You now sat at a convenience store, icing Yongbok's jaw where a bruise was starting to form.

"Man, what am I going to do about this?" He clicked his tongue as he stared at his reflection. "This isn't gonna go unnoticed - and I'm running out of excuses."

You were brimming with anger once again.

"Why do you let them do that to you?"

He stared at you, dumbfounded.

"If they don't pick on me, they'll just pick on someone else."

He had said it so plainly and simply. It was mind-boggling. You genuinely could not tell if he was the bravest and most selfless person you had ever met or just an idiot. Somehow, you felt he was both.

You walked away momentarily to pick up something from the cosmetics aisle, paid for it and went to sit back down again.

"So..." You began as you gently dabbed some coverup on the bruise. "You think this makes you like some sort of hero then?"

"Hadn't thought about it that way," his eyes darted across your face absentmindedly. "I'm sorry I didn't get to thank you, for the other day. In the cafeteria."

You waved him off, cleaning your finger on a piece of napkin. "You take their hits on purpose, don't you. I can tell."

He bobbed his head, looking down at his shoes.

"And you dodge some so you don't end up seriously injured."

You sighed through your nose in exasperation. "Why haven't you reported them?"

"You don't know, do you?" He gazed out the window. "Nothing will be done about it. One of them - his father donates large sums of money to the school."

"Doesn't make him untouchable."

"It kind of does."

You hated it. That deep down, you knew he was right.

Yongbok slid a packet of ice cream towards you. "Here," he grinned. "For saving me from the bullies, twice."

Present;

On the ride home, the car passed by your old high school. It did - every time you came back.

And you were always left wondering what ever happened to that freckled boy since you last saw him.

If he was happy, and if he was doing better than you now. You hoped so.

It was comforting how much had remained the same, as if you had never left - a time machine in a way.

You longed to go back.

To the summer before you began your first year in university. The last time you were ever truly happy.

Despite it being the night before your actual birthday, your parents had thrown an event for you. So many people had shown up - neighbors, old friends from high school that stayed back.

It felt very reminiscent of the past when everyone would get together, and you slept that night content for the first time in a very long time. You dreamt of your life before, how those warm memories felt closer than ever now that you were here.

Such happiness...

"Wake up, my precious girl~"

A grin was spreading across your face before you could even fully open your eyes. You ignored the ache behind them as the sun greeted you first thing.

Your mother smiled kindly back at you, her fingers gently combing through your bedhead.

"Mom..."

"Hm?"

"Can't I stay here..." You mumbled. "Stay here forever?"

She laughed softly, and your smile grew at the sound. "Don't you want to see your friends today? They must have something planned for you."

"My friends?" You rubbed at your eyes, still disoriented from sleep.

"C'mon," she stood, patting your leg. "Let's get up. I've prepared breakfast."

With your eyes half-shut, you felt your way out of the room and sat yourself on a wooden chair.

Your mother settled a bowl of soup in front of you on the table. "Happy birthday, sweetie..."

"I have something for you." Excitement shone in your father's eyes as he pushed a dark blue box towards you.

He didn't... again?

"Dad, you don't need to get such expensive gifts."

He chuckled heartily. "Can't I get something nice for my only daughter just this once?"

You flipped the lid open and grew puzzled at what was inside. It was a simple, silver necklace with a round diamond pendant. The one you wore every single day.

The one your father gifted you a few years back. It was the first time he had spent so much on a present.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes, but dad - isn't it..."

Everything felt eerily familiar.

You shot up from your chair, and headed back to your room.

"What's wrong?"

You searched for the necklace on your nightstand where you had placed it last night, then on the floor, if it had fallen by any chance.

It wasn't there.

As you rose to your feet, your eyes caught the screen of your phone.

What? It couldn't be right. Yesterday was Friday... so shouldn't it be Saturday?

"You guys aren't... playing some sort of prank on me, are you?"

Your parents glanced at each other with momentary confusion, then back to where you stood in the hall.

"Are you that surprised with my gift?" Your father laughed, then beckoned you over. "Come on, you can put it on now. Then we can eat."

It was happening again - all of it.

The things your parents said at breakfast, you wouldn't have been able to recall it but now that it was in front of you all over again, there was no doubt about it.

Everything was the exact same.

You looked in the mirror and had bangs again.

Your phone was blowing up with the same messages from your friends in that old group chat.

This only meant one thing.

He was still here.

⭒

[kazucee]

Solangelo: and how they feel about cute couple stuff (Pt. 1)

Hand holding

Ok Will is definitely on board for holding hands whenever and wherever, because it just shows everyone that the two of them are together and in a relationship. Will isn't easily jealous and all that but whenever he gets the chance he will shove it in everyone's face that he is dating THE Nico Di Angelo 😭. (But of course our respectful sunshine solace will only hold hands if the other party is ok with it. So it'll start like grabbing Nico's pinky or smth and if the other pulls away then he'd respect that. If not then he'd interlace their fingers together and smile like an absolute loser.)

Nico :((( ok I think anything PDA in general he isn't really on board with (y'all know why already) and he probably feels guilty whenever he pulls away from Will and HDIDBFIEJ MY POOR BOY TT. but don't worry he makes up for that in private. But when he gains confidence he definitely would agree to holding hands whenever they're with a small group of people. (Will almost died once because he actually initiated the hand holding.)

Cuddling

If there's one thing Will loves after a long day of working and healing it's definitely cuddling. He's super clingy especially when he's sleep deprived and tired. Will literally just jump in the other's arms as soon as he has a break from the clinic (coffee who? You only need your cute emo boyfriend in this life). Sometimes it's just quiet between the two of them, like a peaceful kind of silence. Sometimes they talk about each other's days, and random topics that come into mind. But it always manages to give Will his energy back. Neck, he definitely like snuggling into the others neck the most and giving it small soft kisses. (AGHHDHSHEHS we love the touch starved idiots)

Nico, yes yes and yes to cuddling. Though he likes to deny it everytime the other teases him about it. He likes the fact that he's the first person Will goes to too seek energy. Clingy Will is his favorite (don't tell Will that though). He likes putting his arms around the blonde like he's protecting him, and he's always super gentle. Also yes combing the others unruly mess of blonde hair. I feel like he realizes how much he likes this man during one of their cuddle session, it's just Will acting clingy and complaining about the Stolls once more and it just clicks to Nico that 'oh wow I want to spend the rest of my life with this person.'

Borrowing each other's clothes.

Oh you can't do that to poor Will without a warning, he'd just see Nico in his shirt or hoodie and then he's reduced to a coughing mess. Though he tries (and fails) to act cool about it. Seeing Nico in his clothes makes his heart melt and his mood brighten. Like they could be having a fight or squabble, and Nico would be wearing his hoodie and the only thing Will could focus on is that. 'oh my Gods he's wearing my hoodie', 'why does he look good?!' 'no you should be mad at him' 'put your mad face on damnit!' 'oh fudje it'.

Ok but Nico knows wearing the other's clothes drives the blonde to the bring of Insanity. That's why he does it. He'll play innocent of course as if he doesn't know the effect it has on his boyfriend TT. He picks the biggest ones because they're the most comfiest and warm. Props because it smells like Will too. Nico 'wears Wills oversized hoodies to fuck with him' Di Angelo. Oh but Will does borrow Nico's band t-shirts, the tables are definitely turned and now he's the flustered mess.

Forehead kisses

Yes. He's tall. Nico's short. He loves this so much. He loves that Nico is the perfect height to give forehead kisses too. Yes it's to show his affection but it's also him teasing the other boy in a way. At random times of the day when there aren't many campers around he'd just give Nico forehead kisses randomly, and the other is always an angry flustered mess after them. But maybe like a few years into their relationship Nick gets used to it, to the point that when Will does that he just gives him a look and continues to talk about whatever he was saying before he was so *rudely* interrupted. My guys not even surprised anymore.

Nico giving forehead kisses when they cuddle. Because Will being the big baby he is always in need of affection. So yes kisses for you. I have nothing to say except for the fact that Nico definitely brushes Wills bangs upwards to give him proper forehead kisses. 'its called forehead kisses not hair kisses Solace!'

Ok. I'm gonna stop here because I'm writting this as I walk to the dentist. Pt 2. Soon if this part blows up, or not because I love talking about my sun and star couple so much.

[serenescribe]

I'm happy that the reverse containment breach au was received well! So I figured why not give the people a taste of the original reverse CB? (or maybe to them its reverse reverse CB? lol) Subject Lilia cannot sleep due to horrible substitutions to his usual diet and so- in a fit of desperation one night- uses what little power he has to force whoever is on night watch to come to his enclosure. However... he won't believe who wanders in ;)

[✐] ficlet frenzy

When the door slides open, Lilia licks his lips, his trademark grin splitting his face. The remnants of his lingering powers had worked, just enough strength left to coax whichever poor soul was on the night shift to open the door and step inside. Now, all they have to do is come on over and allow Lilia to feed from them, granting him enough strength to break out of here and find his—

Lilia looks up, and immediately freezes.

“Little one,” he breathes, the nickname tumbling from his tongue at once.

Silver stands in the doorway, swaying slightly, one hand wrapped around the jamb. His eyes are glazed over, dulled under the thrall of Lilia’s influence. For what feels like an eternity, Lilia merely stares, his eyes blown wide, and it isn’t until Silver begins to stagger over that he snaps out of his stupor.

“Come, come,” he coaxes, and his dearest boy does. Silver stumbles over, drops to his knees — oh, how much taller he is! How long has it been since Lilia last saw his beloved child? Not since he was eleven cycles, not since that fateful day, and, at Lilia’s wave of a hand, Silver collapses into his lap. There, he lays limply, eyes fluttering the slightest bit as Lilia rakes his blunted nails through his hair — and Lilia cannot help the way his face contorts at the sight of platinum blond locks, the lingering bits of silver only evident in the tips of his son’s hair. Silver has not had his father’s blood in him for a long time — long enough that his natural roots have come in, and it only serves to make Lilia recoil at the knowledge that they have been separated for far too long.

Well, he thinks, as he raises his other hand to his mouth, baring his fangs. That will simply have to be fixed.

With his sharp teeth, Lilia slices a jagged cut right down his palm. Candy red blood oozes out, thick like honey, and Lilia wrinkles his nose at it. His blood has taken on a thicker viscosity, it seems; being deprived of his natural food sources will do that to him. Still, he cannot afford to be picky. As he presses his palm towards Silver, he urges him to drink — and Silver, obedient and compliant under Lilia’s shaky hold, obliges.

As Silver laps at the blood and it enters his system…

A shudder ripples right through Lilia, a dormant sense stirring awake.

It has been so long since he’s been able to sense this — their emotional bond, forged anew, Lilia able to sense every little bit of emotion that his dearest child feels. It settles within his chest like a second heart, their souls intertwined, and Lilia cannot help but preen at the sight of silver streaks running through blond hair, his natural colour returning to its rightful place.

And as for what Lilia is able to see, parsing through hazy memories and scattered emotions…

“Oh, little one,” he murmurs, leaning over Silver and pulling him closer, wrapping his arms around his dearest child — no longer young, but forever his. “What have they put you through? You should never have gone through such dismal suffering.”

He stops and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “But you are here now,” Lilia says, a certainty entering his words. “And here you will stay.

“Your father shall not let them separate us again.”

[lunyxdragon]

Dragons Rising Rant

I WAS NOT READY for season 2 part 1

(I'm spoiling pretty much everything below the cut)

This was everything I wanted and more (not to say it doesn't have its issues, but still)

I know some people were grumbling about Lloyd taking Zane's role of being the vision haver but I honestly like how they handled it. Because it feels an awful lot like a PTSD allegory. Like, Arin is literally like "you've been through a lot, maybe it's catching up to you" or smthn like that, the visions showing up at random and inconvenient times during the day, being unavoidable but they can be lived with, panic attacks, so am I the only one seeing this??? This does some interesting things to my Lloyd PTSD headcanons... another thing is the two people that have had visions are the two most likely people to have PTSD imo, so... there's that...

Lloyd verbally acknowledges having panic attacks which caught me so off guard for a show to sell toys to eight year old boys. It wasn't like puss and boots level of panic attacks, definitely not given that much focus, but it was there. Lloyd canonically has panic attacks!!

I know it's a kid's show, but I feel like they could have handled the sleep deprivation a bit better than "Lloyd is falling asleep all the time," like there's so many other ways you could convey that, at least vary it a bit. They hammer this point into the ground and I feel like kids aren't that dense, and would understand it even with half of the random falling asleep replaced with irritability, zoning out, or other stuff like that idk.

I WAS NOT READY for Kai to get sacrificed. When they were talking about human sacrifices I was like "nah ninjago would never go that far, that pretty much confirms that either the sacrifices aren't actually necessary or the forbidden five don't get brought back," then Kai literally gets sent to the backrooms with no way out.

And Bonzle. BONZLE. Need I say more? Wish she had gotten more focus though. The sorceress felt like a d&d oc shoved in last minute though, and her design was so chaotic it was distracting from the show for me. Probably just me though, I like order. She's fun, I just wish they'd either given her an arc or given that focus to Bonzle.

Internally screaming when Nya says "Jay would never forget me" and when Jay showed up. I really hope they give him enough time to shine.

Ras literally runs and catches up to a moving car and knocks out a dragon in a single hit. Bros insane. I guess the blood moon just makes him physically stronger? They didn't really elaborate what the blood moon does to Ras and why. But he's an actually competent villain, which Ninjago is in short supply of.

Cole literally said "Come at me (bro)" to the Administration.

Speaking of Cole, Geo misses him!! I'm way overhyped for this couple, but this is the closest thing we'll get to a canon gay couple in ninjago. Lego doesn't have the balls to actually show them kissing or being a couple, not with their show that gets aired all over the world to sell legos. I'm gonna go rewatch the land of lost things episode from s1 later.

The timeline is even more messed up now though. If Cole only just returned, when were the Mech Pilot shorts supposed to happen? We'll see what the creators say on Twitter lol.

Ending this off on a positive note, the found family is gonna kill me. Arin literally seeing Lloyd and Nya as his parents was gold. Oh man Ras slammed the poor boy around a lot, physically and mentally. Just let both Arin and Sora realize they're not useless. Nahhh the angst is too good.

Is there more? Probably. But I need to do my calculus coursework...

[thereaderinsertlady]

🎃 meta knight x reader nsfw, get creative 😳😳😳

Ofc!! I ceeertainly did get creative lmao. No inherent smut, but is somewhat implied! Also also, the spelling mistakes in the text messages are all on purpose! Here's the link on ao3, and I hope you enjoy!

Meta Knight x Reader - Can't Sleep? (Semi-NSFW)

It was incredibly late at night.

And you still couldn’t sleep.

You glared at the ceiling of your bedroom, finished with shifting around to find new ways to become more comfortable. No matter what you did, you just couldn’t go to sleep. And it was annoying the fuck out of you.

“Ugh…” You rubbed your face, leaning over to grab your phone to squint at the time. It was three in the morning. “Lovely…”

After a moment, you opened up the messaging app, staring blankly at it. You were bored, and likely weren’t going to go to sleep… Would anyone else be awake right now? Would your boyfriend be awake?

You slightly giggled to yourself while beginning to write a message to him, half delirious from sleep deprivation.

You: Hey, are you awake?

You stared at the screen… and stared… and stared… before eventually pouting. Oookay, it seems like Meta Knight was not awake.

Clicking off the messaging app, you instead went to play a mobile game to busy your mind, having nothing better to do.

As you immersed yourself in the mobile game, the minutes seemed to drag on. The glow from the screen illuminated your face, casting a bluish tint across the room. Your mind was still buzzing, refusing to succumb to the beckoning of sleep.

Just as you were engrossed in a particularly challenging part of the game, a soft chime signaled an incoming message. Startled, you quickly switched back to the messaging app to see who had messaged you.

Knighty-Knight: Can’t sleep?

You groaned, looking at the nickname you had set for him– and totally didn’t forget you had put him as that. You took a moment to respond, not bothering to put apostrophes or periods at the end of the message. Auto correct can be annoying, so you turned it off for the messaging app.

You: Nooo, I couldnt and I dont know why either. I had a busy day. I did stuffs. All things considered I should be tired

You: Also, what took you forever to respond?

Knighty-Knight: I was doing something. And, perhaps you need to wear yourself some other way.

You: busy doin what.? Playing with yourself?

When it took him a while to respond, you giggled to yourself. 

You: You usually aren’t up this laaate

Knighty-Knight: I was fixing up my armor. 

You: why Did it need fixing up

Knighty-Knight: Sparring got a little too intense and ran later than it usually does.

You lowered your bottom lip, feeling bad for Kirby. The poor boy needed some rest– Meta Knight has been running him dry lately.

You: You need to take that boy to an ice cream parlur 

You: parlor? However its spelt

Knighty-Knight: Parlor. 

As you continued your conversation with Meta Knight, the late-night banter brought a playful element to your otherwise sleep-deprived state. Despite your exhaustion, you couldn't help but smile at his responses.

Knighty-Knight: You really need to sleep. 

You: i caaant. I really cant. It

You: oops sent that early- it sucks that i cant go to sleep like a normal person.

Knighty-Knight: It’s four in the morning. I’ve been talking with you for nearly an hour. We need to find a way to get you to go to sleep.

You: Aren’t you sleeby? Dont you have to wake up at like five?

Knighty-Knight: Yes & yes.

You made a face, feeling guilty for making him stay up like this. If you had known that he was getting ready to rest for the night, you wouldn’t have messaged him.

You: Go beeeed. I shouldn't have texted you

Knighty-Knight: I was waiting for you to use an apostrophe. 

Knighty-Knight: …But, I was having sleeping difficulties too. I’m so tired, but I can't sleep. Besides, you didn’t bother me any. I was finishing patching up my armor.

You: Maybe there’s something we both can do to wear ourselves out?

You stared at the wall thoughtfully, wondering what you and him could do while so far away. You doubted he’d come over to your place when it’s so late and cold outside…

Knighty-Knight: Did you have anything in mind?

You: uhhh

You: sexting

Knighty-Knight: You’re horny right now?

…Slowly, you pouted deeply, now embarrassed. 

You: Well i coould be horny if we seeexted

Knighty-Knight: How

Knighty-Knight: How does one sext?

You made a high-pitched noise, squirming around like a worm while a deep sense of embarrassment pierced your soul. After a second longer you took in a breath, steadying your mental fortitude. 

You: Ooh you’re so sexy and i bet you have a fat cock

You stared at the message before whining. “Oh my gooosh I– I’m never going to look him in the eyes ever again.”

He took a long while to respond, the three dots disappearing and reappearing every so often. Eventually, he sent a text back.

Knighty-Knight: You’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. If I could, I’d meet you a thousand times over just so we can make new memories.

“Aww.” You lowered your bottom lip, rereading his message a few times. It wasn’t really sexting, but it was very thoughtful. Though, when you glanced back up at your message, you busted out laughing. Oh, you had such a way with words at four in the morning.

You: I love you too. 

There was a long pause– to the point where you thought he had finally gone asleep. Though, after a while longer, the three dots showed up at the bottom once more.

Knighty-Knight: What’s the point of sexting?

You: To… get horny and masturbate ig

Knighty-Knight: I was supposed to be masturbating this entire time?? Were you masturbating?

Laughter bubbled up in your throat once again. You’ve only had sex with Meta Knight once or twice, but he was always such a bean when it came to things of that manner. 

You: Noo, I was am not masturbating 

You smiled, rereading the last few messages and feeling relatively light and happy. 

You: I dont think this sexting this is gunna work. Ik you gotta get up early but do you wanna come over and help me go to sleep?

There was a long bout of silence in the textual conversation, and you began to get slightly nervous and guilty. Maaaybe you shouldn’t have asked that of him. And, it sounded just a little sexual– you highly doubted he wanted to have sex with you, then go straight to work right after since it would be right about five in the morning by that point.

Just as you were about to text him back, he responded.

Knighty-Knight: Of course. Give me ten minutes.

[takami-rising]

tempore pluvarium: part ii ☀︎

tempore pluvarium

➳ at the time of the rains

part i

character: rengoku kyojuro x reader notes: i have a final part fleshed out but will i ever write it? only time will tell genre: fluff to angst warnings: implied emotional abuse (shinjuro), self-deprecating thoughts ambience: rain (yt) | music (spotify) (play simultaneously for the ultimate reading experience) preview: Kyojuro picks a fallen leaf from your hair. The complexions of the trees seem to be slowly returning, spring should be here soon. He should wish to visit the blossoms with you this year. No doubt their beauty will flourish with you under them. He smiles at the thought, so brightly his eyes close as he apologizes for worrying you.

He wears his father's haori now, heavy, burdened with responsibility, flames that singes skin with every breath of the wind and eats away at his bones. The assignments are unforgiving as they keep him from home for months on end, wishing deeply to ignore the bristling of his heart when exiting their family's gate, not knowing if that will be the last. Finding solace in the people that thank him along the way, the Wisteria families that so selfessly take him into their care, feed him and tend to his wounds. What tales the scars on his body could tell, but he utters not a word. It is simply his duty. The weight his to shoulder. But nothing nurtures his heart like home.

It is harder now than ever to face his darling younger brother when Kyojuro returns. To look into Senjuro's eyes and glimpse the lingering pain, how desperate the young boy is to catch up and make up for what he thinks he lacks. Works his small body to the bone in chores and housework, swings the bokuto beyond any limits in a way no child ever should. All in the hopes that one day their father may find his way back to them. But the results never fester. Shinjuro strays further into the dark day by day. It breaks Kyojuro's heart, not only as an older brother, but as Senjuro's teacher too, every time he is obligated to let the poor boy down. Kyojuro would shield his baby brother from any harm or harsh realities the world has to offer, let his back crack and bleed for the slightest chance to see Senjuro smile. But he will not lie with the promise of false hope. All the new Flame Pillar can do is share the boy's pain so that his spine does not snap.

He hardly sees you anymore. Yet you greet him as if he'd never left at all, holds his hand and tell him of your day while your thumb paints deep, languid strokes between his knuckles. He barely even notices the tension leaving his palm, skin tingling, vibrating, once you so rudely deprive him of your touch to exchange the gauze on his cheek, absent of any prying questions. You never ask why he is always stained in blood, why his skin is painted in more scars than seamless, flat strokes. It makes it so easy to forget that he has to leave you to disappear back into the shadows of the night once more so that people can live without worry - so you can live without worry.

You caress the bruising around the tender wound and reprimand him for being so reckless all the time.

"You'll worry your poor brother!" You exclaim, eyes so serious it has your eyebrows pushing together in a slight frown.

Kyojuro picks a fallen leaf from your hair. The colors of the trees seem to be slowly returning, spring should be here soon. He should wish to visit the blossoms with you this year. No doubt their beauty will flourish with you under them. He smiles at the thought, so brightly his eyes close as he apologizes for worrying you.

The thought settles in his heart as surely as the sun sets each day, grows from a silly fantasy on drudging days to a wish much stronger than he's ever felt before. He imagines returning to your sleeping form each night, enveloped in your warmth, to be the first one your lovely eyes gaze at when you awake, to kiss your lips...

He speaks of you before even realizing. Tells his father of the joy you bring to his day and hopes so dearly that Shinjuro listens as Kyojuro declares how often his thoughts seem to wander to you at the end of each one. A decade of stolen moments that has tied your souls together no doubt for this very moment.

Kyojuro takes a deep breath. "Forgive me, father, for the delicate subject, I mean no disrespect, but... is this how you felt with mother?"

The tremor that shocks the retired Hashira back to awareness is near violent. A growl stuck in his throat, his voice raspy with warning as he speaks. "Get out."

"But, father, I-" Kyojuro persists, a force in his chest that pulls him forward, almost tilts him off the back of his feet. "I do believe they would make a wonderful spouse! A great addition to the family!"

Senjuro has already taken a liken to you. Kyojuro chuckles fondly at the memory of the day you spent with the boy in the kitchen. His brother is a stubborn kid, refused to let you do all the cooking by yourself when he was already so familiar with the area. You had finally agreed to let him help on the condition that he let you prepare the desert, insiting that the recipe was much too intricate. Senjuro persisted to assist you anyway, sneaking peeks over your shoulder in the attempt to ease your burden when you both crashed into each other. Kyojuro doesn't believe he has ever seen his little brother covered in so much flour. Coated from head to toe in the white powder, but the laugh in his voice was loud and carefree, a child's, as you cleaned his face, berating the boy with the sternest voice you could muster, but the giggle slipped past your lips very much despite your efforts. A memory worth cherishing.

"I should only hope I would have your blessing too."

There's a beat of silence. "Do whatever you want."

The breath Kyojuro has been holding escapes in a soft sigh of restrained disappointment. It is not the response he wanted, but Kyojuro cannot deny that it is not the one he expected. "So... so, you approve, father?"

"If you think you can convince their father you aren't completely worhtless, go ahead. I don't care. It won't matter anyway."

The evening is pitiless and cold. Rain falls without end, the sky's full moon unable to conquer the clouds that swallows its gleam. Kyojuro, unable to battle racing of his heart, stands in your door dressed in one of his finest haori hakama, unusually stoic and quiet. Fingers twitch and shudder as you hurriedly take his umbrella with a fleeting touch, his own anticipation has him enter your home on trembling legs, flames incessant as they roar in the pit of his stomach.

You'd think him mad for daring outside in this weather, nearly do scold him that nothing could possibly be so dire to risk an illness when he proclaims of his audience with your father in a faltering voice. There is not a sliver of doubt of his intentions. Your stomach flips, heart launching into your throat.

You fight your sister for the spot near the small creak in the sliding frame, careful not to make any noise as your ear press against the shoji. You're so desperate to hear, to still your quickening heart in anticipation. For so long, you've...

Your sister reaches out to push you over in her curiosity and it is up to your mother to drag the two of you away as she berates you both for trying to listen in on your father's private matters. Your older brother only shakes his head at how flustered you seem.

All Kyojuro hears is his own heartbeat, it's fast, hot. He cannot even fully asses if his own words are comprehensible as he put his head to the floor and humbly asks for your hand in marriage.

Your father is not surprised. The courtship between the two of you evolved as naturally as the coming seasons, made it near impossible to oppose when seing how happy this young man made you. He has always had a soft spot for his children, your dear father, takes great pride in the fine, young people you are all becoming. Spoils your sister to her heart's content. Your elder brother already a respectable, young man, evidence of your father's teachings and upbringing. A much desired bachelor as the next head of your family. But you... the need to protect you comes in surges. How could it not? After what you went through, and at such a young age, his leg a daily reminder that he would do anything to ensure the joy in your voice, the smile on your lips. Even if it means to hurt your heart in the present for the sake of your secured future.

Kyojuro perceives the hesitation in your father's pondering. It screams at him,leaves a ringing in his ear. Every muscle in the Hashira's body tenses, has his fingers carving into the tatami floors.

"No."

The force of which his heart shatters against his ribcage shoves him to the floor, the pieces rising in his throat like bile. Kyojuro swallows it. It's hard to breathe, the room spinning as he struggles to rise from his dogeza in any graceful way or form.

"S-sir, if I may just explain my intentions," Kyojuro clears his throat carefully. "I-I hold them very dear in my heart. I can think of no grater honor than to spend the rest of my days by their side, to be their protector, the guardian of their happiness."

"There is no need to elaborate, Rengoku-san. Your intentions are quite clear, but my answer remains unwavered."

Kyojuro finds himself grasping at straws, drives his fists into the fabrics of his hakama as his chest expands. "If I have done anything to offend you or your family, I deeply apologize, it was not my intention. Please, allow me to recitfy-"

Your father gives a deep sigh and repositions himself behind his desk. Kyojuro knows then that there is nothing to be done. No words may sway your father's mind.

"You were there when I lost my leg," he speaks in solemn. "Do you remember, Kyojuro? You willed yourself to comfort my child at your father's request. For that I am truly grateful, but do you recall the horror in their eyes?"

Kyojuro forces the memory to the front of his mind, buried beneath a decade of horrid images and nightmares come to life. His jaw clenches. "Sir, you have my word that I will never let anything happen to them! As a Hashira, I can keep them safe!"

Your father's tone drops. "I have witnessed the toll your line of work has taken on your father. How determined he is to lose his way, how he treats his own children. He is not the man he once was. I will not succumb my child to such uncertain misery."

Kyojuro sits frozen.

"You may try to convince me otherwise, but you are still your father's son."

His lips part. The sun in his eyes seem eclipsed, his sight blurry and unfocused. It is meaningless to dwell on things beyond your control, meaningless to feel inferior. As long as your heart is true, nothing will be out of reach. But, your limitations are set at birth. It won't matter anyway. It doesn't, it never did. It never will. You never will amount to anything, you stupid, worhtless, good-for-nothing-

"Rengoku-san, I have given my answer. You may go."

It nearly shatters. This perfectly fabricated mask he wears. Broken pieces of porcelain spills in his hands by the cracks of his suntanned skin. Legs heavy with lead, steps slow and unsteady as he drags himself to the shoji. He prepares himself. Your eyes are so big on the other side, filled with a hope that drains by the second. You speak in quiet confusion but he hears nothing, stands frozen into place before your shove pass him. There's desperation in your touch, fear. He won't look at you, refuses to remember your features distorted in such horrid expressions. He won't look, he won't look until you declare your love for him to your father with a bleeding heart.

Your fathers knows, can nearly see the cavity in your chest where your heart is being ripped out where you stand. "It is my mistake for not stopping this sooner."

The house is in disarray as you call for your mother and beg her to change your stubborn father's mind. You demand to know why, if it is out of pride or station. Surely, that cannot be it. Kyojuro is a good man, you insist, comes from a good family, your voice laced with anger before the hurt sets in. Tears that are squeezed out of the corner of your eyes escape despite the effort you put into forcing them back when your father simply forbids you to see him anymore.

Kyojuro has to leave, cannot stand the sound of your voice as it cracks beyond recognition.

The thought of a life without you strikes him like thunder on a stormy night, carves through skin to dig open a wound that will never heal. The pleading in your cries echoes in his head as the rain plays its melody on the roof of his home. Kyojuro covers his ears to make it stop. He has never experienced pain like this. How it claws at his chest, shrivels his throat so tight no words can possibly escape. Kyojuro has overcome many things, but this? How do you heal a wound that isn't physically there?

He never should have asked. Never should have given in to the illusion that he could ever be good enough for you. You deserve better, of course you do, and now hehas tainted all of your shared memories. Never again may he look at you without the reminder that you are not for him. All because he was selfish enough to believe his own happiness was his for the taking.

Sun stricken eyes drawn to the shapes of darkening clouds and he wonders if the monsoon season has come early this year, an omen, warning. He should have known.

It rained the day he fell in love with you.

That is untrue. He has always loved you, he's sure. 

The dawning realization left him without sleep for days. The water drenching your poor kimono beyond repair. The delicate silk sticking to every inch of your glistening skin in the rain. Hair ruined and eyelashes thick with raindrops. Your makeup cried, but you had never been more beautiful in his eyes. It was sheer impulse that brought his hands around yours, trembling as he so gently blew air in between your entangled digits. How long it took for you both to realize the ominous clouds had dissolved, he never knew. All he knew is that he wished to stay pressed against you under the safety of that very gazebo for the rest of his days.

How your mother berated you so upon returning home. Three generations this garment survives in this family and you destroy it on your very first outing! The fabric was ruined, stained, its shape all crumbled and falling apart. You must have looked so impertinent with your flustered smile throughout her scolding, so off in your own world. All thought consumed by his hand wrapped around yours, so warm you wished he'd never let go.

[foxydivaxx]

Gossip Girl Zoro More Headcanons

- He is bi

- He has had a few serious relationships, the most serious being Sanji

- He does not mind spicy food but he can only eat a certain level of spiciness

- He used to be tiny and scrawny as a kid. Now he has his signature muscles thanks to years of hard work

- He struggles with alcoholism as he loves to party and he started drinking when he was 9. He would secretly sneak to the bar whenever no one was there and drink

- He is an unapologetic sex maniac

- He has a special room in his home where he keeps his sex toys though he enjoys having sex all over the house

-Whenever he is drunk, his sexual antics get out of hard. Now you know how he lost his virginity

- He has a secret folder on his laptop dedicated to porn

- For a wild child, his grades were still amazingly high much to the surprise of everyone. Many suspected that he cheats but the truth is that most of the stories about him were over exaggerated to some extent meaning that his bad boy persona is to some extent a fake image he created for cheap publicity. The stupid thing? It always works. He studies and does his schoolwork whenever no one is looking.

- He always saves Sanji’s name as Curly on his phone

- He sleeps naked

- For a bad boy, he shows up on set on time and actually acts professional and rarely gets a hangover.

- All producers and directors love him and his older cast members see him as a baby brother and actually take care of him so that he does not feel lonely. That helped to ease his pain and loneliness a bit. They would play and interact with him and always make sure he is fed

- Whenever they point out he is the baby of the family, Kid Zoro would pout and say cutely, “I am a big boy now. I am not a baby.” Everyone finds that adorable. His peers love teasing him about it except now he says, “I am a grownass man people!!”

- He has quite a temper and can be initimidating which is why people fear him

- He is a sleepyhead because the poor guy is sleep deprived and gets overworked to death by his mum. He eventually lashes out at her and fires her as his manager once he turned 14. Mihawk divorced his mother around this time due to her toxic behaviour. Despite this, he remains close to Zoro and he and Arashi, Zoro’s dad act more like parents for him

- He eats a lot but not to the extent of Luffy. Mihawk leaves extra money for him for that simple reason

- He had a severe eating disorder got him hospitalised which is why Mihawk leaves money for him and actually cares for his well-being and even insisted on him getting casted in Class 201 where he would meet his friends and eventually Sanji

[bkgrl]

Just came back home for the holidays and found my old Mha OC and... How could I leave such ideas behind; like I'm talking about a full ledger, a backstory, and defined relationships ( and hard-core angst, like HARD-CORE ANGST with capital letters )

I'm gonna try to summarize it; Noriaki Yagi ( note that her name is typically a male name; note it for later it's important [ between no she's not trans it's something with her family lineage and all *angst* ]

As her family name points she is All Might's niece, so his brother's daughter Taro Yagi; the first son of the Yagi family, a long lineage of heroes and Taro is the heir to the agency that is passed down from generation to generation.

So to clarify there are conditions for it to be passed down; the heir has to look identical to the previous owner of the agency and have the same quirk ], and Taro in a quest to have a son and finally please his dad ( it's his real goal; he doesn't care much for the agency, he just want his dad's attention and affirmation ) had many wife's; the first one was Sana she was from North America and gave birth to Kana Yagi; who was a girl and looked nothing like him; 3a curly brown hair, dark skin, and green cat eyes ( she also has vitiligo marks around her left eye and neck; marks that in her grandmother's eyes taint her beauty and make her look like a monster paired with the white strands in her hair ), when she was 13 and her mom "died"( she was killed by the grandparents so their son could remarry and they didn't want to deal with a messy divorce as she loved her daughter dearly and would rather die than leave her behind) so she ran away and joined her uncle toshinori; who was also kicked out of the family because he was quirkless ( he didn't tell them about OFA obv ) so she trained and later became a pro-hero alongside her best friends Miruko and Keigo.

Nori ( nickname for Noriaki ) was 5 when all this happened; she was still living with her mom at the time; she and Taro had a one-night stand but when the grandparents found out she was pregnant they forced him to marry her and cast aside Sana ( the first wife ); the women he loved. This led to a toxic marriage; where Taro didn't love and resented Tama ( Nori's mom ), who loved him to the point of obsession; so to forget the pain she fell into a drug addiction and drinking problem; and when it wasn't enough she'd lash out on Nori..

Why she did do so? Because Nori was perfect; she had her dad and mom's quirk and looked exactly like him but was a girl. So that led to her growing up with a mother who would scream things like "Why couldn't you be a boy ?! You ruined my life etc..." while hitting her. When the grandparents ( again 😒) found out they put Tama in a mental hospital ( the same one as Rei where they grew quite close: Trauma bounding does wonders I guess 🤷‍♀️ ) and took Nori under their "care" ( now to note they changed Nori's name; her real name was Reina Yagi but in their ( the grandpa's ) delusion they renamed her Noriaki ).

Their "care" was intensive quirk training and abusing the poor girl mentally and physically; now to delve into her quirks she has two.

1) her mom's which is Kinetic energy absorption and control; basically if you hit her she'll absorb the energy behind the hit and enhance her attacks ( or if she falls from a certain height she'll absorb the shock from the fall); the drawback is there's a limit to how much she can absorb at once; so if she is too charged she either has to release every energy in her body and so blackout/faint or she would implode/explode.

So you guessed; Osamu ( her grandfather) would regularly hit her and make her keep it all in and discharge it all in one hit or make her do endurance training so that accumulated energy would be her only source for it. Of course, for it to work she had to have no energy/barely any strength before training; so she was malnourished, sleep-deprived, and generally exhausted for most of her childhood.

Which would later cause eating disorders, insomnia, and body dysmorphia (her grandmother Yumie was fat-phobic and the typical housewife; and made sure to plant the seed of those teachings and internalized misogyny in Nori's head and shaped her in the perfect image of a barbie doll ( she has straight dirty blonde hair and royal blue eyes; small nose, full cherry-pink lips; the only thing not "perfect" in her is the shape of her body ( and Yumie made sure to hammer it in her head for fifteen years straight ); as she is pear-shaped with a small chest * her grandma has been suggesting breast implants since she turned 12*🤢

A.N: I'm genuinely freaking out, how twisted was my mind and we aren't even halfway through this!!

So here we have a poor girl who was abused by her mom for 3 years, then was "saved" only to be brought to a place worse than hell; in which she was again abused, insulted on her appearance every day, and had to train her whole life to be ready to look "perfect" in front of the cameras and journalists, turned into a puppet for the world's entertainment.

So to go back to her second quirk; energy manipulation; she draws the source either from her first quirk or from the earth around her. Then she shapes it into different things weapons, armor, shields... [ In the future ( when she becomes a pro-hero; she can combine both her quirks so she'd be able to absorb any hit on the energy shield ]

Whew I think that's all for the basis of her past, I'll have to look through my stuff and find the rest, but if I remember correctly she is close to Momo; met her at a meeting. And Shoto: because in the past they were engaged until her father stepped in and refused it... Or I think but I don't remember shipping her with Shoto but rather Bakugou?

Anyway just have to say that 2020 me was out for blood with this character 😭😂